ã€ŠLord of the Last Lightã€‹


 Chapter 1 - Ashes & Orders

    The sun was setting, painting the horizon in hues of gold and pink. The colors danced across the sky, licking at the clouds that drifted lazily through the breeze. The spring air was wet in my lungs, the humidity lurking in the late hours when the sun began to set. The springtime brought back so many memories that now roved through my wandering mind.

    Memories of school days coming to a close, nearing the summer months where we were free from the burdens of education and able to live the lives we wanted. I can still remember tramping through the woods with my friends, pretending to be knights on an adventure or soldiers marching through a foreign land. How young and carefree we were.

    Fonder memories floated to the surface, memories of young love refused to subside. My first relationship, sitting at the edge of the lake as we chatted for hours into the night, my hand drifting onto hers. The smell of her sweet perfume mixing with the earthy smell of the sloshing lake water. The algae blooms swimming on the surface, our feet dangling in the water as the greens stuck to our skin. What a time to be alive, what an experience to have, even if it only lasted a few months I could still look back on the experience and appreciate what I had.

    Still fonder yet I recalled the times at my house with my friends. The night air was still cold as the warmness of summer had yet to arrive, but the fire that burned brightly before us warmed our bodies. Songs of summer played through a cheap speaker as we drank down beer and ate plenty of pizza. Laughter and crude jokes bounced between the group, as the nights continued the drunkenness rose with a crescendo before falling as the pizza soaked up the alcohol, dulling the buzz. Those times were easier.

    There were so many memories to reflect on, so many memories to reminisce on, so much that I took for granted.

    But ultimately that¡¯s the way life goes, you never realize you¡¯re in the ¡®good old days¡¯ until they¡¯re just the past.

    What I¡¯d give to go back, do things differently, hell even to just relive-

    ¡°They¡¯re here,¡± Patrick said, snapping me out of my reminiscence.

    I looked down the road, spotting the group he was talking about. Only four of them, haggard and weary. Four figures, three looked to be men and the last was a woman, judging from the way they walked and the orientation of their group. They were in a rough diamond shape, with the woman at the rear.

    ¡°Any intel?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Negative, they seem to be coming from Wally¡¯s realm, but other than that we got nothing.¡±

    Four figures from the husk of an old Walmart five miles out. Outcasts, deserters, or just passing through. It was risky to chance an encounter, but they weren¡¯t going to pass through our domain and not touch anything. They were on the edge of town, if they were scavengers they¡¯d loot what they could and move on, but if they weren¡¯t they could pose a threat. Hell, even the scavs nowadays were usually a problem, our resources weren¡¯t infinite.

    Our scouts were scattered throughout the town, slowly funneling supplies back to the ¡®castle¡¯ as we called it, our headquarters. The majority of our group lived out of The Castle, the remnants of a grocery store and drugstore that were now connected, located on the edge of town.

    It was a good spot to keep our people held up in, unsuspecting to a degree with plenty of room for expansion, plenty of room for growth, plenty of room to survive.

    The scouts roamed the town, collecting useful supplies while keeping an eye out for danger. They were the reason we had an inkling that a group would be headed this way. One of them had heard some gunshots that sounded closer than normal, we sent a scout ahead to check it out and they spotted this group moving towards town.

    Usually Patrick, our scout leader, would handle outsiders encroaching on our territory but I needed some time away from The Castle, needed to clear my head.

    ¡°Take a look,¡± Patrick said, handing me his pair of binoculars.

    I grabbed the rusting things, peering through the lenses to look at the group more closely. Getting a more detailed look I could tell they were even mangier than I previously assumed. Their hair was filthy, sticks and dirt filled the nests of puffed out greasy hair. The three men had overgrown facial hair that lacked any sort of care, and every one of them had open cuts along their arms like they¡¯d just pushed through piles of thornbushes.

    Each one had rifles, and at least two had handguns strapped to their legs. Machetes hung from each of their hips, different makes and models each. Generic loadouts that are common nowadays. The weapons looked well-worn, paint chipped and probably never cleaned.

    If my father were to see the way they cared for their weapons he¡¯d have an aneurysm, I chuckled to myself at that. I wish he could still have that aneurysm, as grim as it sounds.

    A mangy bunch, wandering into our territory. Judging by their demeanor and the distance they were keeping from each other they weren¡¯t too close to one another. So what could have transpired that ended up with them traveling together? Who knows, only them I suppose.

    ¡°What¡¯s the protocol from here?¡± I asked Patrick.

    I knew the protocol, just as well as he did, he was part of the council that approved it, I was the one who drafted it.

    ¡°Send in a litmus test, see how they react.¡±

    A litmus test was how we determined how to handle new wanderers, seeing how they react to stimulus to gain a basic understanding of their temperament and demeanor. The litmus test had a sliding scale depending on how armed or dangerous the wanderers appeared.

    The litmus test was one of the first systems approved by the council ¡ª part of our protocol to maintain peace without being reckless.

    ¡°Send it,¡± I confirmed.

    I wasn¡¯t here to act as the field commander but being the leader of our group it was natural for the others to look to me for guidance and confirmation, something that wasn¡¯t always ideal.

    Patrick''s radio beeped as he pressed the transmit button, ¡°Freya, go for litmus.¡±

    ¡°Copy,¡± the radio crackled back.

    Some of the commune thought we were pseudo militants, which was partially true. They thought our system was almost barbaric, which if they knew the whole truth was closer to reality than it seemed. But it was necessary. We kept the order, we made sure everyone had food and water, everyone had shelter, and everyone was cared for.

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    I only ever pushed for efficiency, and if being efficient meant we were sort of militant then I¡¯d take that tradeoff. Our radio usage was one example that our opposition used, saying that we were pretending to be soldiers in the field. This wasn¡¯t exactly wrong, but we weren¡¯t strict with the usage. If we were actually militant we¡¯d be using confirmations in our copy transmissions, but we didn¡¯t.

    A scream erupted from the house across the street. Following the scream came cries of help, originating from Freya. They sounded desperate, more so than was necessary but it didn¡¯t hurt.

    I watched through the binoculars gauging the reaction from the group. The three men had mirrored reactions, emotions flashing across their faces in quick spurts. You could see the worry as they gripped their rifles tighter. This worry then gave way to curiosity as they looked back at one another. Then this curiosity turned to something unreadable but so recognizable.

    I shifted my focus to the woman, who was looking at the men with apprehension, her body subconsciously shifting further away from the trio that were now looking more unified than before.

    I let out a sigh, calculating the cost to reward ratio of the gear they were carried. It was performative in all reality, I¡¯d already made up my mind.

    ¡°Drop the three, bring in the girl for questioning.¡±

    ¡°Overwatch, come in,¡± Patrick spoke into his radio.

    ¡°Overwatch here, copy.¡±

    ¡°Drop the three men.¡±

    He switched channels, ¡°Freya, move for interception on the woman.¡±

    ¡°Freya, copy.¡±

    Overwatch was the team of two that were on either side of the road, hidden in tree stands wearing camouflage to hide from any prying eyes. It was things like this that gave more credit to the militant label.

    A muted hiss cut through the air. The first man crumpled before his brain registered he¡¯d been shot. The second followed, his rifle slipping from his grasp as he hit the pavement. The third looked around in fear, the hunger and lust in his eyes vanishing in an instant. The fear didn¡¯t last long, a round dropping him next. The woman looked around for the briefest second, turning on her heel to run.

    ¡°Drop your weapon!¡± Freya shouted, emerging from behind the house she had been screaming from, rifle raised in the woman''s direction. The woman barely registered the words, but the shouts continued.

    ¡°Drop your weapon, get down on the ground!¡±

    Freya was aggressive, which was why we had her on these types of jobs, she was what we classed as an enforcer. Usually more hot headed than others, capable of outbursts like this. The majority of them just needed someone to look to as a leader and they performed quite well.

    The human psyche is a complex thing, but once you understand parts of it it becomes easier to take advantage of.

    For instance, this woman is obviously weary from her travels, she¡¯s most likely hungry and thirsty, which would mean her mind is already struggling. Her trek seems to have been difficult based on her general appearance, and she just watched all three of her traveling partners drop dead in front of her. Even if she had no real affiliation with them this would be mind numbing.

    Freya¡¯s authoritative voice and demanding shouts broke through this haze, the uncertainty of what she should do was lulled by the resolute orders that were being shouted at her. She went defensive, for her sake that¡¯s a good thing, and she slowly complied.

    She lowered the rifle that shook in her hands, placing it on the ground.

    ¡°Put your hands in the air!¡± Freya shouted, as the woman complied.

    You would think Freya had been a police officer before, the way she commanded the situation, disarming the woman, zip tying her hands together as she removed her handgun and machete from her hip. But to my knowledge that was not the case, she worked as a cashier at one of the hardware stores in town.

    ¡°Castle, this is Scout Leader, come in,¡± Patrick spoke into his radio.

    ¡°This is Castle, copy,¡± the radio crackled back.

    ¡°We need a scavenge team out at the intersection of Webster and 58. If there¡¯s an adjudicator around, send one out.¡± the junction that was just ahead of where the dead men lay in the road.

    ¡°Copy that. Scavenge team being dispatched, available adjudicator has been notified, will be en route if available.¡±

    The scavenge team would come out, strip the bodies of anything useful, and toss them into the woods. We could just leave the bodies and wild animals would take care of them, but it was better practice to not leave human remains in the middle of the road. We¡¯ve all done some terrible things in a world like this, but it¡¯s important to retain our decency.

    The adjudicators were a select few that were used as interrogators, a newer position that we had recently developed. Being too open and too welcoming to strangers had bit us too many times in the past. Adjudicators were skillful in social manipulation, and seemed to have an eerie ability to determine if someone was lying or not.

    ¡°Scout Leader, come in,¡± Patricks radio crackled, Freya¡¯s voice.

    ¡°Scout Leader, copy.¡±

    ¡°Ready to transport the woman back to The Castle.¡±

    ¡°Copy, proceed.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a shame it had to end like that,¡± I commented, looking out at the still bodies that lay in the road.

    ¡°They made their choice,¡± Patrick replied dryly.

    ¡°Do you think they would have chosen differently if they knew what was at stake?¡±

    ¡°Does it matter?¡±

    Does it matter? Truly, it doesn¡¯t, but I still can¡¯t shake that optimism that lurks within me. I want to see the good in people, in all people, but the more I¡¯m forced to make the hard calls the more I¡¯ve realized that there isn¡¯t good in all people.

    I¡¯d always known that people were corrupt in essence, human nature is self serving. I mean it makes sense, if you have a choice to protect someone you don¡¯t know or yourself and you can only save one the majority of people will choose themself. Sure there are those that would spring for self-sacrifice, but it was a lot easier to say you would sacrifice yourself in a hypothetical than it is to throw yourself in harm''s way when there¡¯s a gun pointed in your direction.

    When we were thrust into this situation we had to adapt fast, figure out what needed to be done and make it happen. That¡¯s where I stepped in. It¡¯s hard to know who can remember the details from those threeish years ago, but hopefully they don¡¯t remember anything too specific.

    I¡¯m sure if the realities of what transpired back in The Castle were to come to light, hell even some of the tales from our earlier excursions were to come to be shared there would be an uproar. There¡¯s a reason things were kept secret, not shared around to everyone.

    The only ones that know the truth of what went down are the council and those who partook, my closest confidants. It fills me with disgust to think about what we did, but we had to. Someone had to make a move, and I damn sure wasn¡¯t waiting for it to be someone else. Way back when, in the spring of 2025 when shit hit the fan.

    ¡°Scout Leader, this is Freya, clear for transport,¡± Patrick¡¯s radio crackled.

    ¡°Copy, you¡¯re clear,¡± Patrick said with a click.

    ¡°Does she always refer to you as Scout Leader over coms like that?¡± I asked, prodding my friend.

    ¡°It¡¯s because you¡¯re in the field with us today, she wants to appear proper,¡± he replied.

    ¡°So then what does she usually call you?¡± I asked, partially out of curiosity, I already knew the answer, I just wanted him to confirm it.

    Judging by the way his face blushed I could tell I hit my mark. He looked off to the side of me, embarrassed. I smirked at him, he all but confirmed my suspicions. He had a thing for Freya he was trying to hide.

    Usually the teams would refer to their team leads by their codenames, in case teams had any similar sounding names this would eliminate any confusion. But I thought I could sense some sort of tension between the two of them. Relationships within teams were generally discouraged, but that wasn¡¯t a rule per say. Besides, who was I to intervene?

    ¡°Come on, let¡¯s go see which adjudicator is on duty today.¡±

 Chapter 2 - Order Among Ashes

    ¡°You think she¡¯ll luck out and get one of the nice ones?¡± I asked.

    ¡°You think any of them are nice?¡± he asked rhetorically.

    None of the adjudicators were nice per se, but some were more favorable to deal with than others.

    Patrick and I were sitting next to each other some distance away from the woman. Looking at her more closely it was evident that she was hardened to some degree. Maybe not in terms of fighting, but at least in terms of survival.

    You couldn¡¯t tell from her outward appearance. Her hair looked blonde at the roots but had been dirtied in the last few weeks or months, brown and black in spots where mud or soot had come in contact somewhere along her travels. The cuts were easier to make out now, something about them seemed off to me. Some looked to be from thorn bushes, short and not very deep, but others looked more similar to cuts from barbed wire fencing, which wasn¡¯t uncommon for the area but was reasonably easy to avoid. Unless you were inexperienced or in a hurry, interesting.

    Her hair might¡¯ve once been blonde, but mud and soot had buried that. Her clothes were worse¡ªfilthy, frayed, her shoes barely held together. Not too uncommon nowadays. But beyond this she was rather thin, not on the brink of starvation, but she looked like she hadn¡¯t had any actual food in quite some time.

    But beyond this outward appearance there was something darker that lurked underneath the surface. There was a level of distrust in her eyes that was heavier than most, the way she stared at Freya, the glances she stole at Patrick and I. I could feel something radiating out from her, not hatred, but something that I couldn¡¯t quite place.

    You can tell a lot about a person from their eyes, at least that¡¯s what I¡¯ve learned. Discerning what you¡¯re actually learning about them though is another story entirely. It¡¯s one thing to know what to look for, it¡¯s another to be able to parse what you see into emotion.

    Something in her eyes was so alluring, something so secretive. What was she hiding? The more I stared at her the less I believed the facade she had put on. There was something different about her. But what was it?

    ¡°Unlucky bitch that one, bad hand today,¡± Patrick said, drawing me out of my trance.

    I shifted my focus, the scavenging team had arrived armed with large duffel bags, four of them in total. Being one of our scavs wasn¡¯t a luxurious life, but it wasn¡¯t the most looked down on either. They would occasionally scoop trinkets for themselves and hide them away instead of funneling them back to The Castle for redistribution. I was aware of this happening, but I didn¡¯t want to be the one stripping dead bodies all the time.

    The scouts throughout the town that picked through houses would do the same, but the previously living always had finer items to be taken than abandoned houses could provide.

    But behind the group of scavs there stalked a woman with striking blonde hair, a sharp jutting jaw and eyes that were so blue it was like someone had replaced them with the darkest ice you could find. Antandra.

    ¡°A bad hand indeed,¡± I replied.

    Antandra was arguably the harshest of the adjudicators, technically speaking she was also the first adjudicator before it was even a recognized role. I¡¯d taken a liking to her a few months into our holdup in The Castle, back before it was called The Castle. I¡¯m not sure why she followed me so closely, but she managed to worm her way into the rankings and eventually ended up pretty high.

    I would like to say I was wary of her, but it was hard to be. There was something about her that I just couldn¡¯t get rid of. She was scary for sure, an undeniably harsh woman, but she was just in a way. She seemed incorruptible in her morals, holding the truth at the highest of respects.

    That was what drew me to her, what made me keep her around and look to her for advice so often in those early months. She had a way of seeing things purely logically, using no emotional input in her judgement. Of course I had the presence of mind to realize this wasn¡¯t the best way to make decisions so I took input from others and reflected on my own ideas. However, her logic was always sound, and she always stayed true to her word and morals.

    The more time I spent around her the more I realized she was most likely on the spectrum somewhere, but that made her even more incorruptible.

    Perhaps that was what made her so harsh, so brutally honest in her dissections. She could find the flaws in people, and their insecurities, she used these to make guesses at their past and their own self doubt. She used this to find the truth about them, their intentions, their motivators, what drove them to do what they did.

    I had no doubt in my mind that whatever this woman was hiding Antandra would reveal it. That was her job after all.

    I glanced at Patrick, he was avoiding looking at Antandra. He wasn¡¯t too fond of her, due to her social abilities or rather lack thereof. One night when we were celebrating the victory of securing the entirety of the town he was too close to her. She was a naturally attractive woman, and Patrick was getting a little tipsy. Tried his hand at flirting, which funnily enough she was able to pick up on but she did not take kindly to it.

    She spent an hour talking with him, and he was none the wiser. Until at the end of the night when she laid out all his insecurities and mental self doubt right in front of him, and the way she did it was so matter-of-fact that he didn¡¯t know how to handle it. She wasn¡¯t pitying him, or even being harsh, just stating the facts. This combined with his drunken state led to him crying his eyes out for a solid twenty minutes.

    He hated her for a while after that, something that I finally coached him out of. But he still avoided her, preferring to never speak with her unless it was imperative to helping the group as a whole.

    That¡¯s just fine though, not everyone has to get along or act all buddy-buddy, so long as they¡¯re unified under a leader. That¡¯s where I come into play, not that I¡¯m the best leader, but I can manage these people well enough.

    ¡°She still makes me nervous whenever she¡¯s around,¡± Patrick half whispered to me.

    ¡°I¡¯m well aware.¡±

    Antandra stood before the girl, looking down at her. She was sat on a stump off the side of the road, her hands bound with handcuffs behind her back. She glared up at Antandra, her forest green eyes clashing with those of ice that stared back at her. It was odd seeing the comparison, her eyes were alight almost as if they were inviting a challenge, whereas Antandras were calculating, without a single hint of emotion.

    This contrast continued, Antandra was a woman that held herself to a high standard; as such her clothes were in pristine condition, and her hair was tied back in a tight bun with not a single strand loose. Whereas the girl looked closer to feral than she was to the refinement of Antandra.

    ¡°Your name?¡± Antandra asked.

    The girl remained silent. I could see the gears whirring in Antrandras'' mind as she processed the silence before she spoke again.

    ¡°My name is Antandra, and yours?¡± she asked, squatting down so her and the girl were on the same level.

    I watched both of them carefully. Studying how they shifted their weight or glanced to the side. Antandra was lowering herself to the other woman¡¯s level, so she would think of them as equals as opposed to opposing sides. She¡¯d tried being assertive, and upon realizing that it wouldn¡¯t work on this woman she shifted tactics.

    I could see the blonde woman shift her weight, left and right, glancing quickly to either side. Looking for escape? Weighing her options? Either way, Antandra didn¡¯t seem too fond of the gestures.

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    ¡°We do not wish to harm you here, but I need to know who you are.¡±

    This brought a reaction from the girl.

    ¡°Bullshit,¡± she snarled.

    I can¡¯t blame her for her reaction, we shot her group dead in front of her.

    ¡°Did you know those men?¡± Antandra asked, it sounded stupid, and it was meant to. It was a question meant to draw out an answer.

    ¡°What do you think?¡±

    ¡°Did those men travel with you for long?¡± Asking a question in response to the question that was answered to another question. Too many questions.

    ¡°Long enough to know ¡®em.¡±

    I could see Antandra¡¯s  eyes soften, artificially I believe, but it was hard to say.

    ¡°Did you care for those men?¡±

    Silence again.

    ¡°I am sorry for what happened to them, but it was not my doing. I am only here to speak with you, to help you. They will not let you go if you do not give me the answers I need.¡±

    She was separating herself from our group, making the girl feel like she wasn¡¯t alone. I could see the girl''s face soften for the briefest moment, parsing the words. But the silence returned, for a few moments at least.

    Antandra did not leave the girl''s side, she instead waited for the answer to her question, which one was up to the girl.

    ¡°My name is Rhea,¡± the girl finally said.

    ¡°Rhea, what a nice name.¡± Antandra replied.

    I had to agree with her assessment.

    ¡°Greek,¡± Patrick said from beside me.

    He was filling in the name''s origin, he was all about languages, only knowing a few but he studied a lot of them in the times before the flares. He wanted to be a linguist, he had just started taking college classes to work towards a degree when it all went to shit.

    Not that the origins really mattered, people used whatever names they wanted to name their kids, hell nowadays people changed them whenever they felt like it. We only allow for one change for our people, can¡¯t have people changing their names every other week or it gets hard to manage.

    For instance, Freya wasn¡¯t always named Freya, she was known as Francine before. I think her new name fits her though, really goes with the whole enforcer thing.

    Was Rhea her given name then? Or one she chose for herself. Not that it made a difference, but it was a query nonetheless.

    ¡°So tell me Rhea, what was the purpose of your travels?¡± Antandra asked.

    She specifically didn¡¯t say ¡®why¡¯ as this could come off as combative, for instance ¡®Why were  you traveling in our direction?¡¯ could elicit distrust and be seen as a challenge. Antandra instead asked her what she was seeking, what she was traveling for rather than take an accusatory stance.

    ¡°To flee.¡±

    ¡°To flee? Flee from what?¡±

    I leaned forwards, eager for her answer.

    What could they be fleeing from?

    ¡°Wally.¡±

    Wally was the self appointed leader down the road from us, about 5 miles down the road to be specific. He thought of himself as a king, supposedly, I¡¯ve never actually met the guy. But from what I¡¯ve heard from travelers and reports, he¡¯s practically insane. How he¡¯s managed to stay in power down there is a question I ask every time his name is brought up.

    His name, Wally, is something he gave himself. Named after the Walmart that he took over to control the area. We had early plans to siege the Walmart for everything, but after some early scouting we decided against it. The hold Wally had, combined with the turmoil we were still facing in Wellington meant that we didn¡¯t have the resources to spare for the siege. That plan had been cast aside, seeing as we had enough to be self-sufficient for at least the next few years.

    ¡°Why were you fleeing Wally?¡±

    The girl''s lips twitched at this, turning up into almost a snarl. She glared at Antandra, but I think she was finally starting to understand that Antandra was simply asking questions, not challenging her answers.

    She looked down at the ground, speaking almost to herself, barely audible for Patrick and I.

    ¡°He wanted me, I didn¡¯t want him. I found some people who were looking for adventure and took them with me for protection.¡±

    She was giving more than she was being asked now, Antandra was slowly opening her up.

    ¡°Wanted you for?¡±

    ¡°To be his ¡®queen¡¯,¡± she spat.

    And we were harboring her. I could feel my heart drop. This isn''t something we wanted right now.

    ¡°Well shit,¡± Patrick said, dropping his head.

    We don¡¯t have the manpower to fend off Wally if he wants her that badly. What¡¯s the going rate for morals nowadays? Am I willing to sell mine to spare our settlement here?

    ¡°In theory we could toss her back to him, spare us from him coming out here,¡± Patrick said, mimicking my own inner thoughts.

    ¡°Could, yes,¡± I eyed him confusingly.

    ¡°Hell, we could let her keep going, act like she was never here. No one has to know. When he comes asking, just say we haven¡¯t seen her.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s going to get out, people will know, word will spread.¡±

    ¡°Not if we tell them to not spread it.¡±

    I looked up at him, ¡°Especially if we tell them not to.¡±

    Word of the estranged blonde woman wouldn¡¯t be spread in a form of malice, but rather as idle gossip. The worst kind of gossip, because you never knew what was safe to say around people.

    More than likely the scavenging crew had already messaged it to someone back at The Castle, either the armoury hand or someone in dispatch. Either way the word would get out.

    ¡°Why does he want you specifically?¡± Antandra asked Rhea.

    ¡°Hell if I know, but I¡¯ve put up with too much shit to just let that happen. I¡¯ll keep moving, he doesn¡¯t have to know I was here. I can travel on my own.¡±

    Patrick perked up at this.

    ¡°Word will spread,¡±I said, assuring him that this plan wouldn¡¯t work.

    He sunk back down in response, knowing in his mind that I was right.

    ¡°I cannot say if that will be permissible or not,¡± Antandra said, glancing quickly in my direction.

    I gave her a slight shake of my head.

    The girl didn¡¯t see any of it, she was still looking down at the ground.

    ¡°But if it is not we have other options,¡± Antandra continued, ¡°We are accepting new members here in Sol Sanctum. It is not a bad place to live, order and peace is upheld, everyone is valued for what they can do to help.¡±

    Rhea bit her lip, ¡°It isn¡¯t far enough, he¡¯ll find me. I know he¡¯ll be after me.¡±

    ¡°We can protect you, I assure you, Antandra said.¡± A false promise.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, I can¡¯t let you risk that. It isn¡¯t right, he¡¯s after me,¡± Rhea said, I could hear the tears forming.

    ¡°It will be alright, look at me Rhea,¡± she did as asked, her tears glimmering in the setting sunlight, ¡°We will protect you. Lord Sol will not let you be harmed here.¡±

    Dammit Antandra.

    ¡°Really?¡± Rhea asked, letting her girlish nature shine through the front she¡¯d been putting on.

    ¡°Really,¡± Antandra assured her, opening her arms.

    Rhea fell forward, collapsing onto Antandra as silent tears streamed down her face. I gestured to Freya, who in turn stepped forward and undid the handcuffs that had been binding Rhea.

    She wrapped her arms around Antandra, who met my eyes expectantly. I shivered involuntarily.

    Maybe the adjudicators scared me too. How the hell was this the same woman who¡¯d reduced Patrick to tears, as she was now comforting a lost consort like she was a noble in a fantasy story.

    I just shrugged back at her, she seemed to accept this answer.

    I looked down the road, towards Wally¡¯s domain. What the hell were we going to do about this?

    ¡°Let¡¯s see what the council has to say,¡± I said aloud.

    I was holding my composure, for now. But the weight of decisions like these never really left you ¡ª they just hid in the quiet moments.

 Chapter 3 - The Girl from the North

    The tension in the room was palpable. I was used to this sort of environment, even if it wasn¡¯t always productive. The council members bickered with one another about what to do with Rhea. As I expected, which was the reason I let the decision reach this table at all.

    I knew in my heart what I wanted to do, take her in and shield her from Wally. But in my mind I knew which decision would be better for the Sanctum, hand her over and spare the conflict.

    Patrick was mostly silent on the issue, but the others made up for his abstaining.

    Ivan jabbed a finger at Nico, accusing him of protecting her to soothe his own guilt. Nico, slamming his fist on the table, rebuffed this accusation saying that Ivan was only interested in preserving himself and shouldn¡¯t even be on the council.

    Both of which were unfair accusations.

    Ivan was my best friend back in the times before the flare, back when I knew him as Evan, and now he sat on the council as our Quartermaster. Ivan managed the majority of our inventory, guns and weapons as well as any sort of supplies that weren¡¯t classed under food or medical.

    I didn¡¯t trust anyone to handle the weapons aside from him. Controlling the distribution and management of guns was an imperative role that we needed in order to function.

    Nico was our Drillmaster, in charge of our training regiment. His speciality was hand to hand combat, being a wrestler for the majority of his life. Though he adapted quickly to this new world, and with the aid of Gabriel he picked up fighting with bladed weapons, usually knives, and trained on them as well.

    After some practice, and aid from Ivan and myself, he learned the ins and outs of firearms and soon incorporated firearm training into his regiment too. He and his team trained all of the Enforcers we have, and regularly have classes for anyone that wants to learn self defense.

    His courses are grueling, but he¡¯s an understanding teacher, and I¡¯ve heard nothing but praise from his graduates.

    Both men are cornerstones for the Sanctum, and they know it. But things tend to get a little heated when the discussion floor is open.

    Abigail chimed in a time or two, voicing her distrust of Rhea and how she didn¡¯t believe her story. Adding that she may be a spy sent by Wally to infiltrate our ranks and send intel back to him. Which was a fair argument, though one that didn¡¯t exactly seem realistic to me. There were much better ways to slip a spy into the Sanctum.

    Abigail was our Medicus, well one of two Medicus¡¯, her counterpart sat across from her but was still choosing a side to take. The two Medicus¡¯ weren¡¯t exactly close in a friendly sense, but worked together professionally enough.

    Abigail was in charge of controlling the supply and distribution of medical supplies, she was a Biochem major who was going to work at NASA before all the flares. She was a small woman adopted from Guatemala. She also possessed an autoimmune disorder so was often seen wearing a mask over her face. She was always wary of newcomers, which worked well to balance out the other Medicus.

    Jaspin, who finally gave his opinion, being that we should take a chance on her and see if she could fit into the Sanctum. Jaspin was an RN who had worked in a senior living center prior to the flare. You wouldn¡¯t take him for a nurse necessarily, being one of the largest guys in the group, but he had a kind heart who loved to help people.

    While Abigail handled the medical supplies and medicine, Jaspin worked as a sort of field medic. He was in charge of handling actual injuries and illnesses. These two worked in tandem to keep the Sanctum¡¯s residents as healthy as possible in our given scenario.

    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    So far that was two for keeping Rhea, and two for getting rid of her. A decision like this didn¡¯t require the full council to actually rule with a vote, and as such some of the members were absent.

    But these people were all acquainted before the flare, and even more so after the fact. Which meant just the four of them arguing was enough to sound like there were twice the number in this room.

    They didn¡¯t add much else, mainly just repeating the arguments they had already made. Ivan and Nico were doing most of the arguing, even rising in their seats to shout across at one another. Abigail glared across at Jaspin, upset with him taking the side against her.

    As if on cue, Gabriel, our Arbiter, rose from his seat. A history major, who specialized in public speaking and problem solving. He had a way with words, and a way of smothering others with his presence, if I didn¡¯t know him better I¡¯d hate him no doubt.

    ¡°Gentle, gentlemen, please,¡± Gabriel said, eliciting an eye roll from both Nico and Ivan. Though, both men, the massive and brawny Nico, and the wiry but tight Ivan, sat down.

    ¡°Everyone raises fair points here at this table. This woman, Rhea, does she pose a benefit to the Sanctum? Perchance. Could she also be a risk that we do not need at this moment in time? Just as likely. So what are we to do at this point? What is the way out of this predicament?

    ¡°The simplest answer, often the best, would be to return her to Wally as a peace offering. Or simpler even, send her on her way and when they come looking for her we simply point them in her direction. This would free us of any conspiracy against Wally, but just as equally show we are not interested in dealing with him.¡±

    Ivan and Abigail nodded along to this.

    ¡°Abigail does raise a fair point, what if she is a spy? That could be even more detrimental than the war that might start over her being here. We simply cannot risk another infiltration, we have seen how destructive this sort of thing can be.¡±

    We had lost at least two months worth of canned foods a few months back to a defector, someone who had sided against us in the battle for Millhaven had then flipped to our side. As it turns out they hadn¡¯t really flipped, their goal was to sabotage our food supplies. Thankfully they were found out before any more food could be wasted, but the damage was done.

    ¡°But then I ask, what was the foundation that the Sanctum was built upon?¡± He paused for dramatic effect, and I had to roll my eyes at that one.

    ¡°Was it not to protect its inhabitants, to provide purpose and utility to everyone that wished for it? Was it not to ensure order and maintain peace? Was it not to rehabilitate this world, to free it from corruption and give way to a time of fruitfulness? Were we not assembled to achieve this goal? Were we not sworn to pursue this mission until the end?¡±

    He was getting over zealous now, as he tended to do. Nothing he was saying was incorrect, necessarily, it just sounded a lot better coming out of him than it did when it was broken down to the basics. He conveniently left out the bad we¡¯d done, we weren¡¯t perfect. It was true that we sought purpose, and valued utility, but to reach those heights we had to do some nefarious things, things that didn¡¯t need to see the light of day.

    ¡°I ask you now, is it us who would turn our backs on someone in need? Or is it us who stand for the weak, who give purpose to the needy, who aid all that are in need? Is that not what Sol Sanctum is founded upon? It is! Those who wish to cast this girl aside argue against our very foundation, argue against what makes us us. So now, I turn my time over to the Lord himself,¡± he said with a bow, gesturing to me, ¡°Lord Sol, I ask you now to protect this Rhea, and to keep her safe from the powers that pursue her.¡±

    With a dramatic conclusion he returned to his seat. And all eyes were drawn to me.

    I drummed my fingers along the armrest of my chair, taking in the looks from each of them. While Gabriels words might have sounded nice, they were more immune to his wordsmithing than the masses, and I could tell that they did not sway Abigail or Ivan. Patrick finally met my eyes, asking me nonverbally what my decision would be.

    I let out a sigh, in return they held their breath in anticipation. I had to admit, even I liked the dramatic flair sometimes.

    ¡°She stays.¡±

    The tension bled out of the room, slow and reluctant. Like it or not, they would accept it. I was the leader. The choice was mine.

 Chapter 4 - A Chance Arises

    Shapes flowed and colors swirled from behind my closed eyelids. Slowly, the shapes began to dissipate and the color began to dull. My mind emptied as the nothingness took over. My breathing worked in tandem with the sound of candle wicks crackling in the silence. These sounds soon gave way to a dull ring as my mind cut out the noise. Cool air settled onto my skin, adding to my sense of nothingness.

    I sat cross legged in the office that once belonged to the store owner. It was now considered my chambers, though it felt like I was hardly ever here.

    It was typically only used for sleep, or for when I needed a break like today. Meditating helped me stay sane, helped me breathe when times were stressful. I¡¯d learned long ago that if I kept bottling everything up it would all come tumbling down. Usually in an outburst or more likely a breakdown.

    It¡¯d been a while since either had happened, and I wanted to avoid another.

    Hours ticked passed as I sat silently in solitude. Sometimes this was more preferable than the days I was out auditing and managing.

    But alas, they were few and far between.

    ¡°M¡¯lord,¡± a knock came at the open door.

    I opened my eyes, welcoming the sight of my regent. A smile spread across my face. She stood at the door, black hair pulled back in a ponytail, clothes soaked through with sweat.

    ¡°Kai, you¡¯ve returned.¡±

    ¡°Indeed.¡±

    ¡°And your reports?¡±

    ¡°Ready for your review, m¡¯lord,¡± she said with a bow.

    I pushed myself to my feet, crossing the room to meet her.

    Kai was my regent, a position that she wasn¡¯t necessarily privy to at first but one she¡¯s grown into quite well. In all honesty regent probably isn¡¯t the exact title she should have, but it¡¯s one that I needed to fill.

    She was my right hand, and due to her title, de-facto leader in my absence. That was the part that she didn¡¯t like, that she would be thrust into that role if I wasn¡¯t here. But I had faith in her.

    The role that she usually fits into is more akin to a bodyguard, but more close to a scout. It¡¯s sort of complicated. She usually stays close to me, providing another pair of eyes and ears. Most people consider her my bodyguard, but she isn¡¯t really, but rather my observer. She helps me keep tabs on people and monitor situations.

    She also slips out every now and then when I need something looked into. As such was the  case this time around. There was a small homely gun store about 6 miles south of town. I had sent Kai out to take a look, after the ashes from the battle of Millhaven had settled, cleanup had wrapped up, and we were fully into a developmental phase. It was time to broaden our horizons, something that I had planned to do without interfering with Wally, but that was out of the question now.

    She stood, holding her written reports, waiting for me to read it over.

    ¡°Thank you Kai, head to the washroom and I¡¯ll take a look at this,¡± I said, taking the pages from her.

    ¡°But sir-¡±, she countered.

    ¡°Debrief will happen after you¡¯ve washed up, get to it,¡± I said, turning on a heel.

    ¡°Of course,¡± she said, bowing out and heading back downstairs.

    She was an interesting one. No one really knows where she came from, and she hasn¡¯t shared that information with anybody. Some of the adjudicators tried to badger her for answers at one point, but after I put a stop to it they gave up on that front.

    I think she found her way here from Brimley College, from a town that was about 8 miles north of Millhaven. How she managed to get here, or a better question why she came here, is still a mystery. I¡¯ve thought about asking her, but I think that¡¯s part of why she follows me in such a dedicated manner, because I don¡¯t question her. I accepted her for what she could do, and gave her that purpose.

    I think it helps having that mutual respect. She repays my gesture in turn, she¡¯s the one who walked in on me having a breakdown last time. After a firefight where we took heavy losses, against the rising during the battle for Millhaven. I was a wreck, I didn¡¯t know what to do, everything felt like it was falling apart. She was absent when I gave the order to leave me alone in my quarters, or else she would have listened I have no doubt.

    But she came up, finding me curled into a ball on the floor bawling my eyes out. Even so she didn¡¯t say a word, sitting on the floor next to me, her hand on my shoulder. We didn¡¯t speak, but her presence helped me calm down, helped me find my grounding. Once I was finally put together again I went back downstairs, free of any sign of the tears and she was right behind me.

    She¡¯s never once mentioned it to anyone, in fact between the two of us we¡¯d never even talked about what happened.

    I respect that part of her, and as such I¡¯ll repay that in the form of not questioning her of her origins.

    The pages settled on the aged wooden desk. I rolled out the worn desk chair, its cushion still surprisingly plush¡ªa rare luxury these days.¡±

    I settled in, reading over the lines of meticulous handwriting. All of what we did was handwritten now, after the flares fried the majority of electronics what little we had working was used for special occasions. It was a miracle the radios still worked, or we would really be in the dark ages. It was a stroke of luck, and engineering, that we were still able to power the radios.

    A solar generator that had been contained in a metal box had survived the flare, and after that through some questionable wiring and finagling we were able to connect it to a battery charger where we cycled rechargeable batteries to power the radios.

    There was a lot of fluff, which was usual for Kai¡¯s reports. She described the majority of what she did. That¡¯s also part of why I think she originated from Brimley College, her writing was always done in a manner that just seemed scholarly. Almost like an English major¡¯s writing. Not that it mattered either way.

    She talked about the journey, at one point the chain on her bike came loose and she had to stop to get it back on the track. She spotted some deer running through some of the now barren fields just outside of town. A couple raccoons that were scrounging around a pile of trash on the side of the road.

    She detailed the camp she set up for the night. Simple, a small Dakota fire hole to keep a low profile. She used a simple hammock to sleep in, tied between two trees.  She hadn''t been out very far but I¡¯d sent her just before dusk the day prior so that her absence wouldn¡¯t be noticed.

    She camped just outside the remnants of Findley State Park, about a mile from the store she was traveling to. The night was uneventful, and she continued on once the sun started to rise. A brief tangent about the color of the sky, being golden which reminded her of times before when she¡¯d watch the sunrise with her parents back home.

    Wherever that home may be. I had a guess of Japan, but she had no sign of an accent so maybe she had grown up in the states. Brimley College was known for foreign transfers, so Japan was just one of the ideas I had in mind.

    She had left her bike in the brush about half a mile from the store, in case there was someone waiting there it was easier to approach on foot so as to avoid detection. As it turned out though there was no need, while there were empty food containers and remnants of months old fire pits whoever had previously been there had now fled the area.

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    Evidence of humans having stayed there did not bode well, it meant that the supplies we were in search of were probably looted already.

    Kai detailed how she picked the lock on the door, an interesting turn of events. If it was locked then that meant someone might be coming back for whatever was inside.

    The inside of the building was, as expected, basically picked clean. The array of knives that came in every shape and size, for every various purpose were gone. The firearms that would hang from pegs on the walls had vanished, the handguns that lay side by side in the glass cases were missing. If it had a blade or a trigger, or was made to help you survive in the wilderness, it was gone. As I expected but had hoped against.

    Yet the real purpose of the expedition had proved to remain. On one of the walls sat tubs upon tubs, boxes upon boxes, of the very lifeblood of any apocalyptic world. Tubs full of powders, boxes full of casings and shells. The materials we needed to make our own bullets, and there was a lot of it.

    I pumped my fist in the air at the revelation, beaming quietly to myself. We needed those supplies, and we needed them now, before they were taken by someone else.

    We had the equipment to load rounds, as Millhaven was a relatively conservative area there were plenty of folks that reloaded their own rounds, we had equipment for all of the commonly used rounds and even a few specialty sizes. But we had run out of the powder months ago. Occasionally a scout would find some in a house, but it wouldn¡¯t net us many rounds. This would buy us quite a bit, and we were going to need them if Wally was rearing up for a fight.

    I grabbed the radio from my hip, switching to the Scout teams channel.

    ¡°This is Crown, Eagle, private line,¡± I spoke, the radio beeping with the press and release.

    I switched  channels, waiting for Patricks callback.

    ¡°Go for Eagle,¡± he said.

    ¡°I need you to get together a scout team, no more than 10, rucksacks and duffel bags. Chet and Frans, the little outdoors shop just south of town, I¡¯ve got intel that they have casing and gunpowder still there. We need those materials. Once morning strikes you¡¯re on the road, maybe need a trailer for the casings, be quick but efficient. Anything else you can fit; tools, rifle bodies, cleaning kits, bring it back with you.¡±

    ¡°Copy, Eagle out,¡± the radio crackled back.

    Reading further down the report revealed that there were some rifle uppers and lowers still remaining. On their own they weren¡¯t worth much, but we could use them to replace some damaged ones still in use.

    The rest of the report consisted of Kai¡¯s trip back to The Castle, again nothing of real importance happened but I made sure to read every line. A trick I learned was to reference those later lines, the ones that didn¡¯t have any real purpose. Kai liked that I read her writings, she appreciated when I mentioned things that she¡¯d written, it made her feel heard. At least that was my guess.

    It wasn¡¯t just for her though, I used to be an avid reader, and Kai¡¯s reports were always so much more enjoyable than the others. It was also useful to know the ins and outs of how people thought, and writings were a perfect window into that.

    I stood from the desk, moving to the window of one way glass that looked out into the store. I didn¡¯t check it often, I didn¡¯t like watching people that much. But I looked out into the half of the store that was visible from my vantage point.

    People milled about, settling into cots that were sectioned off by sheets. The setting wasn¡¯t ideal, but it was safe. There were plans to expand to some of the nearby houses, the dealership next down had a plethora of housing in it as a matter of fact. There were campers positioned in the parking lot that acted as team houses for higher ranking members of the Sanctum. Scout teams, Enforcers, and scavenging teams filled the majority of them. Most of the people I looked out over were lower than that; gardeners, organizers, sorters, laborers. Each had value¡ªand I did my best to make sure they knew it.

    The old off campus office building that used to belong to one of the local community colleges had been transformed into an apartment style building for families to stay in. We¡¯d just started moving families over there about a month back, we had a couple enforcers stationed there to act as guards to ensure no one got too rowdy during the transition.

    ¡°M¡¯lord,¡± Kai said from the door.

    I turned to greet her, a welcoming smile on my face. Her hair was wet, and loose falling onto her shoulders. Her clothes were fresh, the slightly acidic scent of the ashwood lye that was used as a soap nowadays.

    ¡°Yes, Kai. That was fast,¡± I commented.

    ¡°Indeed,¡± she said with a bow.

    I turned back to the window, and she joined me.

    ¡°Thank you for everything you do for me. I¡¯ve dispatched Patrick and some scavenge teams to retrieve the supplies detailed in your report. I must thank you for your work these last couple days. Without you we wouldn¡¯t know of these life saving supplies.¡±

    ¡°Of course, it is my duty as your regent.¡±

    I studied her out of the corner of my eye, she was one of the most confusing individuals I¡¯d brought into the Sanctum. Why was she so keen on following me? Why was she so devoted? And why was she always so formal?

    I had to admit, the whole lord thing was kind of odd when it began, an idea that originated from Gabriel as a form of instilling a hierarchy. It was really just a formal title, though the masses were slowly starting to adapt and calling me as such. Kai however didn¡¯t hesitate and dove headfirst into the whole idea. I don¡¯t think there¡¯s been a single time where she hasn¡¯t addressed me as her lord since it all started.

    ¡°I don¡¯t have much for your debrief today, have you heard of the new developments from the day?¡± I asked, knowing that she most likely had.

    She didn¡¯t ask others about happenings, but she listened. I had an inkling that she had overheard the story of what transpired with Rhea, and the conflict that would surely rise with Wally.

    ¡°I have, yes.¡±

    ¡°Any thoughts?¡± I asked, curious to know what she thought about the whole thing. Her input was important to me, she always looked at things very logically.

    She glanced at me, thinking about what to say.

    ¡°Speak freely Kai.¡±

    Her posture shifted ever so slightly, and her eyes softened just a tad, ¡°Very well. I fear this may have been a mistake. I do not think we are prepared for an assault from Wally. Though I understand the moral dilemma and believe we are morally in the right, I do not think it best to continue to harbor this Rhea.¡±

    I nodded along, knowing she was right. I remained silent for just a moment before letting out a sigh.

    ¡°My apologies, I did not mean-¡± she started.

    I held my hand up to quiet her.

    ¡°None taken, I know you¡¯re right. Part of me wonders why I made the choice I did. Am I trying to make up for the wrong choices I¡¯ve made? Or do I really want to protect this woman from Wally? Truthfully, I¡¯m not even sure I know the answer.¡±

    There was something inside me that wouldn¡¯t go away, this feeling that there was something pushing me in this direction, something that told me this was the way forward. But how? There wasn¡¯t an easy way out of this, there wasn¡¯t an efficient way through. So what then was this feeling?

    The idea of gut feelings was something that I¡¯m familiar with, though I know not to trust them blindly. So why was I listening this time? What was different now?

    ¡°I have no doubt you¡¯ve made the right choice, m¡¯lord. You seem to make them quite frequently.¡±

    ¡°Are you talking me up right now Kai?¡± I asked with a smile.

    She blushed slightly, ¡°I did not mean it like that. It is just that you seem to make good choices the majority of the time. You are the reason we have survived as long as we have,¡± her words tumbled out, the pace of her speech increasing.

    She was easy to fluster, if you knew her well enough.

    I laughed a little at her, which only made her blush deepen.

    ¡°I¡¯m kidding Kai, I¡¯m kidding,¡± I assured, ¡°I thank you for your compliments, truly. If only you knew of all the wrong choices I¡¯ve made in life.¡±

    I watched as candles down throughout the masses were extinguished, plunging the sheeted off rooms into darkness save for the faint glow on the floor. People were starting to turn in for the night. We stood silently, watching as one by one everyone turned over to sleep.

    ¡°I think it¡¯s time we caught some sleep Kai, what do you say?¡±

    ¡°Indeed, m¡¯lord. I will see you in the morning.¡±

    ¡°Sleep well, regent,¡± I said as she crossed the hall.

    Her quarters were in one of the other two offices on the small top floor. Her room was what used to be the human resources managers office for the store we operated out of. The third office, the accountant''s office, was used for my personal storage.

    I extinguished the couple candles that lit my slowly darkening room. I made my way to my cot, retiring for the night. Readying myself for the hellstorm that I could feel awaiting me in the morning.

 Chapter 5 - Ghosts Beneath the Sun

    ¡°His lordship has not yet risen, you will wait accordingly,¡± Kai¡¯s voice carried up the stairs.

    In truth I¡¯d been up for a couple hours, my leg bounced up and down nervously.

    ¡°Kai, I swear to the gods I will rip you apart to get up there, let me through!¡± Freya''s shouts carried up the stairs.

    The full body shaking had stopped quickly this time, only lasting about a  minute. Consigning people to death would do that to you.

    I finally rose from the desk, donning the same clothes as yesterday. My hair was brushed back, looking presentable enough. It was important to present a level of tidiness as  the lord of The Sanctum.

    ¡°It¡¯s alright Kai, let her up,¡± I called.

    ¡°Very well, his lordship-¡± Kai began before she was cut off, Freya no doubt pushing past her to climb the stairs.

    I looked up when she entered, her blonde hair was disheveled, she must¡¯ve been sleeping in late today. Her eyes were red with frustration and recently dried tears. She stomped over to my desk, slamming her fist on the surface.

    ¡°If he comes back with bullet holes in him I¡¯m gonna put just as many through you,¡± she snarled at me, jabbing a finger in my direction.

    ¡°You shall not address his lordship as such, it is-¡± I held my hand up to stop Kai.

    It was important that I kept my composure here.

    ¡°I did not know that this would have happened, or I would have sent them better prepared,¡± I explained.

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t they have a security detail? Protocol states that anyone traveling outside of the Sanctum¡¯s limits, especially for looting purposes, needs to have a security detail. The only way they got sent out there with no extra protection was if they were acting on their own accord, or you sent them.¡±

    Her words were heavy, laced with venom and anger.

    But they were true. I made the choice to send them out, without any Enforcers for protection. The scavenge teams could handle themselves, but they were a scrappy bunch, not trained like the Enforcers.

    My mind flashed back to the crackling of my radio stirring me from my sleep. Patrick¡¯s shouts over the radio, a distress call, they were taking fire outside the gun store. They were pinned down, contemplating retreat. But I wouldn¡¯t let them.

    ¡°Patrick, you hold your position dammit. I¡¯m dispatching Enforcers, coming fast. Keep your head down and don¡¯t die!¡± The words haunted me.

    The pause before his reply, ¡°Copy, holding position.¡±

    I could hear gunshots in the background, shouts and directives from the scavs.

    I sent a group of Enforcers in one of the reinforced diesel trucks we still had. The sun flares killed the majority of modern engines, but diesel engines could still function. If the trucks were old enough and didn¡¯t have any modern electronics we could still use them, but fuel was scarce.

    I wanted to go myself but I knew it wasn¡¯t my place. Instead, I dispatched one of our most seasoned teams. The Blackguard, a particularly savage group, most of which were ex-military. They were one of the most experienced in terms of fighting, especially in the apocalyptic times. They fought under me for the entirety of the struggle for Millhaven.

    The reinforced truck they¡¯d gone out in had a canopy over the bed with reinforced steel and slits for windows. Impervious to most rounds as long as they were far enough away.

    It would¡¯ve been safer to have Patrick pull back, but those resources were too valuable.

    Why didn¡¯t I send anyone with him? Why did I let them go alone? Of course it was a setup, they must have let Kai snoop around and waited for the rest of the group to come by. But who could set something like this up? It couldn¡¯t be Wally, he was to the north and this was happening in the south.

    But moreover, how did Kai not notice anything out of the ordinary? She was one of the keenest amongst us. A small glimpse of distrust thrust itself forward, but I quickly dismissed the notion. Kai wouldn¡¯t do that, right? No, she wouldn¡¯t.

    So what the hell really went down?

    Freya stared me down, huffing and puffing, waiting for me to speak.

    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± I said calmly, pushing myself to my feet, ¡°I made a bad call, off of intel that was evidently insufficient.¡±

    I stole a glance at Kai, gauging her reaction. She lowered her head, taking the jab personally. This was a good sign, clearing her of some suspicion.

    ¡°The important thing is that ultimately no one died,¡± I explained, which I was relieved to find out, ¡°I take responsibility for the choice, and it¡¯s no one¡¯s fault but my own. I accept this, and I apologize for the stress this decision has caused.¡±

    ¡°Stress?! Stress?! That¡¯s what you¡¯re worried about, that the scouts are all in a panic because they think their leader died out there for some fucking gunpowder?!¡±

    I raised my eyebrows slightly at this, which she picked up on.

    ¡°Yea,¡± she rolled her eyes, ¡°He told me what they were going after last night.¡±

    ¡°And why didn¡¯t you go with him then?¡± I questioned, prodding.

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    ¡°Because you told him to take a group of fucking scavs, not scouts, not Enforcers. So he followed your orders, and look where that got him!¡±

    I sighed, meeting her eyes.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t mean for this to happen Freya, you know that. He¡¯s like a brother to me, I would never wish for something like this to happen.¡±

    She faltered for just a moment, knowing that my words were true and honest.

    ¡°Fuck you,¡± she spat, ¡°Sorry won¡¯t bring him back the next time, when he doesn¡¯t get lucky.¡±

    She spun and stormed out of the room and down the stairs, disappearing from my earshot.

    I collapsed into my chair, the shaking returned. I hated confrontation, as odd as it sounds, I shake and my face gets red, no matter how many times it happens. But what choice do I have as the leader of The Sanctum?

    I drew in shaky breaths. Steadying myself, my hands steepled to support my head. A single silent tear escaped, which was quickly brushed away.

    I looked up at Kai, she met my eyes for a moment before hanging her head once more.

    ¡°It isn¡¯t your fault Kai,¡± I assured her, ¡°It was a setup.¡±

    ¡°But I should have noticed, ¡° she protested, ¡°There should have been signs. The coals must have been fresher than I thought, someone must have been watching me and I failed to notice. It is my fault, I bear that burden.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll grant you part of that statement, someone must have been watching you. The only question is who.¡±

    She stood still, waiting¡ªfor judgment, maybe. Or forgiveness.

    I sat in thought, turning over the conversation with Freya, thinking about the implications of the ambush. I tried and tried to piece it together, but something was missing. I had no knowledge of a group operating to the south, aside from traveling nomadic groups but no one concrete. That I knew of at least.

    I gave up on the puzzle, shunting it to the back of my mind for later analysis. I needed to venture out there sometime, have a look around. Or maybe send someone, but maybe that was even more dangerous.

    ¡°Come on, let¡¯s go and welcome them back,¡± I said, rising.

    I could hear the dull rumble of the diesel engine just outside.

    As we made our way outside I took in the eyes that followed me through the store, mostly scouts, anger and betrayal. They would get over it, eventually.

    I found the scavengers and Patrick untying their bikes, they¡¯d looped them to the back of the truck and let The Blackguard pull them home. Ash stood by, watching them with disinterest.

    ¡°Ash,¡± I said, approaching the captain of The Blackguard. He was a grizzled veteran, he served over in Iraq before the flare. He was a retired Marine, retiring at the rank of sergeant. I was thankful to have him on our side.

    ¡°Sol,¡± he returned, clasping each other''s forearms we embraced briefly.

    ¡°Thank you for your work today,¡± I commended him before turning to Kai, ¡°Kai, get a verbal debrief from Ash, we¡¯ll discuss it later.¡±

    Ash didn¡¯t like to write, so I didn¡¯t make him. Kai would transcribe it if it was necessary.

    I turned to greet Patrick, he looked shaken but more or less fine.

    ¡°Glad you made it back,¡± I said, embracing him the same way I did Ash.

    ¡°Glad to be back. Had to say, I doubted you for a moment there. Wasn¡¯t sure we¡¯d survive that one.¡±

    He wasn¡¯t a stranger to gunfights, he¡¯d been in plenty. But there¡¯s always something extra stressful when it comes out of nowhere like that.

    I held his arm for just a moment longer, looking into his eyes. I could tell he didn¡¯t blame me as Freya and the rest of the scouts did, but I still needed to amend my mistakes.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry for putting you in that situation, I had no idea that would happen.¡±

    ¡°I know you didn¡¯t, it¡¯s fine man. We all got back. You shoulda seen ¡®em turn tail once The Blackguard showed up, scattered into the woods like rats. Think that we just had the wrong place at the wrong time. We got all the goods too,¡± he said, unzipping the duffel bag that hung over his shoulder. Sure enough, tubs of gunpowder filled it. I looked around, not seeing boxes of casings on the empty wagons.

    ¡°Casings a wash?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Back of the truck, figured it¡¯d be easier that way.¡±

    ¡°Aye, goodman,¡± I smiled.

    I hid the concerns I had with the group that attacked them, they could chalk it up to a random attack, but that felt wrong. This felt more like a setup.

    I gripped him on the shoulder, ¡°Get this stuff to Ivan, he¡¯ll take it from here, and get yourself cleaned up. Get a report written up or find Kai and she¡¯ll make one for you. Thanks again for your work, I¡¯m going to check with Ash about this.

    ¡°You got it,¡± he said with a mock salute, I rolled my eyes at him.

    ¡°I¡¯ll find you later,¡± I assured him, moving back towards Ash and Kai.

    Ash spoke with Kai, I could see her absorbing the words. No doubt piecing the story together so she could remember it later.

    ¡°Ash,¡± I interrupted, ¡°I got a couple quick questions.¡±

    He turned to me, ¡°Sure thing, what¡¯s up?¡±

    I pulled him away from the rest of them, Kai quietly slipped closer and closer, listening in. I didn¡¯t mind.

    ¡°You think this was a setup?¡±

    He thought for a moment, it was performative, I knew he already had an answer, ¡°Seems that way, yes. You think the same?¡±

    I nodded in agreement, ¡°I do, but they fled when you guys showed up?¡±

    ¡°They did, yea, my guys were disappointed, but it was probably for the better. By the sounds of the firefight they had some interesting firepower. Some of the bullet timings sounded almost full auto, maybe ex-military gear. They had some decent coordination too, and might be using radios. They all fled at the same time, no hesitation.¡±

    I contemplated this information, ¡°I see, thanks Ash. Sorry for interrupting.¡±

    I bowed out of the conversation, leaving Kai to it.

    Just some extra pieces to the puzzle that I was working over in my mind.

    That confirmed it, there was definitely something going on here. But what?

    Whatever it is, I hope it doesn¡¯t escalate, we already are going to have an issue with Wally, the last thing we need is another group encroaching on our territory. Fighting a war on two fronts wasn¡¯t something we could manage right now.

    What advantage could I swing from these encounters? How could I come out ahead? What do we need? We need information, intel. We were blank on the southern group, I¡¯ll set up extra scouts out there, keep an eye in that direction. What about the north though, scouts would give us a heads up but we needed something more than that.

    My eyes lit up. We had just that, we just needed to open it up. I thought about my approach, how best to coax Rhea into opening up. She was the answer, she had the intel we needed, we just needed to get it out of her.

 Chapter 6 - Shaky Greetings

    The wind was coming in from the east, pushing my hair behind me. The day was warm, the sun high in the sky. The spring days were welcomed after facing a particularly grueling last winter, one that lasted longer than I¡¯d hoped it would. Winter was a drag before the flares, but now it was a test of survival. The sunny days of spring were a respite from the harshness of the colder months, one that was becoming harder and harder to take for granted.

    The rungs of the rusty ladder off to my right rang as two bodies climbed to the top of it. I kept my eyes forward, looking down behind The Castle into the field, past our massive storehouse.

    Two pairs of footsteps moved to join me, the pair in the lead more tentative than those trailing behind. I turned  to greet the two joining me up here.

    Rhea eyed me wearily as I took in her new look. She looked much better than she did when we first took her in. Five days after her adoption into The Sanctum, she looked almost healthy. New clothes, color in her face, and just enough weight returning to soften her frame. She was beginning to fill in, just barely, but she actually looked healthy. A stark contrast to the state she came to us in.

    Her hair was clean, free of the debris and dirt that filled it before, and it had been trimmed down, falling to the base of her neck. I hadn¡¯t noticed it before because of the debris, but her hair was a really pale blonde that was comparable to sunlight catching through a waterfall.

    The cuts that once covered her arms had begun to fade, and she seemed a lot more comfortable here now, despite her wariness. I could see it in her posture.

    She was on increased rations to fight the starvation, and had been checked over by one of the nurses from the Medicus team. By some miracle she was free of any real infection, I silently thanked whoever was up there. We didn¡¯t have much to spare in the case of antibiotics, even our topical ones were running low. The majority of what we did have was past expiration, but functioned enough to provide some benefit.

    ¡°M¡¯lord,¡± Kai said, bowing as she stopped some feet away.

    I caught a twinge of what might have been disgust on Rhea¡¯s face. I winced at the reaction, just barely.

    That was not the sort of impression I wanted to give Rhea, considering I was trying to curry favor with the new arrival. Especially considering the fact that I was trying to get her to open up to me.

    I brushed off her reaction, pretending not to notice.

    ¡°Kai, thank you. You are dismissed,¡± I said kindly.

    She nodded in response, turning to disappear down the ladder. I had no doubt she would be waiting for us at the bottom, not that it was necessary but she had insisted when we were orchestrating this meeting.

    ¡°Rhea,¡± I said, calculating the best greeting in my head, a quick moment as I watched her face, seeing her reaction I took a gamble extending my hand, ¡°I am Lord Sol, or rather just Sol, and I am the one behind our efforts here at Sol Sanctum.¡±

    She took my hand, cautiously, ¡°Rhea.¡±

    A simple reply, but one that I accepted graciously.

    I could see her eyeing the fields below us, the expanding agricultural area that sprawled further and further back, towards an abandoned development of duplexes at the far ends of the field. They were on the schedule for examination and were being readied for people to start moving into them.

    I looked out into the field, making her feel comfortable doing the same, her body turning as she stood next to me. Workers toiled down below, weeding between the varying crops that were springing up.

    Cucumbers that grew at surprising speeds, watermelons that were a particular favorite in The Sanctum, rows of corn that were rising higher by the day, carrots that were becoming larger and larger with each generation, rows of green beans being my personal favorite. There were others, smaller patches of colored peppers, hot peppers, heads of lettuce and cauliflower, cantaloupes, and berry bushes.

    She cast her eyes out over the workers. Off to the side stood the massive storehouse, previously the warehouse for the store that we now inhabited, which was where we stored the majority of our excess foodstuffs. Cans and boxes of pre-flare foods, bottles and jars of longer lasting foods like jellies and jams. It was slowly being filled by our newly produced food, jerkies and jarred vegetables mostly.

    The whole of the storehouse was managed by Maeve, our hoardwright. Everything in that place was dated, datechecked, accounted for, and organized to her insanely anal standards. Maeve had a severe case of OCD, which made finding people to work under her sort of difficult but not impossible.

    Ivan was actually in control of the storehouse at the very beginning of The Castle¡¯s establishment, but Maeve was  a much better fit for the job.She was particular, but mostly fair. The oddest part about her was her faded-purple dyed hair. She was one of the few who insisted on dyed hair during an apocalypse.

    At first she was hoarding boxed hair dye but the stores eventually ran out. In a stroke of genius I harvested some wild pokeweed, a toxic plant that possessed toxic berries, but were safe enough to dye cloth and apparently bleached hair. She had a small container of bleach that she reused and now had a stash of pokeweed juice that she replenished during the summer. The dye didn¡¯t last longer than a few months before it started to fade, but it was something she insisted on. I made the accommodations, sending special scout teams to gather them for her, as well as forage for other wild growths.

    A new foray that was becoming more and more necessary. The town''s supplies were beginning to run dry, and we needed to start adapting on that front. Scout teams were turning into foraging parties, and the scavenger teams would soon follow if we kept looting at the same rate.

    Rhea glanced at the building, two Enforcers stood at the main entrance, a wide open bay door. She paused for a moment. Then her eyes followed some of the field workers, watching them with interest. She was taking in the whole operation, or at least the part of it that was being revealed. I wanted to show her some of what went on around here, offering explanations when applicable.

    Though I didn¡¯t particularly trust her with everything. There were some things that I knew I was going to withhold, like our water purification system, or our medical stash.

    I wanted to let her see what we were ¡ª what we weren''t. I¡¯m not entirely sure how they operate up north, but the things I¡¯ve heard haven¡¯t been great.

    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    I wondered what she thought of the children working in the fields, none of them were forced of course. Some worked alongside their parents, others just wanted to help out. Those reasons were why there were so few.

    I watched her out of the corner of my eye, trying to gauge a reaction. But it was difficult. Supposedly she was a very empathetic person, from what I¡¯d been told. It was a little immoral, But I had one of Kai¡¯s informants help her along, or perhaps apprentice is a better term.

    Mei, a young Chinese girl that Kai had been taking under her wing in secret. She had hidden it from me for some while, but I¡¯d found out nonetheless when I saw them conversing in secret one day and asked Kai about it.

    She came clean immediately, why she hid it I was still unsure. Mei was a mostly quiet girl, but she was kind, and seemed to take to Kai pretty well. She had been showing Rhea around, telling her about the people here and everyone¡¯s roles. Rhea seemed to take a liking to her too, slowly opening up around her. Which was how I got the bit about her being empathetic, some conversation on morals or something from one of her nights here.

    Ideally I¡¯d like more information to go off of, but there was the initial issue of our time constraint of not knowing Wally¡¯s next move, but there was also the fact that I didn¡¯t like to social engineer too much.

    I could see the words at the tip of her tongue, her curiosity piqued. But it was important that I let her speak first. I was getting better at dealing with people ¡ª not managing them, not maneuvering around them ¡ª just being with them. Manipulating words and telling people what they needed to hear was one thing, but understanding humans; their nature, emotions, feelings, what made them real.

    That part was tricky, especially for someone as introverted as myself. It was difficult to navigate those kinds of things, I could understand emotions, what caused them, why they happened. I wasn¡¯t that socially dull. But navigating around them, handling people who felt extremes, was hard. For instance, if someone were crying that was always a hard one for me, comforting them.

    But I was getting better, I had to. Just as we all had to adapt to this new world, I had to adapt to this role. Slot myself into this position to be better accepted as a leader. That was also something I hoped to prove today, that I was a good leader, or at least one that tried to be good.

    ¡°Why did you bring me here?¡± she asked, finally speaking.

    One of the questions I had prepared for thankfully, I was much better when I was prepared than when I was put on the spot.

    ¡°I wanted to show you what we¡¯re doing here at Sol Sanctum, show you around and answer any questions you might have. If you¡¯re going to be staying here for the foreseeable future, it¡¯d be good to know your way around the place.¡±

    She pondered that answer, I felt the next question coming, ¡°But why you?¡±

    Her question was charged, skepticism and distrust. She was asking why she was getting a sort of special treatment, and her suspicions were correct, if she were someone else I wouldn¡¯t be showing her around the Sanctum. More than likely it would be Kai, or one of the scouts. But I couldn¡¯t tell her that, I needed her to trust me, I had to prove that she could trust me. But I had a line around her question, one that I¡¯d prepped a few hours earlier.

    ¡°Do you remember when you were first coming into town here?¡±

    She turned to face me now, ¡°I do, yes.¡±

    ¡°Are you aware that I was there when you were taken in?¡±

    She was silent for a moment, looking at me more deeply. I felt my chest slowly tighten, really getting a good look at her now. There was something about her, the way her eyes glowed and the way she traced the outline of my face with her emerald-hued eyes.

    She was a very attractive woman, her features were sharp, but she also seemed so soft, her paleish skin that seemed so inviting. My earlier observations were further confirmed, she was indeed more fuller now.  My heart rate picked up, the longer she stared the more tense I became. There was a tension in the air, but it seemed only I was under its effect.

    I kept my breath controlled, but my body was screaming at me. What was wrong with me?

    Finally she broke the silence, easing me out of the pressure.

    ¡°It was you then,¡± she said, as if confirming a suspicion, ¡±I thought you looked familiar, but I was kind of out of it at the time.¡±

    ¡°That did seem to be the case, yes.¡±

    Her eyes narrowed, and her weight shifted just slightly away from me..

    ¡°You¡­ confuse me,¡± she said simply, very blunt.

    I shifted my feet, put off by how upfront she was.

    ¡°I do seem to get that a lot, yes. Perks of being an introvert in a leading role I suppose.¡±

    I revealed this detail about myself tactfully, to make her think I was being more open that I was letting on.

    ¡°What, is it because you feel bad for me? Or you think you shouldn¡¯t have killed those guys? What is it?¡±

    I noted the ¡®those guys¡¯ line, so there wasn¡¯t any real attachment, good to remember. But this was not a question I was hoping to tackle, she really had me off my game here. If this were a conversation in logic I would have no issue, but her forward nature sort of startled me. It didn¡¯t help that I was prepared to talk to someone that apparently was rather quiet and reserved, maybe I got to her just as she was settling in around here, giving her more confidence than she previously had.

    ¡°It is true that I felt bad for you, yes. Though I do not regret giving the order to kill those men, anyone else in our command would have made the same call as I. I¡¯m not quite sure why to be honest, you intrigue me, you and your story. And I felt it was my duty to take you on this tour, being the one in command when our party brought you in.¡±

    I held my breath, hoping that answer would suffice. The wind whistled in the silence as I awaited her answer. That skepticism was still there, but it seemed I¡¯d maybe chipped the distrust, ever so slightly.

    This was a tricky game to play, even trickier when you didn¡¯t know the other player. Usually I dealt with people I¡¯d known for years, hell even months was usually enough time to figure people out, but she was something fresh.

    Her eyes dug daggers into me, but I held my ground. I didn¡¯t like confrontation, but I could handle it well enough. Besides, I had to handle the likes of Freya and Abigail on the daily, this wasn¡¯t too bad compared to their tempers.

    ¡°So where do we start?¡±

    I let go of the breath discreetly, I silently rejoiced. I gestured out to the field, and she turned to look.

    ¡°Well, for starters. From here, you can see the fields where we harvest new crops from spring until autumn. Then off to the right of that, is our storehouse, managed by a woman named Maeve, if you¡¯ve heard of her yet. There¡¯s not much to look at from up here, as the majority of the happenings are in buildings around  the area, but I like to come up here for some fresh air. It¡¯s nice to get away sometimes.¡±

    Not that everyone could get up here, rooftop access was monitored around the clock, aided by the watchtowers that were on either end of the roof, and the padlock that caged in the bottom of the ladder.

    She turned back to me. Judging. Those viridian eyes never seemed to lose their edge. The tightness crept back in ¡ª slow and silent, like vines wrapping a tree that couldn¡¯t move.

    ¡°Alright then, where to next?¡±

    And here I thought I was ready for her.