su-SPEC-t Small World Anthology

"Fumes" by @benjammies

Lee lifted up his goggles to catch a better glimpse of the landscape. Further down the barren scenery, he caught a view of the city, or more along the lines of what was left of it. It seemed to have been in as much bad shape as the countless other miles of wasteland they had crossed. But he knew that with dense urban areas, there was a greater opportunity to find supplies.

Whatever buildings that remained stood with fractions broken off. Some towers leaned, threatening to topple over with the slightest breeze. The ground around Lee was arid and lacking vegetation, but the approaching city appeared to put the phrase 'concrete jungle' to a whole new definition. Vegetation had begun to weave its way through the foundations, turning the once grey and glass structures to a brown-green color dried by the blazing sun.

A gust of wind picked up dirt and sand and flung it against the crew, prompting Lee to place his beaten yellow goggles back over his eyes.

"Looks like we'll reach there before sundown!" An aged voice hollered over the gust.

Lee snuck a glimpse at old Rusty manning the horses that pulled their makeshift carriage. Rusty was older than anyone in the crew by far, which meant that he must have had the best memories of what times were like before the world had gone to shit. But whenever Lee tried to pry the crazy old coot for information, it was a different story every time. Rusty ranted about running water flowing through streams. He spouted on about people of all walks of life living together in almost harmony. But Lee couldn't depict much truth from what was said.

The horses wheezed and whined as they trotted across the pathway that was once an interstate. The two rickety steeds pulled along the ten humans, all sitting on a wooden platform with wheels nailed to the bottom. With the ragged crew sitting off to the sides, a pile of miscellaneous scraps and tools was placed in the middle.

"No rush in it. It's best to move in when it's dark," a male voice remarked with a tone of authority.

Lee had grown sick of hearing that voice always get the last word no matter what the discussion was.

"Keep an eye out for anything we might need," Gerard continued, his raspy yet powerful voice reaching Lee through the blowing sand.

Lee felt a headache pressing on the back of his skull. He groaned and fished through his pockets, searching for the one thing that kept him going. His white prescription vial was the main event for his everyday agenda. And every day was an opportunity to find more of the little red pills.

He dug out the small container and tapped it against his open palm, goading out only a few little capsules into his calloused hand. He peered into the vial. Empty.

Lee swallowed one pill and saved the remaining ones for later. He hoped that this city had more medication hidden away somewhere. Pharmacies, buildings he recognized with holding a sign of a red cross, usually had what he craved. And when the cravings hit, he knew he couldn't stay sane for long.

The eight of them trotted through the elements, kicking up sand and rocks with their wooden wheels. Lee thought about lying down on the wooden platform and sleeping, but he didn't trust any of his group members enough to suspect they wouldn't steal from him.

"Oi, Slanty!" Another man called to Lee, pointing up at the sky.

Lee gritted his teeth. He didn't care for his nickname that hinted at his slanted eyes. His mother had told him that they were descendants of people from a faraway place called Mongolia. Lee wondered if things were as bad in Mongolia as they were in North America.

Lee looked up, catching a shadow hitting the glint of his goggles. The shadow turned out to be a crow, momentarily blocking the sun from Lee's view. He knew what his companion was meaning. A bow was shrugged off his shoulder as Lee's boots crunched onto the arid soil. With a deep breath, he poised an arrow into place and trained his eye on the bird. Its black wings were spread out, catching the dusty wind and propelling itself across the sky. Lee took a deep breath and envisioned where the crow would be in the next second. With an inhale, he let go of the string.

The pained caw of the bird resonated over the gusting winds. Its sleek body plummeted through the air and landed on the ground in a cloud of dust, the arrow still sticking out of its breast once the dust cleared. Lee exhaled and estimated the distance of where the crow's body lied. It was only a short walk to retrieve and sling it onto the wagon. It would be nice to have as a meal later.

Lee's heavy boots stomped back to his wagon further up. To him, his slanted eyes seemed to work just fine.

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Read more about Lee on benjammies profile by clicking on Fumes, or one of his many other stories: