Little Flower

The sun gleaned red through the thick cloud of sand roaring over the crumbled buildings of a society now dead. Mounds of sand stacked themselves against the grumbling buildings, reaching towards the sky. Cutting through the buildings, was a wide path made of black rocks and faded colored lines. Shielded by the ruins from the heavy winds and sand, the road gave the nomads a clear path to a promise. A new society was said to be rebuilding to the east, welcoming others to join and contribute. But, with such a clear path, comes a clear opportunity as well. Walking along the road were two girls. The youngest, Sophie, being only 9 years old, and Trista 15. The girls were dressed in fabrics draped over their shoulders like ponchos and their heads were wrapped in thin cloth with goggles protecting their eyes from the sand. Trista held on tightly to Sophie’s hand as she led her through the storm. “Stay close to me Sophie! Hang onto your flower!” She yelled over the wind. Sophie took the flower in her hand and stashed it away in her poncho. The girls hung to the left side of the path so the buildings would offer more protection against the intense winds. The girls pushed forward until suddenly a dark silhouette appeared before them. Trista stopped and waited a moment hoping that it was a simple shadow dancing in the sun's light. After a moment Trista stepped forward and called out into the blowing sand.

"H-hello? Is someone there?" Her voice was loud over the wind, but held a quiver of fear. The figure remained still as two more approached behind the girls. The girls froze as two more appeared beside the first figure. Sophie cowered behind Trista. The bandits began to shift; cornering them against a sand mound. The bandits conversed with muffled voices, covered by the wind. As they inched forward the girls could see they wore tattered fabrics in the fashion of robes and hoods. Of the five bandits, one held a hunting rifle, and another a pistol. The bandits' sinister laughter emerged from the roaring wind.

"Alright girly." The bandit with the pistol spoke up. "You seem like a girl with a reasonable head on your shoulders. If you give the little one over to us, we will let you walk free, Sound fair?" The man's voice held charm. "What's it gonna be sweet heart?" Trista stepped farther in front of Sophie, and moved her hand into a layer of her draped fabrics clasping the handle of a knife.

She whipped the knife from its sheath, "Never. I would rather die!" she held it pointed out towards the bandits and swiped the tip of the knife at them. The bandits busted out laughing amongst them.

"Suit yourself." The man with the pistol yelled out. He aimed his pistol up to Trista's head. A loud crack rang out between the buildings. The girls flinched and crouched down. The bandit with the pistol instantly dropped to the ground. The other bandits whipped around looking for where the shot came from, but the sand made their search useless.

A heavy sigh exited the lungs from the Rifleman. He lay prone on the balcony of one of the buildings overlooking the majority of the path. He cracked his neck on both sides. Still looking down the sights of his rifle, he reached to his right for a clearly weather megaphone. He pinched the circular switch on the butt-end of the mega-phone causing a second of loud feedback to echo through the buildings. He stood up and balanced the barrel of the rifle atop the railing of the balcony, and cleared his throat. The man brought his sight back to one of the bandits' heads and held the megaphone close to his mouth. "Run." His voice was raspy and deep, giving the mega-phone an extra boost of bass as he spoke through it.

Sophie peered out from behind her companion. "папочка?” Another shot cracked out, striking one of the bandits. His silhouette dropped to the ground. Trista quickly swooped Sophie up into her arms and began to sprint East, but she and Sophie were wrestled, by a bandit, to a narrow gap between a sand mound and a building. He stood in cover blocking them from escape. The remaining two bandits quickly found cover. The bandit with the hunting rifle laid prone along a pile of rubble. He looked down into his cross-hair trying to spot where the shot could have come from. He looked over to the other bandit and signaled him to try stepping out. The other bandit nodded reluctantly. He slowly stepped from his cover looking up to where he had heard the shot come from.

The Rifleman said to himself, "Wrong way." He pulled the trigger landing a shot into the back of the bandit's right arm. The bandit violently spun around and landed on his back. He weakly lifted his left hand up towards the building where he was shot. His silhouette jumped as another shot cracked out ending his life.

The girls stayed on the closed end of the gap away from the bandit, holding each other. The man watching them peered his head out from the gap to try and see what was going on outside. Trista pulled her knife back out from the layers of her clothes and examined it. She looked at Sophie, pulling her wrappings away from her face, and smiled. She wiped a bundle of hair out of her face, and back under her head wrapping. "Stay right here, ok Sophie?” Trista reached into Sophie's pancho and pulled out a pressed dandelion. She took Sophie's hand and placed the flower in it. “I will be right back here with you, ok?" She said softly. Sophie nodded.

Sophie said in a sweet voice. "Be careful Trista." Trista nodded and began to creep up behind their captor. She held the knife with the blade facing towards the back of her palm. Once she was a few feet away she stood up and sprinted full force towards the bandit. He turned around hearing movement and was caught off guard as Trista tackled him out from the gap and back out into the open. She pushed off his chest and swung her knife down towards his neck. She grunted and yelled savagely as she attacked. He caught her hand and grunted as he pushed back. He was clearly stronger than her, as he was pushing the knife farther away.

The Rifleman noticed the movement from his high perch and turned to see the two silhouettes struggling. He stood up and hugged the doorway to the balcony. He attempted to get his sights to the two fighting, but he could not quite get a good shot. He slowly inched his way out onto the balcony until he could clearly see the two silhouettes. He examined them closely, not sure of which of the figures was the girl. He inhaled deeply and held still. He pulled the trigger shooting the figure on the ground in the head. The flash from his rifle revealed him to the other bandit. The bandit quickly snapped his rifle to the balcony and fired a single round. The Rifleman collapsed back into the room from the bullet hitting the back of his left shoulder.

The last bandit waited a few moments before rising to his feet and dusting himself off. A smug smile stretched across his face, satisfied with his marksmanship. From behind the last bandit, five more figures approached him. Trista could hear the men conversing in the storm. She took a moment to catch her breath before retreating into the gap to retrieve Sophie. They both ran out and headed East. Sophie looked back towards the buildings until they disappeared in the sand.

The Rifleman groaned at the pain of his wound. He gritted his teeth as he used his rifle to help himself back to his feet. He shuffled to the doorway of the balcony. He turned his gaze to where the two girls were stashed, and watched their silhouettes disappear into the sand storm. He smiled to himself satisfied. He turned his head and slowly peered from the door frame to see more bandits had arrived. He kept his satisfied smile wide across his face.

"Finally..... Finally." His voice cracked a little. He composed himself with a grunt, and lifted his rifle back atop the railing of the balcony. He reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a single bullet with a white tip. He emptied his hunting rifle of its original ammo, and loaded the special round. Across the wide path from him, on the bottom corner of a tall building, was a yellow piece of fabric flying in the wind. Below the small marker was a square object about a foot both tall and wide wrapped in a few layers of plastic. The Rifleman racked his last round into the chamber of his rifle and aimed his sight over the square. He steadied his aim and fired. The shot cracked, freezing the remaining bandits in place. The square package erupted with a loud explosion, shattering the support of the building. A loud and deep rubble grew louder as the tall building began to collapse. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a gold heart shaped locket. He opened it to reveal a little girl smiling while on a swing. He Held the locket tight to his chest. "I am coming, my Маленький цветок." He closed his eyes. The building violently crashed across the road, crushing the Rifleman and the bandits.

The girl stood in line with other refugees. The air was breathable and lots of green vegetation covered the ground. The main guard held a clean military grade rifle in his hand, and was dressed in military camo and equipment. He allowed a couple through their gates before turning back around and calling out to the girls. "Next!"

The girls stepped forward. Two guards, similarly dressed as the first, stepped up to the girls and quickly searched them. They discovered Trista’s knife, and set it aside on a metal tray with other paraphernalia. One more guard stepped forth. He was dressed like the others, but he wore a pair of clean white plastic gloves. He gave them both a quick examination for any obvious diseases, or injuries. The doctor finished and nodded to the head guard in front of the gate. The three guards reset to their positions, and the main guard opened the gate for the girls. "Go on in." He said in a kind voice.

The girls walked into the walled community built into many tall buildings with people peering out of windows from top to bottom. Vendors called out on either side of them offering a variety of goods. Trista looked around in awe. She smiled at Sophie, and offered her hand. Sophie looked at her hand for a moment, then around for her father, she turned her head back toward where they had come from. She looked back to Trista's hand and clasped it tightly.