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Mirrorsmoke Company
- Chapter 1 -[]
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Somewhere in the outskirts of Albany City
New Oslo System, Draconis Combine
June, 3018
Rice was the food of the gods. Period. It was shelf stable and nutritious; a single cup could last you the day, and if you were creative enough, you'd never get sick of it. The amount of times that I had toiled outside, drills upon drills, my body collapsing to exhaustion only to be saved from what seemed like death's embrace with just a cup of fucking rice.
God, I was really hungry.
It had been three days. Three days since the minders had graced us with their benevolent presence. Still we kept going with our tasks and exercises, more for fear of being punished from a hidden test than from dedication. That they left us alone for this long would have been a godsend, if not for the fact that they were also the ones that brought food.
And thirty seven kids were hungry mouths to feed.
A commotion outside got me on my feet, as the sound of bickering got louder and louder by the doorway, before ending with a bang as the door opened without care for tact. Three kids, the ones I sent to forage anything to eat, were arguing by the entrance.
"Alright, break it up," I said, my hands clapping to get their attention. The fighting would have devolved into actual fighting if I didn't intervene now. "What happened this time?"
Mack had Lisbeth by the neck, who struggled like a trapped fish before she managed to squeeze herself out of the headlock. Ed was behind them, plastic bags in one hand and the other palmed on his face in dismay.
"Lisbeth was goofing off," Ed said, who handed the bags to me. "Tried to hunt birds like Logan did instead of foraging."
"That isn't goofing off!" Lisbeth screeched.
"It is if you keep scaring them all away," Mack growled in response, "You wasted time."
That earned us another angry shriek, and I moved, my hand grabbing her by the shoulder before she could storm off.
"Well, she can make up for it by helping me with the food later," I glared at both of them, before softening my gaze at Lisbeth, who still had a scowl. These brats were going to be the end of me, and I was only a few years older than them. "Rest a bit and then get everybody ready. I'm going to start dinner."
Foraging half the day away would have made anybody exhausted. While I went to the kitchen, they eagerly went to what passed as our mess hall. If one could call a wide room without any furnishings a mess hall; just rows of desks and chairs that we could all sit on as we ate what food we could get for the day.
I poured the contents of the bags onto a desk turned kitchen-counter. In them were a variety of edible mushrooms native to New Oslo alongside a good portion of wild onions, each vibrantly emerald in color. It was… disappointing fare, to say the least, but a good haul quantity wise; at least enough to fill everyone's bellies tonight.
Living on the outskirts of the city gave us a small advantage. I suspected that was the plan. Our survival skills were honed; by the first month, we'd all know how to start a fire with nothing but a knife and time. And the less than bare minimum supplies we were given meant that we all had to be creative in supplementing our stores.
In no time at all, the mushrooms were washed, and the onions were skinned. I decided on some kind of mushroom soup. That was, if you could call boiling diced mushrooms and onions together with a bit of salt as soup.
"Alright people, get the kids down here," I called out to my siblings. "Lisbeth, I need you on plates."
Lisbeth gathered what spoons and paper bowls she could take with her without much protest, herself eager to get some food after the long day. I followed her to the mess hall slowly, as I carried a large steaming pot of soup that wafted an earthy aroma that quickly spread in the room. Even got my stomach rumbling, but I suppose hunger was the best spice.
The act of feeding this many children all at once should have been a stressful affair. With desperate, hungry mouths that clamored for any bit of food they could find. It should have been chaos. The minders took care of that. Beaten into all of us feral beasts was discipline and order.
They all came into the room in a neat single file, youngest to oldest, their gait in rhythm like it was a military parade. Straight towards me. Lisbeth, who was by my side, handed them a bowl and a spoon each, while I carefully scooped a portion of the soup on that bowl with a ladle.
One by one, all the kids got theirs until it was Lisbeth's turn. But not mine. No sooner after Lisbeth were there already a line of hungry children that at the very least, I thought to myself, liked the soup enough to go for seconds.
But the day had been grueling, and they all needed the energy for the next day.
I finally got to the last one, a little dot of a wallflower, but whose green eyes could pierce you at any distance. It was Kristin, the youngest of all of us at the age of eleven. Logan's eyes and ears, Mack called her 'little snitch' and a lot of expletives to go along with the appellation. She had been unfortunately quiet–even more so–these past months since Logan's disappearance.
For her, I had to tilt the pot to the side for one last portion. Kristin cast her gaze at the pot and then to me. She frowned. Heh, ever observant. I didn't want her to worry, so I gave her a wink and a dismissive wave.
As long as they could eat.
I sat down, the stillness in the room drowned out by them eating. It was peaceful, serene even. No fights, no arguments, just the exhausted calm after the harsh drills and training that passed the day.
"Not eating?" I jumped, and my head swiveled. It was Ed who pulled a chair with his foot to sit beside me. In his hands were a stack of cups and a pitcher of water that he set down in front of us. How such a tall kid could have so quiet a step I would never know.
"Damnit, Ed," I said, "make some noise."
"I did. I'm doing it now," he said smilingly, all too aware of what he did and started pouring my cup with water. Drinking would have to be my dinner. Again. "Y'know, I could get a spoonful each from the kids, call it cook's tax."
I shook my head. "Don't need it. As long as all of you get to eat."
I've had worse. I could survive this. There were times where I had to go days before getting my next meal. This was no different.
"Stubborn as usual," it was Mack this time who came up to us, Lisbeth in tow.
"If you're not eating, we're not either," Lisbeth said as they both sat down.
"Out of the question," I said. "You'll need your strength for tomorrow."
"Right, and you'll survive the drills without eating anything for days," Ed said, who passed a cup to the girls, who proceeded to fill it with their share of the food.
I sighed, but I smiled too. I took the offer for what it was, grateful for the small act of kindness. I may be stubborn, but I wasn't prideful. The soup was salty, and a little too earthy for my taste, but it might as well have been the best soup that's ever graced my tongue.
"You know I can't believe I'm saying this, but I miss Logan," Mack said, "I don't know how he did it, but he got us some actual food once in a while."
"Stray made friends with a couple of the farmers a few miles out," Ed said, a hint of pride in his voice. "Once a week, he'd sneak out at night, and pick up a sack or two they've conveniently misplaced."
"This was before he lost his arm, right?"
Mack, ever the goddamn blunt instrument. All Ed could do was nod solemnly.
"I wouldn't say it to his face but I do miss him," she said, "Kristin has been very mopey since he left."
"There hasn't been a day that goes by without me thinking what the hell he's doing out there," I said. It had been four months since that night, four months since I've had to deal with a massive loss of morale from a surprising chunk of these kids.
"What do you think it was that got him to run away?" Lisbeth asked.
Mack scoffed. "It was the minders, plain and simple. You don't really think they were going to keep him on here now that he was a burden, right? If I know the snakes like he does–and trust me, I do–he'd eventually be part of a test. Would have made us make an example of him once and for all."
"Don't talk like that," I warned.
She held up both her arms, "I'm just saying, wherever he is, I hope he stays there. Probably safer."
"On a brighter note," Ed said, hoping to steer away the conversation. "None of the minders have shown up for a couple of days now. It's like a vacation, I haven't had to do any of the exercises this whole time."
"I know, right? Do you think something happened?" Lisbeth asked.
"Ed, you lazy bum. Only you would think this is a chance to slack off."
"Of course, Mack. How else do you think I can keep such a handsome and happy face, unlike your sour, ugly mug?"
That got her to stand and gleefully grab Ed by the lapels of his shirt. Ed then proceeded to beg profusely for mercy before getting his head repeatedly pummeled by the bottom of a cup.
I laughed. I looked at the people beside me. At all of the children in this room. Shouting and joking like siblings, talking shit about nothing and everything at the same time. The rare times I'd ever seen them be actual children. So unwound and without discipline. Without the batons at our backs. It was like time had stood still just for me. I couldn't help but get a small smirk on my face. This was my family.
Then the harsh sound of the city's sirens blared out like angry banshees in the distance.
We all stood up, the soldier beaten into all of us children woke. The calm in all of us seemed like the eye of a storm. Then the world shook, and then a sound of an explosion followed in the distance.
The cup on my table caught my gaze, the water inside rippling rhythmically.
As if giant steps were nearby.
I heard somebody barking orders to go to the basement. Single file, they said. To my astonishment, it was my own voice coming out of my mouth.
Lisbeth immediately sprung to action, leading the kids down. I ran with her to the door, my hands frantically counting all the heads going down that line one by one. Twenty six I had counted, praying that I didn't miscount. Thirty two, I would say out loud. The counting felt like a hell's eternity before Mack's finger pointed to herself.
Thirty seven.
I would have to believe her.
So I walked dead last in the line. The trip was tense, but no one panicked. A testament to my kids' discipline and iron will.
For now. Nobody but me has ever experienced a raid before.
We went out the hallway and into another room, down the rickety set of cellar doors, its flight of stairs so low even the smallest of us had to crouch. I closed the doors, careful not to hit my head as we went down. Our combined steps and weight stressed the stairs to its limit, and then another explosion in the distance shook the place around. The stairs groaned as if in pain, and some of us finally screamed, fearing it would collapse with us along with it. But it didn't happen. One by one, our feet touched the steady floors of the basement, and I couldn't help but sigh in relief.
What did happen was the sound of angry thunder that shook all of us down to the bones. My breath hitched, and it took all of me not to start breathing rapidly. The dust and gravel of this old building had started to fall down on us. More and more of the outside sounded as if a war had started on our doorstep.
A hail of machine guns fired wildly outside, made us all huddle together, our backs to the walls and our arms linked to each other in a desperate act of reassurance. I could hear something blowing off, metal shearing and bending violently and then a crash! We all screamed, even I couldn't get myself to calm down as something hit our home hard without resistance.
I felt arms wrap around me as tightly as they could. It was Kristin's, her face damping my shirt and her body just shivering in terror as the earth shook without cease. All I could do was wrap around her in turn, with all the softness I could muster.
closed my eyes. I welcomed the blackness, my breathing in rhythm with the shrieking of the sirens. The sharp cries of my kids intensified in my ears, and all I could do was gently rock myself back and forth for the child in my arms, my hand patting her back.
It wasn't until somebody shook me that I realized I fell asleep. I turned, my bleary eyes focusing on the hand. It was Lisbeth, who was in the process of peeling Kristin off me. On her face was a tinge of worry and fear, and I wondered if something had gone terribly wrong.
And as if an electric jolt had pierced me, my full senses reeled me back, and it felt like my body was swimming in tar. A combination of malnutrition and fatigue had finally taken its toll, and my body wanted nothing more than to go back into a dreamless sleep.
Were they in danger?
"What happened?" I slurred. Speech was hard somehow, and all I could do was force my jaw to open.
"We've been trapped here for hours," Lisbeth said, who it seemed had been trying to get everybody up. "I think the fighting stopped in the middle of the night."
Light somehow forced its way into the basement, causing me to flinch as I tried to follow its source. It was Ed and Mack, who was giving it their all to push the doors open, but something was blocking the way.
I pushed myself up, and just the act of standing felt like chains were pulling me down to the earth again. Every step on the staircase felt like walking on a tightrope as the world spun violently. The short flight might as well have been a trek to the desert with the amount of steps I had to take.
But an eternity later I made it, sweat on my brows and my teeth gritting, all in a desperate attempt not to void the contents of my stomach, if I had any.
I looked at both of them, their eyes darting to me and the door with uncertainty, but made room. We counted to three, braced and then pushed with all that we could, before something wooden snapped outside and the doors sprung open.
My face felt the wind of an early summer day, and clear blue skies shone down on me as we took the first steps out of our hole. I could hear my kids cheering behind, but all I could do was look on in horror at what was in front of me.
Soldiers. Ones I didn't recognize. Clad in black and gray uniforms, and on their faces were dark veils that even under the sun concealed their faces. They weren't DCMS, and somehow that frightened me. It took just the three of them to heft off the wall that was blocking the doors. There were more in the surrounding area. A group of them were recovering a body of their fallen off an armored van lodged in a treeline. Another was salvaging the remains of a vehicle, its back half crushed flat onto the ground.
Before I could even process the fact that our home was completely destroyed, a group of raiders were stripping the place clean. As if an uncaring whirlwind had just blazed through what little we had and cherished. What was once a place with numerous rooms and walls was just an open floor as they cleared the debris.
Then one of them got close to us, a finger pressed to his ear. I instinctively put myself in front of Ed and Mack, my hands desperately pushing them and the other curious kids back to the basement. There was a brief silence before he said something so scrambled and distorted I couldn't understand what he was saying.
He got closer, and the distortion got clearer and clearer before I heard a voice I least expected.
"Dav, long time no see! Let's get you the hell out of here."