This Is Not the End

Chapter 1: Past and Present

To decrease the civilian's morale and possibly turn them against their governments, both sides attacked cities and people with whatever they had. After using up most of the shells early on, and destroying most big cities in the process, both of the air forces reverted to gas. Mustard gas was the favorite because it could be taken in through the skin but supplies of mustard gas were running out. Most of the shells now were full of phosgene, which didn't do too much damage because it could be easily avoided with a gas mask, but now and then we'd get news of a mustard gas shell and a colony dead. Though, most colonies were too concerned with protecting themselves to take notice of the fates of others.

Ducking into an alleyway between the two remains of brick buildings, I stopped for breath. Above me, in faded ink almost too pale to see in the electric glow to flickering streetlights, was a poster.

I stared at it through my gas mask, my breathing echoing in my ears. The picture on the poster was a gas mask, made to look like an elephant. The elephant-mask was holding a big clump of hay. The poster read, in bright, big letters, "Smells like musty hay, or green corn- PHOSGENE! Wear your mask!"

Beside it was another with a discolored image of a man in a gas mask and the words, "Smells like garlic, horseradish, mustard, strong vesicant, MUSTARD GAS! Mask up!"

Posters like these were put up long ago to protect citizens. Nowadays alerts were sent remotely to places where the deadly gas could be. At least, they were sent to everyone lucky enough to have a government-distributed tablet. Which, now, was only those rich and powerful, those close to the government.

I reached my hands out to the poster, but I couldn't feel the paper through my leather gloves. I wondered what it must have been like back when the war first started. When people didn't know how to use a gas mask, or what a demolished building looked like. Back when people had to learn what gases smelled like, and hospitals could save victims. Back when the politicians' promises meant something, and change was possible. I wondered if they had known then what was going to happen. I wondered if they'd think all this was worth it.

"Kora, let's go!"

Xyli had caught up to me. I nodded, and we ran together.

@ @ @

"So, you think you can just waltz into our part of town and take our electricity, do you?" Dion's voice was low and muffled through the gas mask.

"Our bunker's electricity ran out yesterday, Dion, come on. You have more than enough," Zoltan protested to the stoic leader of the Third Avenue Scorpions.

"Oh, yeah? I'll have you know that it takes a lot of electricity to keep the peace around here! I need all I can get!"

"Keep the peace?" Zoltan scoffed, "All you do is bully survivors, steal food, and stuff yourselves. You're using up supplies that could help the rest of us. Kids are dying, Dion, because you're hogging all the food or water, or power! The fans circulating the air in our colonies are rusted through. But where are all the newer ones? Or the supplies to fix them? You have them!"

Dion exaggeratedly yawned.

"Are you done with your passionate speech? Look here, buddy, we Scorpions are just trying to survive."

"Yeah? Well, survive this!"

Zoltan lunged at Dion, tackling him onto the cracked pavement. Holding Dion down with his knees, Zoltan pulled his clenched fist back, ready to break Dion's nose. The rest of the Scorpions rushed to assist their leader but Dion, an old expert in street fights, headbutted Zoltan and shoved him off. Zoltan's head exploded into stars, but he pulled himself off the paved ground. Dion stood too, his face bright red with fury.

Zoltan was just about to rush Dion again when a voice stopped him.

"Zoltan, stop!"

Zoltan groaned as he saw who it was.

"Xyli, what are you doing here?"

"Stopping you from killing yourself," Xyli called, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I'm doing just fine! Hey, Kora," Zoltan said, breaking from his argument to throw a greeting in my direction.

"Zoltan." I nodded back.

"I'm doing just fine!" Zoltan repeated to his sister, before turning to where Dion and his gang were laughing.

"You girls come to see the slaughter?" Dion flexed his muscles and took a step toward Zoltan.

"Come on, Dion, please, leave him alone!" Xyli pleaded, her child-like innocence amusing the hardened street gang and making me wince; I should have left her behind.

"Leave him alone!" They mocked Xyli, closing in on Zoltan.

One of them, a tall red-haired kid who went by the name Fox, took a step toward Xyli, remarking, "Hey, she's kind of pretty- "

Fox was cut off as Zoltan threw himself into him yelling, "Don't you talk to my sister that way!"

Pandemonium broke loose.

All the Scorpions were immediately on top of Zoltan, but he was giving as good as he got. Xyli was crying and yelling for it to stop, which only added to the chaos.

Standing to one side, I logically surveyed my options.

Option one, jump headlong into a twelve-to-one fight to support my friend and probably get killed. Option two...

I shrugged.

Nah.

And jumped in. 

~Author's Note~ For best effect, listen to This is Not the End by Fieldwork on repeat while reading this story.  Thanks, and enjoy!