Map to a Shack

I unfurl the note one last time, scrutinizing every last detail to ensure I reached the right place. The note is made from old yellow parchment, and convoluted red arrows streak across the page to create a makeshift map. At the heart of the labyrinth of arrows is a marked location, hastily circled several times by the map’s so-called cartographer. Though the map is confusing and amateurly made, I can only assume that this map is designed with the intention to conceal the circled location from any normal person reading this.

I fold the map back into my pocket, and I scour my surroundings only to find a run-down shack illuminated only by flickering streetlights, damaged and weathered by many years of storms… or by vandals.

“This has to be it,” I reluctantly think to myself as I rub the dust from my eyes to confirm that I have indeed reached my intended destination.

With some hesitation, I walk toward the shack and open the front door. As the creak of the rusty hinges echo across the empty street, I don’t know whether to feel relieved or disturbed that no one in the surrounding buildings, all in a similar state of disrepair, have come to investigate the commotion I am causing.

The interior of the shack is dark, so I reach for one of my many utility pockets on my tactical vest to pull out my flashlight. I would’ve been tempted to reach for my pistol on my side holster instead, but I don’t want to risk exposing my position with gunfire… not unless the situation warrants it, at least.

As I carefully point my flashlight around the room, I see nothing but old furniture, dust, and leaves blowing in from a broken window. DING! I briefly freeze in place upon hearing my foot hit a large metallic object.

Looking down, it appears to be the handle to a giant hatch… a hatch that seemingly leads to a lower floor or basement to this shack. I continue to point my flashlight at the hatch, grabbing the handle to open it. I give the handle a few good tugs, but the hatch remains shut, firmly locked. I set my flashlight down to clutch the handle firmly in both my hands, and with one swift yank…

CRACK!

The handle remains in my hands… disconnected from the hatch, and bits of splintered wood and metal from the hatch’s now broken lock scatter across the ground.

I let go of the handle, grab my trusty flashlight, and aim its beam of light into the hatch. I methodically guide the light from left to right, trying to identify the corners and entrances that make up the basement below me, but all I see is cracked concrete floors, torn insulation spilling out from the walls, and… splotches of blood.

THUMP… THUMP… THUMP…!

A rhythmic beating emanates from the room beneath me. Is it the sound of my own heart beating inside my chest, footsteps from a squad of coordinated soldiers, or something else entirely? The repetitive sound quickens, as if it is drawn to the illumination from my flashlight. I came here for a reason, and they are expecting me. The only way forward is to plunge into the unknown. I take a deep breath to steel myself for what waits below, and I dive into the unknown abyss once concealed by the hatch.

The second my boots hit the ground, I am blinded by three bright lights that pierce the darkness.

As my vision slowly unblurs, I begin to see three silhouetted figures.

I had the advantage of an elevated position to scout the floor, and yet, these figures eluded my surveillance. Whether they hid behind false walls or used special equipment to conceal themselves, one thing is for certain—I am now at their mercy.

The first figure comes into view…a middle-aged man with an above average height and muscular build. Wearing a heavy military jacket, he has the steely visage of a war veteran, but his eyes bear a stern yet hopeful look.

The second stranger is a diminutive, small-framed woman with short, dyed hair. From her appearance, one would assume that she is a teenage, anti-conformist rebel, but her face revealed that she is easily in her mid-twenties. She has a concerned look, yet the corners of her mouth are curved, like she is trying to suppress a grin.

A mysterious skilled veteran and an eccentric woman who bore the appearance of a girl half her age, just who exactly are these people?

The final figure steps forward, a tall and muscular blonde woman, much younger than the veteran but older than the has-been rebel, wearing a serious look of determination. As if to answer my unspoken question, she proclaims, “Humanity is barreling down a dangerous path. We’re going to change that, and your presence here means you’re either here to help us… or snuff us out.” Despite her harsh words, her tone is more constructive than admonishing, not unlike the way a “big sister” chastises their younger siblings.

It only takes a second for me to realize that all three individuals are soldiers, their eyes drained of innocence. Was such innocence lost from being surrounded by the bodies of their fallen comrades… or by being surrounded by the mangled corpses of their victims?

As I fully catch my bearings, I come to the grim realization that I’ve been staring down the barrels of a trio of guns. Be them friend or foe, I must make a move now or risk being gunned down in this dark, forgotten place. Instinctively, I quickly raise my hands to show I bring no harm.

“I received your message, your instructions, and I’m here to help,” responding to the blonde woman’s proclamation and reaffirming that we are not enemies.

“Hold your fire!” the man says as he holsters his weapon. The man uses one of his arms to push the muscular woman’s gun down and extends his other arm in front of the line of sight of the smaller woman to stop her fire. Responding to the man’s order, the two women then slowly put down their firearms.

The man walks up to me with a relieved expression, “We didn’t think you would get the message!” he explains, offering me a handshake as a sign of goodwill. While I respond in kind by shaking his hand, he smiles faintly at me and admits, “Any willing recruits are precious to us in light of recent events… Recruits that’ll do anything I command!”