Page 1 of Rising

Amaia

Everything was just a theory before the bombs went off. That’s the thing about science. You can only prove so much without a doubt. Until chaos erupts.

I considered myself a woman of science once. Fact over fiction, or opinion any day. Guess they were right about how life can change in an instant. For thousands of years, humans placed ourselves at the top of the animal kingdom, thinking we were better than all species.

There was a show I’d watched years ago. One of the main characters had stated that the only difference between us and them was opposable thumbs and the ability to have complex language. For a long time, I internalized that.

Thought about it to the point it made my head hurt. He wasn’t wrong. If anyone cared to pay attention to the outcome of Chernobyl outside the cancer and outward appearance of the mutated animals, the ridiculous theory on the end of humanity wouldn’t have been a theory at all. They thought humanity would be brought to its knees.

Well, evil doesn’t die easy. Humanity is … resilient.

Turns out some of us are immune to radioactive bullshit. It’s literally in our DNA. The strong ones. The ones Darwin gushed about. The ones that would persevere, no matter the circumstances. The resilient. Some of us have a magic green thumb, some a knack for all things fire, others water. Others possess a scary amount of accuracy with anything that could be considered a weapon. I should know, I’m one of them.

Then there’re The Pansies. Though the words amused me, it wasn’t the official name. Some say “respect the dead” or whatever. I say to hell with it, they aren’t really dead.

Just something else.

Something that borderlines both humanity and beast. An impossibly perfect balance of light and dark. They still think, just not the same as us. They walk and run with impossible speed and grace. The fundamental difference is that they fucking reeked like the dead, and eat human flesh.

I was twenty-two when it all happened. Fresh out of university, working at some soul sucking company. It was miserable but paid the bills. As good as life could be for a young girl in the U S of A. The perfect fiancé, the ferocious pup, a core group of friends, nice car, well-funded parents. As a child I’d told myself there was no chance in hell I’d ever be one of those people that spent their whole life behind some stuffy desk. Perhaps I’d spoken the wrong thing into existence.

That was five years ago. A different lifetime. My biggest problem went from mustering the energy to cook for the fourth time that week after a tough workout class, to chasing some asshole out of our territory or clearing a field full of Pansies.

It helps clear my head, anyway. I’d always told Jax it’s good for people to see the General out in action. Leading from beside them, as one of them. Within them. But the truth was, it helps me get out all the pent-up aggression from living in such close quarters. Enclosed settlements had that effect on people. Big enough for everyone to have their own space, small enough for everyone to know each other and spread your business when there was nothing else to do. Despite it being thirty-thousand people deep.

More times than not, it felt akin to a prison. Like someone was just waiting for a spark to set everything ablaze into flame, then kick the dirt over it and move along, pretending nothing ever happened. Rumors ran rampant throughout The Compound all the time about settlements reforming, joining as one to take over with a military state of mind. Forming some sort of sick alliance with The Pansies.

“Amaia.”Urgh, one day.For twenty-four hours, I’d asked for a moment of respite. Told everyone to find a hobby outside of bothering me. “Maia. Maia, wake up. Seriously, what the hell, get up!” I breathed in once, soaking in the last few moments of the warm sun heating my russet skin.

“I’m not asleep. Get off me.” I shrugged one of my best friends off. God, she could be persistent.

She was usually the type to respect others’ privacy when asked, not wanting to encroach on any boundaries.This better be urgent. I opened my eyes to her pale, olive hued skin and dark brown hair.

“You’re drunk. God, unbelievable. I shoulda known. Moe was willing to bet she saw you take off with a bottle, but I didn’t want to believe her. Said it must be extra water, and you’d gone off on one of your hikes. You’re really something you—”

I rolled my eyes and cut her off before her loud voice could ring anymore, rattling my brain.

“I’m not drunk, Reina. I’m simply relaxing my mind, soaking up a moment of peace.” We’d spent weeks out securing our borders, the uptick of attacks concerning. I sat up and quickly scanning the old abandoned golf course, now littered with tall grass and patches of trees.

It nestled me between it and the cliff. Most people would never close their eyes in such a precarious situation. Pansies were quick and efficient when they went in for the kill. There’d been many times where someone excused the snapping of a branch as a deer, just to be wrong, and to only have a cliff as an escape route.

Yeah, I could see how that would make people uneasy, but I was just as lethal, just as efficient as they were. Even if I was half out of my mind thanks to the bottle of tequila now half empty at my side. Most apocalypse shows I saw insinuated a bottle of alcohol or drugs would run dry thanks to those trying to take themselves out of the equation. The writers clearly had no imagination.

If the world was going to shit, best believe man would find a way to continue their escapism.

My eyes narrowed as I took in the sadness on her face. Despite her job, she never let much break her even demeanor. She’d claimed it was to help keep her patients calm, but even as General, I wasn’t sure how she could be soon, all the time.

The position I held didn’t give me the luxury of feeling things. Caring, sure. Dedicated, always. But being emotional was never an option. Which meant I needed to shed the emotions somewhere and why I’d tried to make my peaceful day once a week a priority. Yet somehow, it always ended up ruined.

“Amaia, it’s Jax,” she huffed. “There’s been an accident.”

I sprang to my feet, taking off towards The Compound, not bothering to see if Reina could keep pace.

Amaia

The coastline was a blur. My feet trying their hardest to keep up with the pace my brain desperately wanted me to move at. Rocks shifted loudly at my rear, and I could only hope it was Reina doing her best to follow behind. I didn’t have time to cover my tracks carefully on the way back. If some opportunist were this close to the wall, they’d be right in earshot of The Pit, anyway.

After spending months out on the road without a watch or clock, I needed nothing more than the sun to tell time. If I wasn’t too far gone from my rounds earlier, it was near 3 p.m. The smaller kids would be receiving their Sunday classes, which usually came with a lot of high-pitched screams and a series of ouches.

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