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The Journey South

Soft limestone pebbles crumbled under the rough soles of their shoes. They moved steadily, paying no attention to the well being of the pebbles. Once in a while the rough sole happened upon a piece of glass that shattered with a series of sharp sounds. The melody of an occasional breeze completed a calming mood. The larger figure paced slowly, steadily, surely, soft leather belts creaked with each step, straining as the man moved. A large backpack hung heavily from his shoulders, stuffed with all sorts of supplies and tied with ropes and pieces of cloth. He hung each hand on one of the backpack straps, resting the muscles, providing comfort. Another piece of glass shattered under his heavy shoe. The man breathed laboriously, as though he had been walking for a while and the backpack was no longer as light as it used to be twenty years ago. His younger companion skipped ahead, stopped by a cement barrier and leaned over it; his feet were firmly planted on the ground. The boy saw the world in a much more interesting light than the world deserved. Wonder, curiosity, passion, he was full of it. The boy leaned over the barrier, balancing himself, and looked down from the highway bridge, down at the wasted land. Rubbish, pieces of metal, car parts, dried up plants. He turned his head, a skeleton of a strange animal pocked from a pile of garbage, large metal poles stuck from its empty ribcage.

“Watch it Lucian,” said the man, “lean any more and you will fall over and join that carcass there.” The man glanced at the bones; he instinctively extended his neck, revealing a red rash. A soft breeze alerted him to the fact and the man quickly wrapped it tighter with his scarf. “I am careful!” The boy shouted, his breath was somewhat obstructed by the effort of leaning on his chest. He jumped off of the cement barrier, back on to the cracked asphalt of the highway and joined the man, walking beside him, running occasionally to catch up. The boy wore a fat brown coat with a great multiplicity of pockets, mostly torn. His rough pants were tightly stuffed into some heavily worn black travelling boots. “Why can’t I carry something like Jamie?” he asked, looking back at the canine behind them. The dog wore a makeshift harness with a few knots and flasks; it glanced at the boy, sniffed the air and lowered its head as if waiting to be petted. “Because,” said the man, drawing out the last syllable to last the entire time it took to glance at the dog “because he is older than you.” Clearly satisfied with a semi-reasonable response the man went on to explain how the musculature and bone structure of the young and growing is susceptible to strain and injury and that is why Lucian couldn’t carry anything just yet. “Yeah right,” Lucian mumbled, he could always tell when his uncle made things up but there was no point arguing so he just let it go.

Lucian often ran a little ahead of his uncle so that he could stop and inspect things or maybe even find something to be traded off at the next stop. He was not allowed to stay behind but could wonder off ahead about as far as his uncle could hear his footsteps. That distance grew smaller as his uncle grew older. This time Lucian had an exceptionally generous amount of time to inspect an open briefcase that lay by the highway. All manners of electronics and gadgets were strewn in a small circle around it. He was sure that at least some of it was worth enough to be traded for a little of that orange liquid his uncle used to keep in a special flask. Lucian picked up a few gadgets and stuffed them into the remaining intact pockets on his coat. “Are you coming?” He yelled to his uncle, eyes still fixed at his findings. He tinkered with the electronics, pulling a few loose wires and bending some of the metallic parts. If any of it was worth something, its value was plunging. Lucian scrounged up his face, tongue sticking out; a particularly stubborn piece of steel wire was blocking a very interesting looking button. “Uncle,” the boy mumbled, no response came this time either. A few minutes later he was brought back to reality by Jamie’s whimpering, he turned back to see what was going on. “Uncle Grimmel? What’s the matter? Why are you lying down?” He stared for a moment at the motionless body of his uncle. “This is not funny!” He yelled loudly, “Get up!” His uncle did not move, Jamie was nudging the man’s breast with its muzzle. “Uncle Grimmel!” Alarmed, the boy ran to his uncle and knelt down beside the body. ‘Maybe I should give him that orange liquid,’ he thought, while hurriedly feeling for the flask in his uncle’s backpack. As soon as he found it, Lucian uncorked the flask and dripped some into his uncle’s mouth. It was empty. He shook it, slightly at first and then violently until a single drop fell on his uncle’s cheek. He stared at it, not blinking, not breathing. Jamie barked, snapping Lucian out of his twilight state for a moment, the boy glanced at his dog, and then again at his dead uncle. He sat back, an uneasy buzzing sensation washed over his body. His arms felt heavy, he couldn’t hold them up any longer and let them slide to his sides. The flask rolled out of his hand and on to the dirty asphalt, the sound it made was offensively cheerful; a series of clear metallic clinks. He stared at the flask for a while, his body was so heavy, gravity was pulling him to the ground and his mind was unable to fight it. Lucian relented; he was on his back, looking at the dirty grey sky, watching it dim to a pale darkness. (new)He lay there, on the cold ground; consciousness seemed to remain just barely out of reach. Vague colors flashed across his field of vision, blurry shapes, subdued sounds. He was there, yet not exactly. It seemed like hours before the sounds began to clear, take form, become specific. Lucian had almost forgotten why he was on the ground.

Distant footsteps alerted him, they were accompanied by some other duller and heavier sound. ‘Hooves,’ he thought. An image of a horse flashed before his eyes, it appeared to be unusually colorful, as though seen through an optical filter. It morphed into each animal with hooves that Lucian could think of. The sounds grew closer, through his eyelids Lucian could just make out a shadow of something moving right in front of him. His eyes blinked open and for a moment the boy saw a figure, with wings! Head raised slightly, Lucian stared in the direction of his hallucination. The footsteps stopped not too far behind him, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Lucian turned around and saw a woman, dressed almost exactly like his uncle. In one hand she held a rope that was attached to a mule, at least that’s what the deformed animal looked like. Large sacks and bags were piled on its back, presumably filled with supplies and stock for trade.

The woman was facing north-east but her head was turned towards Lucian. She appeared to be looking for something, as though her attention was caught by a thing now absent. She blinked, gathered her eyebrows for a moment and turned towards Lucian. Lazily, pulling the mule behind her, she came towards where he lay. Unable to process the events, Lucian closed his eyes and lowered his head back on to the rough asphalt. It landed on a tiny, hard pebble, causing some pain. Sweet revenge, thought the pebble. The woman approached the two bodies, ‘didn’t this kid just stare at me?” she thought. Her eyes fixed on Lucian, his ruse had worked and she considered him unconscious. A soft thumping sound alerted her to Jamie’s presence; she quickly drew a small, ancient looking gun and aimed it at the dog. “Are you going to bite me, boy?” she asked the dog. Jamie stared at the woman as if amazed at the tremendous intelligence it took to strike up a conversation with a dog. Bored, he turned away and resumed sleep. “Guess not!” the woman exclaimed, stuffing the gun back in to her jacket and turning towards Grimmel’s body. “What have we got here!” she mumbled while crouching down and reaching for Grimmel’s neck. The woman checked for a pulse, there wasn’t any; she leaned over and listened to the man’s heart, silence. “I guess he won’t mind then…ugh!” the rash on the dead man’s neck oozed some sort of a viscous yellow paste; it got on to her hand. “Diiiiiiisgusting!” she moaned, wiping it off on Grimmel’s jacket. “Yech,” a small shudder ran through her body, but the need for survival prevailed and she pulled open the dead man’s jacket. Her hands quickly inspected all the pockets, pulling out some pills, papers, a pen, a beam of reflected light hit her eye causing her to squint. ‘What is this,’ she thought while turning towards a small locket that hung on a metal wire around the man’s neck. She grabbed it, inspected it and yanked the thing, tearing the necklace.

The woman stood up, grabbed Grimmel’s backpack and threw it over her mule. Hand on her hips, the woman inspected the sight for anything she could have missed. Her eyes fell upon Lucian once again. ‘He seems to be breathing,’ she thought at the sight of Lucian’s raising chest.

Thanx Braxie, I have used a good deal of your suggestions and divided the text into paragraphs, they may not be gaia compatible but they are msword compatible. I was aiming more for a book-ish look, really. Pale darkness, I guess it is somewhat like a fading in and out dimness type of thing. It's really something to contemplate and interpret for the reader so I think I will leave it in.
The Journey South

Rough gravel crumbled under the soles of their shoes. They moved steadily, paying no attention to its well being. Once in a while his heavy boot landed on a piece of glass that shattered with a series of sharp sounds. The melody of an occasional breeze added to the calming mood. The larger figure paced slowly, steadily, soft leather belts creaked with each step, straining as the man moved. A large backpack hung heavily from his shoulders, it was packed with all sorts of supplies and tied with ropes and pieces of cloth. His hands relaxed on the straps of the backpack. Another shard of glass shattered under his heavy step. The man’s breath came in shallow rasps, small beads of sweat formed on his temples. He was tired, so very tired. His younger companion skipped ahead to a near-by cement barrier.

‘You see the world with more interest than it deserves,’ the man thought as he followed the boy’s movement with his eyes. He watched as the boy leaned over the barrier, balancing himself, and looked down from the highway bridge, down at the wasted land. Rubbish, pieces of metal, car parts, dried up plants. The boy turned his head, a skeleton of a strange animal poked from a pile of garbage, large metal poles stuck from its empty ribcage.

“Watch it Lucian,” the man said, “lean any more and you will fall over and join that carcass there.” He glanced at the bones and extended his neck to get a better look, a red rash glistened from under his scarf. The soft breeze alerted him, and he quickly pulled the scarf higher.

“I am careful!” the boy shouted. He jumped off of the cement barrier, back on to the cracked asphalt of the highway and joined the man, walking beside him, running occasionally to catch up.

The boy wore a fat brown coat with a great multiplicity of pockets, mostly torn. His pants were tightly stuffed into some heavily worn black travelling boots.

“Why can Jamie carry something and you don’t let me carry anything?” he asked, looking back at the canine behind them. The dog wore a makeshift harness with a few knots and flasks; it glanced at the boy, sniffed the air and lowered its head as if waiting to be petted.

“Becaaaause,” said the man, prolonging the ‘ah’ just enough to come up with an explanation, “because he is older than you.” Clearly satisfied with a reasonable response the man went on to explain how the musculature and bone structure of the young and growing is susceptible to strain and injury and that is why Lucian couldn’t carry anything just yet.

“Yeah right,” Lucian mumbled. He could always tell when his uncle made things up but there was no point arguing so he just let it go.

Lucian often ran a little ahead of his uncle so that he could stop and inspect things or maybe even find something to be traded off at the next stop. He was not allowed to stay behind but could wander off ahead about as far as his uncle could hear his footsteps. That distance grew smaller as his uncle grew older. Lucian had an exceptionally generous amount of time to inspect an open briefcase that lay by the highway. All manners of electronics and gadgets were strewn in a small circle around it. He was sure that at least some of it was worth enough to be traded for a little of that orange liquid his uncle used to keep in a special flask. Lucian picked up a few gadgets and stuffed them into the remaining intact pockets on his coat.

“Are you coming?” he yelled to his uncle, eyes still fixed on his findings. He tinkered with the electronics, pulling a few loose wires and bending some of the metallic parts. If any of it was worth something, its value was plunging. Lucian scrunched up his face and stuck out his tongue; a particularly stubborn piece of steel wire was blocking a very interesting looking button.

“Uncle,” the boy mumbled, but no response came this time either. His concentration was finally broken by Jamie’s whimpering, he turned back to check on his uncle. “Uncle Grimmel? What’s the matter? Why are you lying down?” He stared for a moment at the motionless body of his uncle. “This is not funny!” he yelled loudly. “Get up!” His uncle did not move. Jamie was nudging the man’s breast with its muzzle. “Uncle Grimmel!” alarmed, the boy ran towards the man and knelt down beside the body. ‘Maybe I should give him that orange liquid,’ he thought, and hurriedly felt for the flask in his uncle’s backpack.

As soon as he found it, Lucian uncorked the flask and dipped it over his uncle’s mouth. It was empty. He shook it, slightly at first and then violently until a single drop fell on his uncle’s cheek. He stared at it, not blinking, not breathing. Jamie barked, snapping Lucian out of his twilight state, the boy glanced at his dog, and then again at his dead uncle.

He sat back, an uneasy buzzing sensation washed over his body. His arms felt heavy; he couldn’t hold them up any longer and let them slide to his sides. The flask rolled out of his hand and on to the dirty asphalt. It made an offensively cheerful clinking sound before coming to a rest just a few feet away. He stared at the flask for a while, his body was so heavy, gravity was pulling him to the ground and his mind was unable to fight it. Lucian relented; he was on his back, looking at the dirty gray sky, watching it dim to a pale darkness. Vague colors flashed across his field of vision, blurry shapes, subdued sounds. He was there, yet not exactly. It seemed like hours before the sounds began to clear, take form, become specific. Lucian had almost forgotten why he was on the ground.

Distant footsteps accompanied by some other duller and heavier sound caught his attention. ‘Hooves,’ he thought. An image of a horse flashed in his mind, it appeared to be unusually colorful, as though seen through an optical filter. It morphed into each animal with hooves that Lucian could think of. The sounds were still a good distance away when he felt a shadow of something move right in front of him. His eyes blinked open and for a moment the boy saw a figure, with wings! Slightly raising his head, he stared in the direction of his hallucination. The footsteps behind him stopped.

Lucian turned around and saw a woman, dressed almost exactly like his uncle. In one hand she held a rope that was attached to a mule, at least that’s what the deformed animal looked like. Large sacks and bags were piled on its back, filled with supplies and stock for trade.

The woman was facing northeast but her attention was caught by something just ahead of Lucian. ‘Did she see it too?’ he wondered. She stared intently at whatever it was for about ten second and then blinked, gathered her eyebrows and turned to Lucian. Lazily, pulling the mule behind her, she approached his location.

Unable to process the events, Lucian closed his eyes and lowered his head back on to the rough asphalt. It landed on a tiny, hard pebble, causing some pain. Sweet revenge, thought the pebble.

‘Didn’t this kid just stare at me?’ she thought, eyes fixed on Lucian. After a quick inspection of his body the woman decided to let him be. A soft thumping sound alerted her to Jamie’s presence; she quickly drew a small, ancient looking gun and aimed it at the dog. “Are you going to bite me, boy?” she grunted at the animal. Jamie stared at the woman as if amazed at the tremendous intelligence it took to strike up a conversation with a dog. Bored, he turned away and resumed sleep. “Guess not!” the woman exclaimed, stuffing the gun back in to her jacket and turning towards Grimmel’s body.

“What have we got here!” she mumbled while crouching down and reaching for Grimmel’s neck. The woman checked for a pulse, there wasn’t any; she leaned over and listened to the man’s heart, silence. “I guess he won’t mind then…ugh!” the rash on his neck oozed a viscous yellow paste; it got onto her hand. “Diiiiiiisgusting!” she moaned, wiping it off on Grimmel’s jacket. “Yech,” a small shudder ran through her body, but her survival instincts prevailed and she pulled open the dead man’s jacket.

Her hands quickly inspected the pockets for anything of value. A beam of reflected light made her squint. ‘What is this,’ she thought, her sight fell upon a small locket that hung on a metal wire around the man’s neck. She studied it briefly and yanked the thing off his neck.

The woman stood up, seized Grimmel’s backpack and threw it over her mule. Hand on her hips; she scanned the site for anything she could have missed. Her eyes fell upon Lucian once again. ‘He seems to be breathing,’ she thought at the sight of Lucian’s raising chest. She could swear that he looked at her a few moments ago.

“Alright smart guy,” she muttered and pulled a piece of cloth out of her coat, her other hand produced a small bottle with some clear liquid. She quickly crouched down and tipped the bottle over the cloth, a small wet spot appeared. “Good night,” she whispered and placed the cloth over Lucian’s face. His eyes opened in alarm, he tried to move but the liquid acted too swiftly and before long he was unconscious. It took only mere moments to tie Lucian up and fling him over her mule. The beast didn’t seem to notice the extra weight.

Lucian was unconscious for hours; he could tell it got darker even with closed eyes. The realization that he was tied up had slowly dawned upon him. At first it scared him, but then the events of the past hours flooded his mind. It made him sick, the inundating effects of shock were wearing off, fear was slowly creeping over him. Lucian felt his body go numb as a tight, heavy, dark knot pulsated in his chest.

Just this morning he was on the way to New Aurora with his uncle, they were going to have a “happy life” as his uncle used to say. He wandered what the woman was going to do with him, it didn’t matter, there was nothing else. He had nothing else.

Lucian opened his eyes and saw the dirty ground slowly move below him, dried up plants and bones were scattered everywhere. He looked forward at the woman; she was walking just a little ahead of the mule, smoking. Lucian could see the gun she had aimed at Jamie hanging from a sling on her waist. He hoped that she didn’t kill his dog.

The one thing that penetrated his numbness was the putrid smell of the mule. Lucian glanced at the animal’s body; rough brown fur grew in patches over his wart covered pinkish skin. The effects of the drug had lingered for a while longer, aided by the cradling motion of the mule it was just enough to put Lucian back to sleep.

He woke up when the mule had stopped; it was still the middle of the night. His eyes opened and he saw a vast junkyard filled with cars, busses, appliances and all sorts of other mechanical waste. Lucian had accidentally knocked down one of the bags the mule was carrying as he shifted for a better look. The woman immediately turned backwards, their eyes met for a moment. Without as much as a nod she turned away and walked off towards a large mound of broken computers. She crouched down and dug her hands in to it, pulling out an occasional piece of equipment, inspecting it and sorting it in to two piles beside her.

Lucian stared at her from the top of the mule; he had hoped that she would let him free once she saw he was awake. “Hey lady,” he yelled in her direction, “let me off this thing!”

The woman got up and slowly made her way towards him, a nasty frown twisted her unpleasant features. His heart was racing as she came right up to his face. Her hand tightened around a flock of his hair and she pulled sharply. “Ahh!” Lucian couldn’t help but cry out in pain. The woman smiled, revealing several missing teeth, her rank breath filled his nostrils as she spoke.

“You will only answer when I ask you something, got it?!” she tugged at his hair again to encourage a reply.

“Yes!” he cried out. A grin of satisfaction crossed her face; she turned around and marched back towards the computers without as much as another word.

First rays of daylight penetrated the dark night skies. A light breeze brought with it the fresh smell of rotting flesh and chemicals. Just another day in the wasted land. The woman got up for a stretch; a loud moan escaped her as she bent over. She glanced at Lucian, a look of realization crossed her face, “boy, you are going to be looking through this garbage for me.” Seeing his expression, she quickly added, “shut up, it was not a question.”

The woman approached Lucian and untied his hands. She grabbed him by the hair and yanked him down. A dull grunt escaped Lucian as the wind was knocked out of him by the force of the impact. The woman knelt beside him and pressed her knee on his chest, she fastened a metallic collar around his neck. A rope was attached to it through a small loop on its side. “Now you won’t be running away,” she whispered in his ear and smiled. Her knee dug into Lucian’s chest as she leaned on it while getting up, his grimace of pain was ignored. Before he could get up, she pulled the rope sharply and yanked him off the ground. “Come on you stupid cry baby,” she grunted at his choking and coughing. “Sift through that pile,” she pointed at the same mound of computers that she went through a little earlier. Reluctantly but obediently he followed her orders, at least he was going to be able to tinker with electronics for a while.


I think I will just e-mail you ><