Revenge

“Shhh. It will be ok. It will all be ok,” A man’s voice called out in the darkness.

For a moment, everything was black around Samantha, except for a man standing just off in the distance. It was difficult to tell if it was the darkness itself that was creating the enormous pressure or something inside it. Around her the sound of birds singing a cheerful tune echoed softly, as if coming through a long tunnel. Samantha began to wake slowly, her head turning back and forth as she was being pulled out of her nightmare.

The pressure lifted and she felt some kind of relief but still couldn't move her arms. A man with deep blue eyes and slicked back blonde hair looked down at her, smiling as he put his fingers over his lips, shushing very softly.

She sat up suddenly, breathing hard as if she had been holding her breath for a long time.

“John!” she yelled into the dimly lit living room, beads of sweat rolling down the sides of her face. She shivered as a cool breeze from the broken wall next to her seeped in.

For a moment she had forgotten where she was, her hazel eyes scanning where she had decided to make camp. The man’s image faded slowly from her vision and the old room with wild plants growing through the floorboards came into focus. It was a small living room with an overturned table that blocked the front door. Broken pieces of glass and drywall littered the ground and a large pile of rubble from the second floor now occupied the kitchen. A large hole from the half-collapsed wall that used to be the house’s facade was letting the morning light pour in. Everything else was boarded up or barricaded: the only way in or out was a side door attached to the garage, which she had been able to pry open the night before.

Samantha realized that tears were running down her face and quickly wiped them away as she leaned down to open her backpack for a quick inventory check. She dug through a half-filled bottle of water, a map, a switchblade, a rope, two cans of unmarked food, a dry pair of socks, and a small multi-tool. She took a quick swig of water and threw her pack over her shoulder as she made her way out of the house.

She walked into the middle of the small cul-de-sac and looked back at where she had spent the night. The row of townhouses looked nearly demolished: the attached house to the left was completely caved in while the house she had stayed in looked as if it had taken mortar fire. Samantha couldn’t believe it was still standing; the half still intact looked as if it would collapse any moment. Where the street used to be, the knee-high grass had cracked through the asphalt and overtaken nearly everything. Rusted cars sat sporadically, as if they had been quickly abandoned where the street used to be. This was a perfectly normal scene found almost anywhere in the world these days; scenes of chaos and destruction now resting peacefully in overgrown nature.

Samantha instinctively reached up to brush her hair behind her ears, a reflex rendered useless when she had cut it short a few days ago. She knelt down and took off her backpack to check her map. It wasn’t far now. Her hands shook as she folded the map back up. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes to calm herself, but the moment she had, his face appeared. She fought back tears and opened her eyes, still seeing him standing in front of her, just a few yards away, smiling, his piercing blue eyes staring blankly.

“It will be ok,” He whispered.

Samantha blinked a few times and he was gone. She held back a sob, her fist clenched so tightly she thought she might draw blood.

Samantha walked a couple of miles through what was once a forest preserve. The warm mid-day light snuck through trees, but the thick rustling canopy overhead proved a cool shade. Samantha’s feet traced the well-worn path created by many other feet in past years. After a while of walking, Samantha’s mind began to wander; the fallen sticks crunching underneath her started to fade away, the birds hushed, and the breeze ran through the leaves without a sound. In the distance, a few deer stood together grazing from the forest floor without taking much notice of Samantha. Eventually, their heads perked up and big black eyes watched her before they dashed off, hopping over some foliage and disappearing from view.

“It will be ok,” John’s voice whispered softly in her ear.

Samantha stumbled backward into a tree, her shoulder smacking into the rough bark as she fell to the ground. She wept, pulling her knees to her chest, lowering her face and closing her eyes. Her mind had betrayed her again, making her believe he was still near her. She knew he was gone, had been for some time now, but she could still see his face, smell him, feel his touch. His smile was burned into her mind, his dark blue eyes staring at her as she sobbed, alone and shivering in the woods. She dug her nails into her arms, begging herself to concentrate on the pain. It took a moment, but John disappeared and she felt like she could breathe again. She rocked back and forth, calming herself until she felt she could stand.

Samantha reached the edge of the woods, peering down the hill, which sloped to a small compound with a few guards posted outside. After a week of searching, she had found it.

She waited for nightfall to sneak down. She knew she couldn’t be seen or it would be over. She ate a can of beans as she rested against one of the trees, studying the guards as the sun slipped past the horizon. She easily slipped past a man and woman patrolling outside, through the main entrance, which was empty and quiet.

The ground was littered with old flyers, newspapers, masks, and general garbage left by the homeless refugees that had once occupied this place. Samantha swooped behind a supply crate as she heard footsteps approaching. As the guard came near, she kept the crate between him and herself before jumping out and grabbing him, wrapping her arm around his neck with one arm and raising her knife with the other to make sure he knew to stay still.

“Quiet…I’m looking for John. Is he here?” her voice came out barely above a whisper, but she spoke firmly and clear.

“W-Who?” The man stuttered, visibly shaking.

Samantha kicked the back of his knee and forced the man to kneel down.

“Last chance. Blond hair and blue eyes. He has a happy face tattoed on his left hand. JOHN,” Samantha said, tightening her grip.

The man nodded quickly.

“Y-yes, right, h-he is in the prison. Down this hall in the b-basement.”

Samantha almost lost her grip; part of her hadn’t thought she would actually find him here.

She hesitated as the realization that her journey would now finally come to an end solidified itself in her mind. She took a deep breath and focused on the guard she was holding, using her hip to flip him onto his back, slamming him into the ground hard.

“If you’re lying, I’ll be back to take something you’ll really miss,” Samantha hissed sharply before she put pressure on his neck, cutting off the blood flow.

The man struggled for a moment before his head fell backwards. Samantha let go and let his head fall to the floor. She raced down the hallway, following the signs to the basement. A makeshift sign with white painted text read “PRISON”. As she turned the corner, she saw a long hallway ending in a single door. This building was clearly a bunker built after the third war to avoid the nuclear blast.

“Too bad it couldn’t do anything against what came after the war ended,” Samantha thought bitterly.

Samantha carefully made her way to the door, praying it was unlocked. She wrapped her hand around the handle and pulled down. Click. Samantha’s stomach dropped as her pounding heart raced even faster. She hoped no one inside had heard.

She pushed open the door to a storage room. It was large, hundreds of cans and jars stocked from floor to ceiling. The people here had clearly done very well for themselves. Samantha closed the door behind her very carefully, very quietly, taking a few steps into the room.

In the back was a plastic flap. She moved toward it slowly, the pulse in her neck beating so hard it made her dizzy.

As the plastic moved to the side Samantha immediately could see a few prison cells. At first it looked like no one was there until two figures, shrouded in darkness, moved in the last cell. Samantha double checked that there was no one else in the prison standing guard and moved forward. She could hear the movement in the cell but still couldn't see anyone's faces.

A sickening smack sounded through the room. Then another. And another. Samantha moved closer while crouched, her knife at the ready as she made her way to the front of the dimly lit cell. She pressed against the bars and it swung open.

Samantha glared into the cell with eyes full of rage. Her chest heaved as she watched the guard land a punch on the prisoner, his back to Samantha as his fist landed another smack across the prisoner’s face. Her knife shook as she stared at the guard, her mouth opening slightly. She hesitated, nearly unable to speak, but another hollow smack woke her up and she spoke, her voice trembling.

“John?”

The guard spun around: long mangled blond hair matted with sweat and dirt covered his face while his gritted yellow teeth bared furiously at her for a moment before he recognized her. His piercing blue eyes glared at Samantha, but almost instantly his fury turned to confusion and then to shock. Before John could speak, Samantha moved in a blur, plunging her knife into his neck while tackling him into the wall. He gasped and grabbed her wrist, trying to push her off, but even though she was half his size, she used her weight to get him to the ground as she drove the knife deep into his neck. His dark blue eyes, now full of fear, looked up at Samantha as if he were pleading with her.

But Samantha just leaned forward and put her lips right next to his ear, whispering coldly, “Shhhh…it will be ok. It will all be ok.”

Samantha watched as he let out a small gurgle, the light fading from his eyes before he went limp. She pulled the knife out and cleaned it, standing over the lifeless body for a few moments as she just stared into his eyes, breathing heavily with tears running down her face. She leaned forward and ripped open his shirt, revealing a silver, heart-shaped locket.

She looked at it for a moment, remembering when John stood over her weeks ago, holding it while he grinned.

“I’ll keep this. Something to remember you by.” he sneered as he left Samantha broken and sobbing on the floor.

She took the locket in her hand and ripped it off his neck, pocketing it quickly before cleaning off her blade on John's shirt. She turned to the prisoner who was huddled in the corner. Samantha just looked at him with empty hazel eyes before walking out of the prison, leaving John and her nightmares lying in a pool of blood.