Photo Courtesy / Phil Michaels
Tesla Bethel
Lantern Staff
By the time we reached the settlement, night was upon us. The howls and screeching echoed behind us only to be drowned out by the bustling noise of the settlement. Even though it was late, there was still much to get done. A fence of wooden spires surrounded the perimeter as guards kept a careful watch of the area. I made eye contact with one the guards as we approached. His eyes reflected in the darkness.
Nightwalker—this was the nickname given to those who in an evolved state received incredible night vision. The more I think about it, they probably found the name distasteful. No one likes being categorized, but we humans love our nice, clean-cut cubicles where we can organize people by their likes, dislikes and characteristics. It’s kind of sad, really. The whole world is in ruins, and yet we still cling to some of the old destructive ways no matter how small and insignificant.
As we got close, the Nightwalker approached us. Other than his eyes, he seemed completely ordinary.
“State your name, age and business. I recommend not making any sudden movements.” He said, casually placing a hand onto the gun at his belt.
I watched him warily as I did as I was told. “My name is Lena. This is Ren,” I said, glancing at the small framed little girl clinging to my side. “I’m 20 years old. She’s seven. We’ve been walking for weeks on foot to get here. We just need a safe place to stay. The animals are blood thirsty, and we have no way of getting clean water,” I stated begrudgingly, once again aware of just how painfully dry my throat was.
He gave a small grunt and a nod before moving aside to let us enter. I guess he decided that we really were incredibly non-threatening.
“One more thing,” I said in a small voice. “Do you by chance know where the doctors are with the cleanser?”
“Yeah, they are in the center of the encampment. The largest tent in this place. Hard to miss.” With that, he turned away.
We continued to make our way through the throng of tattered tents. People slept, whispered to each other or drank the night away. As we got closer to the center, the pathways became more narrow as tents were set up almost as if overlapping.
The medical tent was just as Nightwalker described. Huge, it was lined with cots on both sides with a large aisle to separate the two. Some of the cots were filled with the sick. Others left empty. The virus was still wreaking havoc on what was already left of the population.
I saw a woman dressed in a tattered lab coat. I suppose she was still trying to hold on to the normalcy of how doctors professionally dressed. Her red hair still blazed under the light of the lanterns. I looked to see Ren still standing in the opening of the tent with tears in her eyes.
“Ren? What’s wrong?” I asked. The woman having heard someone turned. Ren’s eyes widened, and were then clouded with disappointment. The woman herself looked a little confused.
“I’m sorry, I thought you were someone else,” Ren stated, eyes downcast.
