Within the Shadows of a Still World...

The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. Saffie had passed by this particular cabin numerous times, but it had always been bathed in shadowy stillness. She stopped, pausing by the side of a stolid oak tree, silently brushing aside the sole yet still abundantly leafy branch the stood between her and the dilapidated, weed-choked cabin. It was the first true light, outside of her occasional own, that she had seen in, what she surmised to have been, three, long years in her little microcosm of the universe. Now, there, in the darkness of the cabin, a single, glowing flame lit the blackness of night - while the rest of the fallen world remained broken, fully immersed the obscurity of shadow.

As Saffie stared into the brightness of the candle, still trying to process its sudden existence, she felt something sidle up beside her, lightly sweeping her leg. She didn’t flinch. She knew the sound of her companion’s silence as well as she did her own, and she welcomed his protective presence. Instinctively, she reached down to gently rub the surprisingly still-smooth fur of her Gideon, a previously skittish Rottweiler she had found abandoned, strapped with chains to what appeared to have been a newly constructed doghouse – still ablaze in Fire Brick Red, even months after The Pestilence had begun ravaging the minds and bodies of the world’s population. A wooden sign, then askew, had hung above the gaping doorway. It had obviously been written by a child’s hand: Gideon, Best Dog Ever. She wondered at the time how human beings, who had apparently cared enough about their pet to build him a lovingly decorated home, could have deserted him, leaving him imprisoned, exposed to the rabid hunger of the diseased masses. But if Time had taught her anything, it was that when faced with the possibility of individual extinction, human beings were capable of – anything.

Gideon shuffled slightly forward, bringing the film reel that often clicked and clattered in Saffie’s mind to a close. The End. For now. Her canine companion had situated himself just centimeters before her, still beneath the vegetative canopy. He, too, had seen the light, and he looked back at her, waiting for her to give the signal as to whether or not they would retreat – or proceed. He had clearly found the presence of the light to be unsettling. He whined. Perceptible, she hoped, to her ears alone.

“Shhhhh,” Saffie whispered, jumping slightly at the sound of her own voice. She and Gideon had an unspoken alliance, a friendship based in quietude. They worked as individuals tethered together in an undeniable and unified energy field. He often knew what she would do before she had decided herself, and in this case, his agitation was a sign that deep down, he sensed – he knew – that her silent caution belied the fact that she intended to step onto risky ground.

…but still, she waited, hoping for some other sign – a flicker of shadow, the scraping of a chair leg, a cough – a sigh. She waited for anything and everything that might lend some indication as to what it was that brought about this sudden brightness in what she had begun to believe was eternal darkness.

Nothing. No detectable or recognizable sign came from within the confines of the battered cabin.

Gideon whined again. This time, a little louder. This time, she did not silence him, his wary canine utterances reflecting her own, admitted fear. Saffie knelt beside her furry companion, placing her hand atop his head. She trembled, faintly. This is so unlike us, she thought. These years we’ve been together, the utter chaos and outright devastation we’ve faced? And a single, lit candle has us shaking in our proverbial boots?

Maybe this is my sign?

As Saffie, still kneeling beside Gideon, contemplated what might be standing – or skuttling – beyond the fragile protection of the cabin door, she was suddenly assaulted by an onslaught of images – one being her own Mother, her face initially and faintly blemished by the disease that would eventually demolish all that she was – and could have become. Live, her Mother had managed to croak. Don’t take unnecessary chances. Don’t illuminate yourself. Embrace the darkness. Remain hidden. Survive. Before I lose myself, before I sink into nothingness, I need to know that you, my strange and beautiful daughter, will live.

So, outside of taking the risk of rescuing Gideon from his incarceration, and his own ultimate decimation, she had done as her Mother asked of her – and disappeared. She dug in, did what needed to be done. If encountered with the diseased facades of humanity, she had fought, vigorously so. …but mostly, she had run. And run and run. Through and out ruined cities and towns, and the once human population that, before, had them swimming with life - until, at last, she made her way up into the dense and relative safety of the mountain forests. …eventually becoming a mere silhouette in the penumbra of an eclipsed world.

In the early days of her escape into the mountain forest, Others followed - or they were there before her. She didn't really know. She never got close enough to anyone to ask them. They seemed to be people like her - loners looking to disappear, and over time, they got their wish - their candles, one by one, extinguished, engulfed by the darkness. She couldn't recall the last time she saw another human, though she could remember, specifically, the last human she saw: a man. Seemingly ancient - as craggy, as bushy, and as deeply embedded in the earth as the mountain, itself. She remembered thinking that he must have erupted from the mountain, borne from her womb. Because of this, surely, she thought, he would live. ...but humans were not the only beasts dwelling within the forest darkness, and one particular misty, clammy night, the old man's screams permeated the air, and then disappeared into silence, no echo trail hailing his passing.

Gideon whined again, and Saffie, consciously knowing that some action – any action - was warranted, extracted herself from her cerebral reminiscences and eased herself back into The Moment. She glanced back at the candlelight, soaking it in. She had always believed that light existed even in the dankest dreariest darkness, but light, to her, over the years, had undergone an evolution of its own. It was no longer a beacon to the tired and weary – a sign of hope – but instead, it had transmuted into a signal of danger, elucidating the potential - not of the good of humanity, but instead, the more primally and subjectively driven evil that exists within not just the disease-plundered humanoids that roamed the earth, but the sentient survivalists who tapped into the primitive aspects of self, laying waste to anything that might interfere with their chance at breathing another day.

Still. As the flame in the window remained steady, the ember that unknowingly had remained indelibly ensconced at Saffie’s core began to grow.

Don’t take any unnecessary chances. Don’t illuminate yourself.

Unnecessary chances? To Saffie, the words chance and unnecessary had become intermingled, fused together in a desperation-driven partnership – one that Saffie had felt would be deathless, immortal. But in that moment, she felt an unraveling.

What is living? she asked herself. Is it becoming one with the darkness, until you lose all facets of yourself completely?

She looked down at Gideon, who had already prophesied her impending stare.

She knew it was not just her life she was risking. “I love you,” she whispered. Gideon cocked his head, as if he hadn’t heard her clearly the first time. She smiled. “I. Love. You,” she repeated, and after pausing just a mere tick in time, he gently nuzzled her hand in response.

With Gideon, Saffie had taken the one real chance of illuminating herself during her tenure amongst the pestilent masses. That risk had ultimately brought her companionship within the shadows, warmth in the dank chill of the darkness. It had brought her unquestioning love within the emotionless cruelty of the new world.

Don’t take any unnecessary chances.

These words once spoken by her Mother now began to fade into her subconsciousness. She loved her Mother. …but if she, Saffie, were to live – truly live – “chances” must divorce itself from its toxic bond with “unnecessary.” Saffie had survived, yes. But now, she experienced the expanding sense that she needed to begin living, and living, she now began to believe, might just mean taking chances.

Saffie lifted the sole but still abundantly leafy branch of the oak tree and stepped under it. She took a few hesitatingly cautious steps forward, silently cursing as her feet crunched within the dried and rotted leaves that remained, carpeting the forest floor. Gideon obediently followed, stepping cautiously and far more silently than she had done.

She found herself soundlessly counting, One, two, three, four…

Until she approached the rickety steps leading to the fragility of the cabin door. She took a deep breath and ascended, Gideon willingly following. She stood on the decaying steps for what seemed an eternity, and then, with timid determination, she reached, her hand poised at the precipice of an invisible cliff leading to the unknown that waited for her beyond the rusty handle of the cabin door.

Suddenly, she stopped, like a foraging raccoon, frozen in its tracks within the flood of motion-activated light.

She thought she heard something. Intentionally perceptible? She felt so. She looked at Gideon for confirmation, his canine ears far more sensitive to sounds not meant for human ones. He tilted his head, staring intensely into her eyes, validating her suspicions. She hesitated, her surprisingly steady hand still hovering above the corroded door handle.

Without any true warning, and with a whiff and a creaky whirr, the handle turned. From the other side. The door opened, slowly but assuredly, gradually bathing her in light, eventually and fully illuminating her.

And then a voice. Assured? Powerful? Pleasant? Monstrous? She wasn’t sure. She wasn’t given enough time to process it. It was as if the winds of the world sighed into her mind, soundlessly whispering into her soul.

“You came,” it said.