Jack proceeded cautiously up the deserted staircase, scoped hunting rifle in his hands. It would be hard for him to use in close quarters he knew, but a gun was a gun. Even the biggest of men cowered when staring down the barrel. He moved up the stairs one step at a time, careful not to make too much noise. It was pitch black in there. Jack had only an angle-head flashlight clipped onto his shirt collar to provided any sort of light. The climb up seemed excruciatingly long and it seemed to take hours before he arrived at the floor before the roof. It only took a few minutes in actuality.
He opened the door slowly with a creak, grimacing slightly as the sound filled the silent building. He peeked inside to make sure it was clear. When he saw nothing suspicious, he quietly set one foot in front of the other, entering the room. To Jack’s benefit there was no one else in the building save for a few scrawny rats. To make sure though, he checked the room three times before he settled down and made a small fire across the window. True, he could’ve set camp outside but he preferred the safety of walls and heights. Maybe it was the child in him that longed for this, the child who grew up in the city in one of the top floors of a poor apartment building before the bombs fell.
He searched the room for food and found a few canned and packaged items as well as a few bottles of purified water. Others were in here before him, he could tell, but where they went and why was a mystery. A mystery that Jack was more than happy not to investigate. He ate a can of raviolis and drank a half a bottle of water before he dozed off on the floor, using his travel pack as a pillow.
He woke up with a start in the morning when faint screams and shouting reached his ears. He picked up his rifle and went over to the window to see what all the ruckus was about. Using his rifle’s scope, he observed the desolate city streets. At first there was nothing but then a couple, a man and a woman, ran out from the cover of a building and were heading down the street towards Jack. The woman held the man as he stumbled and clutched his head. The man was hurt, Jack knew.
He observed them a few seconds longer before the screech of tires sounded from up the street. It was an old jeep without a hood, driving down the street at full speed. Hanging on to its sides and crowded inside were savage bandits. They screamed and hollered as their prey appeared before them again. The couple tried to go faster but the man’s injury was holding them back. The jeep continued to chase after them and actually zoomed passed them to cut off their approach to Jack’s building. As they drove past, one of the bandits hanging on the side swung his crude club that hit the man square in the back of the head. The man fell down, unmoving.
The woman screamed and crouched down by her companion as the bandits hopped out of their ride all too eagerly. Though he was up high, Jack could hear their sinister laughter as they circled their prize. As they got closer, the woman pulled out some sort of knife and made an attempt to stab at one of the bandits nearest to her. The bandit jumped back as another grabbed her from behind. She bit the arm of her attacker and he screamed, releasing his grip. The woman tried to get away but was slapped to the ground by another bandit, the leader from the looks of him.
Jack could take no more and looked away as he heard their sinister laughter and the woman screamed for mercy. His morality argued with his survival instinct. It’s not your fight, his survival instinct kept saying, Not your fight. We must do something, his morality argued, We can’t just leave her to those b-------!
Finally, after a few seconds of inner arguing, it seemed that his survival instinct won and he stomped out his fire and picked up his pack. He was nearly out the door when his morality came back with a vengeance and forced him back to the window. He threw his pack down and aimed his rifle at the bandit standing above the woman. His pants were down and he was laughing as the poor woman screamed and writhed in an attempt to escape the grasps of two other bandits holding her down. But before that cretin could do anything to her, Jack fired and sent a bullet flying towards the man’s head. It popped like a watermelon and his body collapsed to the ground.
The bandits quickly scattered, leaving the woman behind. She looked dazed and confused and looked around in shock. Her eyes then fell on her companion and she rushed over to his side, cradling him in her arms. Jack looked at her for a quick instant before he shifted his view to another bandit whose leg was exposed. He pulled the trigger and the bullet ripped through the poor man’s knee cap. He screamed and rolled around on the ground.
Some of his comrades who had firearms began shooting in Jack’s direction, sending swarms of bullets that landed no where near Jack’s position. Jack calmly aimed and fired a few more times, taking down more bandits in the process. Finally, after a few bullet riddled minutes, only one bandit remained, the leader. He looked around at what had been his gang, his soldiers, his brothers. Anger flared up within him and his fiery eyes laid rest upon the poor woman tending to her companion. Taking a few deep breaths, he darted out of cover, heading straight for the woman.
Jack had him in his sights and pulled the trigger only to hear a hollow click. Horror nearly overwhelmed Jack but he quickly fought it down and fumbled around in his pocket for another magazine. By the time he exchanged mags and brought back up the scope, the leader had one hand holding the woman in front of him and the other holding a knife, sharp tip at her throat.
“Aight, listen up!” he shouted in a voice full of rage and savagery, “You want this girl to live, I suggest that you come out now wit your hands up! I ain’t playin’! I’ll kill her! Just come out wit your hands up!”
Jack still aimed, looking for that clear shot. When he couldn’t find it, he cursed silently and slung both his bag and rifle over his shoulder. He zoomed down the steps and was out the front door as the bandit leader counted down. He was at three by the time Jack exited the building, grizzled hands in the air.
The leader smiled, revealing a mouth full of broken, yellow teeth. He edged the woman closer and he beckoned Jack over with his knife hand. Resisting the urge to grab his rifle, Jack came forward, eyes scanning the surrounding buildings in case the leader had more men around.
“Oh you don’t need to worry ‘bout an ambush,” the leader snarled, “‘Cause you killed ALL my men!”
Jack stared ahead, eyes shifting from the woman to the leader and back again. At last, Jack stopped no more than two feet away from them.
“Well whaddya know,” he whispered in the woman’s ear, “It’s your hero!”
The leader looked up at Jack, a cruel smile across his face. “Well now! That was a mighty fine piece o’ work ya did! Killed everyone! Never seen shootin’ like that! You hunt?”
Jack remained silent.
“Oh-ho-ho!” the leader said, “A quiet type, eh? Don’t like talkin’ to my kind? Well you sure as h--- like kill’ ‘em!”
Jack still didn’t speak, looking briefly into the eyes of what could be the next victim of this cruel man. Her eyes spoke of hate and fear.
“Well, I know how to make ya talk,” the leader said as he slowly slid the knife across the woman’s throat. He left a small rivulet of red blood running down her throat. She didn’t even scream or whimper as he did it, only swearing silently that the Devil would claim his soul.
Jack started forward but the bandit stopped him short.
“Well now!” he cackled, “Didn’t like that now did we? Well unless you want to see this poor girl in more pain, I suggest you back the h--- up!”
When Jack didn’t comply at first, the leader jerked the woman violently and Jack obeyed.
“That’s better!” the leader said gleefully, “Now this is how this’ll all play out. You gonna-”
The leader never finished his sentence as the woman’s companion suddenly stabbed the leader in the back. The bandit screeched in agony as he whirled around to face his attacker, releasing his grip on the woman. With a snarl more animal like than human, the leader tackled the man to the ground, the knife still buried in his back. Jack quickly readied his rifle and fired. The leader’s head jerked up before he collapsed on top of the man, dead. With some effort, the man shoved the leader off of him, clutching his side.
“Brian!” the woman said, voice full of concern.
Brian tried sitting up but only fell back to the ground. Jack got closer and saw that the bandit leader’s knife was buried in Brian’s side. The woman reached for it but Brian stopped her.
“Su-Susan don’t,” he whispered, “Leave it.”
“Brian, you’re hurt,” Susan said, “We need to treat that wound before-”
“Susan, I’m already dying,” Brian said, “Don’t waste your time.”
“No!” Susan insisted before whirling around to face Jack, “You! You know how to survive out in the Wastes. How to treat wounds and stuff, right? Help him! Please!”
Jack slowly shook his head, “I know how to patch up a cut, yeah, but I’m no miracle worker. He needs to see a doctor.”
“Then help me load him into that jeep and we’ll get going!” she said frantically, grabbing Brian by the armpits, “Well? Come on!”
Jack didn’t move and stared at her in sadness, “Even if we did get him in the jeep and started moving, it’ll be a four day drive to the nearest settlement. He won’t even last one.”
The harsh realization seemed to take hold but she refused to believe it. She started to drag Brian over to the jeep but Brian stopped her.
“Sis,” he whispered quietly, “Stop.”
“I’m not leaving you!” she cried, tears running down her cheeks.
“You have to,” Brian said gently, “You’re not going to die because of me.”
“But-but what about the journey?” she protested, “What about Haven?”
“Looks like you’ll have to continue the journey without me,” Brian answered.
Susan let the tears run freely now and she hugged her brother. As they shared their last moments together, Jack started thinking of Haven. Haven! The Jewel of the Wastes, or so it is said. A place where civility and peace reigned. A place where one could find hope in these dark times. It was only a rumor, Jack knew, but it seems that these two siblings firmly believed in it.
“Hey you,” Brian croaked, bringing Jack out of his thoughts and into the real world, “I know we only just met, and that you already done us one favor, but I need to ask you another.”
Jack knew where this was going but listened any way.
“I need,” Brian began, “I need you to take my sister to Haven. I want you to protect her and see to it that she makes it there safely. Can you please do that for me?”
In normal circumstances, Jack would’ve said no and walked away, but he couldn’t turn down this man’s dying wish. After a few moments of silence, Jack nodded and made his way toward the jeep. He checked it for supplies and made sure it worked. It wouldn’t last them for very long, it had only a few gallons of gas left, but would relieve them of many long days of walking. He came back from his inspection to see Susan crouching over the body of her brother. He was no longer breathing and Susan was closing his eyes for the final time.
She was no longer crying as she slowly rose to face Jack. “We should bury him. He was a good man, far better than this place ever deserved. Far better than I deserved. He deserves a proper burial.”
Jack agreed wordlessly and they buried Brian in a patch of earth not to far from where they were. Susan said her final goodbyes as the sun set, setting the sky ablaze with sorrow and grief. She placed one hand on the mound for a brief minute before she rose and followed Jack to the jeep. That night, as Jack drove down the empty highways, the survival instinct kept insisting that he ditch the girl the next chance he gets. It’s not your fight, it insisted once again, It’s not your responsibility!
Well too bad, his morals countered, Because now it is our fight.