The Silence

Atticus couldn’t resist snickering loudly, looking at the faded image of a woman plastered on the face of the billboard near strangled by overgrowth. It jutted out of the mass of trees oddly like a sore thumb. Though faded it had somehow been spared other destructive hallmarks from the fall of civilization - no rust marks, jagged edges of metal, not even tears in its picture. He could easily make out the gentle slope of chin. The delicate way her fingers brushed at her collarbone. A subtle enticement for any onlooker to invest their hard-earned wealth into the golden heart-shaped locket adorning the woman's neck.

Althea gave him a puzzled look at his outburst. They had kept mostly silent until now as they trudged their way through the landscape scavenging for mushrooms and berries. They had found themselves much further from their home than they had ever been before, venturing well past the Honeycomb Mountains. Ma and Pa had told her the mountains were actually once a great village. But like most things they had succumbed to nature over time. Steep and towering, the mountains were lined with many ominous dark caves that lent validity to their name. The many caves led to the dark recesses of their interiors and what or whom-ever lurked there. They had gone beyond the twisting Sky Trails whose paths circled themselves only to end abruptly twenty feet in the air in a treacherous dangling mass of rubble, wires, and growth. Further, they’d traveled into a mass of trees, not so tall as the mountains had been but tall enough to block the harshest of the sun's rays. They had been able to see beams of the yellow sun through the canopy until a little bit ago.

Althea knew daylight was precious. The dangers of the wilderness were greater as the day went on. Her father had drilled into her that anything out of the ordinary had to be considered with added caution. All that could be heard until this moment had been the normal rustlings of wildlife and chirping of birds in the distance. Yet her brother had seen fit to break the easy silence vital to their safety. “Shhhhh,” She chided before asking, “What?” the word coming out as almost a hiss in its whisper.

Atticus looked back at the billboard they had just passed. He turned to his sister, “It’s just, Ma and Pa always telling us about the absolute destruction the Earth suffered. How society and all that collapsed in on itself,” Atticus gestured back toward the billboard, “and that's one of the few things that made it?”

“I just don't understand what's so funny about it,” Althea replied, and immediately regretted it. She knew full well where it could lead. To her chagrin, Atticus failed to disappoint.

“If we’re to believe Ma and Pa, they could ride 100 horses at once and make lightning at will to run off the night. They even knew how to turn around a river current. Ain't that something?” Atticus’s artful renditions of the stories Ma and Pa told him regarding the old world always intrigued Althea. She usually delighted in hearing him wax on and on about the wonders before their time, imagining a better world helped to distract from the ultimate poverty of this one. However, the middle of a scavenge was hardly the place for his musings

Living away from others helped to keep them out of the petty squabbles of the surrounding villages and allowed them peace from the numerous superstitions of the small-minded villagers. It was bad enough Althea had been born with vibrant red hair; an ill omen, if the elders were to be believed. However, the ire of the elders was cast again on her family when three years later her brother had come into the world sporting a hand with only two fingers and a thumb. A “cleft” hand, her father had told her once, was the final indicator to the villagers that their bloodline was tainted. Her parents hadn't even gotten the chance to name Atticus before all four of them had been driven from the village and into the woods. Althea clutching her baby brother tightly to her chest, her father carrying their mother in his arms with little more than the clothes on their backs.

It had been a hard life since then, to be sure. Always hiding from others. The Constant fear of persecution from the suspicious folk who survived the fallout of the apocalypse. Ceasless running from pursuit from one thing or another.

“What does any of this have to do with the giant sky sign, Atty?” she asked, still whispering.

“All those wonders, and the most impressive thing I’ve ever seen from the old world is a neck trinket painting.”

“I suppose when you put it like that it does seem a bit funny.” She agreed but then she remembered, “This isn't the most impressive thing from the old world you’ve ever seen. What about the metal carriage we found last autumn?”

“That thing? It was eaten away by rust and rot.” Atticus protested, “And it stank of those Horse Humps Pa only smokes on special occasions. Not very impressive if you ask me.”

Althea held up her hands in defeat, “Pardon me, oh expert of impr-”

CRACK!

The pair froze. Every forest shadow suddenly seemed to harbor some greater evil thing than the previous one. Goose pimples pricked along their spines.

"Atty. Let's go." Althea whispered, anxiously backing toward her brother she grabbed his arm and pulled. Her eyes searched the trees. Searching for any indication they were not alone. No sign came. She didn't feel less afraid. She yanked his arm urgently. Desperate to get him to keep pace with her.

Soon enough she broke into a sprint. She was afraid to look back as she dragged Atticus along. There were wild things in the woods, she knew. Creatures brought from distant lands long ago, before the world had ended. She had heard Ma and Pa speak of giant wild beasts. Things covered in fur and could rip a man in half. Gangs of giant cats that would spill your intestines before your eyes. She and her brother were armed, yes. But arrows and hunting knives would be of little use against the monsters in the shadows.

Heart racing in her chest. Her legs were pumping faster than they ever had before. She knew in her gut, they had to run.

Suddenly she felt her brother's arm rip from her grasp. She heard the heavy thud of his body hitting the forest floor, followed by a cry. Her legs continued to spirit her away of their own accord, afraid.

She was afraid.

Before the trees swallowed her she heard her brother's faint cries for help and then nothing. She still couldn't force herself to turn back. Instead, she hid and listened with bated breath to the silence.