Scorched Earth

By Lee Pletzers

"Scorched Earth" ignites the imagination, weaving a potent dystopian tapestry that deftly spans two tumultuous timelines. Within its pages, you'll find a gripping narrative that explores the intricate web of love, the ravages of war, the intensity of hate, and the unyielding tenacity of survival.

 

Heading home, IT specialist Craig Buffett, steps out of an elevator and into a forest thirty years in the future. He encounters a world foreign to him. Vast, devastated land reaches to the horizon, littered with broken glass and twisted metal. 

 

In this twisted landscape, genetically engineered creatures roam freely, sustaining themselves on the lifeblood of humanity. A youth elixir that lives up to its promise. And a cosmic rift under the dominion of a power-hungry, megalomaniacal military commander.

 

In a relentless pursuit to return home, Craig adapts to the unfamiliar realm, embracing his core purpose and innate humanity. Buried deep within, he summons the strength to rise and undertake the imperative mission of preventing this grim future from unfolding.

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Writersltd
• Release date: Sep 8, 2023
• ISBN: 9780958289375

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THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION. The events and characters described here are imaginary and are not intended to refer to specific places or living persons. This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the express written consent of the publisher.

Award-winning author, Lee Pletzers is a displaced New Zealand writer of the weird, wonderful, and grotesque.

Since 2001, he has impacted the genre world, under the pen name Richard Lee. Over seventy short stories have slammed his name on anthologies and magazines across the globe; for example; The Literary Hatchet, Calamities Press, Under the Bed, and Nebula Rift. His short story Water was the finalist in the Sir Julius Vogel Awards 2015 as was his horror fan site in 2010. Five novels affected humanity and two novellas were the icing on the cake. 

He is now making the move into crime thrillers. He reads a lot of them and figures he might know a thing or two. His entrance into this genre starts with the Death World duology.

Twitter: http://twitter.com/threeand10

Website: http://www.thriller.nz

Insta: https://instagram.com/Threeand10

CHAPTER ONE

Present Day

A kick to the solar plexus dropped Craig to the floor. The crowd cheered. A red flag snapped into the air.

Craig sucked in deep breaths of air. He got to his knees. It took a minute, but he got to his feet. The crowd applauded his loss. He should have seen the kick coming. How had he missed it? He adjusted his Gi and reset his black belt. He bowed to his opponent and the judges.

After handshakes all around, Craig wandered to the showers. He wasn't sweating but didn't feel like going back to his empty apartment just yet. He enjoyed the quiet but liked to be around people most of the time. Although most of his friends had married or moved away, he liked to be in groups of people.

After towelling off, he entered the gymnasium and joined the audience in watching, Jacob, his opponent win his way to a first-place trophy. Craig applauded while remembering it used to be him winning the awards. Old School karate, Paintball champion six years in a row (with his team), Craig liked high-risk entertainment, but he was aging. No way to stop that. He hadn't been to a paintball range since Leon got married and stopped going. Their friendship had changed over time, especially when his best friend became a father.

People started walking past him, and a few crossed his path, which broke him free of his thoughts. He stood up and filed out with them. Only he carried a sports bag. In the parking lot, he saw most of the fighters still wore their Gi but the belt was off.

Craig waved to a few of the guys, but they didn't wave back.

Having no car, Craig walked everywhere. Usually, it didn't bother him, but the thought of walking from one end of the town to the other didn't appeal today, especially with some of the hits he took. He rubbed his chin. An illegal knee to the chin won him the match against a guy whose defences were excellent.

He passed a game store selling all formats: board games, PS (all versions), X-box, handheld DS, and others. He suddenly remembered a Game Boy Colour he had way back in the day. It had belonged to his uncle and, when Craig was pre-teen, he used to borrow it. Over time it became his. In 2001, Resident Evil Gaiden was released. Zombies. He could shoot zombies all day and not feel bad because they were all dead. All kids love zombies. These weren't cute zombies, and he hadn't yet seen the movie. Leon had a pirated copy, and Craig's family had the big screen TV with a new DVD player with 550 lines of resolution. Crystal clear viewing. They just had to wait for his parents to go out for the evening and the fun would begin. His folks believed that TV influenced kids' psyche and they didn't want him to turn into a mass murderer.

The Game Boy Colour had lost its hold on him quickly, and an interest in guns had him join a junior contest range. Turns out, he was a pretty good shot. Not perfect but better than others. He had just won his first contest, and his mother monitored everything he watched or read, more worried than ever about her boy's mental state. Strangely, she never considered the games on Game Boy. Weird. Good for him though.

Making a cup of coffee, Craig sat down on the sofa wondering what to do. Thinking about the Game Boy brought back some nostalgia. He would play for memories if he knew where it was. Many things get lost over time. He took a sip of his coffee and turned on the television. News, News, Soap. Getting to his feet, he grabbed The Highlander DVD, remastered, director's cut edition, and slipped it into the machine. He squatted in front of the sword. In a terrible Scottish accent, he said, I am Connor MacLeod of the clan MacLeod. He didn't finish the sentence. Like Back to the Future, Craig knew all the lines to The Highlander. He had all the films, including The Source. He had a YouTube link for the TV series. The series had its good points and was entertaining, but nothing could beat the original 1986 movie.

THE ALARM CLOCK READ: 6:00. Craig switched off the alarm before it sounded at 6:01. He got up, stretched, and in his pyjamas, he shuffled outside to get the morning newspaper. He checked the date: Saturday. Good. He opened the front door and dropped the newspaper on the floor with the rest of the pile. He might read them one day.

He switched on the SimTek 10K television for background noise. Craig wondered if his life needed spicing up. Karate kept him happy, but he wanted to hit the paintball field again. But he wasn’t good at going alone and making new friends. Deep down he was shy, and recently, a lone wolf. He was content. Content, but unfulfilled.

He stared at the coffee maker a few moments before turning it on. It was Saturday, and he had agreed to work. A half day with a full day pay. It was acceptable on occasion, but now he had said ‘yes’, he would get asked more often. That sucked.

Working in the dreaded cubicle, dealing with Internet troubles bored him. It was nine hours of wasted time. He had one occasional hobby and little direction in life. This was him. He had come to accept it.

He took a seat at the living room table and looked over the counter at his kitchen. A white painted swing door led into the kitchen.

His sofa had seen better days, but it would last a few more years. Single guys didn’t need to update furniture. On the wall behind, were the six awards he was most proud to display. These were .303 crack-shot certificates he won in his late teens. After the sixth win, he lost interest and computers took a stronger hold on his free time.

In a glass cabinet are two replica swords used in the Highlander films. The logo etched into a plaque on the base. The Katana and the Clan Sword stood side by side. He hadn’t touched them for a while. Last week he polished the glass. The new window spray did a good job, and it looked like there wasn’t any glass at all. A week later it was still clean. 

Dressed in khaki pants and a button-down business shirt, Craig headed out the door. He left with a paper cup of coffee in one hand, last night’s movie in the other, and his MacBook Air in a shoulder bag. He checked his SimTek watch. He was right on- time.

The alarm icon flashed. Craig checked his iPhone. The alarm seemed fine. He suspected his watch had a syncing error. He decided to deal with that later, maybe after work, if he remembered. He pressed the alarm icon and left it alone. 

By the time Craig reached the DVD store, the cup was empty and crushed. He dropped it in a bin and deposited the disk into the return slot. Both times, he looked, and not once did he slow down. It was routine. His body knew the movements.

He stopped outside his office building, thirty minutes early as per routine. The mirrored glass was black. Other buildings across the road blocked the morning sun. This afternoon, the windows would gleam.

Craig sighed.

He was in a rut and knew it.

His mind went back to the skydiving lessons. If he trained, it wouldn’t be that dangerous. If he packed the parachute himself, he would feel safer. There were a lot of ‘ifs’. He had no time to consider possibilities now. Work called. He made his way into the elevator bay and pressed the ‘UP’ button.

Hey, Craig.

He spun around, surprised at the familiar voice and shocked to hear it on a Saturday. Hi, Leon.

Looking for some overtime, huh?

Craig nodded. They asked, and I said yes.

The elevator doors opened. They entered at the same time. Hey, Leon said.

What?

We haven’t been out for a drink in a while.

Almost two years, Craig added.

Time flies, huh? He slapped Craig on the shoulder. You’ll understand that when your turn comes.

Craig watched the elevator numbers climb.

Speaking of which, are you seeing anyone?

You asking me out?

Leon laughed.

You could do worse.

Shut up. He pulled out his phone. This is Susan’s friend. Jenna. Blond hair, blue eyes, and clear golden skin. She’s a bit of a surfer.

Surfing, Craig thought. Now there’s an idea.

He imagined himself parachuting with a surfboard attached to his feet. The wind rushing past him, the sun high in the sky, and the smell of the ocean filling his lungs. He would cut the parachute and hit a wave to ride all the way to shore where Jenna was cheering him on.

Earth to Craig? Leon said, breaking into his thoughts. Interested?

I’ve never surfed.

The elevator pinged open, and both exited. What are you doing next Saturday?

God willing, not working.

Leon smiled. I’ll see to that. How about we meet at the beach?

Craig wasn’t sure.

Leon must have read the indecision on his face. Don’t worry about it. What’s the worst that could happen? You have a nice day at the beach and body surf a few waves.

Craig shrugged. Alright. It was doubtful he could ever talk to such a beauty as Leon had shown him, but what the hell, he could give it a shot. They separated there, heading in opposite directions.

Taking a seat at his desk, he switched on the computer. His hands twitched. It felt like someone pounded glass into his nerves. He told himself to calm down and took several deep breaths.

His hands were transparent!

What the...?

He turned to the small mirror near his computer and checked his reflection. His face faded. His brown hair faded. The skin became more and more translucent each second.

He wanted to scream but couldn’t find his voice.

His breath came in rapid bursts.

His heart pounded against his chest, trying to break free.

He watched himself becoming a ghost.

Are you alright, Craig?

He spun around at the voice. Lucy, who dwelled in the cubical next to him, leant over the partition. A glance at his hands showed them returned to flesh once more.  His face and hair were back to normal. His breathing slowed down.

I thought I saw a ghost.

She pulled a face. Don’t tell me that.

He forgot. Lucy believed in ghosts. She was certain any entity that returned was hell-bent on destruction. Sorry, he said. I’m kidding around.

But you’re okay?

She sounded concerned. How could Craig explain what had happened? Thinking about it now sounded nuts. It was as if he were fading out of existence, never seen again, or missed. Not even by Leon who he had seldom spoken with for the past two years. They had tried at first, but Craig couldn’t relate. All the tales were about being a father and baby development. He had no idea about any of that stuff. In time, his friend had drifted over to talk with other fathers and some mothers as well.

All’s good, Lucy. Thanks.

She stared at him a minute longer, smiled, and disappeared behind her partition. Craig checked his hands. They looked solid enough, but the incident had freaked him out. A lack of sleep had caused him to imagine the ghostlike appendages. That was the only real possibility. People didn’t vanish like that. He wasn’t living in a Rob Sterling mystery.

Trying to put it behind him, Craig logged onto the system, put his headset on and got ready to answer the first call.

CHAPTER TWO

Havelock Grove

2056

A large brick and mortar wall separated the town from the outside world. Moss grew in the cracks and the grass below was brown and dead.  Stationed above the wall, armed guards ran a tight ship. Everyone in the town of adult age and able to handle a weapon took their turn on the wall. It was law. They worked in short shifts and never continued the same changeover routine more than a few days.

At the west side of the wall, another section was under construction. The town and townsfolk kept expanding. In another year or two, they would need to look at building new lodgings, but first on the list was the wall extension.

Outside the walls on the North side were two acres of vegetables and tilled land, ready for seeding. This was well fenced to stave off critters, though on most mornings some vegetables had been dug out. No one had come up with a solution yet, so it was as it was.

To the East, a vast forest of dead trees stood against the horizon. A reminder of the past and the damage radiation caused. It was a no-go zone for all bar Muskers. No population left the safety of the wall. 

Lining the centre of Main Street and most side streets were fruit trees. Everyone had duties, and food and housing were free. It was a system that worked. Common law was in force. If anyone broke it, the penalty was harsh.

Inside, a converted school served as the barracks for the Muskers — soldiers that went into the field. It was up to Muskers to find new pockets of survivors with valuable skills. They were well trained and to be a Musker could one day mean giving your life for the town. The Musker’s law was simple: no marriage, no pairings, no love, except for the good of the population.

Caden Creighton, the town leader, built this place of safety fifteen years ago. Back then sixty people followed his lead. Over time, he had managed to increase the population to one thousand seven hundred. There were plans to expand and build.

The first fifteen years after the bombs were the hardest, and it turned an ex-oil worker into a leader. He had no idea why people followed him. He made many mistakes, but all trusted his judgment. And in the end, he had brought them here to safety.

Life had been hard on him, and everyone inside and outside these walls.

At sixty years of age, he had the resilience (or physique) of a built forty-year-old. But his eyes had crow’s feet. And his mouth harboured frown lines. A long scar ran from his right cheek to the base of his neck. There were other scars and burn marks on his body, as there were for many people. Everyone had suffered. Rogue gangs ran rampant for the first few years. They killed themselves off. Five years after the bombs, the Unspeakables arrived. It was the main reason this town was so well protected.

Standing on the wall, rifle cradled in his arms, Caden walked the wall doing his vigil. If everyone else had to do it, he would as well. He knew the population liked to see him on the wall he helped build. He was well respected for more than walking the wall and creating a place of safety.

Passing the midpoint of the wall, he saw Hoyt Ellery climbing up a ladder. The man had saved his life more than once in the thirty years they had been friends. Ex-Military, he had taught everyone how to use guns and make bullets. He also taught archery and hand to hand combat back in the day. Age caught up with him, and Caden found a replacement. His lessons were still taught and practised.

Ching Li added kickboxing to the hand to hand program. And the Muskers came to be. Trial and error established the rules they had to live by. Danger was real, but fear was a choice. Concern for their partners might interfere with the decisions each Musker made. That was a risk, in this brave new world, that Caden couldn’t take.

Hoyt reached the top of the ladder and stood next to Caden. Apart from a grey beard, the man still looked like a stocky army recruit. They were the same age, but there weren’t any lines on Hoyt...yet. He was battle-scarred like most of the population. And he was one of the few people to survive a group Unspeakable attack.

All quiet as usual?

Yep, Hoyt replied. Electro came to see me.

Caden frowned. He still going on about parts?

He makes a valid point. The self-generating grid is fifteen years old. It needs some new parts to keep the power on and the population happy.

I don’t want to send Muskers into the city. Unspeakables rule that region.

Hoyt nodded. Still, we will need to do something soon.

Agreed.

They started walking the other way. After a few minutes, Caden stopped. He looked down on the training grounds outside the barracks. How are the new recruits coming along?

The count’s down on previous years. Only seventeen for this intake.

Caden nodded. Population’s starting to feel a little too secure. It reminds me of the time before the Two Towers.

What are you thinking?

I’m thinking I don’t want the population to return to that state. It’s what started the end.

They looked down at the training ground. A fresh group of trainees watched a fit young lady swing her sword in expert moves against a man of similar age.

I think Selene’s gonna take over from Ching Li next year. She’s only twenty-three, but everyone thinks she’s ready, Hoyt said.

They watched her disarm her opponent, who dived and rolled to the side. She was upon him in an instant, her sword pressed hard against his throat. The man raised his hands in surrender, and she stepped back.

Apart from that one error, she’s the perfect Musker. And the class she’s holding is rapt with her lesson. Caden rubbed his chin in thought.

That error was six years ago. Since then, she’s been perfect.

Caden laughed. If she weren’t your daughter, she would have been out the gates. Clapping his friend on the shoulder, he said, Are we changing over?

Yes.

Caden left without another word as Hoyt stared down at Selene, his adopted daughter. He remembered the day he found her, covered in filth and crying, sitting crossed legged next to a dead woman.

Unspeakables had ravaged the town. It was unusual for them to harm children. Humans were the food supply, and no one ended their food supply if they could help it. Sometimes they looked so starved they couldn’t control base needs.

Standing on the wall, he looked around at the peace and quiet of a thriving township. To this day it was hard to remember how they managed such a feat. After the bombs, hell reigned on Earth. There was no government, no help, no police. It was each man for himself. You could trust no one. Until he ran into Caden six months after the bombs, and Selene five years after that.

He remembered as if it were yesterday. Dust puffed around their shoes as they walked the quiet streets of Sunnyside. A small suburb with a large shopping mall. Starting with Caden and Hoyt, the group had expanded over time to sixty people. All races, all ages. Anyone who could walk and participate was welcome to join them. 

Yet with the expanding group, supplies were low, and everyone needed a new pair of hiking boots. Shopping malls had that stuff. But the last sixteen were well raided. Almost nothing was on the shelves anymore. They moved further away from cities and large townships to smaller communities. And in Sunnyside, they struck gold. Apart from dust and grime, the mall remained untouched.

The supermarket in the basement level proved to be well stocked. In the loading bay were three trucks parked with rear doors open. Packed from floor to ceiling was foodstuffs. Hoyt wondered why there was so much. Supermarkets and Malls were prime locations for looters. Did this stuff belong to another group, people they didn’t want to mess with? They did find it unprotected.

We should make camp around here, Caden said. There was too much food to carry, and with careful rationing, this find could last them through the winter.

Hoyt opened a map. There’s Sunnynook about a click West of here. It’s a gated community and surrounded by fields. It might be easier to secure than Sunnyside.

Caden nodded. Alright. We need six people to guard this place before we start to move out. Hoyt and I will check Sunnynook. The rest of you will go door to door collecting whatever you can carry.

But we have all this, a lady in the back said.

Caden looked at her, she reminded him of an old school teacher. With grey hair tied in a bun, she wore small glasses and a frown. She looked to be in her sixties. Ma’am, what is your name?

Marsha Timms.

Nice to meet you, Marsha. In answer to your question, this mall is a glowing exclamation point. Others will be here soon. Some may be watching us now. He looked at everyone gathered. We haven’t seen Unspeakables for three days, but that’s not saying much. I don’t need to say what would happen if they found us in one building.

Everyone was quiet. They broke off into groups. Those with weapons set up a patrol and posted a guard at each entrance. Other groups divided the town into sections and started their search and gather routines. They proceeded with little more than baseball bats.

Hoyt, on the other hand, carried an M-16 hung across his shoulders. On his belt were three clips, a tactical knife with a compass and a Glock 21. He had carried these weapons for years, before the bombs and after. Parting with them would be like taking off his hand. They were a part of him. A part of who he was. He hoped to find more practical weapons for the rest of the group.

They made their way to Sunnynook. It was a small population area. Walking the main street, the town seemed as dead and empty as the next. They entered shops and stores, small local places, and discount clothing shops. There was a small butcher and a supermarket on opposite corners. The shopping district ended here. Houses lined side streets. Most of these homes had seen better times.

The crooked picket fences hinted at better, happier days. The houses ended at a crossroad. Open fields stretched out after that. Only five hundred families lived here, and a quarter of them was on farms they had yet to investigate.

The first house they entered off Main Street had walls covered in blood.  Immediately they were on guard. A closer inspection revealed the blood wasn’t fresh. It had dried into a rusted brown colour. The copper smell remained strong in the air. An almost physical presence they could reach out and touch. It was a scent that Hoyt never grew accustomed to. It put him on edge and kept his senses sharp. He shook the feeling of death from his shoulders and pushed forward to the living room. Hoyt covered his nose. He noticed Caden follow suit. They saw the remains of the previous resident. Torn to shreds, the blood drained, sucked from shredded appendages.

They exited without investigating further. On the porch, Caden took a marker and scrawled a large X on the door. No one would enter this house. In an hour, many houses had an X on the front door. So far only fifty were useful after a slight clean up.

Several houses later they heard a sound. A soft whimpering cry. The two men looked at each other. The Unspeakables hissed or growled, they had yet to hear one whimper. Hoyt had his M-16 at the ready, Caden pulled a Ruger Redhawk 5.5 from the band of his trousers.

Hoyt went first, pushing the front door opening and tiptoeing in.

Mummy, wake up.

A girl’s voice.

To the left was an archway leading into the living room and kitchen. It was a typical design amongst most residents, so they knew the layout of this house.

Mummy, please. I promise to be good.

Hoyt leant against the wall. He motioned to the stairs leading to the second floor. Caden crept up to them as Hoyt leaned around the arch. He saw a young girl, maybe three years old, sitting crossed legged on the floor in front of a woman with bluish skin. He entered the living room as quiet as possible. The corpse was face down. From his perspective, she didn’t look drained of blood.

He backed up and knocked on the wall.

The girl spun around and screamed. He placed the M-16 on the floor and raised his arms. Hey, he said. I’m not going to hurt you.

She stared at him wide-eyed for a moment, Mummy not wake up.

What happened?

Mummy fall down.

Now he saw it. The corner of the coffee table had a thickening pool of blood on it. Oh sweetie, I’m sorry. Mummy won’t ever wake up.

The girl started crying.

When did Mummy fall over?

Three sleeps ago.

Caden entered the living room. All clear up there. He saw the girl collapsed on the floor crying.

Honey, have you eaten?

She shook her head.

Not for three days?

Not today. She pointed to the fridge. I finished the juice last night.

Hoyt opened the fridge. The shelves inside were bare except for a jar of jam. How old are you? he asked.

She held up three fingers, then two and back to three again.

Let’s get you something to eat and drink. Okay?

The girl nodded.

What’s your name?

Selene. She then spelt it for him. And added: My phone number is 555-8843-3406. After that, she told them her address.

Wow. Glad you remember that.

Mummy told me. She looked pleased with herself. I learn fast, Mummy say.

Hoyt nodded. Alright then, Selene, what do you want to eat?

She shrugged.

Checking the cupboards, he found a box of cornflakes and a can of peaches in syrup. He upended the contents onto the flakes and gave it to her.

She finished it in minutes. I like milk more.

Me too. If I find a cow we can get some milk.

What’s your name?

I’m Hoyt, and this is Caden. We have a big family and would like you to come with us.

They took them, she said, her eyes now trained on the floor.

Who took what?

Her bottom lip trembled.

It’s okay. You can tell us. We’re the good guys.

She seemed to consider it. Really?

Yes.

She looked at them both. The monsters took all kids.

Caden and Hoyt exchanged a look.

They took the children?

She looked at Caden and nodded.

Why not you? he asked.

I hide like Mummy showed me.

Where?

She pointed to the fridge. It jutted out from the wall with just enough space for a three-year-old to wriggle between. Hoyt pushed out the fridge and saw a hole cut deep into the wall. Your Mummy was smart.

When did the monsters come? Caden asked.

Two sleeps after Mummy fall down.

Two days ago, Hoyt said.

They are long gone, now. Why would they take the kids? It wasn’t a question he was expecting an answer to. Nor did he get one. The girl shrugged, and Caden joined her. No one knew much about the Unspeakables yet. They were new on the scene. Hoyt knew they could die. He had killed four in an ambush.  He heard them growling. It was their weak point. They growled before they attacked. And they drank blood and sometimes chewed meat.

No one knew where they had come from, but there were many rumours, especially in their group of sixty. Now sixty-one. If you were of religious faith, they were demons who climbed out of Hell from the cracks after the bombs fell. Or, a scientific experiment gone wrong. Rumours were just that; rumours. No facts. People searched for reasons why the world was now dangerous and foreign to them.

It wasn’t the future Hoyt thought he would witness.

Selene tugged on his arm.

Yes?

Can I meet your family?

He smiled. Of course.

Let Selene pack! She ran upstairs.

Looks like you have a new friend, Caden said.

Hoyt looked down at the dead woman in the living room. Three days with the dead, he said, slinging the M-16 back over his shoulders.

Caden said, I’m sure one of the women will take care of her.

Hoyt nodded.

Selene ran down the stairs with a tiny backpack. She grabbed Hoyt’s hand. Ready, she said.

Looks like she’s chosen you, Caden said with a smile.

They stayed in Sunnynook for three years. Selene never left his side. Forced to move due to a lack of reusable resources, they discovered Havelock Grove. Two years later, they realised they had discovered home. Now they watched for the Unspeakables.

I’ll take over from here.

Hoyt looked up, he was on the wall, unaware he had been daydreaming. Reliving the past. He looked down at Selene, now a grown woman. She was heading back to the barracks.

Thanks, David.

He left David to take over the watch. Hoyt would be back on the wall again tonight. He liked being on the wall, it took his mind off a past life before the bombs, before Caden, and before Selene. A past he was happy not to dwell on.

SELENE DISARMED MATT. She knew it wouldn’t take long, he got frustrated quickly, it was his weakness when sparring. He was excellent in a fight against the Unspeakables. But he hadn’t beaten her since they began training fifteen years ago.

The instant his sword hit the ground, he dived to the left and came up in a fighting stance. She had predicted this and had her sword against his throat the moment he came out of the roll.

His hands shot up in surrender. Give, he said, his eyes locked on hers.

When Selene lowered her sword, Matt started to walk off. Hey, she called out. He stopped and turned around. You forgot something. She walked over to his sword and using the blade of hers, she flicked his through the air. Matt caught it deftly. Turning to the group of new trainees, she asked, What was his mistake?

There were several murmured answers from the group, and they were all close enough to be correct. Cheryl had just turned thirteen but looked older. Like most children of survivors. She said, He sparred with you.

A few laughed. Jaxon stepped forward. Also, thirteen and with an untamed mop of dark brown hair. He said, He got frustrated.

Selene smiled. Exactly. She looked at the group of kids before her. All were between ten and fifteen. Usually, the under thirteen group trained in unarmed combat or Filipino stick fighting. It got them ready for intense sword and weapons training. They would train until seventeen before making a choice. Become a Musker or population.

She hopped Jaxon would choose population. The boy was not a great fighter, that was true. On the plus side, his natural understanding of construction and engineering amazed her.

To be honest, it shocked her to see him here. The teachers usually mentioned world-building skills, which kept them in classes. Not out here in the hot sun for advanced training.

All children learned hunting and survival skills as part of their daily lessons. Then fighting abilities from the age of ten. In this world, the Unspeakables could attack at any time, and everyone had to be ready. Everyone had to fight. There were a few potential leaders in this group, but she wouldn’t make any decisions until next year.

That’s all for today, she said. The kids cheered, but she knew they would continue training. Some would head to archery or communications.

She stayed where she was until the trainees dispersed before heading to her room in