Echoes of the Past
Kane Ryder walks through the wreckage of a modern city in yawning twilight — and this is long after he stumbled into New York City. Most buildings lie in skeletal ruins, and the streets are full of debris-and the occasional rotted cadaver. A world that was all about survival, where our past life memories were faint echoes in the back of one´s mind.
The exterior of Kane was rough and scarred so much by more battles both with the Undeads and within himself. It has been a war of attrition and other than the physical scars, it had exacted an emotional toll on him. Memories scattered across his mind like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, and each piece was more elusive than the last. The end of the world had not only taken away his family, home and virtually everything that made him who he was; but it chased with such unrelenting ferocity.
While sifting through the rubble of a grocery store, looking for anything salvageable he found a blood-stained journal lodged between two unturned shelves. The pages were old and yellow, the words faded and barely readable except one phrase written across them in thick ink almost black — *They took everything. I must remember.” Kane gripped the journal to his chest, feeling something faintly familiar tugging on the farthest edge of memory as * Kanes hands tightened around it. Was this a sign? Or just another fragment of a shattered history?
The sky seemed to get dark at a strange hour, as if a storm was coming. Every instinct that Kane possessed was warring violently against the voice, purling like an echoes of cool water on hot rocks in his head. He already knew from times before that the storms of this world were as dead or deadly as other zombies walked on it. The moans of the dead off in the distance made his skin crawl as he came to an old run down building.
Kane had made a pseudo-camp within the building. A few shards of a broken crystal chandelier--which now qualified as his sole source of illumination--casts spooky shadows on the walls. He opened the journal, and turned few pages in attempts to read between its cryptic lines yet found none of any other value but dismay. Then his mind went to the family he'd lost — wife and daughter, snatched from him in mid-outbreak. He never went more than a few moments without seeing their faces; they danced like ghosts in the ruins of his thoughts, always there to remind him that something was missing.
The footsteps, heavy and rhythmic, echoed through the building barely audible over the howling of wind outside. Kane dropped his own hand to the knife at his waist, on high alert. The footsteps neared, and Kane prepared himself to face the threat that approached. Quite unexpectedly, Lena—a gritty survivor Victor had run into once before but who he never expected to see again—would step out of the shadows.
Lena just f*****g gov-forbid-sisted her, finally catching up with Kara in the lab.，“Earth midg???im+++id++dary thought I would d find you here! They had split weeks before to follow their separate paths through the ruin that was the world, and she'd been looking for Kane ever since. Lena was fierce and independent, but her abilities had made her a valuable asset in this brutal new world.
“Lena…” Kane began, his voice closed and almost distant. “What are you doing here?”
” Lena told us, her eyes nervously glancing to the Midwife on duty. We just need a place where we are safe and technology that could help us discover, 【” So I figured that was worth a look.
At a new of possible source for his forgotten memories, Kane's heart sped up. You go ahead,” he said, and with it came the first glimmer of hope that soft light had seen for a long time.
The pair began to make their way into the storm, rain hitting hard and wind raging around them. Without it, the only lightmakers were lightning illuminating their way and short time segments in which wasteland glimpsed into millions of lives. Looking more closely at the broken house that Lena had informed him about, Kane remembered back to his journal and how it began reminding him of parts he had been trying to repress. What was he missing? How come the Bolton journal was also written for me personally?
It was a five-story fortress of rusted metal and cracked concrete, that the city brought with its eerie silence. As they walked in, a sight both unexpected and not welcomed met their eyes: Dr. Evelyn Cross herself was the leader of that same enclave Lena listed as her mention. She was a commanding but also somewhat jarring presence — frightful eyes which had sized up Kane as they now did Lena.
” welcome dr cross purred, her smooth voice sending authority but an under tone of power. ‘So you eventually located your way to me. And it seems you require more than merely refuge.
Kane and Lena shared a look. “Answers?” Kane steadied his voice. “You have the wrong house my friends.” " I want to retrieve something that I have lost — memories, part of myself.
A flash of calculation mixed with curiosity entered his gaze. She turned, and replied Youre not the only one after them.” This is something we can help, and you know. But that help comes with a price.
It was almost a bastion from the wasteland out there. It was one of the last bastions where technology and lawman had been able to stay alive in a world gone mad. A world of progress that reminded her all too well where they stood — or at least moved from until Dr. Cross guided them through a maze-like hallway into the adjacent space filled with high tech equipment.arraycopy
Lena waited until he had looked over the equipment before taking him aside. “Be careful,” she whispered. Dr. Cross is strange vibes all around. I heard whispers about the way she did things. We need to be cautious.”
Kane nodded, a flood of questions and doubts running through his head. The thought of getting his memories restored was so appealing, but at what price? He told himself that he was just imagining it, but now as his body underwent the new procedure that Dr. Cross had set up for him, he felt sure of one thing; This anesthetized life seemed to be too good to be true and probably hid some sort of trap on its wake!
Kane was in a cold, sterile room where the procedure would be performed by some other blind doctor; Kane lay there on his back feeling equal parts apprehensive and hopeful. Dr. Cross and her team bustled around the theatre, masked faces lowering from view as they worked quickly into their practiced rhythm. Lena was by my side, her face both worried and determined.
Halfway through the operation, Kane had an electric shock of agony and the next thing he knew, it was just a deeply unsettling absence. He saw images flickering through his mind–pieces of a life he hardly remembered, glimpses of his family… and moments where the misery was unbearably intense. In searching for truth part of his soul was being peeled away, and he felt it slipping through to the cracks.
There was chaos in the room suddenly. A horrible thud resounded through the enclave, and screaming. Kane's eyes flashed open, a searing pain running through his skull. He went to sit up, but his arms and legs were like lead. The lights dimmer and a red light spread across the room.
Dr. Cross struggled to make herself heard over the noise of it all; Kane felt his vision go gray, but he could just see Lena struggling against a squad of armed attackers — people from outside the enclave who had made it past their defenses. It was a chaos of violence and despair.
Kane pushed himself to his feet, and he ran a hand through the sweat that beaded up on his forehead. He had to help. Anger and determination welling up in his chest, he lurched towards the fray. The sanctuary of the enclave shook, and where would that leave his chance at regaining some memories. But as he struggled to keep the attackers at bay, a sense of guilt and sadness washed over him. He was losing his chance at finding out about what he once used to be and the world that he wished had been an imaginary lie or a place of lies.
On and on raged the battle, Kane joined Lena as they fought with all their hearts, each blow met by a cry of pain—pain at being struck down or perhaps nothing more than the gnawing hole for reality that swallowed everything whole. Once the dust cleared, all battle had ceased leaving nothing but rubble in its wake and what few inhabitants that remained were dislocated or dead. Kane and Lena stumbled out of the devastation, all anguish inflicted upon their faces: sorrow yet uncomplete; a promise left undelivered.
Kane could hardly bear to see them surrounded by the ruin. She had no answers from the night, just more despair. He kept looking for the memories, but they continued to be hidden and perhaps it became darker than ever.
Lena gripped his shoulder as she took in the sight, her expression a combination of empathy and determination. “Ηow do we say… right…” she started a little dreamy. “We will find another way” She whispered Hope — Sri Lanka 27th of April(""), by @WaduPrakash on Twitter
His emotions were up in the air, Kane could barely nod. And the story was not yet done, far from it. The path ahead was a dangerous one indeed. Yet through all the wreckage and the loss, there was a little light of hope left on our hearts. He would continue to search for his missing memories, at any price. Hope because in a broken universe, hope was the only dream worth preserving.
And with dawn came the softest of light -- milky and reaching out over all that was left to wander no more through debris, reclaiming where stone seemed almost soft as Lena said her goodbyes alone; but now it beckoned for them both too again bound in decisions taken from their beginning. There were still echoes from the past that plagued Kane, but it was a known fact
that fight for his human life back was far to LONG from being over.
