Consequences of War

It has been four years since the war began.

Everything started when the military used nuclear weapons to eliminate those who stood against the reigning queen’s rule. Smaller cities were the first to be destroyed and had higher casualties. Citizens in the larger cities evacuated beforehand. The beautiful skyscrapers and shopping centers that were former symbols of prosperity were now hollow shells of what they once were. The post-evacuation bombings destroyed some buildings while the resulting blasts shattered the windows in others. Most of the surviving architecture fell victim to the elements and disintegrated.

As soon as things settled, the lack of government aid forced everyone who lived in the lower classes to fend for themselves. Survivors developed factions and used whatever they could find on hand to create weapons and fight each other for food and supplies. Some of the stronger factions attacked military camps stationed near surviving cities. Many of them failed in their endeavors. However, there was one faction that struck fear into even the strongest of military units.

They called this faction the Radioactive Devils.

This faction somehow knew everything that needed to be known in order to hinder the current regime’s forces outside of the walled city known as New District Columbia. Just a few miles south was a military convoy loaded with weapons, leaving the city for an outpost. As if on cue, several of the Devils rode their motorcycles alongside the convoy once it reached the end of the steel bridge marking non-regime territory. The driver of the first vehicle began honking and threatening to run the bikes off the main road. Taking this as a signal, the bikes sped ahead of the trucks and caused them to slow down. Colorful smoke grenades dropped from the bikes before the military personnel in the passenger seat could draw his weapon on the motorists. The convoy trucks all screeched to a halt.

One by one, each of the soldiers exited their trucks and surveyed the area with caution. For a while, there was pure silence. No motorcycles, no gunshots, nothing. The only audible thing was their breathing. Several cannisters rolled into the street next to the convoy as they lowered their weapons and started back towards their trucks. One soldier took notice and knelt down to inspect them. The cannisters popped open with a hiss, and the soldier collapsed. Soon after, the others followed suit.

Before long, a few of the Devils returned wearing gas masks and began hijacking the trucks. What they didn’t expect, however, was resistance from soldiers also wearing masks and unaffected by the gas. The tussle stopped for a moment as two glass bottles shattered in the grass next to the main road. Flames engulfed the grass and surrounding area where the bottles fell, but left a path clear for the trucks. Emerging from those very flames was a woman wearing baggy clothes and a military-issued gas mask.

As the brawl resumed, the woman noticed a younger soldier keeping his distance from the chaos. His hands were shaking, and his body trembled as he cowered beneath one of the armored trucks. She tilted her head and approached the truck with caution. The moment she was within direct view of the soldier, he reached for his rifle a few meters away, only for her to kick it aside.

She knelt down and got a better view of him. There wasn’t much she could tell about him, given how much the smoke and mask limited her vision. Fortunately, she could see enough of his face to determine he was far too young to be traveling with military convoys.

“Please don’t kill me!” the soldier spoke. He shut his eyes tight and held up his hands to plead innocence.

The woman held out her hand to him. “I don’t plan on killing anyone. I just want the weapons.” She said as the broken vocal projection unit in her mask gave her voice a more robotic tone. The soldier opened one eye to see her hand and then the other before allowing her to pull him from under the truck.

Her grip was firm yet gentle, but that wasn’t enough for him to trust her. She was mysterious, and everything he learned about the Devils never mentioned a woman leading them. He watched her closely as she stepped over several unconscious soldiers and gave commands to her crew. While the attention was on her, the young soldier knelt down and checked the pulses of some of his squadron. Much to his surprise, all of them were still alive.

When she finished her commands and came back for him, his heart started racing. They exchanged no words as she grabbed his hand and dragged him to the front. She nodded towards the passenger seat and climbed inside without debate.

“What’s your name, kid?” She asked.

In the driver’s seat, the woman turned over the key and the truck’s engine started with a soft hum. Before pulling off, she activated the air filtration system on the dashboard as the soldier watched in bewilderment.

“Uh, James.” He responded. “You?”

“Phoenix. So, how’d you get roped up into the military?” She pulled her mask off over her head, and he did the same. “You can’t be any older than sixteen.”

James stared at the scar on the right side of her face, completely missing the question. She snapped her fingers in his face, and he frowned as he tried to process the last few seconds.

“I…” he trailed off. “Well… the Queen sent scouts to surviving cities. She promised my family a new home in New D.C. away from the raids.”

“A kid fooled by false promises.” She snorted. “Why am I not surprised?”

“I wouldn’t expect a criminal to understand.”

Phoenix attempted to fight back a smile as the two sat in silence, listening to the gentle hum of the air filtration system. When it became too much for her, she burst into laughter. The young man beside her stared with an eyebrow raised.

“Priscilla’s always been good at manipulating people.” She stopped the truck in front of two iron gates with neon green horns and tail painted on them. “You should re-evaluate who you consider a criminal.”

She honked the horn several times in a particular pattern and the gates opened with a heavy clanging sound. Directly behind the gates were two massive towers with heavily armed guards inside, and several dogs barking at their bases. Further down were small groups of people carrying containers of food and water to the towers. As they got deeper into this new area, a hospital came into view, surrounded by makeshift homes filled with people.

Children climbed on old, broken statues, singing nursery rhymes and playing hand games. Their parents watched from afar, engaging in conversation with each other and exchanging in handmade goods. Most of their clothing was old and worn out, but many looked recently patched.

Phoenix parked the truck in an empty lot in front of the hospital while many citizens looked on. The other trucks pulled around in front of her and began unloading. James stared out his window, intrigued by the number of people living in the area.

“These people,” he started. “They’re all happy?”

“Mhm.” She hummed. “On the outside, it seems that way. They all lost homes and family because of the war. They’re more content here, but the pain's still there.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she placed a hand on the golden, heart-shaped locket around her neck. With a quick yank, she snapped the chain and handed the locket to James.

He hesitated, but took it from her and opened it with a gasp. Inside was an image of two nearly identical girls. One sat on the ground in jeans and a band tee with her hair cut into a kinky-curly mohawk. The other wore a white lace dress and had her hair styled into a braided updo. The image was strange as the girl in the dress stood with her hand on the other’s shoulder in an almost controlling manner.

It didn’t take long for James to recognize them as Phoenix and Priscilla, respectively. “The Queen is your sister? Why are you out here when you could be in the city?!”

“Priscilla’s kindness is nothing more than smoke and mirrors!” Phoenix pointed to the scar on her face. “She did this because I refused to attend one of her high-end parties! She enjoys watching people suffer. Before the war, she’d cause famines in rural areas just to watch them beg her for help. Then that escalated to turning entire neighborhoods into banquet halls for her to entertain foreign guests. As far as your family goes? She wasn’t going to protect them. If the people mattered to her, she wouldn’t have this private city.”

James placed the locket back into Phoenix’s hand and looked her in the eyes. “But you steal? How does that make you any better?”

“It doesn’t, but I give these people hope. You’re free to leave and try to go back to her. Should you decide to stay, there’s still a lot to be done around here. People aren’t going to trust you immediately.”

James looked out his window once again. He didn’t want to admit it, but the people here behaved differently. They all showed their genuine emotions. Back in the city, everyone seemed stoic until they put on fake smiles for the Queen. “I’ll stay.”