Outside of Towa
Know the phrase "Time heals all wounds"? Well, that's bull. It festers and bleeds until death. It could be ignored, but the scars will still be there, waiting for the perfect chance to grab you and drag you back to hell, kicking and screaming if necessary.
There came the image of ripped skies eating everything in their wake while she watched in silent horror as her adopted home disappeared before her eyes.
And then came the decision that brought Rachel to this point…
***
Four years ago.
Red tape. Rachel couldn't help but stare at the red tape.
She ignored the devastation, the screams, the crowds. All she could see was the red tape blocking her way home.
"I have to get back," she whispered.
Rachel felt a pressure, glancing up to see a grandmotherly-type woman looking at her with pity. "No one is going back. The Ripples have hit. If anyone survived, they would be shipped out of the city."
The delivery was almost cold, but it was the truth. No one exposed to the Ripples would frequent the Cities ever again. It was the most humane way to reduce the spread of the Vine Infection.
Personally, she thought that it was just a means to reduce the spread of fear and give a false sense of security.
That didn't matter anymore. Nothing mattered anymore.
They were gone, the people who cared about her. The family that had taken her in when she had no one. They were gone. With them, her dreams went up in smoke as well.
Not only that, as soon as the contamination was cleared, the City would rebuild, fix the containment bubble and move in families. Like it had never happened. Rachel didn't know what was worse. To be shipped out or to be forgotten.
Her eyes teared up.
She clenched her fist, trying to think, trying not to let her instincts take over and run towards the barrier.
That won't do. The Guard will catch me before I can reach the red tape.
No, need to think.
Think.
There must be a method. A means.
If they survived, I would find them.
***
Present Day.
At the time, Rachel Liu was only eighteen years old. Realizing that her dreams of becoming a teacher and getting away from her corrupted police family went up in smoke. All because the age of maturity was twenty-five.
She needed someone to be her guardian only the Spencer's, a distant relative of her mother's, would take her in. Living with them, Rachel had a chance to follow her dream. A chance she never had before.
And the Spencer family? Dr. Melanie Spencer and her two girls were very…um… quirky family, they also brought her a warmth that she never experienced before. She finally felt like she belonged.
They deserved better. Rachel's hands trembled.
After they disappeared, she had no choice but to return to her family, but this time she had a plan. She acted like a dutiful daughter. She would do everything they expected of her. Going to the police academy, placing the top of her class, meeting the 'right' people. Everything and she did, with a smile on her face.
After Rachel graduated, she joined the WMP, the only police unit that marshals the compounds. It was her only chance to locate the family that helped her so much. Even so, she was all too aware of how slim that chance might be.
Rachel sighed in resignation, but her hazel eyes hardened in determination. She couldn't forgive herself if she didn't even try. Especially, knowing It could have easily been her out there. On the compounds. Trying to survive. Left alone.
On her left was her, leaning against the hood, smoking, was her training officer, Sergeant Statson, a big bear of a man with salt and pepper hair. He had a dark cowboy hat and matching boots. They look ridiculous on any other person but him.
He was different. He spoke his mind to the point of insulting, and he didn't like to take any crap from anyone. Sergeant Statson was one of the few honest cops that Rachel had ever met. Though grumpy, he was a great teacher, his experience was awe aspiring. Rachel heard that he was a soldier in the Lumeye War, but she didn't want to pry. She just had to look in the mirror to see the same pain, the same guilt.
Even the simplest enquiries may result in sorrow. Rachel brushed against the aching pain that resided in her chest.
Rachel swiped her black hair away from her mixed Asian features. She pulled out an artificial nutrition bar that the Cities were so famous for, offering one to her trainer. When he declined, she began to munch on it while waiting for the bridge to open. Allowing them access to the Wastelands beyond.
Rachel looked up. There above the trees was the bubble highway connection Towa to other Cities. Their route was different had they to go the old fashion way. Across the bridge into the Wastelands. The roads were lined with a material that repels the Wastelands. Though Rachel would feel safer if they had armed guards or even someone with musical intelligence.
Neither was provided. Budget cuts sucked.
"I've been thinking." Sergeant Statson broke the silence.
"Sergeant?"
"We're not in the office, Girly. Statson will do," He corrected.
Please don't call me Girly. Rachel thought, but that all she could do. She already knew that arguing was a lost cause.
"This place." He waved his arm around. "It used to be battlefield not too long ago. Amazing how the Wasteland just wiped the slate clean. Like it never existed," His gaze was distant like he remembered something unpleasant. She wasn't the only one who was caught up in old memories.
"It's beautiful, though."
Statson chuckled. "Beautiful things are the most likely to bite you in the ass. Just ask my ex-wife."
"Which one?" Rachel joked a little. She heard that he had three.
"All of them."
Casually, he took out his gun and removed the magazine clip, checked the chamber, and then put everything back together again. He repeated the process with his spare.
"Sergeant? I mean, Statson." Rachel shook her head. Calling people by their titles was drilled in her head since she was a child. It was a hard habit to break.
"I have a bad feeling, Girly, and my gut never steers me wrong," he continued. "This whole operation is bigger than it appears, and I don't like going in unprepared."
"But Captain Remington said that the assignment was routine." Rachel had her own doubts, but she was just a newbie. Though the assignment wasn't sitting right with her either.
"I have to admit, Girly, that you are good, and you have the potential to be even better," he growled out. "But you need to learn that the Captain has his head permanently slammed up his ass and doesn't know anything unless it is hand-fed to him. Trust me on this one." He winked, a devilish gleam in his eyes. Oh, how Rachel hated that look. That 'this is going to be fun' look that always got her into trouble. "Better check your hardware while we have the time."
She, too, reached for her firearm strapped to her side. "And if you are wrong…"
He smiled, teeth gleaming, "Then call me paranoid," he paused. "Though I will tell you this. I don't see me making a good expression at that fancy party. Especially one being set up by an asshole Major."
Well, that was true enough. Statson was likely to offend anyone who wasn't used to him. "How do you know that Major Hatton is an asshole?"
"Believe me, Girly, all Majors are assholes. That's a fact-of-life."
The bridge finally opened. Rachel stretched and moved to the passenger side. "Let's just get this over with. Who knows, maybe nothing will happen?" She didn't believe it herself, but who knows?
"Piece of advice. Always think of worst-case scenarios. It will keep you alive longer." He climbed into the driver's seat and started the engine.
A falcon with silver wings circled once, and then twice. Before flying away.