To The Settlement
The noon sun hung heavy in a bleached sky, pouring unrelenting heat onto the valley floor. Baked earth, fractured into a mosaic of fissures, stretched towards the hazy base of the Rocky Mountains. The land was a mix between sandy brown and rust, a vast, arid expanse whispering of forgotten life.
Scuff... Drag... Scuff
Against this desolate landscape, two silhouettes moved with painstaking slowness. One carried a rifle in his left hand and a rectangular metal box in the other, while the second figure was slumped heavily across his back.
Huff! Huff!
"Don't worry, Tom. We'll be there soon. We're already halfway there."
Aden tried his best to cheer both onward, but every step was grueling. Sweat plastered his ragged shirt on his back, the oppressive noon heat drawing out every drop of moisture. Every breath was a conscious effort, compounded by their water supply running out while cleaning Tom's injuries, making the final stretch agonizing. He couldn't even abandon their belongings to lessen the burden since most were essentials for any scavenger.
Suddenly, a sound startled. Faint at first, almost beneath the wind's whistle, but growing – a low, throbbing hum, rhythmic and metallic, like broken machinery grinding miles away, yet seemingly inside his skull.
He stopped in his tracks and scanned his surroundings for the source of the sound, but found nothing, just the wind and the ragged sound of his breathing.
"Just my ears ringing, maybe heatstroke." He muttered, forcing himself onward.
As time passed, his vision changed. The shimmering heat haze wasn't just waving; it seemed to thicken, overlaid with faint, dancing static. The rocks by the path momentarily pulsed, their edges blurring unnaturally before snapping back into focus.
He stumbled, almost dropping Tom.
"Shit, dehydration." He thought frantically, blinking hard, shaking his head violently.
"Focus. Just focus on getting Tom back."
The hum faded slightly, the visual static receded to a barely noticeable flicker at the edge of his sight, but a new layer of fear coiled in his gut – not just for Tom, but for his faltering senses.
"Is the wasteland finally getting to me?" He pushed the thought away, adjusted Tom's dead weight, and staggered forward, driven purely by the need to reach the settlement.
Huff! Huff!
Every passing minute felt like an hour; the increasingly rough terrain, coupled with the weirdness of his senses, offered no relief. The path had only elevated a bit, but it felt steep. Lethargy overwhelmed him once the adrenaline faded, his legs shaky, staggering with every step.
"Come on, Aden. You gotta move. Tom's life depends on you." He encouraged himself, but his body begged to differ.
Shit!
"Move, you stupid body." Despite his command, it refused to budge.
Whoops!
Instead, his boot caught on a fissure hidden by dust, and he almost fell back.
Shit!
He laid Tom down and took a seat himself. Shortly, he placed his fingers on the side of Tom's neck. Fortunately, he could feel the pulse, albeit irregular.
"Don't worry, partner. I'll get you home soon."
***
Minutes of rest were all he could afford, so he hoisted Tom up and continued the journey home.
"I hope Maria can treat him." Aden had a lot of things on his mind, but Tom's safety was his top priority.
Each step felt like it cost him dearly, but he knew each step also brought them fractionally closer to the settlement. Aden was so caught up in his thoughts that he nearly missed the subtle shift in the wind, carrying the faint scent of woodsmoke and something vaguely metallic - familiar smells.
"A.... aaaden." The sudden whisper startled him, relief washed over him more than alarm.
"Is it you, Tom?"
He couldn't help but call out.
"I'm thi….rsty.., Aden."
Tom's sudden request stumped him. The water supply had already run out. A pang of guilt struck Aden as he contemplated his reply. Then, forcing his focus outward, he noticed the surroundings properly.
"Wait, I remember this place."
Noticing the familiar landscape, he looked ahead and saw it: ahead, nestled against the rust-colored slopes, was the familiar, jagged silhouette of the Golden Valley settlement. He could make out the crooked spire of the scavenged Aermotor windmill reaching above the low cluster of scrap-metal and highway sign shacks, a beacon against the oppressive sky. Even the crude shape of the main gate barricade, built from wreckage he had helped haul himself, looked welcoming.
"We made it, Tom. We're almost there. Are you listening to me, Tom?" He called Tom with joy, but received no response. He checked for Tom's vital signs to be sure; fortunately, it was there.
"Hang in there, and you can drink to your heart's content."
The sight of the settlement and Tom's vital signs surging made him breathe a sigh of relief. Never had he been so happy to see the place where he had spent most of his life. The only thing that stopped him from jumping with joy was Tom on the back and his bone-deep exhaustion. They were about a hundred meters from the settlement, but he moved on with a newfound vigor.
With every step, the windmill loomed larger. He could now distinctly hear the groan from the blade with each turn, a rhythmic, familiar counterpoint to the ever-present wind. The settlement itself radiated a harsh reality of scavenged survival. The outer barricade wasn't a neat wall but a chaotic mix of rusted metal poles, concrete chunks ripped from shattered pathways, and the skeleton frames of gutted vehicles interwoven with rusting barbed wire.
As he moved closer, he could make out the main gate more clearly: two sections of concrete pillars reinforced with welded scrap metal and stop signs painted all over them, likely heavy enough to require several people to open. Nestled at both ends of the main gate were the watchtowers, made from old highway lighting poles - little more than a platform shielded by metal plates. He could even spot two familiar figures moving in the watch towers.
***
Golden Valley settlement
Swishhhhh!
A hot and dry wind blew across the settlement.
Glug! Glug! Glug!
"Ah, that hit the spot. Damn, why is it so hot today?"
Two figures were stationed in the watchtower, one wiping sweat from his brow with a grimy hand while drinking water.
Sigh!
"Be quiet, Jim. Your complaining won't fix the situation. The fact that we're inside a metal box isn't helping either."
"Geez, why do you have to be such a hard-ass, Bob? You may be my older brother, but I'm more fun than you. Also, I can't help that I'm sweating a river here."
Hmph!
Jim crossed his arms and turned around abruptly.
Sigh!
Bob was used to his brother's demeanor, he paid it no heed. Instead, he refocused his gaze outward. Suddenly, his eyes caught some movement in the distance. Even with the naked eye, it looked like someone was struggling. He grabbed the binoculars for a closer look.
The binoculars brought the scene into sharp focus; it was someone he was familiar with - Aden. However, what grabbed his attention wasn't just him, but the terrible condition he was in. He struggled to walk, staggering every step as if even a gust of wind could topple him. And the person he carried… There was virtually no movement, as if unconscious or dead.
"Jim, get down right now."
Whoosh!
The platform was positioned at the height of a story, but that didn't stop Bob from descending the ladder in seconds, his urgency clear.
Thump!
Jim jumped down the platform and landed neatly on the pile of sand kept below for some reason.
"You...! You... careless idiot!"
Jim's carelessness angered Bob, but now wasn't the time to reprimand him.
"Help me open the gate. Then, go and get Maria! Hurry!"
Usually, Jim was playful. However, the raw urgency in Bob's eyes cut through his usual attitude. So, he listened to his brother without argument.
They approached the gate with a clear goal in mind. Their first course of action was to heave the heavy wooden locking beam from its brackets across the gate. The beam and the swing gate reinforced with metal forced them to work together.
Creak! Creak! Creak!
With every push, the gate opened outwards.
"Push, Jim."
Usually, the gate took 35-40 seconds for a single person, but the duo's coordinated effort shortened the time by less than half.
"Go, go. Run to Maria."
With the gate just wide enough, Jim dashed inside toward the settlement core while Bob sprinted out toward the approaching figure.
***
Aden swayed, the harsh lines of the settlement blurring through the heat shimmer. His grip on the rifle felt loose, numb.
He saw it then – the heavy scrap-metal gate groaning open. A figure, purposeful, breaking free from the shimmering background, started moving towards him.
"Help…."
He could barely utter a word before darkness engulfed him.
His legs, already trembling ghosts, gave out completely. The last thing he felt was the metallic tang of dust in the air and the dead weight of Tom shifting against his back. Then, nothing.
***
Meanwhile, Bob pounded across the cracked earth, his lungs burning. Then, he saw Aden stumble and collapse just a few meters away. He was out cold, pale beneath the dirt.
A glance at the figure Aden carried revealed blood drenching the rough bandages on his shoulder and chest. A close inspection helped him identify the still form - it was Tom, just a couple of years younger than himself.
"Tom, can you hear me?" Bob yelled, leaning close.
"Tom, can you hear me?" He repeated the call, louder this time, but Tom remained unresponsive, prompting him to check for vitals. Fortunately, he found signs of breathing and a pulse at Tom's neck, however faint and thready.
"Stretcher!"
Bob roared back towards the open gate, his voice hoarse.
"And water! Get water out here!"