A Walk in the Sun

The sun had not fully awoken the world making it the ideal time for Lachlan to slip out. He had done all his chores early. Despite this being his only official day off, the foreman would likely still be enraged at his absence. It was worth the risk for today he was seeing his siblings.

The narrow alleyways winded about the shantytown. He moved furtively, conscious of any movement around him. Alone he was vulnerable. Fortunately he lived close to his cousin Marshal. He found him leaning against the rickety fence of his home. Marshal was older at 23 and, unlike Lachlan, was heavy-set. He had the brown eyes of the family. He could’ve been considered handsome if not for the huge scar that traced the bottom of his right eye, his cheek, and through his top lip. Immediately Lachlan felt a surge of relief in his company; Marshal was a fighter, not he.

He stood. “You’re ready?”

“I am.”

Marshal looked skeptical. “Both the Chateau and the priests are insane. Not to mention the gangs roaming the city.”

“I know but we have to try.”

“The Chateau hates everyone beneath them and the Sun Priests? They’re brains were just fried from the sun flare,” Marshal grunted.

“Well, they’re both here to stay. Let's get on with it,” Lachlan said with grim determination.

Lachlan was a triplet. After their parents died many years ago their relatives had sold each child over a short span of time. Edith was sold first at 9 years old to the Chateau, his brother, Grey, months later was given to the priesthood, and soon after Lachlan was sold to a corporation who refurbished furniture.

It was their 17th birthday.

They began the long walk through the city. The sky went pink to gold as the sun rose. As soon as it peaked over the line of townhouses the cousins felt its incredible and pervasive heat. In all recorded history the sun had never been stronger than the modern day, causing even a Canadian summer to reach temperatures once only seen on the equator. Twice the cousins had to duck into empty houses for short rests. There were plenty to choose from. The Sun Flare of 2111 had decimated humanity, enough for the population of humanity to be at least halved. As if reaching out to smack the planet, the sun’s flare almost destroyed the electromagnetic field of earth wiping out satellites, telecommunications and the power grid. With no power to deliver food and water to the masses, death came in the form of starvation and dehydration. Fighting for resources had further devastated the world. Now in 2131 the very wealthy had power and maintained a society behind massive fortified walled communities called Chateaus while the rest of humanity still lived in desperation and squalor as they clung to any amount of power they could get from generators or manually charged batteries.

The colours of the city were dull grey and whites. Even on the newer homes built twenty years ago the paint had faded and cracked considerably. Garbage and excrement was stacked high in empty lots and the smell was so putrid it could be smelt from blocks away. Lachlan and Marshal passed a few such piles.

They saw a pack of children as wild as animals who were hunting rat, cat, and dogs with knives. Lachlan might’ve said hello but he knew one had to avoid starving individuals.

The cousins passed a massive truck. The logo on its side read: New Legacy.

Lachlan’s face gnarled instinctively. It was a corporation from the Chateau come to steal some of the property in the abandoned homes. They’d take everything— furniture, homes, even the foundations— then resell it to the lowly populace. They had the resources to melt down or repair such things while the common people did not. It was a rival corporation to the one he worked for, but Lachlan loathed them all equally.

“They take more of the stuff that should belong to us,” Marshal grumbled.

They came to the most dilapidated area in town. Here the buildings, constructed upwards of two hundred years ago, were falling into ruin due to lack of maintenance. From the outside no one would think they were occupied but they’d be wrong.

“Halt!” shouted a man somewhere on a rooftop. “No further!”

Marshal gave Lachlan a nod to stay calm. This was their destination and a cold reception was to be expected. The Sun Priests were in constant conflict with the Chateau and the corporations it birthed.

“Grey’s brother.” A man exited one building, a woman behind him. They wore brown, filthy robes made of cotton. Existing in such garb would cause immense discomfort in the heat but this was how they showed devotion to the sun. They were dirtier than even the average person, which was saying a lot.

“We’ve come to see him,” Marshal declared.

The man frowned. “... Your purpose?”

“Our birthday. I am allowed,” Lachlan replied.

The sentinel stared at them for a moment as if undecided and then shrugged. “Follow.”

They followed the sentinels deeper into their domain. Their sanctuary was an all-white church, a monument of a forgotten era. Long before they reached them the doors of the sanctuary opened and an imposing figure stood blocking their way. The leader of the Sun Priests, Father Ramses, was the mangiest of them all. He was a tall man with brown hair, beady eyes, and a sharp aquiline nose. While the rest of his flock were darkly tanned, the priest’s face was ghostly white.

“Laurence,” Marshal said archly.

Father Ramses glowered. “I am Father Ramses. Non-believers are not allowed inside.”

“We all owe life to the sun,” Marshal said. “Every human. Despite it also killing so many of us...”

“The sun did no such thing. It granted us life. A new VISION!” he exclaimed, raising his hands and basking in the torturous rays. Sweat dripped off his fair face.

“Careful Laurence, you will burn out here too long,” Marshal smirked.

“You heathen—”

Lachlan redirected his attention. “My brother, Father.”

“I am here.”

Grey stepped from behind Father Ramses. He and Lachlan looked similar. Grey was thinner, slightly taller yet both had swarthy features. Lachlan’s hair was curly. Grey’s hair would’ve been too but the Sun Priests kept it shaved down.

“Grey!”

“Lachlan.”

Lachlan went over to him. “It’s our birthday. Let’s walk and get Edith.”

“For what purpose? I will not drink.”

“To be together.”

“This is the last time we’ll see each other,” Grey said before stepping backward into the church. The shade darkened his face like a cloud had blocked out the light in it.

Lachlan took half a step forward but Father Ramses slithered in between them. He only then saw a woman behind Grey. She was short with reddish brown hair and blue eyes. She glared, put a hand on Grey’s shoulder, and slammed the white church door.

“Leave,” said Father Ramses with a triumphant gleam in his eyes.

Marshal touched his arm. Still in disbelief they walked away with angry eyes boring into their backs.

He had envied Grey. He had a family even if they were zealots. They hadn’t allowed the brothers to see each other as frequently as he wanted. It had been enough to know Grey was cared for by the Sun Priests. They seemed as devoted to raising him right as they did studying their god the sun yet now Lachlan did not know how to feel about them. He couldn’t believe that would be the last he’d see of his brother.

The two walked on in brooding silence. By now those who inhabited homes were awake. The city, what was left of it, was alive. Outside most occupied homes were small fires where people cooked their food. Any sort of morsel or unfortunate creature they could get ahold of found its way into a fire. Still, the aroma of charred meat and vegetables only slightly diminished the smells of waste.

On purpose they went a route past Old Dennis’ home. He was an aging man who railed against the Chateau and would tell stories of better times. He told them wondrous tales of cheap food in supermarkets, refrigerators storing such food, endless showers with warm water, sport games. He would sit on his porch in the shade. However, today the old man was not in his rocker. Instead his wife was there, crying.

The cousins looked at each other. They were unsure what to say to her, so they pressed on.

They reached the edge of town where a smaller road led up a hill to the Chateau. The stronghold’s 20-foot high walls were made of stone but also had wiring which could electrocute a person. Atop the walls were cameras and armed guards. The rich elites had spared no expense to keep themselves safe.

A tall, imposing guard above the gate called out.

“Stop right there!”

Before they had time to respond, a voice rang out, “He’s here for me.”

In the small gap between the wall and gate, his sister, Edith, came into view. She was swarthy and brunette like her brothers with a natural beauty, however she wore a considerable amount of dark makeup.

The guard kept glaring at her visitors.

“Please,” she said.

“You’ll owe me.”

She understood his meaning. “I will. Later.”

The guard moved away only a few steps but it was enough for them to be able to exchange whispers through the gap.

“Each time you visit it costs me,” she said, hotly.

“I’m sorry it does,” Lachlan said. “But how are you?”

“I’m alive.”

“You’re wearing a lot of makeup,” Marshal remarked.

She shrugged. “They like me to. Why did you come?”

“This is our birthday.”

A look of confusion crossed her face before sadness took its place. She had forgotten.

She drew something out from her pocket and laid it on her palm to show him. It was an old, well-preserved bronze heart-shaped locket. Lachlan knew it was an heirloom from mother dating to 1920. It was beautiful despite missing the necklace it was supposed to be attached to. Mirroring her, Lachlan reached into his pocket to retrieve a digital watch, an heirloom his father bequeathed to him dating 2020. The watch was not rare or expensive at the time, but with the loss of technology, it was now a valuable trinket. They both were.

“The last things our parents gave us,” she said, tearful.

“E, what are you doing?” shouted a thunderous voice.

She looked behind her, startled. “I—”

“What have I told you? No visitors! Ever!”

An unseen man grabbed her arm and yanked her away with such force the locket went spilling onto the ground.

“No!” Lachlan yelled.

“Take it!” she cried, before he heard a door slam shut.

Lachlan reached through the tiny gap with a finger to pick up the locket. He looked at both heirlooms before pocketing them. The distraught cousins walked back down the path. After some time, Lachlan drew the locket out again, twirled it in two fingers for some moments and, at last, opened it.

A sepia toned picture of a woman in an odd black dress smiling at the camera. When the locket had fell on the cement the glass cracked making the picture loose in its casing. He carefully pried it free. The back of the picture read “lake cabin.”

He had a brief flash of memory and, suddenly, he knew where it would be.

“So ... what now? Back home?” Marshal asked.

“Not yet.”