Laughter and shouts are what woke me.
Most of those in this building preoccupied themselves with endless partying aided by drink and drugs. They acted as if the world wasn’t over. Trouble is, the world is over, and has been since nuclear fire swallowed up most of organised living 300 years ago. I just wished they’d all wake up and realize that.
I sighed and wrenched myself out of bed. I guess my apartment could be worse. There was only three rooms: a bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen/living room. It wasn’t much, but it was a far better than being homeless.
My inconsiderate neighbors and I lived in a crumbling London apartment complex. Somehow a fair few of them survived the nuclear war. Their tall, thin stature allowed the entrance to be easily guarded, and most blocks had a dedicated security team funded through rent paid by residents. It was where the sane in this world lived. The insane roamed the lawless sprawl of rubble below. Preying on the weak and defenseless.
A growl from my stomach alerted me to my hunger. I dashed to the kitchen and cut myself a slice of bread. Hopefully, there was still some butter left in the pantry. But no such luck I opened it up and found it empty.
Aly. My little sister. My lovable, but selfish sister. Butter was a luxury in this world. A luxury that I looked forward to. She’d always eat nearly all of it. I slammed the pantry shut in frustration, and took an angry bite of my plain bread.
Where is she anyway? She’s never out this early. A pang of worry washed over me.. Even though she was nearly 16, I didn’t like the thought of her walking round on her own. Some shady characters lived in the Block. I shoved on my shoes, shrugged into my jacket and headed out of the grubby little flat.
The hallway was filled with the acrid stench of alcohol and drugs. It took one breath of the air and I was coughing and spluttering. I stumbled over to the stairwell and took a minute to compose myself. The air was fresh here. Thank God those heavy doors kept the fumes out.
The ‘School’ was on the 23rd floor of the building. It was set up a couple decades after the war by a few surviving teachers. I don’t know how they managed it, but they cobbled together a few textbooks and blackboards, and turned the floor into a set of classrooms. The kids were mainly taught about practical stuff, survival skills, how to defend themselves, things that they’d need to know to stay alive.
I checked my watch. 7am. Alyssa didn’t start classes for another 20 minutes. What could she be doing? I pushed open the door to the 23rd floor and scanned the hallway.
And I spotted her. She was sat against the wall, reading a battered old novel. Lord knows how she got her hands on that thing. She was always reading.
I jogged over to where she was sitting. “There you are. I was wondering where you went. Why are you down here so early, silly?”
She looked up, eyes still on her book for a moment before fixing on me. “I came down here because I can’t get a moment’s peace with those hyenas next door. Do I have to go to school today? It’s so dull. I’d much rather go to the market and trade with you. At least that’s interesting.”
I shook my head. “Aly you need to go. They teach you important stuff. You know that.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah I know it’s important, but that doesn’t mean it’s interesting, does it? Besides, it won’t matter if I miss just one day, will it?” She raised her eyebrows and smiled.
“Aly c’mon you know that-”
“Oh please Adam, I won’t be any trouble, you know that.” Her eyes grew wide, and her face contorted into a picture of childlike innocence.
I grimaced. “Fine. But you keep your mouth shut when I’m trading, and you aren’t to leave my side no matter what. Is that clear?”
“Crystal.” Her face broke into a wide grin, which I couldn’t help returning.
We left the hall, and jogged down to the ground floor. We were headed to the market, which was around a 5 minute walk from the block. The place was no more than paved square littered with makeshift trading stalls. But the thing that was special about it, was that it had some protection for the traders. The merchants cobbled together some money every month and paid a few people to be hired guns. It kept the place safe, unlike other markets in the area. It was the only place where I’d trade when I was with Ally. I didn’t like putting her in danger when I could avoid it.
We shoved through the doors to the lobby of the block. Everything always looked nice down here early in the morning. The big glass windows (well the ones that still had their glass) let in lots of sunlight. It helped me look past how dingy and rundown this place was.
People swarmed around various salesman, who were peddling unusable junk. Only those who were scared of the wastes beyond the gates bought from there people. Traders that came into lobby generally sold stuff like broken pots and pans, and ‘armor’ made from sheets of jagged scrap metal. The markets with real goods were scattered across what used to be London, and dangerous though they may be, it was the only place where you could get stuff like butter, milk and other perishables of a good quality.
Upon reaching the other side of the crowd, I shoved through the heavy lobby doors, with Aly following shortly after. We made our way across the courtyard (which was really no more than a large space of dirt where the emaciated livestock was kept along with some poorly kept crops) towards the gate. The watchman took our names down and the time giving us the usual warning that if we didn’t return within 48 hours we’ll be assumed dead and our apartment rented to someone else. Following that they opened the gate and we walked into the wastes.
I’ve been told that the dingy brown land here once used to be filled with buildings and people, bustling with life, that London was one of the most vibrant cities on the planet. but I just can’t picture that. Not when nothing but brown ground with the occasional patch of rubble lay before me. It felt like it had always been like this. A wasteland.
“So what are we buying today? Anything fun?” chirped Aly as we trudged along, snapping me out of my reverie.
“I have to buy more butter since you ate it all this morning.”
She gasped in mock horror. “Me? Why I would never do such a thing. It was obviously that cat who lives with that couple down the hall. It must of snuck in and ate it all.
I raised an eyebrow.
“Okay fine. I ate it. Whatever. I’m sorry.”
“I know you did. Look you need to be more careful about how much food you use, okay? You know how difficult it can be to get. Don’t take so much next time.” I never did like being the authority figure. But since our parents died it wasn’t like I had much of a choice in the matter.
Frowning, she looked up and sighed, “Okay. Okay okay I’ll try to be more careful.”
We passed another patch of rubble, the market came into view. It sprawled out in a rough circle, with armed guards standing guard around the outer perimeter. The stalls themselves were arranged randomly, with vendors fashioning them out of whatever they could get their hands on: rusty car parts, slabs of concrete, ragged sheets of fabric.
The guard raised his gun as we approached, “Hands up.” He gave us a quick search and let us through. Weapons weren’t allowed inside. It kept the unruly out of the place.
“We get the milk from Wilson, right?” queried Aly. Wilson was a kindly old man who sold milk and cheese. He owned several cows which he always kept well fed so his produce was good. He always gave me a good price so I made a point of buying milk only from him.
“Yeah. Take a left up here and he’s the third stall along on your right.”
“Awesome.” She flashed a grin at me and dashed off.
I traipsed along behind her, still weary from sleep when I felt something grab my ankle. Looking down, I saw that it was an elderly man clad in filthy rags who clutching onto me. The unmistakable stench of alcohol filled my nose.
“Get off me!” I hissed.
“No. No no no. You must liste-”
“Look I don’t have time for whatever cult you’re part of.”
“I’m not part of a cult! I have only a warning for you and everyone here.” His eyes never left my face. He looked desperate.
I sighed. “All right. just make it quick.”
“Thank you. Thank you for your patience. But you must leave this place. Leave now. Go and take cover. Just get as far away from here as possible. It’s not safe!”
“What the hell are you talking about?” It was perfectly safe here. Security had the place well defended and kept undesirables out. What could possibly be wrong?
He looked away, lowering his voice, “They’re coming.”
“Excuse me?”
“They’re coming. To invade and use us all for slave labour. We’ll have no freedom. Just run, leave, escape while you still can!”
I scoffed and tugged away from his grasp. He was obviously drunk, and didn’t know what he was saying. I left his increasingly incoherent shouts behind me as I spotted that familiar dirty blonde hair that could only belong to my sister. I came to a halt next to her, but something in the sky caught my eye.
Thats when I saw them.
The strange floating objects in the sky, planes I think they were called, flew in by the hundred leaving tiny, deep blue packages floating down to the ground in their wake.
I squinted up into the sky, trying to get a better look.
No. Those were not packages. Those were people.
Hundreds upon hundreds of people, each carrying long black rifles in their arms. The confusion in my head suddenly assembled into a frightening realization - this was an invasion force.
Everyone around me was gaping into the sky. The merchants had stopped trading, children had ceased playing. We just stood. Frozen. Staring in horror at the enormous army descending before our very eyes.
A cold, mirthless laugh broke the silence. It was the man who had warned me earlier.
“I told you! I told you all! I told you this was going to happen! Looks to me that you all tossed away your own chance at survival! Get ready for something even worse than todays crappy existence, friends!” He yelled, before allowing another humorless cackle escape his throat, and staggering off.
At this, the crowd seemed to snap from its trance. People began to scramble from the scene? Oddly enough I felt nothing. My legs stayed planted on the floor, and my eyes fixed on the point where those once tiny blue figures now making soft thuds as they hit the ground.
The alien soldiers began marching towards our little market. Their feet moving in a constant rhythm. They wore helmets, making it impossible to gage how they felt.
Beside me, Aly was near hysterical with fear. She was tugging, shouting, and shoving me in an attempt to get me to leave but I felt oddly detached from it all. Almost as if my body had shut down and all I could do was stand here, helpless. She eventually resigned to the fact that I wasn’t going to leave and sat down in an anguished daze.
The blue soldiers had reached us now. I vaguely registered that I wasn’t alone, and that the more fearless of merchants had remained behind to try and defend this tiny piece of civilization. The security force also remained behind, moving forward into a defensive line with guns raised at these strange people. The foreign soldiers returned the gesture, moving into a defensive line and raising their own weapons.
The next few moments seemed to slow down, almost as if they stretched on forever. The tension was almost palpable, it filled the air and weighed it down, it’s heavy silence forcing everyone without a gun into a sort of terrified paralysis, waiting for some sort of resolution.
I stared at the stand-off when I noticed a deep blue boot move forward. The loud clatter of gunfire began.
