Rone

The logs shifted as they turned to dust in the crackling fire. Rone stared emptily into the near dead flames as she swayed back and forth. Arms wrapped around her knees as tears ran down her cheeks. The only thought running through her head was “Fuck, fuck, fuck”

She had planned for years but she never thought it would be like this. Society collapsed. People were infected with rage towards the evil greed-driven government that had kept them straining for so long. Gone were the everyday rules and limitations of their supposed “freedom”. True freedom was terrifying, but delicious.

Rone hoped at one point that there would be enough compassion left that some would band together, to try and rebuild something better. Something stronger that made sense, truly made by the people. But she was wrong. There was only selfishness and paranoia. There was no helping your fellow human; just ensuring your own survival. It is astonishing how fast the expected niceties disappear when it comes to life or death. There wasn’t a sense of pride in her as she thought this. She hadn’t clung to higher morals throughout this shit. She was just as selfish. More than selfish really. If anything…Rone was ruthless. She had to be; her girls relied on her.

Tonights breakdown was not the first and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. You’d think that after multiple kills it’d get easier but it doesn’t. Every life she’d taken haunted her with endless “what if‘s”. Tonight’s what if was over her most recent kill, a woman maybe in her 30’s, claimed her name was Dawn. She didn’t get a chance to tell Rone much else before blood was spewing from her throat. Dawn had asked to join Rone, claiming she had been alone and wandering for weeks after her boyfriend died. Rone analyzed Dawn quickly as she spoke. She noticed Dawn carried nothing. Not even a bag to pretend like she had supplies. There were no visible weapons, but then again Rone had 4 well hidden on her at all times, so she could have something on her. Dawn seemed alert and hydrated, not sluggish or weak, which meant that she was eating and drinking…without any supplies? It didn’t add up. That was enough for Rone to make the decision; Dawn was a threat. And in this version of the world you eliminate your threats.

In one swift motion she pulled her sawback machete from her back and silently danced her blade across Dawns neck. She watched as Dawn stumbled helplessly into a tree, clinging to it as if standing up was going to keep her alive. Her body hit the ground with a soft thud. She waited a few moments and then checked for a pulse to ensure her work was done.

Rone immediately turned back to pack up camp and move. She had to move before she could mourn.

She traveled for two days before finding a spot she liked to stop at. Her girls were annoyed at the hasty leave and non stop travel, but she tried her best to make it into an adventure. The girls thought they were on the hunt for the best camping spot ever, and that’s all that mattered. Dinner was fast and easy as always and the girls were winding down for the night in their bunks. Rone sat alone outside staring into the dwindling fire.

What if she was just a lone woman needing some help? No, that doesn’t make sense she thought. She had no supplies, no weapons, no skills. There was no way she lasted so long by herself- she was teamed up with someone else, maybe a group, to scout me out before robbing us. Or killing us. Probably both. She had to die. I couldn’t have taken that risk. So many fucking risks.

She was so scared. Scared that she had to keep doing this, scared that she wouldn’t be able to keep enduring this life, scared of what would happen if she made just one wrong decision. Everything weighed so heavily on her, and in this moment she was not the fierce unforgiving murderer she was 2 days ago. She wasn’t the goofy funny mom she was an hour ago. Now she was weak and wallowing in self pity. And although she was okay with being that way for a few moments, she knew it could not last.

She wiped her nose, pulled out a small leather bound journal from her bag, and flipped to the second to last page. She ran her finger down her previous entires studying the curves of each letter- she had beautiful handwriting. She plucked the pen from the spine of the notebook and scrawled;

#11- Dawn