Survive Wisely

The planet survived the plague of 2020; but not the asteroid that followed. In 2022, the plague had finally subdued. As of Wednesday, July 6th, 2022, a giant asteroid the size of Luxemburg landed somewhere in the southern point of the Indian ocean, creating the world’s largest Tsunami wave wiping out Antarctica, Australia, Asia, most of Europe, South America, and British Columbia, sparing Alberta because of the Rockies. From the amount of gas expelling off the asteroid as it broke into the earth’s atmosphere, the gas was so toxic, any humans remaining were wiped out by the gas. This happened within 3 and a half days. However, only Southern Alberta was spared due to the strange forces of Southern Alberta Chinook weather. Southern towns and cities, such as Banff, High River, Calgary, Drumheller, Strathmore, Lethbridge-- to name a few.

However, the few toxins from the asteroid that cascaded down from the mountains poisoned the minds of people. Calgary and high river were left defenceless against this poisonous air, and they became hostile, barbaric, and murderous. A massacre plagued the streets of Calgary. Almost no one survived, except for five…

***

My mother found it easier to hide in the bunker embedded in the side of the coulee, letting my father, brother, and I go out hunting. After the world “broke”, as my father liked to put it, it became easier to live. 104 years ago this happened. If it weren’t for my great, great, great grandfather, my family wouldn’t have made it. He was a pure genius, he left a survival guide, one for each of his two surviving children and their spouses. He used his mind to keep power, clean water, and what was once known as the “Internet,” alive for as long as he could to collect information. They survived “the great gas,” as the nearest faction explained, saying that the family who had taught the new factions everyone knew how to live and survive without past essentials, grew and made everything from scratch. These families spread out and became known as outlanders. Factions know not to harm Outlanders in any way, as we are the reason they are still alive.

I’m proud to be an Outlander, despite what Factioners may say. We sell food or random junk in order to trade and make a living for ourselves. A lot now see us as junkies (people who scavenge for parts in old town ruins to create new weapons and tools), as they made their own technologies, grew their own food and built their own homes. Nobody lives in towns or cities. There’s some dumb rule about it amongst factions. Especially not Calgary. Something about it being a mass human graveyard. Some say there is reminisce of the gas still in the air, making you murderous, and hateful. Going there may start a plague, and nobody wants that again. Besides, history has it that anyone who goes there has never returned.

“Hey, pick up, we’re almost to High River,” my dad says to me. I shake my head.

“I hate wearing a mask! You’d think the air would be clear in these runes by now,” I complain. My brother’s muffled cackle can be heard from in front of me.

“Why do you call them runes? You sound like a nerd- oh, wait you are one!” he says taunting me. I roll my eyes.

“Callix, Gage, stop. Something’s off,” my dad says unsheathing his hunting bow. We stop. We listen and feel the earth through our leather shoes. He was right, a certain wave of vibration was off.

“Bandits dad,” I whisper. Bandits are not fun. They are castaway factioners joined together to cause problems and mayhem to factions and Outlanders. Let’s just say there is a feud between us and it’s not for any good reason. All factions have different rules to follow, and because they can’t follow their factions’ rules, they’re cast out. And for some dumb reason, because they don’t want to follow the unspoken laws of the Outlanders, they become Bandits.

“Where are they? Why are they here?” My dad whispers back. My brother pulls out his creation of a supersonic whisper device and swipes the area. Stepping carefully, to not make a sound, he sweeps his arm across the wide street.

“They’re-” before he could whisper back, Bandits come out of the ditches, holding us all at what were these contraptions they were pointing at us. My stomach lurched, telling me they were dangerous.

“Easy now,” said one of the bandits. He was tall, not all muscular, but looked strong. His face was hidden behind a mask.

“Aye boss,” a larger bandit said, “They’re outlanders,” they all chuckled.

“Listen, we don’t want any trouble,” my father spoke resheathing his bow. We put our weapons back and then raised our hands above our heads. “We just came to scavenge for supplies,” I could somewhat see the eyes of the lead bandit through his mask goggles. They were this deep green. I became mesmerized. He caught my stare and pointed his machine at me.

“What are you looking at?” he asks me coldly. I blush beneath my mask. I am terrified, and when I’m terrified, my response for some reason is to complement or console whatever is frightening me. I tried doing that to a wolf once, and somehow I survived. But, this could end up in two different ways. I could end up dead, or, screwed.

“You’re mask-” I blurted. My brother and father look at me as though I’m insane. I bow my head.

“Hey, eyes up here girl,” he growled. “What about my mask?” I take a deep breath. It was a nice mask. It looked homemade and well-fitted. It’s not often you see that on a bandit.

“It’s just surprisingly nice, it’s well crafted. Did you make it?” I ask him. The five bandits lowered their weapons, taken aback. I could feel my kin’s urges to cover their faces with their hands and walk away.

“Uh,” the bandit leader gawks, “thank you. I did make this myself.” he studies me for a moment, “Why are you here?” he asks me.

“We’re just scavenging for parts, we just want to--” he puts up a hand to stop me, dropping his weapon in his other arm.

“No, I asked why are you here.” I looked at my dad and my brother. They both shook their heads. Suddenly, the feeling of danger subsided in me, though I could still feel their fear. I nodded at them.

“I like the runes of towns and cities. My favourite place to scavenge is what is known as an athenaeum, a library if you will.” I tell him.

“A what?” Says the smaller one to the right of the leader. The bandits lay their weapons by their sides and look at them in confusion. The leader looks at me in utter confusion.

“A what now? What is a-” he’s looking for the words to say.

“You’ve never been to a library? A place for books?” I ask.

“What are books?” the big one asks. I am now taken aback. I never knew or thought that bandits or some people couldn’t read. Some factions have books, but I figured they would at least be taught how to read and write, but maybe bandits don’t have access to everything. An idea sparked in my head.

“Why are you here?” I ask the leader. Everyone is staring at me now.

“Excuse me?” the leader asks, insulted.

“Well, I didn’t mean to be rude, I just thought that while we were having a conversation, I’d ask what brings you to High River?”

“That’s what this place is called?!” a bandit in the back says.

“Wait, can she read boss?” the short one asks.

“Can you read?” the leader asks. I nod my head. “Can you all read?” he asks my brother and father.

“We can all read, but she can read better than the both of us,” my brother chimes in. My brother nudges him in the ribs. The bandit leader approaches me. I wince as he reaches for something out of his backpack. He pulls out a book with a spiral cord holding it together, he then holds it out for me to grab. I take it out of his hands, and I inspect it. My eyes widen. The title of the book, “Map of Alberta: 2019.” The map book is in Pristine condition. The pages are not dented and not even an ounce of dust or decay lined the corners.

“Where did you get this?” I asked, marvelling at it.

“Well, what is it?” the leader asked.

“It’s a map book,” I tell him.

“I know it’s a map,” he says, “It was left to me from my family, and I was too young when we were ambushed by faction mercenaries,” he tells me. “They told me I need to find Cakarey and to learn from the wise one in the city.”

“Calgary? Boy, you are chasing a myth,” my brother says. The bandits all point their weapons at my family and me.

“Watch your mouth!” the leader snaps.

“Wait, there’s no need for this!” I said, putting my hand out. He tries to take the map out of my hands, but I step away so he can’t grab it.

“Listen, I will help you if you let my family go,” I open the pages. This seems to suede the leader as he tells the others to lower their weapons, along with his.

“Do you promise?” he asks, sticking his right hand out. I look at him stunned.

“What are you doing?” I ask, staring at his hand.

“You’re supposed to shake it with your hand,” he says.

“Why?” I ask.

“So, I know I can trust you,” he says. I look at my father. He’s shaking his head no. I felt like I knew what would happen if I didn’t.

“Do I have your word then; if I go with you, you will not hurt my family,” I ask him.

“Of course,”

“How do I know if you mean that?”

“Look,” he says to me, his green eyes piercing daggers of frustration into my soul, “I’ll let your family scavenge, and we will take you back to your home where you can say your last goodbyes,” he tells me. In my gut, it said to trust him. I put out my left arm and grab his hand. He begins by shaking it up and down, so I do the same. He let go and signals to his men that we were leaving. My brother and father put their arms down and shake their heads at me. I give them a look of regret, but assurance.

***

He gave me his word. Soon, we were home just after dark. The leader pulls me aside. “Say your goodbyes now,” he says. His grip on my arm was firm.

“Let me also get some extra supply, some food, clean water, fresh clothes, books, trinkets,”

“Are you trying to stall?” he growls at me.

“No, I-”

“You what?” I’ve had enough of his temper.

“Look, clearly, you don’t trust me,” I say yanking my arm out of his grasp. This made him very bitter. “But, according to the map, Calgary is roughly a three-day trip, and I want to be prepared as you could expect any form of dangers and wildlife on the way to, and while we’re there,” this made some of the bandits uneasy. After a long pause, the bandit spoke.

“Fine, but I’m coming inside with you,” he says. I nodded my head and lead him inside. As far as I could tell, my mother had been briefed by my father as to what was going on. She gave me the side-eye, as I knew I was in trouble and had always been getting myself in trouble. This wasn’t the first time I was taken from my family by bandits. I was able to compliment my way out of that one, however, I’m not as lucky this time. My father steps behind us, closing the bunker door. I took off my mask inside, like the rest of my family do. He kept this on. Typically, this is considered rude in Outlander practice, but considering the circumstances that didn’t matter anymore. He was behind me, and a slight sense of release washed over me as I knew he couldn’t see my face. Once in my room, I take my pack off my back and empty the books I had scavenged from the library out of it. As much as I would like to read them all, I decided I would try and find new books along the way. I packed up some clothes and a herbal medicine pack and my alchemy book. After the asteroid, most turned to alchemy as a form of medicine. It’s easier to get the supplements for it, considering most chemicals are hard to extract and find, let alone make. I then grab my favourite fictional story off the shelf and a new one, I was looking forward to reading, as well as a small blanket. I also grab my cloak out of my closet and throw it over my shoulders followed by my pack. I grabbed the map and I turn around to head to the kitchen, figuring he’d be behind me watching my every move, but I stopped in the middle of my room and saw him lingering in the doorway. He was just, staring at me. Out of discomfort, I pushed past him making my way to the kitchen. I slipped my pack off, as my mother hands me a bag of food. I look inside of it and see it’s all non-perishables and some of my favourites. I stuff it in my bag.

“Thank you mom,” I tell my mother looking up. She has tears in her eyes. She hugs me and kisses me on the cheek. Tears welling up in my eyes, I hug her back tightly.

“See you get yourself out of this one, okay?” my brother says ruffling up my hair. He turns to the bandit, “Don’t scare her too much, or you might end up falling in love,” he teases. The Bandit scoffs, and my father pushes my brother sending him down the hall to his room. My father then turns to me.

“I found these in the attic. I don’t know what they are, but I have a feeling they might help you.” He hands me an odd falt device with a chord and strange block with prongs wrapped around it. The flat device had a shiny metallic back to it and a flat black shiny glass surface. He also handed me a leather journal, wrapped in a leather strap. He then hugs me and presses his forehead against mine.

“Please be safe,” he whispers. I put my hand on my father’s face to assure him, and then I turn to the leader, putting on my mask. I put the rest of the things in my pack and slung it back onto my shoulders.

“We can go now,” I tell him.

***

The first night nobody slept. Nobody trusted anybody or our surroundings. The wolves returned and repopulated after the world died. However, they heavily mutated. The wolves are now faster, stronger, and smarter. They, and the Canadian geese, which are now rightfully named cobra chickens, are the fiercest predators on the planes. Only one wolf every five months is successfully killed, and the geese… well, it’s been years.

“Why do you read so much?” the leader says. I look at him in confusion.

“I guess you wouldn’t understand, I don’t know you well but it’s pretty obvious you’re not an outlander,” I blurted, feeling less terrified and more comfortable around who I am adventuring with. “I read, so I can understand where our predecessors learned, how they built, how they stayed alive,” I tell him. He stands up from across the campfire and walks around it. He stops and sits beside me. “Some books, unfortunately, depict mankind as hopelessly twitterpated, procreation-extremest, aromantic shmucks who mostly cared about their own opinions and cellular devices.”

“Aha, could you rephrase that for someone who hasn’t picked up a book ever in their life can understand?” he asked nervously. I giggled.

“I’m sorry, I’m so used to having conversations with my family. I’m typically not allowed to interact with faction people or other outlanders.” I apologize.

“Why’s that?” he asks me.

“Because I--” before I could finish my sentence, a bandit member starts coughing. He coughs so much he begins to choke. He reached behind his head to pull off his mask. Everyone gasps in terror!

“No! Wait--” the bandit leader cries, but it’s too late. We all watch the mask fall from his hands to the ground. We all ready our weapons. As the bandit who ripped his mask off for air breathes in the fresh air deeply, he stops choking. Soon after he had realized what he had done, he promptly covers his mouth with his hands. We all ready our weapons, pointing them at him, ready to strike, for when the gas takes his mind and he becomes… homicidal.

It felt like hours went by, and there was no change in his behaviour. The bandit then sniffs the air. His eyes widen, and I tighten my grip on my daggers. He then starts spinning around with his arms outstretched and begins laughing with…

“There’s no gas! The air! It’s finally clean!” he cried. He began running further away from the campfire taking in deep breaths of air. Another bandit takes his mask off. After a few moments in the open air, he breaks down and sobs. One by one, we all take our masks off. The air felt light and raw as it hit my lungs. The only scent in the air was the campfire. I ran to the outskirts of the camp and breathed in deeply, the bandit leader chasing me. There wasn’t any smell. In history, the gas was recorded as having a foul stench of sulphur and 3-week old human corpses. But, there’s no foul odour lingering, no apparent green haze lining the grass, the dirt, or the trees. How long has it been since the air has been clear? Has the gas stitch and tinted our masks and goggles in green? I turn to return to the camp to celebrate with the others, and I turn to face the bandit leader.

Seeing his face left me breathless. His long auburn hair fell to his shoulders, and his eyes were gold, I haven’t seen anywhere; the gas really does tint everyone’s goggles. I suppose people also assume that my eyes are also a shade of green. Seeing his face, made me think he was one of the princes I had only ever read about in the books I collected. Much like the Prince from Beauty and the Beast, a beautiful yet, somewhat tragic love story.

A snap of a twig off in the distance followed by a growl breaks the camp’s celebration into silence. We all cover our mouths to restrict the sound of our breathing. We, as quietly as we can, gather around the campfire, readying our weapons. Off into the shadows towards the west, we see a set of glowing eyes. A coyote, large and feral. We are locked into a glaring battle with the fiend. Moments pass before it disappears further into the shadows. After waiting 10 minutes, we relax a bit, but not too much, in case the coyote, or worse were to return.

***

Days have passed as I have guided the group of bandits to the border of Calgary. We stop at what used to be a gas station located in a community called Somerset. There we found a second, still somewhat intact map of the heart of the city. We camped within the suburban neighbourhood known as Windsor Park for the night. I started munching on some bread and garlic butter that my mom put within my stash of food, which was starting to grow vacant of scraps and non-perishables for me to feast on. The “bandits” I were with, were seeming less like marauders and more like scavengers gone awry. Most of them were helpful and sweet. Some tried to be smitten with me, however, they were scared off by the leader, which in a sense, I suppose was protecting me.

“I suppose,” I spoke up to the leader, as we were sitting by the fire. He turned his head towards me, as I spoke, I leaned in closer to him so I wouldn’t have to speak so loudly to him as the rest of the bandits danced around the fire singing songs they had learned from their pasts, “I should thank you for not treating me like a prize or a captive,”

“What do you mean?” the leader asked.

“I’ve been kidnapped by Bandits before, and they had plans to rape me and leave me for dead on the side of a road, or bonded me in rope and chain,” I tell him.

“That’s a bit morbid,” the leader says, “How did you manage to get out of that?”

“Unfortunately for them, I complimented them to the point where they were scared that I was going to fall in love with them, so, they let me go,” I said, slightly embarrassed. The leader laughed at me.

“Well, I need you alive, and I didn’t think bounding you in chains or rope would make you compliant enough to do what I need,” he says.

“Well, at least this is the most pleasant kidnapping I’ve been through,” I giggled. I turn my gaze away from the fire and met his gaze. My heart started thumping in my chest, this time, I didn’t feel in danger. Our eyes were locked like we were both enchanted into a hypnotized state, unable to break it, until one of us…

“What’s your name?” he asked so kindly, I nearly forgot that he kidnapped me.

“Why do you need to know?” I asked.

“Because, I want to know what to call you when I need you,” he said. I blushed, and I didn’t know why.

“My name is Callix, what’s yours?” I asked in return. He smirked. This sent an excited shudder through my body.

“Saber,” he says, “My name is Saber.” We couldn’t break eye contact.

“Excuse me miss,” one of the bandits says breaking the spell we were under, “Would you care to dance with me?” he looks to Saber with his eyes pleading. Saber nods.

“Go on, Voxis, take Callix for a dance around the fire,” Saber says. I look to Saber one last time, before Voxis wraps one of his arms around my mid-back, and whisks me across the ground in a series of spins.

***

I woke up in the morning, the events of last night still lingering in the back of my mind. Now knowing in my heart, I am not meant to spend the rest of my life locked within a bunker, festering materials and trinkets to deliver between faction to faction, and to trade-off between other Outlanders. I’m more than an Outlander, I’m an outsider, an adventurer. I’m meant to discover and rehabilitate old cities and towns as they were once home; travel the world. I felt something soft and comforting stroking my hair. I look up to see Saber, not entirely awake, beneath my head. He was so calm and peaceful in his sleep. He looked down at me, as I lay on his chest, and his gold eyes seemed softer than they did the days before. They were more full of kindness, and a bittersweet twitterpation... With me.

***

We followed the now dead tracks of the city’s transit lines and made it to the city center. The center of Calgary was not vacant, it was filled with trees, foxes, deer, life. We looked in awe. We decided to check out a building known as The Core, between 7th Avenue and 3rd Street of Downtown Calgary. We entered through an old department store known as “Simmons.” The Core was massive, there were four stories, and so many stairs leading up to it. But, these stairs, once we entered the mall, started moving. Baffled by our discovery, we as a group loomed around the centre checking out different kiosks and stores.

I turn into a store called indigo, to find volumes and shelves of books. I go behind a counter, and I find a couple of bags, and start filling them with books, mainly books on how to teach. I had a feeling this group was going to need me for much longer than I thought they would want me around.

“I see you have found your haven,” Saber said from behind me, startled, I turned around. Suddenly the lights flickered on. Saber and I quickly readied our weapons. Seeing or feeling no signs of danger, we stop. We then hear beeping coming from above.

“If you are looking for power, for that phone of yours, I suggest that you look on the walls closest to the ground and there, you will find an outlet,” a voice echoed from the sky. Shocked, I turn to Saber, whose eyes were as wide and confused as mine. The group comes together on the second floor looking for whatever the voice meant. What the hell was a phone?

“Is a phone one of the objects your dad gave you?” Saber asked. Remembering the strange device, I took it out. We found an odd fixture in the wall. It matched the strange double prong doohicky that was wrapped around the “phone”. The voice within the sky continued.

“Great, now stick that power charger into the outlet, and plug the other end of the cord into the phone.” I plug it into the outlet into the wall, and the other end into the phone. The screen lit up and revealed an odd picture of a box with a red line near the far left end and it blinked a couple of times and completely shut off again. “Excellent, you did just as well as you’re ancestors! Now, leave it alone for a few minutes so it can gain power,” the voice says. We as a group looked to each other, in hopes at least one of us could sense danger. But, no one could.

***

We all sat around the phone for what seemed like hours, waiting for something to happen. Soon, the voice spoke again. “Aren’t you all hungry? There are some vending machines you all could use to get food and water from at the end of the hall.” We all begin walking down the corridor to one of the sides. To our surprise, there were these large machines full of water and some clear bags of fresh foods. Taped to the front of the machine were a bag of Ancient coins with cobra chickens, or what they used to look like at least, engraved into them. On the bag with the coins in them, there was a note that read, “Use however many of these to get some fresh water and food. If they get stuck, give the machine a good shake, worked in the past and still works now… just don’t break my goddamn machines!” We removed the coins from the front of the machine and take some out. I put the coins into the coin slot and pressed some of the buttons. The food and bottles of water fell from the shelves by a spiral pushing them, into the bottom with a Thunk! We open the bottom compartment and grab the food.

The slices of apple were sweet; apples were so rare to come by. They are beyond difficult to grow on these dry plains. While waiting for the phone to charge, Saber pulled me aside and away from the group.

“Hey, so I was going through that store,” he says pointing to a small store with glittering jewelry glistening in the broken glass cases, covered in moss and flowers. He then pulls out a silver pendant in the shape of a heart attached to some small silver chain. “And, I thought you would like it,” He grabs my left hand and places this pendant inside my palm. I blush, as it’s been a while since I’ve received such a touching gift. I pick the heart up with my hands and inspect it further. Upon flipping it over, I see that it is engraved with the words, “For My Love” in sweet, swirly letters. I tell Saber this and he blushes and scratches his head, “Oh, is that what it says?” he says nervously.

Then, I feel the ridge. I turn it onto its side and see a little indent big enough for my fingernail. I use my fingernail to pry the pendent open.

“Huh,” I say, “You found a locket,” I tell him. “I’ve only read about these in books.”

“What are they for?” Saber asks.

“Well, most people keep a picture or something inside of them to remember someone they loved, and it can be a gift from someone as a way to remember that someone by,” I tell him.

“What is something that we can put inside?” he asks.

“Well, are you willing to donate some of your hair?” I ask him. Without hesitation, he unsheaths one of my daggers from the right side of my hip and cuts off a small piece of his hair. He then ties it in a knot and puts the strand in the locket. He then closes the locket in my hand and picks up the chain. He undoes the clasp and gestures for me to turn around. I pick up my long black hair and let him wrap the locket around my neck. Once he’s done, I release my hair and turn to Saber. He picks the locket up off my chest and inspects it himself. Our eyes make eye contact, and the world for a moment just stopped. I thought I would... kiss him. I wanted to, but before I could we were interrupted by Voxis.

“Hey, the phone turned on!”

***

The phone began to sing a tune that sounded like a series of wind chimes. There was a green crescent in a white circle and a soft white bar that read “Slide to answer the call”. At the top of the screen was a series of numbers that went from side to side. I slide the green crescent across the white bar, and suddenly, a whole set of new symbols appeared on the screen.

“Hello?” a faint voice said. I couldn’t speak, I did not know how to use a phone.

“Use the speaker, if that helps.” the same voice said in the sky. I looked at the phone with the symbols and saw that underneath the symbols were words, which the one with an awkwardly shaped sideways rhombus and two crescents following reading “speaker” underneath it. I press on it with my thumb.

“Hello? Can you hear me?” said the voice.

“Yes?” I said. I looked back at my new friends and they shrugged their shoulders and looked just as baffled as I did.

“Good. My name is Eldaron, I run this city. And the only reason why you would ever dare enter the city is to look for me,” Eldaron spoke. “I am going to give you very careful instructions to get to me, I have been expecting you.” I took out my personal notebook and began writing the instructions down. We followed the tracks just like Eldaron said to, all the way to a station called “Sunalta,” there we climbed off the tracks and walked out of the station house and down towards a home labelled as “Sunalta Manor”. We almost missed this place as the building itself was covered in thick green vines. We knock on the thick, wood door. And a 50-year-old man appeared.

“Why does he look like you, Callix?” Voxis asked. To my surprise, other than our chin and eye colour, our facial structure was nearly identical. I stood with my mouth agape.

“You look like me, do I know you?” Callix asked him. Eldaron chuckled.

“No child, you do not know me personally, however,” he says, pausing after putting his hand out, “I am your great, great, great, grandfather, or, at least that’s what I presume.”

“M-my what?” I stuttered.

“Do you have the book? This would be the only way to prove it,” Eldaron asks. I remove my bag and pulled out the odd leather journal my father gave me. Eldaron took it from my hands and flipped it over. He took out his phone and just like magic, the phone lit up for a second and then stopped. Eldaron stared at his phone for a moment or two, before smiling.

“I see the camera I implanted into the journal still works,” he said smiling. You are my granddaughter, indeed. Come, we have much to discuss.” Eldaron gestured for us to follow him inside. I could not believe it, I have met my great, great, great grandfather. The arbiter of the way we live and exist now. But, how is he not dead. Wouldn’t he be… 154 years old by now? How is he still alive?