August, 2115
Glowing yellow eyes pierce deep into the core of my soul. Thin, cracked lips draw back into a vicious snarl, revealing a row of razor-sharp and rotted teeth. And in the creature’s grotesquely muscular arms, I see four limp bodies—bodies that belong to mine and Lavish’s parents.
I try to move. To scream. To reach for my pistol. But my body refuses to listen.
The Ruthless before me unhinges its jaw to mouth a single word: “You.”
I wake with a gasp, fingers clutching my chest. Beneath the fabric of my shirt, I can feel my own heart pounding away as if I’d just come back from running a marathon. Sweat binds my hair to the back of my neck.
It takes a full minute for me to regulate my breathing.
Admittedly, it’s been a pretty long time since I’ve had a nightmare that vivid about my parents’ kidnapping.
The nightmares were the worst the first months following their disappearance. Images of Ruthless teeth shredding my parents’ flesh to bits kept me from sleeping. It was so bad that often, I’d force myself to stay awake until I passed out from exhaustion. Lavish always stayed close by whenever I went too long without sleep, because he was afraid that I’d end up going unconscious in the wrong place and getting myself killed.
Those first few months were torture.
But slowly, I began to heal. And then I went one night where I didn’t dream of my parents at all. Then two. Then a week. Then a month.
Nine years later, and it’s seldom that I find myself staring down the nightmarish image of the Ruthless that destroyed my family. But if the terror I just woke up from is an indicator of anything, it’s that the mind never truly forgets—no matter how long it’s been.
Sighing, I roll out of bed and make my way to the washroom.
I shower quickly under cold water, and when I’m done, I head over to the washroom sink to shave. One of my biggest regrets is that I never asked my Dad how to shave when he was still around. I’ve cut myself more than a few dozen times trying to get close to the skin. Thankfully, my facial hair doesn’t grow in very quickly. I examine my face in the mirror after I’m done shaving. I’m twenty-two, but the bags under my eyes make me look much older. I’m also quite filled out now.
I leave the washroom and put on my standard daily outfit: my Dad’s old shirt and pants. We have some newer stuff to wear since the Bunkers were originally designed to hold way more than two families (good news for Lavish, since he’s so tall he’d never fit into his old man’s clothes), but I like the comfort of fitting into my Dad’s stuff. It makes me feel like somehow, he’s still protecting me—even if he’s gone.
A voice booms over the Bunker’s PA system. “ATTENTION, LAZY-ASS—THIS IS YOUR CO-CAPTAIN SPEAKING!”
“Christ, Lavish,” I roll my eyes as I jog down to the nearest two-way communicator. I put on the attached headphones and mic and switch the receiving line from the speakers to the headset. “You rung?” I ask, exasperated.
“Man, I thought you were going to sleep forever. It’s nearly ten!”
“We’re not all early birds like you,” I reply, yawning as if to prove my point. “Besides, I was up late last night.”
“I know, I know—you’re always up late making some crazy-ass atomic weapon or high-tech spy gear,” Lavish says. “Anyways, how do you feel about breakfast?”
My stomach rumbles. “Sounds good. Who’s Bunker?”
“Mine, obviously,” Lavish says.
We both know I’d burn cereal if I tried to cook it. Unfortunately, my mom’s great culinary skills did not get passed down to me.
“Sure. I’ll be there,” I say.
One thing that hasn’t changed in the past nine years is my friendship with Lavish. Without him, I honestly don’t know what I would do. We haven’t changed much since childhood—he’s still insane and I’m still pretty reserved. But we depend on each other more than ever now since we’re all that we’ve got.
It’s because of Lavish that I’m still standing today. It’s also because of Lavish that I can cling to the hope that my parents are still alive. He insists that the Ruthless that stole our parents didn’t kill them—rather, that it just took them and ran off. And since he never saw them die, there’s still a percentage of a chance that they’re out there somewhere, waiting for us to come save them.
The smell of eggs, toast, and coffee hit my nose full force as soon as I step into Lavish’s kitchen.
“Well, hey there, Sleeping Beauty,” Lavish greets me. “Ready for today?”
There’s a layer of tension in his otherwise cheerful voice. It’s because we both know what we’ve set out to do tonight, and even though we won’t admit it—we’re both scared as Hell.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” I say, taking a seat at the counter and grabbing a slice of toast. “Hey, Lavish, do you remember when our parents were taken?”
Lavish’s smile disappears. “Yeah. I remember.”
I chew thoughtfully. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot recently, and… why didn’t the Ruthless take us, too? It makes no sense.”
“What makes no sense is how the Ruthless went through the trouble of kidnapping our parents when it could’ve just torn them to shreds right then and there.”
“I guess so.”
“You think too much, man. Look, maybe the R-Zomb was carrying too much and wasn’t able to snatch two more bodies.”
I throw him a disapproving look. “I’m serious, man.”
Lavish sighs. “Look, Rekill, I wish I had the answers, but I don’t. All I know is that our parents might still be out there. And as the unlucky survivors, it’s our job to save them if we can. Now eat. I want to get a round of shooting in before we need to get down to business.”
I nod, taking another half-hearted bite of my toast. “Okay. You’re right.”
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