The Tisaian Chronicles .5: Squad 19 by Nicholas Sansbury Smith

Author:Nicholas Sansbury Smith [Smith, Nicholas Sansbury]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Single Authors, Dystopian, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Anthologies & Short Stories, One Hour (33-43 Pages), Anthologies, Science Fiction, Post-Apocalyptic, Cyberpunk, Literature & Fiction, Short Stories, Short Stories & Anthologies
Amazon: B00DDE4GNM
Published: 2013-06-10T04:00:00+00:00

-3-

Nights are always the loneliest time in the Wastelands. The darkness has a way of making me feel like I’m the only person who exists, a single fish in an ocean of black water. In Tisaia, the Biomass-powered electricity pumps through the bloated electrical lines like veins to a heart, illuminating Lunia like a Christmas tree.

“Christmas trees. Hah,” I laugh, but no one is around to hear me. I can still remember one I had as a kid. Sasa wouldn’t even know what Christmas is; I doubt she has ever seen a real tree. Even if she had seen the beautiful gardens of Lunia before she was deported into the Wastelands, she would have only seen young trees, nothing with lush branches like the ones that lined my block as a kid. A damn shame. But most kids don’t know the beauty of the past anyways. At least they can’t miss what they never had.

In the distance, a shooting star tears through the dark clouds and illuminates the sky. For a second I don’t feel so alone, but the trail of light quickly fades. I stand, brushing the dirt off my fatigues. My 30/06 is digging into my shoulders and I unfasten it, deciding it’s time to check out the perimeter. I bring the scope to my eyes and glass the horizon. The infrared image yields no sign of life, not a single blip of red.

“See anything?”

I turn, startled, pointing the rifle at the small silhouette of someone standing a few steps away.

“Identify yourself, pronto!” I order, digging the butt of the rifle deeper into the spot where it has rested so many times before.

“It’s just me. Sasa.”

Slowly, I lower the rifle, pointing the barrel away from the young girl’s head. With the swipe of my index finger, I risk giving away my position and turn on my night vision goggles. The glow illuminates her frightened face.

“What the hell are you doing all the way out here alone?”

“I’m not alone, I’m with you.”

“So you’re a wise guy now?”

Her face is lit up like a green night light, and I can see her blank eyes staring back at me. I forgot her age; no one under the age of thirty would understand that phrase. “Why did you come out here to find me?”

She shrugs. “You said when we aren’t busy you’d teach me to shoot. Last I checked, neither of us had any work to do.”

“I’m working right now, Sasa. I’m always working. Trying to keep everyone safe.” I point towards the Wastelands. “You see that? There are about a thousand different ways you can die out there.”

She turns but remains silent.

“Do you hear me? Do you think this is a game?”

“Actually, I don’t see anything but darkness. I didn’t find you out here. I followed you.”

And then it all makes sense. Of course she didn’t find me out here. She had to have followed me because anyone would be blind as a bat outside without night vision goggles. I grab her by the arm and squeeze, my grip firm with rage.

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