Prologue

A torrent of rain pelted the sky above Reythe. The darkness muted greens and greys of vine covered buildings circled a park-like area coated in trees. Boot-worn paths between bushes and wild grass marked the way towards a clearing in the center.

A group of people clad in Reythe’s ranger uniform, a sturdy green/grey coat and heavy cargo pants, surrounded a pedestal carrying a thick concrete orb as rectangular devices dangling from their hips emitted an irregular but semi-frequent ticking.

The people of Reythe were no strangers to performing tasks in the dark. Energy had to be conserved. Time needed to be spent wisely. Though with every passing year, things got easier. People managed to find more and more time for things.

Reythe began holding funerals again in 227, eighty years ago and two hundred and twenty-seven years after civilization collapsed. It was deemed important for grieving and morale; it also served as an example of how far they’d come.

Yet still, there was too much to do in Reythe, and barely enough people to do it so only the deceased’s family ever showed up to mourn, usually on days when they could afford to take a break, and only ever once. Rebuilding civilization was a difficult and lengthy task, one which had been worked on in Reythe for centuries. Every death was a setback, particularly this one, the death of Mary Amundson, Reythe’s best ranger.

Her parents, Thomas and Madeline Amundson, as well as her little sister, Lena, were the only ones present. Each of them wore the same ranger uniform as the others. (Because Lena wore one of Mary’s spare uniforms, hers was far too large for her.) What was once worn purely out of admiration, now carried sorrow with it, and a drive to fill the void left by her sister’s death.

One of her hands was pressed to her forehead in a salute, the other grasped a cutesy, almost fox-like charm as it dangled helplessly from one of her coat pocket zippers. While no one knew where it came from, whenever she came home with something weird, it was never questioned; they just assumed it was a gift from Mary and this charm was no exception.

Despite Lena's best attempts, it wasn't long before a pained, tired expression glued itself to her face as she struggled to hold back tears.

Madeline placed a hand on Lena’s head, then began to pet her head as if telling her that it was okay to cry.

She nearly broke down in tears the moment her mother’s hand touched her head, but she was trying to test herself. She decided to avoid crying at Mary’s funeral as proof Mary’s death was something she could overcome. Once this was all over, she could cry to her heart's content, but, just for this moment, she had something to prove to herself, and she was going to prove it.

A loud popping bang rang out from each of the rangers’ rifles in sequence. The rangers then replaced the cartridges of their rifles with live rounds, before slinging them back over their shoulders and returning to their posts.

With that, the ceremony was over. Not a word had been spoken, not a moment wasted. As their forms disappeared into the trees, only the infrequent ticking of Madeline and Thomas’ devices and the resounding splats of raindrops slamming into the leaves overhead and ground below remained.

Madeline patted Lena’s back as if to signal it was time to leave, but Lena stood there, motionless. Was this really all they could do for her? She thought, then tried to think of what else could be done, stopping herself as she realized it wasn’t what Mary would have wanted. 

Her mother looked down at her, tears visibly welling up within the prison of her eyes. “It’s okay Lena. We’re still here.” Madeline said, still petting Lena’s head. “We can leave when you’re ready.”

I don’t want to go. “I… I’m ready.” Her words and thoughts came to a head. She turned to go, or at least tried to. Conflicting words and thoughts kept her feet planted in the mud as tears leaked down her face.

Her parents looked at each other, knowingly.

Why…? Why can’t I move…? Mary would have been able to. Lena’s hands pawed at her face to wipe away the tears indecision caused her to shed. I… I can’t just stay here.

Light crunches of footsteps closed in on them.

There were three people. The man was the one to speak first. “Well if it isn’t Thomas and Madeline. I suppose if you’re out here with that useless twerp, the rumors of your ‘good’ daughter being dead must be true?” 

The sheer level of unearned arrogance in his voice told Lena exactly who these three were; The man speaking was Robert Morrison, next to him were his wife, Annette Morrison, and their child Blaine Morrison.

“Not now Robert.” Thomas patted Lena on the back. “We were just getting ready to leave.”

“She might not’ve shown it to you but that girl was a monster you know. If you’d seen some of the things she did, you wouldn’t even consider her human. It’s a disgrace the Rangers name had to be sullied by allowing her on.” Venom leaked from his mouth as though he were wholeheartedly unconcerned about the consequences, after all, the protector of the Amundson family, the person he feared most, was no longer around.

“How long are you going to keep this up” Thomas attempted to say before being interrupted.

“She's a monster too.” Their child pointed at Lena. His face was covered in bruises and he clung to his mother while cowering behind his father.

Thomas wasn’t going to be able to change the Morrisons's minds, but he could still try. “We’ve been over this before, before dying…”His voice was interrupted as Lena’s leaking tears turned to full blown sobbing.

How would Mary respond to this situation? She thought. Would she keep crying? Would she hit him? Would… would she ki… Lena never completed her ridiculous thought. She would’ve never allowed herself to be in this position in the first place. She found her answer. But she wasn’t Mary, and as such, not wanting to hurt someone, she just continued to cry.

The thoroughly confused look on Robert’s face made it seem as though not even he believed his own child when he called Lena a monster. “Look, as I’ve told you in the past, I’ve been there and you haven’t.” He stared Thomas directly in the eye before turning towards his family. “Let's go…”

The trio walked forward, unimpeded by the Amundson’s.

“Oh and one more thing.” Robert paused near Thomas. “I heard the brat was with her when she died. Think it might’ve been her fault?”

Madeline scoffed at the absurd statement.

Lena would never tell a soul, but she knew beforehand what would happen that fateful day.

I should have listened. She thought. I should’ve believed. Maybe… maybe I could have stopped her. If I did… Mary might still be alive.

But more thoughts catapulted themselves at her, caking her mind in reality because she knew, deep down, having the ability to stop Mary was, has always been, and will always be a far… far-off dream.

In fact, if it weren’t for Mary's death, Lena would’ve thought it impossible. No. Her own admiration for older sister ran even deeper, down into her very core. It was impossible. Lena was sure of it.

Mary has to be out there somewhere.