"So, what do we do? Dad's probably gone, and Mom's overseas," Brynn exasperated from the passenger's seat. She had her eyes trained on the trees outside the window of the huge truck. The radio played static no matter what station Tristan tried to change it to. After a couple of seconds from looking out the window, Brynn finally looked back at her brother. He was aggressively switching between radio frequencies and swearing to himself, his eyebrows were furrowed. "Tristan?"
He finally broke and slammed his fist against the radio, which turned it off in the process. Tristan ran his hand through his messy hair with his chest beginning to rise and fall rapidly.
"Tristan? Hey, it's okay." Brynn tried to reassure her brother, and herself as well. He glanced over at her, his eyes beginning to gloss over. Brynn gasped when Tristan suddenly pulled the truck to the side of the road aggressively and put it in park. He stormed out of the car with Brynn climbing out soon after.
They had been driving for a day, mostly speeding, and it was dark now. They were in Medford, not too far from Boston. The night wind blew warm against their skin and messily through their hair.
"Everyone's gone?" Tristan whispered to himself while stopping in the middle of the road. Brynn had enough.
"Tristan!" She hollered at him, slamming the truck door. He turned to her with panic in his face and a hand in his hair. "Don't do this."
"Brynn, what do we do?" He spoke with a monotone voice but had worry in his features. Brynn shrugged. "It looks completely deserted here. Where would everyone go?"
"I don't – There was only one bomb, so they would all go away from it. I say we keep driving straight until we see people... Living people." This was the best idea Brynn could come up with. She felt just as hopeless as her brother. Their father was about seven hours away and their mother was most likely dead. The people in this city seemed to have deserted their tasks, got up and left.
They both soundlessly got back in the truck with a nod from Tristan. Brynn got in the driver's seat this time and put her hair back with the hair tie around her wrist. Her .22 pistol still warm against her waist, her hand grasped the gear shift.
"Wait." Tristan whispered, grabbing the gearshift from her and putting it back into park. He yanked the keys out with his eyes off in the distance. Brynn immediately caught on and followed his gaze to where he was looking. A burnt-out fire with a perfect triangle of wood. Why are there random people here when everyone else was gone?
They both got out soundlessly, but Brynn crawled out the window to avoid shutting the loud door. The siblings shared a knowingly worried look, yet both of them are equally curious yet cautionary of strangers. What kind of insane person would stay so close to a bombed area when they could run the other direction? Tristan reached in the vehicle and grabbed his SMG, as if sensing something was wrong. Brynn doubled back around the truck, motioning Tristan to go check it out. Her dog tags rattled against her chest and she couldn't help but to grab them for a second before tucking the metal back into her shirt. The metal gave her comfort in the warm night. Her brother's hair blew slightly in the wind and blew his shirt against his skin. He went to the nearest building and slowly slunk beside it, stepping quickly.
Tristan slithered like a snake with legs, soundless and graceful. He was the night's gentle breeze, or the radiation on the air sneaking into their lungs. He approached the area across the street where the fire had been. The burnt sticks were small and close to a brick building with a door locked shut. As Tristan got closer to the fire, he motioned to a green blanket on the ground. Someone had been here, and Tristan was unsure of where they are now. He got goosebumps while sweeping his eyes around the area. No one seemed to be close. He relaxed his shoulders and lowered his gun slowly.
He raised his gun in his hand to signal it was safe to Brynn back at the truck. Tristan was about to call back to tell her there was nothing to worry about when he felt himself being pulled back.
An arm went around his torso and a sharp knife was put against his throat. He nearly fell but the perpetrator held him up with a strong build.
"Don't move!" The hooded stranger yelled across the street, already seeing Brynn get out from behind the truck. "Don't move!" The stranger's voice cracked, which gave away his nervousness.
Brynn's lip twitched up into a snarl, feeling offended that someone threatened her brother. She took the safety off her gun and aimed it perfectly at the hooded man's head, even ten feet away. The stranger shook obviously, slowly moving his knife away from Tristan's throat. His hands rose to the air and the knife fell from his hands.
Brynn began to walk closer to them with a glare hard on her face. Her gun was trained on the man's face, ready to pull the trigger any second. She was used to looking people straight in the eye before she decided their fate. She found a sense of nostalgia as she looked down the barrel of her gun into the grey eyes of the stranger in black.
"Hey, hey, hey, I'm sorry. I'm just as shaken up as you must be. Look," His voice shook as he pulled his face mask down to his neck and his toque off his head, revealing his face. He was familiar. He had light brown brows and dyed blue hair. His attire was all black head to toe. The first thing Brynn noticed was his strong jawline, but she should've noticed that her brother was about to swing his elbow up to hit it.
It happened in a split second. Tristan swung his arm into the man's jaw, kicked his feet out from under him, and watched him fall before pointing his submachine gun at his face. He had days upon days of practicing that tactic.
"Make your move." Tristan spat at the man. Brynn knew Tristan was offended that someone would even attempt to hurt him in a time like this. Brynn's brother now had a jagged cut on his throat with blood seeping from it. His face was filled with rage and his eyebrows were set emotionlessly across his forehead. The years of vigorous training he had usually took over his instincts when it came to being attacked, like it was his first reaction.
"Tristan, its fine." Brynn belted out, putting the safety back on and shoving her gun in her waistband. She ran up to her brother, who didn't budge and kept looking straight at the now familiar man. Brynn put a hand on his shoulder and gently shoved him away. He reluctantly put his gun strap across his chest and gun over his shoulder. "We knew this guy in high school."
She reached her hand down to him and offered him a small smile. He slowly reached his hand up to her, confusion in his eyes.
"Brynn? Brynn Mason?" Their old friend asked, his eyes lighting up in the dark street. His voice still shook slightly from the earlier events.
"Yeah, you're Alex? We used to hang everyday after school," Brynn reminisced, a crooked smile overcoming her face. She suddenly remembered the huge crush she used to have on him and supressed embarrassment. "Sorry about my brother."
"No worries, I barely even recognized him with that damn beard," Alex laughed, turning to a surprised Tristan. Brynn's brother subconsciously reached up to touch his shortly trimmed beard. "Long time, no see..."
Alex put his hand out slowly to Tristan, who soon connected it and yanked him into a hug. They had been friends for four years before Tristan and Brynn were deployed.
"Man, do you know what's happened?" Alex asked, putting a hand on Tristan's shoulder.
"I'm guessing a bomb," Tristan spoke while running his hands over his face.
"We saw it drop," Brynn croaked out. "We saw what it did to people." The breeze caressed their faces and made Brynn's ponytail dance. The streets remained quiet, save for the wind whistling everyone's ears. It reminded Brynn of the cold nights sitting in her dugout, her M24 sniper focusing on the line of action in front of her. She would anticipate any move the enemy would make and know all the options she had when protecting civilians. She always knew what to do.
Flashbacks crossed Brynn's mind. The woman with charred skin, blood seeping from her cuts. Her baby lying pale and bloody in her arms, a blanket covering its lifeless body. Brynn shook her head, as if to shake her thoughts out. The memories mocked her; although she always knew what to do, she hadn't known then.
"Damn... I heard it and saw a bit of the cloud. Everyone just got up and left. Like they wanted to get as far away as they could." Alex drawled, his voice monotone as he looked straight forward. His face was void of emotions, even his eyes. Brynn took note of the light that left his eyes suddenly.
"You should've too man, the radiation is bad. It can kill within fifteen minutes of being too exposed." Tristan recalled from a brief lesson on nukes, his eyes on Alex. He looked back to Brynn to acknowledge her, then back to Alex.
"Whatever, you should've then. I think if we were going to die, we would've already." Alex shook off, worry seeping in to his voice. Tristan nodded in agreement, as well as Brynn. Suddenly Alex's faced lit up for a second. "Oh! There're a couple people inside. They're- um- my friends."
Tristan nodded, adjusting his shirt.
"Let's meet 'em."