The Remnant

The Regretful

What Seemed Like Years Ago

“Today the leaders of the world have all joined together with the small remnant of remaining influential people who survived to discuss the future of the broken continent once known as Australia. Politicians, presidents, generals, governors and much more will soon unveil the latest plan regarding the restoration and rehabilitation of thousands upon thousands of people following the horrific events of what officials are now calling “Earthquake Titan”. This earthquake hit the continent of Australia no more than five days ago, killing the Prime Minister himself. What originally started as minor tremors off the western coast soon avalanched into a deadly earthquake of such a tremendous proportion that it left Australia shattered to the very core, splitting it into seven larger masses of land divided by water and more than a hundred minor islands scattered around the area of the land mass.”

Switching off the television, a young girl slowly lowered her head as her tangled black mess of locks fell over her face like a dark cloud. With her were a diverse group of people of different ages, stages, and phases. At one point these differences were thought of as barriers between each of them, but now none of that mattered. Their once proud land was shattered into pieces and they needed to fight to keep what little land they had.

Slowly the girl got to her feet and wandered outside, catching the attention of a tall tanned young man who soon followed her. As she cleared the house her face was touched by the burning sun that beamed down on her dark brown skin. Her hazel eyes stared at the red dust that was being tossed aside by her feet. She just kept staring. She let out a sigh of pain as her eyes focused on a specific patch of blue that, if she had turned, surrounded the entire large island.

Beyond there, somewhere, was her family. She just knew it. It burned deep within her that she wasn't with them that day, the day the whole world changed.

~~~

The Day It All Changed

“I'm going out for a cycle,” Abigail called to her parents as she pulled her bicycle along the stone flooring of their outback home. The piano could be heard playing in the background as one of her sisters poured her heart and soul into every key. Another girl sat quietly at her desk, etching and drawing every image that came to mind. She could hear the noise of the Wii machine as her two other sisters were determined to beat a level that had stumped them for the past several days.

Both her parents were in the kitchen supposedly cooking but actually mostly talking. She heard her mom call out, telling her to be safe, not to be too long, and that she better not be meeting with a "certain someone”.

Abigail rolled her eyes, said a generic goodbye to her sisters and parents, and soon shut the door behind her. Jumping on her bike she began pedaling down the street. It had been ages since she had cycled; since getting her driver's license her bike had laid in the shed, gathering cobwebs.

As she cycled down the street her house was on, she soon heard the pedaling of another bike that was swiftly catching up to her. She did not have to glance back to know who it was and she only continued to pedal faster. The road was about to take a turn to the right and head towards town, but instead, Abigail took a sharp turn to the left, her bike tires hitting off the gravel and onto the sand. She pedaled relentlessly knowing that ultimately she was no match for her pursuer. Eventually giving up, her back tires skidded to a halt kicking up dust and sand behind her. She heard his tires do the same but obviously in a much more professional manner.

As the dust soon settled the figure of a tall and muscular guy filled Abigail's eyes and she shot him a playful smile while she laid her bike down.

“You're getting slow, Pete,” she said, chuckling, causing him to smile.

“Nah, I'm just trying to be nice to you in your old age.”

They both laughed for a while and then he moved in closer, cupped her face and kissed her deeply. She loved it when he kissed her. He was so passionate. She could literally hear his lips say “I need you” every time they did.The warm sun beat against both their bodies, but they were Alice Springs folk; they could bear the heat. Little did either of them know that within the hour not only would everything change, but their so-called ‘love’ would be put to the greatest test of all.

~~~

Present

Abigail, now 19, rested her hands in her jeans' pockets as a cold wind brushed past her, tossing aside her black curly hair. It had not been long after she returned to the little town of Alice Springs from her military studies when it all happened. Only a few weeks after returning for holiday – once everything was back to normal – her world, along with everyone else;s who was living on this now damned continent, was turned upside down.

She heard his footsteps behind her and called his name without even looking. “Peter, go back inside,” she said rather unemotionally. She didn’t want him to see her like this. She needed to be strong. Heck, he’d gone through the very same as her and worse. She wasn’t the only one affected, but she wanted to bear her grief alone.

“I can’t do that.” His stubborn quiet voice ran through her ears as she turned to glance over her shoulder, a weak smile passing over her faded lips. He soon joined her side as he placed his arm around her shoulder and drew her close to him. She couldn’t help but just fall into his embrace, even if only for a few moments.

Peter, 19, was tall, muscular, and had the kind of attitude and personality that you would either love or hate with a vengeance. Somehow through his family line, he had attained curly hair that was rather short and went down to his ear. He had deep brown eyes and one crooked tooth that he hated with his own vengeance. To most people, he had the strong, ‘not taking crap from no one’ attitude, but that had all changed.

After the earthquake hit, and his father went missing, presumed dead, he changed. He realized there was no point keeping people out and he started to become more tender, especially to Abigail, who had no idea where her entire family was. He certainly felt for her. She had two parents, four sisters, two uncles and aunts, and five other cousins thrown in the mix, all missing. He was lucky – he had his mom, and four other siblings that he could depend on. She was alone.

“We’ll find them,” he said hoarsely, trying to keep a strong and confident tone, one that could make her not hear the pain in his voice.

“Missing is the newly dead,” she said bluntly as she pulled away from his embrace, attempting to brood by herself.

He wanted to reach out to her, to pull her back into his arms, but he knew that wouldn’t help anything. She was lost in a sea of regret, and ‘what ifs’. Oh, didn’t he have a few of those! He decided he’d leave her for a little and give her some time to herself. It was the least, and probably only, the thing he could do for her right now.

As he began walking back towards the house he saw a young girl approach him, her long, almost waist-length hair plaited and slung over her shoulder.

“How is she?” Her voice was filled with concern as Peter gazed at Abigail’s shrinking figure and then faced his 17-year-old sister’s worried expression.

“She’s hurt, Prisc,” he said, not knowing what else to say.

Priscilla lowered her eyes and wrapped her hands around herself shrugging, “I think we’re all hurt.”

With that, he continued walking towards the house and soon entered past through the doors and walked into the kitchen to find his dear mother making tea. She was a short but very powerful woman, and had sway verbally to get him to do her bidding; maybe that’s why he liked her. When his father went missing it hit them all pretty hard, but for some reason, his mother never showed it. It was as if she knew something none of her kids knew, something that seemed to frighten her, and led her to not ask questions.

“Need a hand?”

His mother turned, her deep hazel eyes glancing up at him lovingly, her golden and slightly greyed hair tied back out of her face. She wiped her hands and pointed to the empty water cooler that rested on the kitchen bench.

“Could you fill that up, please? Also get your brothers from the wreckage; tell them tea is almost finished.”

Peter gave an obedient nod as he grabbed the blue and white water container and carried it outside behind the house. They had been very lucky to have a section of earth with a water reservoir on it, as well as good fertile farming land and a little shed with chickens. He filled up the water cooler, returned it to the kitchen, and then headed east to find his two older brothers.

David and Juda: two more different boys there never could be. David, 20, was tall, but very thin; he took a liking to technology and that was a gift right now. Since the earthquake, all communication had been cut off, at least on their part of the world. Juda, 24, was tall and largely built, was good with lifting and had the strength of two men. He was into everything mechanical, especially cars, and trying to build something to take them to the larger island was his purpose daily.

As Peter neared what was known as “the wreckage”, he took it in once more. To be honest it was practically the tip. It was where they dumped everything they either fished from the water or dragged in from around the place. Cars, trucks, computers, printers, street lights – it was the hub of anything that used to have so much worth, but now, when it came to survival, was nothing but garbage.

He saw Juda in the distance dragging a car chassis to a pile of items he was accumulating in the hope of making some sort of floating boat to carry them away from the island. David was nowhere to be seen, but that didn’t surprise him. He was trying to contact her – Gwen March, his beloved, his girlfriend, his to-be wife. She was also one of many missing members of their family and friends.

“Hey, bro, tea’s nearly done,” Peter said in his usual casual tone as he glanced around. “So is it coming together?”

Juda paused, wiping the sweat from his brow. He glanced up at his younger but fairly similar-sized brother and sighed in disappointment. “It’s not going to be for a long time yet.” He stood tall and directed his eyes towards home. “If you’re looking for David, he’s where he’s always been.”

Peter chuckled and catching his drift, headed in the direction of the meteorology station, the place their father had once worked.

It was a long walk and Peter began cursing why David had to drag himself so far out. In the back of his mind, though, he knew why. There was a satellite dish, and it was the only place that his excuse for a phone could gather reception. And to be honest, if Abigail had been the one missing and not Gwen, he’d probably have assumed the exact same location. Nearing the place he called out with a booming voice, “Yo dude! It’s tea time!” The Ward boys, which happened to be Peter and his siblings’ last name, had a very casual, sometimes blunt, way of talking to each other – it was what worked best.

After waiting a couple of seconds, a tall and thin young man could be seen exiting the station and walking past the gates. His curly hair was a mess and his shirt was nearly blackened from grease. He was wearing a pair of tattered shorts that hadn’t been washed in days; he looked like a mess. As David approached, Peter thought he’d ask the question, “Any word from her or her family?”

He could tell his older brother was trying to put on a brave face as he swallowed. “No, but I’m sure she and her family are fine.” Peter knew David didn’t believe a word he had just uttered but he did not push the matter.

About half an hour later the boys entered the house. Dinner was just about to be served and everyone who lived in the house gathered around. There were the Wards: Juda, the eldest, Rachel the eldest girl, followed by David, Peter, and Priscilla, along with their mother.

Along with this family were several other families. First, there was Bryan and Nadine Dawson and their three small children, Jono, Eliza and Anna. Also with them were the Beaux family: Larry, Emily, their adopted son Mike, and his fiancé, Lorrain Fall. Then there was James Thunder. He had an identical twin brother, Zion, but he was missing in the earthquake. Yes, these were the broken people who surrounded this table; they all had differences and issues but they had all also been hurt by the same enemy.

As Peter looked around at the tired and broken faces he noticed one that was not present. “Where’s Abigail?” he muttered, looking around.

His mother heard his words, but she was not going to wait any longer for these people to eat, so she said grace. “Heavenly Father,” her voice began, brimming with pain. “We thank you for this food. Bless our days and keep us safe.” With that, she ended the prayer and everybody got down to eating the warm food which Mrs. Ward had prepared for them.

Peter was already gone. It was starting to get dark; the sun was setting, causing the sky to be ablaze with bright colors of pink and yellow. His eyes scanned his surroundings but he could not see Abigail’s figure at all. Suddenly a panic started to rise within him as he felt the gentle hand of David on his shoulder.

“What’s up bro?” His tone was caring and concerned.

Peter tried to calm himself. She knew not to go far, knew that there were many dangerous people on this land; she knew to be back before sunset, but where was she?

He turned his eyes towards David and could no longer hide his frustration. “Abigail’s gone,” was all he said and then darted in whatever direction he thought he last saw her head.

David was left standing there as those cold chilling words hung over him. Those same words he had heard only a couple of days before when he had finally found what was left of the March’s house. He tore that house inside and out searching for any sign, any idea of where Gwen and her parents might have been, but there was no trace.

“Gwen’s gone,” was all he heard Jon say, Gwen’s older brother, whom David had stumbled across a day later. Jon was not the sort to be tied down and he refused to live it out with David and the rest of the folks but was resolved to go looking for his sister. At the time David thought what Jon was doing was foolishness, but now, standing here alone, not knowing whether the woman he loved was dead or alive, he wished that he had gone with him.

Peter ran in all directions. He ran as fast as his feet could carry him, as far as they would take him, but to no avail. No trace, no note, no nothing! It was if she had disappeared! He eventually collapsed on his knees, tears starting to stream down his face as he cried out softly, “Oh God . . . not her! Please, dear Lord, don’t do this! It’s not her time!” He continued to beg and plead until he heard the sound of footsteps behind him. His hope kindled as he leaped to his feet and turned, but that hope was dashed on the rocks of despair as he saw that it was David slowly approaching, a solemn look on his face.

Peter soon noticed the look – it was the same look that his mother had worn whilst informing them that their father was missing, that he wasn’t at the meteorology station when the earthquake hit.

“David . . . ” Peter’s voice trailed off, not daring to ask the question, not daring to think of the idea of her small body being found with slashed wrists, or worse, hanged from a nearby gum tree. She wouldn’t do that to him! She knew he loved her more than anything, but was his love really enough to sustain her through all this pain?

David extended his hand once he was close enough to reveal the silver heart necklace that Abigail had worn on the day the earthquake happened and every day since. “I found this by the mountain base.”

Peter’s eyes soon glanced to the crumbled mountains that were several hundred meters away.

“It looks like it was ripped from her neck,” David continued, choking.

Peter grasped the necklace and tightened his fist around it as he began walking.

“What are you doing, bro?”

David’s words were lost on him. He just kept walking.

“It’s going to be dark soon! We can come back with a search party!”

Peter still did not stop. He didn’t even turn to meet his brother’s worry-stricken eyes. Abigail would not have ripped this necklace from her neck, and if there was a struggle there would have been more than just her necklace remaining.

There was only one person he believed that had the audacity to do it, who possessed the hatred and the vengeance to take Abigail but leave this necklace. For a long while he had hoped that that man had not survived. If God could have avoided one hardship he thought that this would be it, but it was not so.

Abigail wasn’t missing. She had been kidnapped, and this necklace was proof. He knew the culprit responsible. But what he did not know was that from the high mountain range was a thin-bodied individual who peered devilishly over the rocks, a hatred burning in his eyes as he stared down at the boy. No, Peter did not know that he was walking right into a trap.