Sunday, September 12, 2010

           Recently, I began writing a little story in my spare time. I've witten opening scenes over and over and over again but there is not one that I feel is good enough to stick, so I began in the middle.  The general plot is that it is the future, and humans artificially adapted because of the beginning of the "New Ice Age" (Really, an exaggerated cold streak). Many refused to adapt, and began a rebellion, nick-named "The Originals." The, so-called, 'New Breed' tried to wipe them out, in an effort to stop the rebellion. Few remain.
When there was an outbreak of mysterious New Breed murders, the only characteristic that stayed constant was the word "TATE" spray painted on the back of the assailant's jacket.

           Olive Carson, a harmless, peaceful Original is sighted making her way south. She has, unknowingly, picked up the 'Tate' jacket. Sebastien Ark, a New Breed (you'll hear more on his story later), is sent to apprehend Olive. He is told that "Tate" is incredibly dangerous, having picked off 12 New Breed colonies single handedly, but when Sebastien sees Olive, he is sceptical, and decides to trail her.


           In this scene (switching between both Olive and Sebastien's P.O.V.) Seb makes first contact with 'Tate'. She has taken refuge under a rotting bridge, after venturing partially into nearby caves. It begins with a reoccurring nightmare of Olive's.

             ... No amount of fidgeting could push away my discomfort. Curled up tight in my sleeping bag, frozen to my core, in damp jeans and an itchy wool sweater. I listened to my breathing, focused hard, so that it consumed my thoughts. One-two, one-two, one-two, and finally, the darkness fell.
When I opened my eyes again, it was a beautiful autumn evening. The sun through the turning leaves washed my perfect world in gold. The sky was a pale blue, though snow drifted to the ground. The air felt warm. I sank to my knees, and picked a delicate, dried leaf up off of the ground. I ran my hands over it, again and again, feeling every grove and vein. When I looked down again, the leaf was a moth's wing. I tossed it away from me in a panic, and sprung to my feet. The snow turned to ash. My golden world, turned grey. Tiny moths fluttered in every direction.
           And I woke to the crunch of footsteps and blistering cold.
           Panic stricken, I reached out for my hunting rifle, but a pale hand beat me to it. My heart raced, I couldn't stand, so I shuffled backwards, and time paused momentarily as I lifted my eyes to my new found threat. In that split second, everything was clear; I had no rifle, and my coat and shoes were out of reach, so I would not be running far. The caves seemed to be the safest option, though I had no clue what may be waiting inside for me. I stared up into the face of a New Breed, paralyzed from fear. Everything I knew told my that there was no hope for me. In seconds I would be dead. Time returned to normal as I allowed myself to breathe. Neither of us moved a muscle, two statues carved into the riverbank. I counted seconds, one, two, three, and bolted for the caves. The New Breed sprung backwards and cursed.
             "Hey-" He exclaimed, "Wait!" I didn't dare risk glancing back to see whether or not I was being followed. Hesitating slightly at the mouth of the cave, scared out of my wits, I though I heard the New Breed sigh. Then, biting my lip, I stumbled blind into the dark.



             Sebastien rubbed the back of his neck in frustration. If he could just get a moment to speak to Tate, things would be easier, he was sure. But the Original was clever. Sort of. The cave certainly would a good place to hide, had it not been fitted with stairs and ramps and lights. The caves were tourist attractions, a long, long time ago, but Sebastien was fairly sure the lights would still work. He ducked under the bridge and collected Tate's things. There was the coat, with the unmistakable, neatly stenciled words. Her shoulder bag held a few dried herbs, two pairs of socks, an empty water flask, and a small first aid kit with various pills and medications. Sebastien rolled up her sleeping bag and strapped it to the bag. He inspected the rifle. It wasn't the weapon of a deadly assassin, by any means. It was a regular hunting rifle. He cautiously opened the barrel to tip out the shells, but there were none. Confused, he tried again. But there was nothing. Sebastien shrugged, slung Tate's bag over his shoulder, and trudged to the ancient steel door of the electricity box. He crossed his fingers, and flipped the emergency light switch.

             I dropped to my knees and closed my eyes tight against the sudden glare. My mind strained to comprehend the situation, but all I came up with was 'it was dark, and now it's light.' Crouching and holding my breath, I brought my hand up to shade my eyes and opened them slowly. Lightbulbs had been illuminated in rows across the ceiling. I had come across a dead end. I turned to go, but froze as I lifted my eyes to my exit. I backed up against the wall, trapped.
He held up his hands.
             "Please," he said "Don't freak out." For some reason I was surprised the he spoke english. I'd always heard that the New Breed did, but I guess I'd always imagined them speaking some alien tongue.
             "Listen," he continued, "I have your gun, your supplies," For a moment he looked almost frightened, but then the moment was gone and a stern, threatening look followed. "You've got nowhere to run."
The New Breed's words seemed to hit me physically. He was right, there was no escaping now. Even if I did manage a miraculous get away, I would die eventually of starvation, of the cold, or any manner of vicious creature. But why wasn't I dead on the floor already? What did he need me alive for? A wave of terror washed over me as I imagined all of the terrible possibilities. I felt sick, and slid my back down the cold stone wall to the ground, trapped.

             How could she be a murderer? Sebastien thought as he watched all signs of defiance and hope fade from Tate's face. Could this just be an act? He crouched down, instinctively feeling sympathy for the huddled Original. He must look terrifying to her, if she really wasn't involved. 
            "What's your name?" He said, carefully. Tate tried in vain to scoot back further against the wall, and lifted her eyes to meet Sebastien's. For a moment he wondered whether or not she could speak.
            "Olive." She whispered, trembling visibly. Her eyes drifted back to her knees that were tucked up against her chest. Tate chuckled sarcastically to herself and looked beck up. "And yourself?" Seb couldn't help a sad little smile.
            "Sebastien."

            The silence that followed wasn't sinister, or tense. It was calm. Legs weary from crouching, Sebastien sat, and rubbed the back of his neck. Olive studied her knees, as if trying to memorize every thread and detail.
            "Are you going to kill me?" Olive asked, choking on the last word. She look like she was going to cry. Seb sighed.
            "I don't know."

            I stared up a Sebastien, frustrated. What did he mean by 'I don't know?' He looked away and muttered something to himself. We sat like that for what seemed to be an eternity, and then Sebastien stood. I knew he had come to a decision, and fought back tears as I mulled over every bad decision that lead me here. He shook his head, and took a step forward.
           "No." I barely heard the word, and it took me a moment to comprehend what he meant. Sebastien held out his hand to help me up. I took it, cautiously.
           "You're not a killer," He said as he pulled me to my feet and handed me my coat. "I know that now." I was confused, but other motives consumed my mind. The New Breed was not going to let me just leave. I didn't know where I would be taken, but I would never know freedom again, I was sure of it. As soon as I was out of arms reach, I would run.
            Sebastien waited as I pulled on my boots and coat, and lead me out of the cave. The cold had embedded itself in my bones, and I clenched my jaw to keep my teeth from chattering, but there was nothing I could do about the ever-present trembling. The New Breed seemed to notice it and, as we reached the mouth of the cave, he pulled off his outer rain shell and rapped it around me.
           "It's not very warm," He said as he zipped up the front for me, "But it'll help." I was thankful, but grimaced as he put his arm around my shoulders. Sebastien was unnaturally warm, and smelled like wood smoke and something else I couldn't quite place. Something sweet, and strangely comforting, but with his arm as it was, it would be hard to get away as easily as I thought. I caught a break quickly though, when Sebastien released me to shut off the lights. I hesitated, doubting my ability to outrun the New Breed, and considering that he still held my bag, I might have a rough night. I considered waiting until Sebastien fell asleep, but who knew when that would be? No, it's now or never. I waited until his back was fully turned, and bolted.

           Sebastien barely heard the crunch of Olive's footsteps over the hum of the electricity box, and when he whipped around she already had a good head start. He took off after her, sluggishly at first. The snow was shin high, and Sebastien felt as if he were running through water. Olive bounded gracefully towards the bridge, widening the gap between them with every step.
            "Olive!" Sebastien shouted after her, "Olive wait! You don't need to--" He was interrupted by a sharp crack, just as Olive's foot hit the bridge. The wood was ancient and rotting, and she broke through it as if it were paper, and tumbled into the icy water below. The current pulled her under in a matter of seconds. Sebastien sprinted down the riverbank, mind racing. He cursed as he spotted her, clutching frantically to the rocks on the other side of the bank.
            "Olive don't move." He called to her, but the current overpowered her, and she was pulled further downstream. Sebastien raced after, and watched helplessly as Olive was pulled under again.

            My lungs shrieked for air, as I clawed hopelessly at the too-smooth rocks at the bottom of the river. Even as I reached the surface, the cold water prohibited me from breathing. Feeling like I held two tonnes on my chest, I caught a glimpse of Sebastien somewhere close by. As the river tugged me further on, and pulled me in circles, I doubted my survival. And I gave in. Consciousness slipped from my mind, and a dark fog clouded my vision. 

I felt a sharp tug on my arm, and something warm, but I was already gone.

            When I opened my eyes again, it was a beautiful autumn evening. The sun through the turning leaves washed my perfect world in gold. The sky was a pale blue, though snow drifted to the ground. The air felt warm. I sank to my knees, and picked a delicate, dried leaf up off of the ground...
            "Olive?" A voice cut through my nightmare. I turned in a circle, scouring the surrounding trees for the source. Sebastien's warm hand on my forehead pulled me out of my half-sleep. A feeling of confusion struck me, as I gathered my thoughts and tried to remember where I was. I began to recall a few details and, coming to the conclusion that I was dead, I sat up, but a little to quickly for my head. My vision blurred, I lay back down, and suddenly remembered what had happened.
Well then. I thought, Kudos to me for living.

Sebastien spoke quietly into a radio, fiddling with the zipper tab on his jacket.
           "She's awake now, sir," He muttered "but she's not in good condition. Are you sure it isn't possible to send someone?"
There was a sigh from the radio.
           "We just don't have anyone to spare, Ark."
           "I understand. I'll do my best to get her back to camp."
           "You'll do fine."
There was a pause.
           "Ark?"
           "Yes sir?"
           "You're sure she's not the one? One hundred percent sure?"
Sebastien hesitated.
           "Yes sir. One hundred percent."
           "I guess we'll just have to trust your judgement until you get back here. Over and out."
           Sebastien flicked off the radio and clipped it to his bag. He turned his attention back to the Original. Her eyelids flickered and she cringed as Sebastien checked the temperature of her forehead again. She still felt cold to him, but her skin was damp and paler than it had been before. Hypothermia had set in, despite the New Breed's efforts. It frightened him, because she was innocent and scared. And because it was his fault.
           "Olive," Sebastien began, his voice cautious. She jumped, startled. "We have to get you on your feet, okay?" Olive nodded, biting her lip. She pushed herself up onto her elbows.
           "Careful," Sebastien warned her, remembering her first attempt. He opened his flask of water and handed it to her. She took it gratefully and finished off half of it. Sebastien smiled and, to his surprise, she shyly returned it. 

          "Where were you headed?" Sebastien asked.
          "New Panama."
Seb raised an eyebrow.
          "So you've heard the rumours then?"
Olive looked up at him with a confused expression.
          "I hate to break it to you," Sebastien continued "But that's exactly what they are. Just rumours. It's no more warmer there than it is here."
          "Oh so you've been there, have you?" Olive grumbled.
Sebastien scoffed and shook his head.
          "It's a hell of a walk back to Sapphire, we should get going. Are you going to be alright?"
Olive grimaced. "Just a bit dizzy I think. Sapphire?"
          "Sapphire Base 4." Sebastien explained, "Home sweet home."

          I rolled up my sleeping bag, while Sebastien put out the fire. We were back under the bridge that I had made camp the night before. Or, what I presumed to be the night before. There was no way to tell how long I had been out for.
The sun had just risen above the trees, burning dully trough the smog and clouds. I could see the footprints around the bridge that the New Breed had not bothered to cover.
No one's tracking him. I reminded myself.
I looked up to find Sebastien watching me. Studying me as if I were a strange creature.
         "What?"
         "What do you mean?"
         "Why are you looking at me like that?"
         "Like what?"
I scoffed and brushed the hair from my forehead.
         "Like I'm--" I couldn't find the right words. Like what? "Like I'm about to vanish into thin air or something."
He smiled and looked at me from the side of his eyes.
         "Well," he laughed, "are you?"
         "No." I picked up my bag and pulled it over my shoulder, and stumbled a bit from the weight. "Let's go."
He gave me the same look as before.
         "What?"
         "You're not well." Sebastien sighed, "I guess I'm just worried about--"
He seemed to be looking past me, to something only he could see. "about whether you'll make it or not."
         "And that would be such an inconvenience, would it?" He picked up on the sarcasm and grimaced.
         "If you're innocent, yes." Sebastien's voice dropped to a mumble, "I don't need that on my conscience."
I started to feel a little sorry for snapping at him. He seemed to care about keeping me alive. Seemed to genuinely care about my well-being. I let my voice soften a little.
         "I'll be alright."
Sebastien slung his pack onto his back and gestured for me to follow him out from under the bridge.
I began to question if I had misjudged him.


We had walked almost half the day by the time Sebastien finally spoke. 
"Where'd the coat come from?"
I looked down to my front, wondering where the question came from. It was nothing special; navy blue, with brown plastic buttons, and white, fake fur lining. It 
kept to cold out, but not the ever-present dampness. It took me a moment to think of where I had picked it up.
"I found it," I began, remembering the night that the cold almost became too much. "In an old house."
"Where?"
"On the bed, I think."
Sebastien shook his head. "I meant, where was the house?"
"I don't know."
"What do you mean?" He looked as if I had just insulted him.
"I mean I don't know!" I started to get frustrated. "I don't even know where I am! How am I supposed to know where some stupid, random house was?" Sebastien opened his mouth to speak, but I didn't let him. "Why do you even care? It's just a coat! Do you want one like it? 'Cause it's a little too feminine for you I think!" He tried to interrupt again. "And you seem to have a fine coat there. Where did you get it?" I tried to imitate his voice, "Do you know exactly where?" For a moment, he just stared at me, then shook his head. We had stopped walking, and my feet had begun to burn from the cold.
"About three month ago, there were a series of massacres." Sebastein began, continuing walking. I skittered after him. "Three of our camps were almost completely wiped out. The survivors all said different things. One said that the murderer was 10 feet tall with throwing knives and four different semi-automatic guns." Despite the grave nature of the story, I couldn't help but snicker. "However," He continued, stopping to face me. "One thing remained constant." He lifted his chin, gesturing in my direction. "The words on the back of that coat."
I couldn't remember what it said. Something stenciled and spray painted. Tail, or tale, or time. Something with a 'T.' 
Then something clicked in my brain. 
"You think I--" I had to stop to laugh. 
"You are in the area," He told me, very seriously, through my laughter, "and you are wearing the coat." 
I stopped. "You really think I did it?" His expression didn't change. 
"No, I don't think you did."
"Then--"
"There are protocols." He seemed to know what I was about to say. "There are precautions we have to take. If there is any possibility that you are a threat, it must be analysed, and if found accurate, you will be..." He searched for an appropriate word. I expected something like 'terminated' or 'eliminated' but I was disappointed. "...dealt with." He concluded. Something about the words, and they way he spoke them, made it seem very sinister, and I was at a loss. 
I opened my mouth to speak but no sound came out. I was suddenly very scared, and a little dizzy. I wanted him to tell me that if I was found innocent, I would be free to continue my journey. But that could not be the case. Originals were not welcome in the New Breed world. I could not ask what would become of me. I did not want to know. Whatever happened, I was sure it would hurt. 
"You alright?" Sebastien asked, ducking his head to meet my eyes straight on. I couldn't answer him. My head swam, and my stomach churned with hunger and nerves. "Here," He said, pulling off his raincoat and laying it on the ground, "Sit down for a second." 
I did as I was told. He kept his eyes on mine and checked my radial pulse. His hand was hot, and burned dully against my skin, but something about the warmth, or his smell, was soothing. I still could not place the scent. Something that brought about fond, blurry memories of easy days in safe tents, sheltered and secure. His scent alone made me want to trust him. To bury myself in his arms and stay there, just to feel guarded and sure again.

"We've been walking a long time," Sebastien crouched beside Olive, digging through his backpack for some food or something to drink. "I'd hoped to get to Sapphire by sundown, but maybe it's time to set up camp." He glanced up at the sky, and the light that was fading quickly from it. Looking back down at the Original, he was reminded once again that she was sick, scared, cold, and most likely hungry. She tucked her knees up to her chest and closed her eyes tight. 
"What's wrong?" 
"Nothing."
Sebastien waited for more of an explaination. There was a long pause. 
"I'm just..." She opened her eyes again, but focused hard on the fabric of her pants. "Tired." Her voice suggested there was more to it than that, but Sebastien didn't press. He got her up, got her to eat something, and put up his self-assembling, one person tent. 
"It might be a bit of a tight fit," The New Breed admitted, "but it'll be warmer than sleeping out here." 
Olive looked sceptical. 
"Oh and..." He continued, feeling her forhead tempurature, "You need to take these." He handed her a pair of simple-looking white pills. "The fever is a good sign, but we still need to bring your temperature down." 
Olive popped them in her mouth, hesitated, and then swallowed. Sebastien was glad she didn't need more coaxing. He was tired and not in the mood to negotiate. She shuffled down into her sleeping bag, and pulled her hood over her head. Night had moved in quickly, and Sebastien's dying flashlight flickered on the tent's ceiling. He switched it off and slipped into his own sleeping bag, his back pressed up against Olive's. He was more tired than he had thought, and sleep took him almost instantly. 
Sebastien woke blind. Morning had not yet come, and Olive squirmed next to him. He felt her trembling, and, in a half dazed sleep state, put his arm around her shoulders, hoping his body heat would help. The cold was something everyone knew. It knew no age, race, or status. And every living being could sympathize with it. 


It was wrong, but I felt safe. In that moment, I knew he cared. I knew for sure. He wanted me to live. He wanted me to have a life beyond the coming events.
        I was warm, and secure, and he cared. And, in that moment, I didn't.   




More to follow! Thanks for reading!