Life After

I ran, heart pounding in my ears and stolen goods in hand, away from what would have been described as justice by some and barbaric by others. Stupid, stupid, stupid. If there is one tribe you do not steal from it's the Gut-Slingers. As the name implies they are one of the few cannibalistic tribes in the area and because everyone is so afraid of them they always have the best things. I can hear them whooping and whistling behind me, leaves being torn from trees and torches like fireflies dancing through the branches. I make a left cutting through a bramble bush, feeling its sharp teeth rip at my hair, face, and arms, but I just keep running. Better to be cut than eaten.

I check back to my left hoping to see that I’ve gotten myself to the side of the tribe and out of their way, so I can cut back. This will, in theory, get them running in the wrong direction and, again in theory, have them chasing nothing instead of chasing me. I see no torches, so I veer off left again and run at an angle to avoid any stragglers. At this point my lungs are screaming and my head is pounding. I should really go for more runs or at least exercise more often if I’m going to continue making such poor decisions, but it’s too late to worry about that now. I’ll definitely start tomorrow if I just survive now. Still I run for another half mile or so then slow down to listen for any footsteps, but hear nothing other than my ragged breath.

“Where am I?” I mumble to myself trying to find a suitable spot to survey the treasures I’d just risked life and limb for. Looking off to my right I notice a massive tree with half exposed roots creating a sort of cave underneath. Ah, perfect. A nice warm dirt bed for the night. Crawling on all fours belly to the ground I’m able to make my way inside and just hope there aren’t any other creatures taking refuge here. Wouldn’t that be something. Escaping the Gut-Slingers only to be taken out by a malicious badger. “Gotta go out some way I guess.” I whisper, “Might as well by being eaten by something.” I decide that it would be better to sleep now while it's still dark out than risk lighting a fire to see by and possibly alerting of my whereabouts. It will be sun-up soon and either way I still haven’t slowed my breathing enough to enjoy whatever it was I had managed to get.

First light starts to peek through the roots of my makeshift den rousing me from a light sleep. Worry of being found kept me from sleeping very well last night, but somehow I wasn’t discovered. Being a loner in the After times is usually difficult and dangerous, but working with others is sometimes no better. I was born into a tribe that came together just a few years after the continents all shifted back together causing major flooding and giant fissures to form through some of the Before times largest cities. I am actually sitting down for a quick breakfast of foraged mushrooms in what was “Europe” all those years ago. It’s hard for me to imagine a time when it wasn’t one giant area of land littered with canyons and new formed lakes. Sinkholes pop up all the time now sometimes swallowing tribes whole. It seems just as dangerous to sit still as it does to keep moving alone. So I run stealing what I need to survive sometimes finding things to trade with other tribes. Speaking of trades. I look over at the leather satchel with the goods I almost died for, hoping something nice enough was inside to trade for some meat. I’m nothing much of a hunter, so a solid slab of meat is hard to come by on my own.

Reaching over, I grab the satchel by the strings dragging it to me. Was it really this heavy last night? Untying the satchel I gently reach in and pull out a piece of Before times technology. I think I’ve heard it called a “shine light” before by some Elders of my old tribe. I flip the switch to see if it will light up, but nothing happens. Still, these are difficult to come by. I haven’t ever seen one before so it must be worth something. I gently sit it to the side and pull out two more items. The first was a large, flat shell that isn’t seen often in the area. It isn’t even chipped. I may just keep that for myself as a reminder of last night. The second object was a small orange container with a worn label on the side. I shook it and heard something rattling inside, but when I tried to take the top off all it did was spin and spin. I toss it over to the shine light deciding to worry with it later and move to the last object in the bag. It was a piece of metal in the shape of a heart attached to a string of metal. A “necklace” I believe. It was yellow and so shiny it threw off light in the sun. I looked it over and on the back was inscribed “T.R.M & R.M.M”. The heart seemed to have a fissure running along the side and hinges. I place my thumbnail between and pulled it open. Inside were “photos” of a man and a woman in what I can only guess to be clothing worn in the Before times. I have never seen a photo before, or even heard of anyone having seen one before. I sit there a few more minutes just staring at the faces. Who were they? What were their lives like? Were they alive during the Great Shift or long before? Were they in love or related? I can only figure the letters on the backs were the letters of their names. How many names did they have in the Before?

Suddenly, I hear a loud “pop” to my right. A branch snapping. My head whips violently, eyes wild, to see what might be approaching. It only takes a second for me to register the human figure standing ten yards from me. We lock eyes and my breath catches in my throat. A Gut-Slinger. They’ve found me. I grasp the locket tightly and coil the muscles in my legs, preparing to jump up and run. Then I notice he isn’t alone. I’m surrounded. Nowhere to run. I see from the corner of my eye someone approach from in front of me. I turn to face him trembling. He is tall and muscular, brown eyes and dark hair. He is covered in scars and black ash paint. When he grins I see his teeth have been filed to points.

“Please.” I whisper, knowing it’s pointless to beg, but making an attempt anyway. “Please let me go. Take your things back, take some of my things, but please let me go.” Tears sting my eyes as I stare into eyes that haven’t held sympathy in a long time if ever.

“Let you go? Why would we let you go? It’s not often loners pass through this area. They know to stay away. They know what coming here means. What kind of message would it send if word got out that the ferocious Gut-Slingers let a thief go?” He says with heavy malice. “No young girl, no. You almost got away, but you should have run farther. Now we are hungry and you look good enough to eat.” At the last sentence he smiles and I feel my legs become moist as my bladder gives way. I feel a sharp pain at the base of my skull as one of the tribe members plunge in their knife. Then my world goes black and my story ends.