After The Darkness Omnibus: Episodes 1 - 6

By SunHi Mistwalker

Even in a world of never-ending winters and permanent darkness, fourteen-year-old Nadia Comani has everything she could ever want: power, privilege, a loving family and most importantly warmth. But her family's refusal to compromise their values changes everything. Nadia is cast down from her pedestal of power onto the trash heap of the lower classes. No longer guaranteed a life of ease, Nadia faces a future of servitude. Branded as powerless and deviant, will Nadia muster the strength to save herself and what remains of her family?

This is the omnibus of episodes 1 - 6.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dark Tales Great Lives, LLC
• Release date: May 8, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310603730

SunHi Mistwalker

SunHi Mistwalker is an award-winning writer who has been writing professionally since the age of fourteen. Born and raised in Chicago, Mistwalker knows a lot about how corruption, poverty, political apathy, and societal dissolution impacts individuals and families.

Book preview

Calcane City - Living Unit #4355698

Jagged-edged whimpers ride upon the smoky white plumes of iced breath. Whimpers, like those of a tortured, scared puppy, quickly roll and tumble, earnestly pressing through blue, cracked, and peeling lips, releasing into the dark, frigid, compressed space. Immature, barely bulging muscles strain as frail hands tightly grip a faux brass doorknob long past its prime.

Goddess please, 14-year-old Nadia cries. A trail of icy tears form a highway of misery from her blue eyes to the hard cliff of her chin as she desperately holds the door closed.

Nadia’s labored cries and breaths are weighed down by the distant pitter-patter of bare feet slapping against the hardwood floors. They close in, pressing upon the pointed edges of the whimpers, stopping them. Silence. Blue eyes dart and shift, illuminated intermittently by sparse rays of light flowing from the solitary incandescent bulb hanging from a thin chain hooked to the ceiling just outside the compressed space of the closet.

Feet loudly, desperately race towards Nadia’s closet. The doorknob jerks violently. Someone is trying to enter her coffin-like safe house. Nadia grips the doorknob tighter, and with all of her strength she struggles to secure the door.

Open up! Please Nadia! A sad girlish squeal pleads from the other side of the door. But there’s no response, only Nadia’s heavy breathing penetrates the door’s tattered wooden frame. I know you’re in there! Open up! Desperate, tiny hands jerk at the door.

Nadia hesitates, but her tight grip on the battered brass doorknob doesn’t falter.

Mila? A ridiculous question because of course it’s her little sister, the high pitched sound of the girl’s eight-year-old voice unmistakable. Go away, Nadia finally says, her voice fearful and hesitant.

Mila’s tiny voice only becomes louder, more desperate, more persistent, Please! Please open the door!

Shhh! Nadia says. They’re going to hear you!

The teenager’s demands are only met with more shrill screams and yanks on the door. Nadia’s grip loosens and the once secured door opens, sending Mila stumbling backward and sprawling onto the floor. But she doesn’t remain on the floor for long; she quickly scrambles to her feet and bolts toward the closet, not allowing Nadia’s presence there to deter her. I can fit! Mila yells as she tries to squeeze into the space, jostling Nadia to the side.

Stop it! Nadia shoves the girl hard, sending her tumbling onto her back. Mila sits on the floor for a moment, nursing her scraped elbow and looking up at Nadia with mournful, angry eyes. This is your fault. You made them come after us! It’s your fault!

Mila’s accusations send Nadia into a sudden fit of rage. That’s a lie!

No it’s not! Mom told you…. Mila stops talking and focuses on trying not to cry.

Look… Nadia tries to sound soothing; but her voice only comes out as a scared whisper. You can’t fit in here…go into the other room and…and…uhm…lay under the bed, they won’t look there.

But there’s monsters under there, Mila’s eyes plead with her sister.

Then find somewhere else…we can’t both fit here. Anyway, they’re not looking for you, they want me. Nadia feels guilty even as she speaks the words; she knows that’s not exactly the full truth.

Mila presses her tiny hands together, Please… she begs.

There is a loud grinding noise. The lights flicker. Then there is darkness.

Calcane City - Ministry of Retrieval: The Fallen and Errant Special Division

It’s 8 p.m. and the cold wind whips against thick steel plates bolted across the fractured windows of what was once City Hall. Each floor of the four-story building is a maze of interconnected grey cubicles jutting from grime covered walls. The domed cathedral ceiling was once adorned with some renaissance style motif that no one remembers; but now it too is carefully covered with steel plates. Working in pairs, the employees sit back-to-back in their cubicles, filing out papers and rifling through color-coded binders as young boys push mail carts through the aisles and deliver various notes, letters, and bulky packages. The workers’ identical clothing and haircuts make them seem like one human interconnected machine. But there are no actual machines in this bleak workplace. Human beings are the energy source of choice.

In the midst of the human maze of sameness, Thomas Thumb, a 47-year-old nonconformist with long, stringy dark brown hair and a thick scraggily beard, smokes a cigar. His cubicle mate, 35-year-old Percy Bright, coughs hard and leafs through the dull, beige pages of a legal-sized folder. The pushcart boy makes his way to the Bright-Thumb working unit and hands Thomas a #10 envelope. Thomas takes it and begrudgingly waves the boy away. Ripping open the envelope, his nicotine stained fingers snatch out the letter. He skims the text. We got a lead, ya’ ready? He glances over his shoulder at Percy and then flips up his digital wristwatch, taking note of the time.

Percy smoothes back his thinning blond hair. His dull grey eyes roam to the small unframed drawing of a young woman with her arms wrapped around two girls. He closes his folder and sighs, Yeah, I’m ready. Percy comes to his feet and tugs at his uniform which is exactly like the clothing of all the other men in the division with the exception of Thomas. He heads out of the cubicle not waiting for his partner.

Thomas remains in his seat for a few moments, leaning his broad shoulders against the office chair, he watches Percy. You got what it takes, he says. You’re good. You should take a little pride in your work. He plants his black combat boots firmly on the concrete floor and lifts himself out of the chair. Ashes from his cigar drift onto the lapel of his black jean jacket.

Percy shudders. Could he tell? Was it obvious? He could jump to defend himself, launch into a diatribe about his loyalty to the elites and the society and his faith in the path that’s been laid; but that would be too obvious. A quick defense would make him seem guilty and being guilty could have grave consequences.

Percy remains silent for a long time as he walks towards the preparation zone, his partner not far behind. Percy figures that the distance between the cubicle and the preparation zone would give him time to come up with a good response; but not too much time as to make it apparent that he is lying.

Percy steps into the preparation zone and sits on the steel enforced wooden bench. He turns towards his partner and says, Who can measure up to the great hound dog? and he says it with enough genuine deference to make it seem sincere.

Thomas looks at the man for a long time as if trying to read him, he isn’t called hound dog for nothing. Finally he shrugs, Guess you’re right. Pride had always been his biggest flaw.

Flopping down on the bench and legs spread eagle, Thomas takes up most of the space. There is a box on each end of the bench — one for Percy and the other for Thomas. They dig into the boxes and begin pulling out items: waterproof rain pants, heavy black rubber boots, polar fleece underwear, silk socks, goggles, wool mittens, waterproof parkas and snow shoes. They quickly dress for the harsh elements. In their heavy duty attire they seem like space explorers ready to walk the moon.

Calcane City – The Dead Zone

Sitting atop their three-person snowmobile, Percy and Thomas drive through the dead zone. Buildings on each side loom tall, dark, cracked and falling down, only shadows of their former selves. Frozen bits of human flesh peek through mounds of white snow pushed to each side of the solitary road. Loud explosions can be heard in the distance of an otherwise quiet and dark city. To the uninformed, the shotgun sounds stand as evidence of war; but there is no war, only exploding trees stressed by the harsh temperatures which often fall well below -80 degrees Fahrenheit. The bowed and split bark of dying trees dot the urban landscape.

As Percy and Thomas continue down the road, the snowmobile’s headlights illuminate a fully intact building in the distance. As they get closer, Percy quiets the engine and once they arrive he brings the vehicle to a stop. They dismount. The snow is already up to their calves; but they manage to pull on their snow shoes, mount their weapons, and slowly make the one block trek to the entrance.

Calcane City – Residential Living Quarters

Thomas slides a plastic card into a slot on the wall and the door opens. The dim lobby lights frantically flicker, and a loud grinding noise rises and falls every few seconds. Percy unbuckles a heavy duty flashlight from his belt and shines it into the shadowy lobby as he and Thomas cross the threshold. The door closes behind them. They take off their head gear and snowshoes, carefully leaning them against the wall. Thomas points towards the dark stairwell, Four flights, he says. He pulls out his own flashlight and leads the ascent, his heavy, black boots thumping against the wooden steps.

The echo of the men’s movements races ahead of them, up the stairs and into the cold, dark living space where Mila and Nadia cower. Hearing the heavy steps, Mila slowly turns her head towards the door. Nadia follows Mila’s gaze, They’re coming… she whispers, barely squeezing out the words.

The marching sounds stop. Silence. There is a brief moment of nothing, no noise, no movement, as if it was all a bad dream, a mere figment of the girls’ imaginations. But then…..noise…..high pitched noise impales their eardrums. Their knees buckle, slamming hard into the wooden floor. Desperate hands unsuccessfully attempt to block the sharp blades of noise. The girls shriek in pain and terror, it is beginning.

The worn wooden door swings open, hard and fast, nearly coming unhinged. Thomas and Percy stand larger than life in the doorway, clad in their white snow gear, high-powered tasers drawn and at the ready. The noise stops. The girls whimper, but in relief that their taste with ‘it’ has stopped. They struggle to their feet, still terrified.

Mila cowers at the side of Nadia, a little whimper escaping. Please…, she pleads with the men.

Nadia protectively pushes Mila behind her own frail body. Back the fuck off! Nadia threatens the men, still fearing the device. Her head jerks about wildly as she searches for an escape.

Thomas grins wide at the sight of the girls, and he chuckles as he pulls off his dark glasses to get a better look at his capture. Nadia backs up, pushing Mila back with her. Percy stands frozen in the doorway, the disgust in his eyes hidden behind his dark shades. His stomach churns, the bile in his bowels threatening to rise and spew from his lips. He knew the captures were young; but as he sees them trembling before him all he can think about are his own little girls.

Please don’t kill us, Mila begins to plead as Nadia pushes her towards the false protection of the closet.

Thomas chuckles and pulls out a cigar, totally relaxed now. He strikes a match, lights the cigar and slowly presses it between his lips. After taking a long, hard drag he blows a grey cloud of smoke towards the retreating girls. Where you think you going? he says. He steps forward quickly, two steps at a time. He grabs Nadia’s long ponytail and yanks her to the ground as she desperately claws at his face. Mila screams and wraps her arms around the teen’s waist. But the struggle only draws more sinister chuckles. Feisty, Thomas says to Percy who stands unmoving in the doorway.

Don’t damage the capture, Percy says. But it sounds like a command. Would Percy dare give orders to the great hound dog? Thomas pauses for a moment, but only a moment. Damage? Fuck, I think the order said dead or alive. Ain’t that what it said? he taunts and then he grins at Percy’s squeamishness. Don’t tell me you soft on these brats?

Percy narrows his eyes, his disapproval hidden behind his dark shades, No, of course…not. Just want to get the job done and over with before the freeze, he says, justifying his hesitation. And in an effort to prove that he’s not soft, he wrenches Mila away from Nadia. He yanks her hard; but not too hard — just hard enough to make his point. Mila offers little resistance, but a floodgate of tears is let loose.

Don’t touch her! Nadia flails about as Thomas binds her wrists behind her back with zip ties. She strains to see her little sister’s face and fights her own urge to sob. Instead she screams. Would the neighbors come? Does anyone care about the horror she is facing? Unfortunately, she knows the answer is no, no one is willing to risk themselves for others. Finally able to bring Mila’s face into focus, Nadia’s heart breaks when she sees the girl’s sadness.

Shhh, Percy says to Mila in that calm, genuine sounding voice for which he was hired. What’s all the fuss about little princess? The manipulation isn’t obvious to the little girl; but it nevertheless makes Percy’s stomach churning intensify. He gently brushes her sweat soaked hair out of her face, There’s nothing to be afraid of. You’re safe here.

Thomas grins at Percy’s people management skills. It’s one of the reasons he keeps him as a partner despite his other shortcomings.

Bullshit! Nadia writhes on the ground.

Thomas smirks, You got a nasty little mouth for a level 5.

Mila’s hands tremble like those of an elderly woman as she sees her big sister helpless on the cold, wooden floors. Percy cups her chin in his gloved hand and redirects her face towards his own. What you looking for?

Mila glances at her sister again and her lips quiver.

She’s going to be okay. I won’t let anything happen to her. Percy lets go of her chin and grasps her trembling hands.

You promise? Mila asks.

I promise, Percy says with a smile he only uses in his work. He would never curse his own kids with that smile — never.

The man’s smile triggers something in the girl and a small but still fearful grin spreads across her lips. I’m going to see my mommy and daddy now? Mila asks hopefully.

Percy nods, Mmhmm…and then we’re going to have marshmallows and hot chocolate just like how you always liked.

Mila’s brown eyes widen with surprise, How you know I like marshmallows and hot chocolate?!

Cause friends know everything about each other, isn’t that right? Percy chuckles. You’re mama told me to come get you because Nadia‘s being a bad girl, he nods as if to reinforce the thought.

Oh my goddess! Nadia yelps.

Thomas snarls at the teen, You want me to make your mouth so you can’t ever open it again?

Mila frowns at Nadia and then quickly looks back at Percy, I knew. It was all her fault, she says.

Oh yes, it’s all Nadia’s fault and she’s going to be punished too, more nodding.

Yay! Little Mila throws herself at Percy, jumping into his arms as if he is an old lost uncle.

Good girl! he says to her, bundling the girl in his arms as if she is his own child. The gesture deepens his disgust with himself. We’re going to go for a little ride, okay? You’re going to take a little nap too, while we travel.

Mila nods in compliance, I like naps, she smiles as Percy balances her on his hip and fills a syringe with clear liquid. She is use to shots; they are part of the program.

Only a little pinch, Percy gives Mila the injection and within moments she is out cold.

Thomas also knocks Nadia out cold…with his fist, Save the medicine for myself, he says.

Calcane City – Industrial District – Warehouse #236

Blankets of white snow spit out from the caterpillar tracks of the snowmobile as it zips past rotten trees and frozen corpses. The guttural buzz of its engine is the sole sign of life in a city devoid of all vitality. The decaying city’s urban landscape seems to grow larger as the vehicle approaches a dingy, abandoned warehouse, its windows sealed shut with thick slabs of steel. Thomas, seated at the helm, brings the vehicle to a complete stop. Percy, seated right behind him, tenses, resting his hand on Nadia’s back as she lies unconscious across his lap. All of them, including Mila who is fast asleep in the side carriage, wear thick snow gear and masks to protect them from the elements.

Why are we stopping here? Percy demands.

You calling the shots now? Thomas challenges him.

Percy doesn’t respond. How do you respond to that, to the loud, the arrogant but praised hound dog?

Thomas dismounts the snowmobile giving a cursory glance to the side carriage which holds Mila. He turns and immediately walks to the warehouse doors which loom tall, 20 feet in length, from the snow covered ground to the solid frame of the doorway. He unlocks and removes the thick chain which holds the doors shut.

It’s forbidden, Percy pipes up again.

Thomas laughs, You’re like one of those pesky parrots. He opens the large warehouse doors, pushing them just wide enough to fit the snowmobile. He motions for Percy to enter, Rev her up and don’t take all day. Thomas steps into the warehouse, confident that Percy will follow his instructions, which he does.

As Percy drives the vehicle into the warehouse, there is a loud sound as part of the floor inclines becoming a ramp leading to a basement.

We got a few seconds, hurry it up, Thomas as he quickly jumps on the passenger seat behind Percy. Drive! he barks. Percy drives down the ramp. Just as soon as they have entered the basement, the ramp begins to lift like a drawbridge, once again becoming part of the basement’s ceiling.

The subterranean room is dark at first but is soon filled with white light so intense it momentarily blinds the men. But after a few moments their eyes adjust revealing two men and a woman standing just