Survivors in the After

Chapter 1-2

“Hello, Sebastian,” Marshall said as he stepped out from behind the corner that jutted into the former journalists’ office space.

Careful to keep his hands relaxed at his sides, Marshall observed his visitor. Standing twenty feet away, he wondered if the younger man noticed the resemblance. The same square jaw, the same intelligent dark blue eyes, the same shape of the nose. Black shoulder-length hair, while his had gone gray, a stature of six-four compared to his own now six-one, mirrored his curiosity. When he was Sebastian’s age, he carried a similar build with wide shoulders and narrow hips. But the man in front of him was a little bigger, more athletic. The enhancements, Marshall thought.

Sebastian glanced around. The old man appeared to be alone. He didn’t lower his weapon or ease his guard. “How do you know my name?”

Marshall hid his pained expression and studied the up-close details he’d missed in recent months. The long black leather trench coat hid a powerful body, even without the enhancements. Wearing a thick sweater and cargo pants tucked into combat boots, Marshall didn’t clearly see the rest of the weapons Sebastian carried, but he knew they were there.

“I know many things,” Marshall answered as he stepped to the desk between them where the bottle sat. He poured some liquor into each mug, then traded the bottle for one mug and held the other out to Sebastian.

“Who are you?” Sebastian asked.

“Marshall.” It wouldn’t do to give away too much information and have the younger man leave before he had a chance to explain. “There’s no one else present besides the two of us. Here,” he said, still holding out the mug of liquor.

Sebastian eased closer, lowered his weapon to his side, and accepted the mug. He sniffed the contents. Not detecting anything beyond the alcohol, he swallowed half the liquid, enjoying the heat of it.

“I knew you watched the past few days from the second-story fire escape. Why did you decide tonight to follow me?”

“I was given orders to discover your identity and where you waited out curfew.”

“Ah, Leo.”

Sebastian arched a brow. “How do you know Leo?”

Marshall took a swallow from his mug. “There is much that I know. But you’re wondering what I’m doing in the old Times Building and how I got these computers to work. You have questions, and I’ll do what I can to answer them. But first, I need you to do something for me.”

“Why are you here?”

Marshall glanced around. “It has electricity, protection from the weather, a working bathroom, and an extensive view,” he said and gestured to the windows behind and to the side of him. He turned back to his visitor. “Without the World Wide Web, these devices are basically storage lockers. I learn from the information on their drives, and the voices offer small company to an old man living alone.”

Sebastian came here to gather information. He shifted his weight, realizing Leo had set him up. He didn’t relax as Marshall spoke. Something seemed familiar about the man, like he’d seen him before but couldn’t place where. The sensation felt longer and deeper than observing and following him at a distance the past few days.

“Can I see?” Marshall asked, gesturing to the younger man’s left arm.

Sebastian hesitated, the mug halfway to his lips, unconcerned how Marshall guessed he was enhanced. “Can you read it?”

Marshall gave the faintest of smiles.

“It’s private. Asking about an Enhancer’s ink is invasive.”

“You came here for answers, Leo’s and your own. You’re curious about me. This is as close as you’ve gotten since you started your surveillance. You want to know my connection to Leo, why I gather the children at the old library foundation, where I found the rocking chair.” When Sebastian narrowed his gaze, Marshall added, “You’re stronger, faster, well trained, armed, and half my age. What are you afraid of?”

“Not you. But I’m also not stupid.”

Sebastian listened to the timber of the man’s voice, the videos and music, and the creaks and groans of the building that wasn’t as undamaged as it appeared from outside or the lobby. No other people were on this floor, none whom he could hear or smell or sense. Yes, he had questions, gnawing unknowns about the Before, the details of the War, and this man’s position in the City. Marshall’s voice and presence tickled some memory of long ago.

“No, Sebastian, that you are not. Think of it as an offer of trust.”

“I don’t trust those I don’t know.” Did a flash of regret and pain just cross Marshall’s face? Sebastian wondered.

The old man was correct in his assessment. If Marshall read the ink, and then attempted to betray him, Sebastian would end the man’s life. He downed the rest of the liquor, then set the cup next to the bottle. Remaining on the opposite side of the desk from Marshall, he pushed up the sleeve of his coat and sweater on his left arm to reveal the intricate tattoo design that described his enhancements. He watched Marshall’s face, his gray brows lifting on a lined forehead.

Marshall leaned closer, taking in every detail. The numbers and symbols read like a list of ingredients for one fluent in the understanding of enhancements. Feeling satisfied and proud, Marshall raised his gaze to Sebastian’s. He wondered if the younger man recognized their physical similarities.

A smile curved Marshall’s lips. “Thank you,” he said, realizing not all the marks he knew should be there were visible, and that gave him needed information.

Sebastian dropped his sleeve and asked, “How do you know Leo?”

“We have a shared history. I’ve known Leo for several years, but we’ve been out of touch lately.”

The response fueled the low hum of anger in Sebastian that began when he realized Leo set him up. So, if Leo knew Marshall, why did the Enhancer leader send his second-in-command to follow the old man?

“Are you enhanced?” Sebastian asked.

He didn’t think so, as Marshall was too old. Only children were taken to the facilities for treatment. Through research conducted at the centers, scientists discovered that if the prospect was older than eighteen, they had less of a chance of surviving the treatments. Again, a pained expression flashed over Marshall’s features.

“No, I’m not an Enhancer.”

“So how can you predict what information I might ask?”

“You’ve persisted in following me. It reasons that you want to know more than just my name and where I sleep at night.”

“Where did you find the rocking chair?”

“In the nursery at the abandoned clinic on 49th.”

“You spend time with the Enhancer children. Why?”

“I teach them. There are many things they need to know, not only how to survive in the After. Life won’t always be this way. Humans have a remarkable ability to ignore history, regardless of how many times it repeats itself. I’m attempting to ensure the children understand the past so they can change their future.”

Sebastian thought of Leo’s plan. If it worked, the future for everyone would change. If it failed, the children, if they survived, were doomed to a life of s*****y. He opened his mouth to ask another question when green light bathed the interior of the office space.

“Get down!” Marshall yelled, even as Sebastian dove behind a desk.

From outside the window, the drone began its recorded request. “Stay where you are. You are in violation of the codes.”

“What the f**k, Marshall? Is this a trap?” Sebastian glared at the old man, angry with himself for trusting a stranger.

“I didn’t alert them! Why would I endanger your life? I’m not aligned with the Heads!” Marshall replied loudly to be heard over the demands of the mechanical security operated by the military. “Take the stairwell to the ninth floor, the service elevator to the garage level, then the alley to the west.”

“Why, is that where the ambush is set up?”

“No. You can trust me or not. But please, get out of the building. You can’t be captured. Go!”

Sebastian stared a moment longer at the old man as they both crouched on the floor, the eerie green light flashing throughout the office space, the drone’s computerized voice too loud in the quiet building. Turning, Sebastian rolled, then ducked behind another desk before scrambling out into the hallway where he stood and headed for the stairwell.

He found the staircase as empty on his way down as it was on the way up. In the first thirty-second scramble down the stairwell, where he jogged half the flight then leaped over the rail to the next landing, he considered the old man’s suggestion for escaping the drone and the military personnel who would follow the electronic alarm. If Marshall tipped off the Heads to Sebastian’s location, why would he do it and when, since Marshall couldn’t predict their introduction would happen tonight? Could he trust that a trap wasn’t set? The old man wasn’t a Fringer and denied allegiance with the Heads. Enhancers often tolerated the first and despised the second. But Marshall wasn’t enhanced. If the drones happened upon the building, perhaps drawn there by the frequency emitted from the computers, he could at least trust there wasn’t a squadron of uniforms waiting to capture him on the route the old man suggested, or if one existed, Marshall had nothing to do with it.

Glancing up at the three-foot tall number nine painted on the wall, he jerked open the door and sprinted down the hallway. It was dark, except for sporadic pale light that fell in from outside through holes in the wall and windows. No green light. Either the drones didn’t realize there were two of them or they hadn’t sensed him leave. Using a hand on the corner, he swung himself down the back hall, then skidded to a stop at the open doors of the service elevator. Stepping inside, he took a moment to figure out the pulley system before he sent the car to the garage level.

No light from outside reached this far in, but even with his enhancements, he couldn’t discern his hand from the surrounding darkness. He smelled fresh air, but didn’t want to run into one of the many concrete columns holding up the building. Though his enhanced senses would alert him to moving objects, he should proceed slowly to keep from connecting with anything stationary. Feeling the urgency to move far from the building, he pulled a glow stick from his pocket. Shaking it, a soft blue light emanated from his hand. Holding it in front of him, he followed the scent of the ocean air, dodging the large pillars. Stepping out onto a landing, then hoisting himself out of the concrete ramp that had been used as a loading dock, he tucked the glow stick back in his pocket. Looking up, he searched for the green light of the drone and listened for the metallic command to remain where he was and wait to be apprehended. At the sound of a truck engine moments later, Sebastian turned and jogged in the opposite direction.

The salt from the ocean hung heavy in the air. Suddenly, the ground shook, causing him to stumble. Glancing over his shoulder, he watched as smoke from an explosion blurred the top of the closest buildings. Did the Heads bring the boom to flush out an old man? He frowned and slowed his steps as concern for another human gripped his conscience. No, he told himself. If he returned now, with the military present, he would be taken. He resumed his speed, heading in the most direct route to the beach.

Considering places he could hide to wait out the drones and uniforms, he decided on the pier. Later, he would return to verify Marshall was alright. His pace slowed when he reached the sand. He veered to the right, not stopping until he was under the pier. Leaning against a piling to catch his breath, which huffed out because of the adrenaline not the physical exertion, Sebastian scanned the paper-covered wood above him. The tide was out, so if he chose, he could move further under the pier and closer to the water. He turned, looking towards the row of buildings closest to the beach, and noticed an orange glow above them instead of the night sky.

“s**t,” he breathed. Had the military really launched an assault against one man? Did Marshall warrant such an attack?

Straightening from the pillar of wood, Sebastian watched as red and blue lights swirled atop military vehicles as they screamed down the street towards The Times Building. He waited, and when the air above the fire remained free of helicopters, he knew he had a way to discover what happened.

Taking the glow stick from his pocket, he held it up and slowly moved toward the water. The drones could look out and down, but a design flaw prevented them from looking up. The underside of piers and bridges and expressways became message boards for those who were against the Heads. Not many Fringers came this far into the City or bothered to communicate with anyone, so it tended to be Enhancers or the Claimless who wrote, left, read, and took messages. He smiled a little at the nail pushed into the top of a piling. It held a scrap of paper, one with printed text on it that used to belong in a book. The characters scratched out in charcoal over the printed text held a message for Leo. One of the Enhancers in the City wanted to meet after dawn. Excellent. It meant more of his kind accepted Leo in the role he held in the City. Tucking the paper and the glow stick into his pocket, he left the shelter of the pier and headed straight for the closest fire escape. It was a good night to get a rooftop view of the havoc the Heads had caused.

Enough structures still stood, built close enough together, that Sebastian, as an Enhancer, leaped from rooftop to rooftop until he landed on a gravel-covered one diagonally across from The Times Building. Crouching and peering over the parapet, he watched, his brows drawn together in concentration as he filed away details. He c****d his head to the side and used his enhanced hearing.

“I didn’t see anything!” a boy of about sixteen denied as he tried to jerk free from the uniformed military man who held him by the upper arm.

“A man. Late twenties. Black hair, black trench coat. Where did he go?”

“Nobody around here has a coat like that!”

The kid stumbled and fell as the uniform suddenly released him. In the During and the After, it became common practice for the military to pull people from their sleeping places in order to question them.

Sebastian’s fingers closed into fists as the uniform kicked the boy before he could scramble away. He recognized the teen from the group of children who sat with the old man at the library. Impotent to intervene before the uniform landed another blow on the kid, he growled as two more kicks were delivered. Another uniform said something to the first, and the two men walked towards a vehicle. Sebastian watched as the kid rolled to his side, gained his feet, and limped as he hurried down the sidewalk, holding his left ribs.

The front of The Times Building was burning, but it hadn’t collapsed. Whatever bomb the Heads had detonated, they hadn’t destroyed the old man’s home. And it didn’t appear they had captured him, either. Easing away from the edge of the roof, Sebastian circled around and watched as the military piled into their vehicles and left. There wasn’t much to burn with the stone and steel that remained in the lobby of The Times. The fire would be out before morning. He would first locate Marshall to ensure he was alive, then head to Leo’s lair. Since the Heads were looking for him, he couldn’t continue to remain topside during the day, at least without a disguise.

Though the military vehicles took their time evacuating the two blocks in front of The Times Building, Sebastian waited. The drones had returned to their operator. Flames from the explosion were already dying. Smoke, carried away on the ocean breeze, revealed the dark and still, but not abandoned, surrounding buildings.