Cor

She had one mission and one mission alone: protect him.

A lucky charm, he called her; his precious pillar, he would whisper. Through thick and thin, she stood by him, supported him, and fulfilled her one purpose in life dutifully. Even now, with the arid horizon gleaning with broken glass from toppled buildings which one stood so proudly, she was with him—accepting the way he held her for dear life. Oh, how she longed to have the grace to reach out and wipe his tears as he stood atop the mountain of debris, searching for survivors, but she knew her place. She knew her weaknesses.

“It’s just you and me, Cor,” he softly chimed, brows knitting with shaken resolve the more stillness greeted his sienna hues, “we’ll make it through this.”

Cor couldn’t help but feel a bit dejected at hearing how his voice cracked—how the tears muddled the firmness in his throat. He was strong. When the fallout happened, he was in the corner with her, holding onto her for dear life, begging her for strength and protection. For days, he cried, and for days, she remained still and silent, allowing him the solace of peace through solidarity. When the worst had passed, he was back on his feet, and she was there to help him up; however, she wished she could do more. Throughout the years, she had seen him grow from a boy to a man—his features narrowing out from the arduous survival tasks he had to perform at awful hours and his eyes sinking inward to the comfort of obsidian circles thanks to the sleepless nights. He stood a little taller now, his tanned skin boasting of days in the nuclear winter sun.

But she never changed.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the abrupt movement of the young man tightening the scarf around him, masking his nose to protect him from the smog all around. “We just need to get to the other side of the city, right? That’s where help is. We can do this.”

Briefly, Cor wondered if that was more for himself or for her; regardless, she kept quiet. If help was on the other side, then all she had to do was follow and keep true to her mission.

What felt like years transitioned on their way through the empty dystopia, and not a single soul disturbed their lonely trek. Every now and again, he would talk to her—sing to her. He’d weep about how he missed mom, how he wished that he had told dad goodbye, and how he wished that this wasn’t really happening and was only just a nightmare. Cor kept silent. All she could do was listen to him and assure him that she’d be with him until the end; that’s what she promised in the beginning. Her life was his, and even if she didn’t tell him such upfront, she had a feeling that he knew. After all, if he didn’t trust her, then why would he cradle her every night and thank her for being there? Now wasn’t the time for self-doubt.

“Do you remember this song? You used to sing it to me all the time,” he chuckled out to break her from her spiral again, starting to shakily lilt out a tune. That’s right. Every time he would worry about the future, Cor would be there to soothe him with a smile and words from an old songbook she had in grade school. He still remembered something so archaic? After all these years? Despite the tears that were cascading down his withered, dirtied cheeks, he tried to finish the song; unfortunately, before he reached the first crescendo, he collapsed and broke down. The first thing he discarded was his scarf so that he could wail unabashedly, and the second thing he threw were his goggles. Before she could urge him to put his protective gear back on, he did the unthinkable. The third thing he pushed aside was her.

“I— I’m sorry; I—” he began to sob, shaking his head while wiping at his eyes. Cor could only lay in the dirt, surprised. She wanted to tell him that it was okay—that he was just upset, and he had every right to let his feelings show. Fate had other plans, lamentably.

“Fresh meat, everyone!” a sinister voice reverberated throughout the liminal building.

No. No, no, no! Thankfully, he got the message, and he ran to scoop Cor up and run away almost immediately. Ducking and weaving through the obstacle course of a concrete jungle, the man’s eyes watered up from the smog, but he kept pushing. Even when he started to cough his lungs out, he pressed on. Footsteps clamored behind him, but his stamina and speed that triumphed over the years showcased themselves proudly with each lowered decibel behind them. His ribcage seared with the sensation of his heart rabbiting against his chest, and pupils widened from sheer adrenaline forcing him onward. They were almost there. They could make it. They couldn’t give up here—

Bang.

Siennas widened in shock at the ripping feeling biting through his leg, and in that instant, he tumbled over into debris.

Bang.

A cry that shattered the air tore through his throat, and a new pain blossomed in his shoulder.

Bang.

“Cor!”

When she imagined getting destroyed, a gunshot wasn’t her chief choice, but she supposed that was how it was written in fate’s book. Well, at least she performed her duty, right? Wasn’t that all that mattered? She lay in pieces, glad that she was able to take the final bullet meant for him, wondering if all her life was just accumulating to this moment. If only she could get back up and fight for him. If only she could brush off the bullet and keep going like he did. If only she was stronger. Cor begged whatever was writing their story to have some semblance of mercy on him; she didn’t care what happened to her. She was done for, anyways. But him? He had to survive. Please, let that have been the last bullet, she begged; please, let him live. The closer the footsteps grew, though, the further her heart sank. Even as he held her and wept, apologizing for not being strong enough himself, she only begged the universe to smile favorably on him. Let the Poachers relent. Let them get lost. Let them spare him. Over and over, like a mantra, she begged. She just wanted to protect him. How embarrassing that she had to retire early.

“Why’re you cryin’?” the voice from earlier jeered, but he ignored it. He just kept weeping over Cor, holding onto her for dear life.

It’s over, she thought, finally surrendering.

As if reading her mind, the man closed his eyes, too, quieted his cries, and rested against the debris for the final shot.

Bang.

One second. Two. Three. Five. Ten. Silence.

Slowly, he peeked an eye open, and when he spotted the pursuer laying in a puddle of scarlet, he stood upright in shock and dropped Cor to the unforgiving ground. Wild eyes started veering everywhere, wondering where the shot came from, wondering who saved him. It wasn’t until he heard another voice ring through did his gaze light up with both bewilderment and relief, and instantaneously, the tears started again.

“Sorry I took so long! Glad I decided to keep going through the city instead of waiting. Do you know how hard it is to cross the country when there are a bunch of Poachers around? Ah, never mind. I’ll gripe about that later. C’mon, kiddo; I gotta get you to camp,” she casually introduced, finally stepping from the shadows from behind the corpse to show a gleaming smile. Right away, he tried to scramble toward the woman, but the shot in his leg cut that adventure short. When he started to tumble forward, though, the newcomer rushed forward to catch him, and with a soothing voice, she cooed, “Hey, hey; it’s okay. I’m here, now. You kept your part of the promise, and I kept mine. Don’t worry; I promised that I’d protect you, right? You’re getting snot all over my clothes.”

He just kept crying. The new woman sighed and shook her head before cradling him, and after clearing her throat, she started to sing that song. Like a melody from the heavens themselves, she sang it beautifully, and not even the first crescendo broke her tone. The chorus soothed his cries gradually, and when he could finally speak again, he apologized, “I’m sorry about your locket, Cor.”

“What? That old thing?” she laughed out, looking at the discarded heart-shaped golden mess that took the bullet for her brother, “That’s what it was supposed to do, remember? Protect you. Granted, I didn’t expect things to go to hell after I left for university, but here we are.”

Wide eyes—red from the tears and glazed with a film of fresh emotion—stared up at the battle-worn woman, and wobbly lips parted to say something, but instead, he darted his attention to the locket and sighed. “Eight years, Corazón… The picture we took at my middle school graduation kept me going for eight years, and now it’s ruined,” he mumbled, dejection clear in his gaze as he stared forlornly at the discarded locket. Cor sighed. After readjusting her cradle, she held him tightly, closed her eyes, and let him finish his weeping. She had no idea what he had been through; the only communication they had was through their dad’s old radios. She wasn’t there to see him grow from a boy to a man. She wasn’t there to wipe his tears. She wasn’t there to keep him safe.

But now she was.

Resolve burgeoned strongly in her heart, and amidst the man’s cries, she kept a stolid gaze on the locket, wondering what it had been through in her absence. It had one mission and one mission alone: protect him. Through thick and thin, it was supposed to be there for him, and something told her that it was. Cor smiled. The locket glimmered.

“It’s just you and me, little brother,” she chimed, resting her head atop his, “We’ll make it through this.”