Rude Awakening

315 days until extinction.

However that choice would be stolen from them as a shattering of glass in the early morn would force their hand.

Harper was the first awake and first on their feet. She had been teaching Jackson how to sleep lighter, and while he was a quick study he still was only seventeen. He helped with the last part of packing while talking quietly.

“What is it?”

“Someone downstairs.” Her forehead furrowed in thought while listening to the slightly muffled sound of people arguing downstairs.

“What did you break the glass for? Fils de pute, could have scared them off.”

“Well if not, your shouting will definitely do it!” The voice was unmistakably the one of the man they had let go from the other day. Harper stared at Jackson with an expression of annoyance that cut deeper than any words could. And before he could begin to apologize she spoke sharply.

“We’ve got to go. They’re on the bottom floor but it won’t take them long to get here.”

“Harper I-”

“Not now. First we’ve got to get out of here.” Slinging the pack over their shoulder she pulled the pistol from her holster, a Beretta 92-F that was cleaned and maintained almost every evening.

Jackson fell in behind her and quickly they moved down the hall as quietly as possible until reaching the apartment which led to the fire escape they had found last night during their search of the building. Like Harper had speculated it was close enough that they would be able to jump to the next building, but doing so would most definitely alert the others. It seemed Harper had also determined this as she hesitated near the window, looking down into the alleyway below.

“What are we going to do?” Jackson asked. “If we jump they’ll hear us, and probably get to the next building quicker than we can get out.”

“That’s true.” Harper set the pack down and began to dig through it before pulling out a relatively compact crowbar. “But what if we disappear?”

Jackson followed her eyes to the manhole near the base of the fire escape and let out a small sigh of acceptance.

“Alright, let’s get stinky.”

Getting into the sewers was not difficult. The manhole was easily pried up and slid back into place making it look like they had just disappeared completely. They could hear the muffled sound of footsteps and a heated debate from above but it moved off to another nearby building and Jackson could finally breath a sigh of relief.

Though each breath was now laced with the fetid stench of of sewers and offered little reprieve.

“Harper,” Jackson started. But when he met her gaze he could not finish speaking. She did not seem upset, or even judgmental, she seemed almost apologetic.

“I’m sorry, Jackson.”

“What? Why are you sorry? I’m the one who screwed up!”

She put a finger to her lips and waited several seconds before speaking again.

“Your ‘screw up’ was believing that people aren’t going to screw you over. I could chastise you for that, tell you how dangerous it is,” she shrugged. “But you’re probably already telling yourself all that. And I don’t exactly want to kill that little bit of hope you seem to still have.”

Jackson stared at her for a moment in complete shock. Never before had anyone understood the way his brain worked, and the levels of punishment he’d put himself through mentally for any mistake. Tears pricked at his eyes and he couldn’t help but laugh before turning slightly and brushing the back of his hand across his eyes.

“I totally thought you were going to bust my ass.”

“Mistakes happen, Jackson. You’ll learn from this and next time you'll have a better sense of whether or not someone can be trusted.”

Nodding slowly he sniffed heavily to get rid of any evidence he had been emotional before turning back to Harper who had already begun to move down the sewer pathway.

He was thankful that the flashlight she had tore through darkness like a hot knife through butter lighting up the surprisingly cramped quarters far more than he had expected.

As he had expected much of the sewer was full of the much and mire of civilization, but beyond that it was in far better condition than he had expected. Part of him had been anticipating something like the horror show that was the bathroom, but even the ‘sediment’ as Harper had called it—a disgusting word choice that made Jackson gag—was flowing smoother than it should have been for a nearly abandoned city.

“It looks pretty well maintained.” Jackson said, unable to keep his thoughts solely to himself.

“My thoughts exactly.” Harper had also seemed more on edge the further they walked, which caused the hair on the back of Jackson’s neck to nervously stand to attention.

It was impossible to keep proper track of time down there, at least Jackson felt that way. Every so often they would find a section pierced by the light from outside, and while they walked carefully to avoid it all that told Jackson was that the sun was still up.

At some point Harper paused their advance for a brief rest, and while they seemed able to eat without issue Jackson could not find the strength to masticate and so tucked it into his pocket for later. He was having a difficult time keeping his stomach settled and didn’t think food would be helpful right now.

After what seemed to be forever Harper broke the silence while shining the light on the ladder they were now approaching.

“We’ll go up here. Pretty sure this will put us right behind one of those walled sections.”

“Won’t they just spot us immediately?”

Harper shook her head.

“They’re more concerned with people coming in rather than what’s happening inside. Once we go up, we’ll find a spot to ditch the bag and make our way to that store you mentioned.”

“Humbug Harmony.”

“Yeah, that one.”

Slinging the bag over her shoulder she slowly began to climb the ladder, looking down only once to make sure Jackson was following her. Then she deftly pried the manhole up and slid it aside as quietly as she could before pulling herself up into the bright, and thankfully fresh, air.

As Jackson made his way up he took the hand offered to him, only to realize as he took his foot off the final rung of the ladder that the hand was a much darker complexion than Harper’s, closer to his own.

Looking up he stared into the eyes of a young woman around his age, an almost apologetic smile on her face. Beside her were two other figures, each with guns trained on Harper whose hands were up in a gesture of surrender.

Harper met Jackson’s eyes and let out a small chuckle, “guess I was wrong.”