Hero

As I gaze into the distance, I see the massive 51st State. It's all deserted and covered in junk like old cars, plastic, and shifting sand.

Falcon's tyres grip the dark road. He pushes us forward as the batteries hum with only half their juice.

Driving through the lonely scenery, I can't help but sneak a look at the girl next to me.

I daydream about stuff I've never thought of before - holding hands, chatting, and getting to know each other.

Whenever she looks at me, I feel like there might be something going on, and I can't even look at her to avoid it getting weird.

I spot a sign that says "Route 95".

"This road also leads to Old York, the capital of the 51st State," she says. "We're getting closer."

"I've only heard stories or read about Old York, never been there myself. My parents taught me about its history and topography and warned me about that place," I say. "They also made me read a lot of books."

"It'd be nice to have more books to read," Emily muses.

"You can read?"

"Yeah, most in our Swifter colony could. My dad taught them. He's an amazing teacher," she replies.

"That's incredible. I wish... I..."

Memories of my parents come rushing back, and I get lost in thought.

"Wish for what?" Emily breaks through.

"Oh, nothing important," I reply. "You can read some books on my iPad, though."

"iPad? That black plastic screen thing? I can touch it now?"

"Haha... Yeah, it holds digital books. I have many comics, encyclopaedias, and even the Holy Bible."

"Wow. That's incredible.

"I think you'd enjoy them. It would be best if you charged it first. The cable is in the glove box."

Emily grabs the cable, sticks one end into the iPad, and hands me the other.

I stick it in Falcon's dash using his USB12 socket.

The screen shows a battery icon lighting up, showing that it is charging.

"Tell me more about Old York," she requests, deepening her breath.

"Well, it used to be a vast territory controlled by the Freaks and the United Social Republic, so I've read. One province in that area was Staten Island, a large USR stronghold within Old York. They even had their headquarters there," I say.

"Yeah, my parents also mentioned their HQ, but they never told me it was on Staten Island."

"To reach the island, you had to cross bridges. It used to be surrounded by water," I add.

"You're serious?" Emily's eyes widen.

"Yeah... I doubt you'll find much water there now."

"Probably not," she sighs. "Have you ever heard of their breeding chambers? It's not just about the women's flesh; it's-"

"I don't think I want to know," I interject, knowing she won't let it go.

"Yeah, the damned United Social Republic. They breed their babies in those chambers to sustain their population. And if they have too many, you know what happens, right?"

I can't help but cringe, and I know there's more to come.

"Women become food, or they're kept alive to birth more children," she continues. "Men get enslaved because they're strong. They find themselves stuck in a relentless pattern, obliged to toil in greenhouses, gardens, generators, and factories. A thriving, exploitative industry for the USR and the Freaks."

I hunch my shoulders and shake my head in disbelief. "They're sick. I heard about the women and children. Although, I never imagined it would be true."

"Yeah, they're totally nuts. Most enslaved people and so-called cattle resisted the urge to become cannibals. They'd rather go hungry than eat each other," Emily says.

"Free people. Swifters?"

"They caught most of them. The Swifters are the last ones standing. Many died."

"I was one of them... Everyone got killed, but I was lucky."

Blaze's face pops up in my mind, but Emily's voice pulls me away from those harsh memories.

"Wow... that's so rare," Emily whispers, then looks down and up again, her eyes shining. "Were you on a stealing crew?"

"Yup, I was," I mumble.

"When you were stealing, did you ever get to their fertile bits of land?"

"We only went there to steal when we were told to. Our aim was to steal water. Otherwise, we tried to stay away from those places as much as we could," I explain, remembering when we went into those dangerous territories with Blaze.

She nods, and then her eyes wander before coming back to me. "Why don't they eat vegetables themselves?"

I take a moment to think about her question. "You know... I read some files on animal attacks, and they seem connected. In the past, animal predators sometimes turned to eat humans. The cure was killing them. It's like a cycle-once someone consumes human flesh, they crave it. It's addictive, just like a drug. Sounds logical, right?"

Emily raises an eyebrow. "I don't know. It makes little sense."

I'm shrugging.

"Who knows what the nuclear war and chemical fallout did to us? It might have affected their brains and bodies in ways we can't comprehend," Emily says.

She's got a good point.

"My ancestors also experienced those wars, didn't they? I'm saying not everyone became a Freak. My people, the Swifters, have been doing great, just like you."

"My parents were Swifters, too," I confess.

"Really?" Her eyes grow wide. "What colony did they belong to?"

"I don't know. They left the group."

"Left the group? Why?"

"They wanted to make a home, you know, like they used to: a house, a tree, and a patch of land. We didn't have any pets or animals unless you counted me as the animal," I say and chuckle.

Emily laughs, and it's a beautiful sound. "It seems unbelievable. Please tell me more."

"They had no interest in wandering forever. If the Freaks could take care of their slaves and 'livestock,' my parents thought they could take care of each other and me. That's what they believed."

"That's pretty amazing and brave."

I give a brief nod. Her interest makes me want to share even more. "Surviving wasn't easy, but we managed once we had the supplies." I continue. "We were fine with our old house, garden, small greenhouse, and abandoned hangar. Despite not having much, our house was still cosy and practical. All the parts had a function, and we didn't have to steal. Everything we needed was right there. Sure, we had to leave home to stock up on fuel and stuff... Only on windy days."

"Wow, that's brilliant!" Emily exclaims.

"Yeah, you're right. I don't understand why Swifters don't live that way."

Emily frowns. "Being a Swifter is no joke. It's hard to stay on the move and not leave a trail, especially with a group. Plus, we all need some rest and fuel. Suppose there's no wind, tough luck hiding your tracks. Freaks can easily track you down. Plus, taking care of a big group is even more dangerous when you're not moving."

"You're probably right," I acknowledge.

"But I like your parents' philosophy... It all sounds amazing... living the old-school way," Emily muses, looking up at the sky via the Falcon's glass panoramic roof. "How did you get your food?"

"Yeah, it was awesome. Oh... a small patch of dark earth and a greenhouse provided us with food. We ate little and sometimes went hungry. Having variety was something we couldn't afford, but we made do with what we had," I say.

Emily gazes at me, and I can see the admiration in her eyes. "What did you grow?"

"Vegetables like kale and dates. Our meals were simple. My parents used to say that it's okay when you know nothing better. Making the best of what's available is the way to go."

She nods. "Yeah, I think they're right."

I steer the conversation back to her, eager to know more. "So, enough about me. What else would you like to do? After... you know, your parents."

Emily takes a moment, tapping her thigh. "Well, I haven't thought about it yet. I guess I'll figure it out when the time comes."

"So, how do you plan on saving your parents?""

"I'll figure it out as I go," she says with a smile. Then her expression shifts, and she remembers something. "Oh, wait... You're just dropping me off, right?"

"Let's find them first," I say.

Emily nods. "What do you want to do next?"

"You mean after we say goodbye?"

"Yeah. Where were you planning to go?" Emily leans in closer.

"To nothing special."

"Nothing special is like everywhere in this world. Where's that not-so-special place?"

"Well, I'm not sure," I mumble, pausing.

Her eyes try to meet mine.

Should I reveal my secret to her? Nah.

"After I drop you off, I'm going to a new destination," I say, sweat trickling down my back.

"Oh, where's that?" She sits up.

"To a place that's all about a brighter future," I say, trying not to babble.

"Everyone longs for that. Just tell me, where are you going?"

"Towards the East."

"The East?" She raises an eyebrow.

Dang it... I shouldn't have said that.

"What's so great about the East?" she asks. "Tell me."

"Nah."

"Why not?"

"I made a promise," I admit.

"To whom?"

Yup, I'm talking too much... again.

Better tell the truth; I've got nothing to lose now.

"To my parents and myself," I say.

"Oh, I see," Emily says, her furrowed brow revealing her partial understanding of my motivations.

I dig under my seat and pull out a worn-out photo of plants and ancestors I don't know. I give it to her, and she takes a look.

"This must be fake, right?" Emily says, her lips pressed into a thin line.

"My father believed it to be real in the Far East. He called it Eden," I explain. "He always had this photo in this car, wishing to visit that place someday."

"Eden... in the Far East? What did your father mean by that? Former Russia, Japan? This couldn't be real, right?"

"I'm not sure. All I know is that I must journey eastward. Mom told me, and I'm absolutely sure I'll find that spot. I mean, they spoke with so much passion; why wouldn't I trust what they said? They never lied to me."

"Hmm, I blabber on about stuff, sometimes even exaggerating," Emily says. "So, it's not necessarily the truth, you know."

"Maybe you're looking at it from a limited angle," I say.

"No, I'm not. Your parents told you stories and showed you a picture of greenery, and you've believed it all this time. That's what I call short-sighted."

"No, it's called hope!"

"Call it what you want. I think it's just a made-up story to keep you occupied," she concludes.

It breaks my heart to hear what she said.

I'm itching for revenge, but then I start to doubt it.

Could she be right? Was everything I thought I knew just a bunch of made-up stuff to make me feel better?

No way my parents would lie to me.

Seriously, who does she think she is? I should...

"I'm sorry," Emily interrupts my thoughts. It just seems too good to be true. Well, I... never mind. Sorry about that."

I wasn't expecting her apology.

"Uh, it's okay... I guess," I reply.

We're back to the silence. Even though I'm focused on driving, my hands can't hide my restlessness as they tap the wheel.

I want this tension between us to stop.

"Emily?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't believe you would lie to me about your parents," I say.

"Why do you think I would lie about that?" She shrugs and frowns.

"If you had lied about all this, it would mean you're crazy," I say with a small smile. "And I don't think you're crazy."

In a hushed tone, she admits, "Even though it may seem like I'm dishonest, I rarely lie. I only do it to protect or save my loved ones, disregarding the rule altogether."

"Okay," I say. "But you know... I find it hard to understand you. When it's quiet like this, I wonder, what is she thinking?"

"You don't need to know everything about me, do you?"

Yes... No... I wouldn't mind.

"No, of course not," I reply, my smile masking a hint of disappointment. "But I'm curious. What were you thinking about?"

She glances at me, shrugs, and then says, "Well, since we'll be in this car together for a while, getting to know each other better couldn't hurt, right?"

"I don't think so," I reply, and feel a slight tingling in my stomach.

Could I be getting all hyped up about getting to know her?

"I think about many things... the colony, my friends and family, and sometimes fun stuff," she shares.

"Fun stuff? Like what?"

"I enjoy giving people nicknames. It helps pass the time. Although, I wouldn't say them out loud like you did. That's too awkward. The best part is coming up with names for you," she adds, her grin widening.

A weird way to kill time.

I love playing music and singing along or having tedious conversations in my head. Okay, that conversation stuff in my head is weird.

Though I wonder, what names has she come up with for me?

"Oh, really? What would you call me then?" I ask.

"I call you a 'loser' at least ten times a day," she grins.

She indeed called me that.

"So, you think I'm a loser?"

"No, of course not. I wouldn't speak the truth if I thought so," Emily says with a soft laugh.

Well, that's a relief.

"So, what's my nickname?" I say, hoping for an honest answer.

"You don't have to know everything," Emily says with a gentle smile.

"Okay?" I say, folding my lips in. "What do you think of me, then?"

"I think you're quite n...." Emily's sentence stops, and her cheeks turn red. She glances at the photo and hands it back to me. "If it's real, I hope you find that place."

I smile and nod, hiding the photo under my seat again.

Emily stares outside.

We had a good time talking.

"Hey, that wasn't too bad, was it?" I say.

"What?" Emily asks, her gaze fixed on me.

"Our conversation."

Although she remains silent, her warm smile conveys everything.

____

Emily

He had me this close to saying things I didn't want to. It's true; our conversation just now was pleasant.

Our first encounter was a total disaster; our personalities didn't mix. Turns out, I got this boy all wrong. Little mister Nice Guy.

He's pretty charming. It's been a while since I've felt this at ease, and being with him isn't as terrible as I imagined.

Every now and then, our eyes lock when we're on the road. Our voices sound great with Falcon's music. And I can't help but notice a shift in our dynamic, like a fresh breeze that's making us feel more connected and excited.

But would he feel the same way?

No, he wouldn't.

I've been a jerk to him. Although I'm eager to learn more about him, it might be best to stay quiet for now.

Still, more questions keep popping up.

How did he acquire this car and those intriguing gadgets? How long has he been on his own?

If I open up, maybe he'll do it too. I can't stop listening to his stories. What am I thinking, and why am I feeling this?

Emily, pull yourself together. Do something different to clear your head.

This might be the perfect opportunity to steal a glance at his... what's it called again? Ah, yes... an iPad?

____

Hero

I look at Emily, who's completely absorbed in reading on my tablet.

The more her bruises fade, the more captivating she becomes.

I shake my head, attempting to clear my thoughts. "What are you reading?" I ask.

"Something about the last world war."

"What does it say?"

"It's... strange. It talks about the reason for the war," she begins and stares outside her window. "That humanity would cease to exist if we relied on fuel. It's ironic, considering how reliant we still are on them."

"Yeah, that's kinda strange," I say. "Lithium, just like oil, has its own set of problems. They didn't think that one through, huh?"

"No, they didn't." Her eyes return to the iPad. "I can see why the oil magnates resisted the switch."

"True, I remember that part. It was never about the environment; it was about money." I rub my fingers together, symbolising greed.

"Yeah, you're right." She sets the iPad down on her lap."Did the person who invented electronics expect a war like this?"

"I'm not sure," I say. "People were crazy back then, maybe not as crazy as they are today, but still crazy enough. They destroyed everything, killing for something as meaningless as money or even digital money."

"It's depressing." Emily sighs.

"And sickening," I add. "And now, here we are, trapped in this mess."

"Yeah, those dumbasses," Emily scoffs.

Emily leans back and folds her lips inward.

"What's up?"

Her gaze meets mine. "It all sounds so logical, it's... What's the word?"

"Mad?"

"Yeah, mad. I despise the Freaks and the USR so much," she says. "Yet... Never mind. USR... Have you ever seen someone from the USR? A real one?"

"Yes, I've encountered one before."

"Tell me."

"He differed from the Freaks," I start. "His face was smooth and lean, with no scars or tattoos. No trembles, either. His long, white hair matched the sclera colour in my eyes."

"Sclera?"

"The whites of our eyes," I explain. "And black, reflective armour covered him from head to toe."

"Such a difference from the Freaks."

I nod and get chills thinking about the encounter. "Despite that, I found him even scarier. He didn't look malnourished like the Freaks. The radiation seemed to have affected him differently. And his eyes..."

"What about his eyes?" she asks, leaning in.

"His irises were pitch black, as dark as the night itself. He didn't even seem alive; his countenance was so pale."

Emily's mouth falls open.

"When there are Freaks around, I already run fast," I add. "And when I ever encounter that USR warrior again, I'll run twice as fast."

"That sounds terrifying. I'll run with you," Emily says.

We share a chuckle, which makes me feel warm inside. It's like a wave of kindness and warmth that takes me back to when I'd chill with my parents on our old couch. And...

"Hey, Hero?"

Emily places the iPad on the dashboard.

"Uh... yeah?"

"Would you have helped me if we had met without fighting each other? Would you have taken me along? Maybe taken me to the East if it existed?"

Her question caught me off guard. I don't even know how to describe what I'm feeling.

"I... I wouldn't know," I respond, shrugging. "I have to find it first, and I don't know if it exists."

"You're right," she says, her eyes fixed on the horizon. "I just hope there's a paradise out there-a place where everyone can live without hunger or thirst, where people don't turn on each other."

"We all want that, don't we? Well, at least most of us," I reply.

She nods.

"By the way... I've noticed something."

"What is it?"

"You used the words' hope' and 'paradise' in the same sentence, just like me."

Emily laughs. "Yes, I did. Maybe you're not as crazy as I thought, or we're both losing our minds."

"No, I think you're fine," I say, a small smile gracing my lips. "By the way, would you like a drink? I also have some crow's eggs. The heat makes it easy to cook them on the hood."

"I can't say no to that," Emily replies.

I give her the bag of filtered pee, and she takes a sip, her mouth smirking.

"What?" I ask.

She pauses, her eyes locked with mine. "Oh, I thought I had already drunk too much," she quips.

I playfully nudge her shoulder and chuckle. She smiles, takes a few more sips, and puts the bag back.

Dang, she's gorgeous.

Come on, Hero, focus! She'll be gone after you've helped her.

"Shall we eat later?" Emily butts in, asking and breaking my train of thought.

"Yeah, cool, cool, cool," I reply, my voice flustered.

She wipes away some water from her upper lip with the tip of her tongue, and my heart skips a beat.

I've never felt my blood rushing like this.

"Hey, Hero?"

"Hello... I mean, yes?" I stumble.

"I'm still waiting for an answer to my original question. What would you have done?"

I try to figure out what she wants but can't find the answer.

"What do you mean?" I ask, my voice strained.

"I mean... Would you have helped me?"

Surprised, I reply, "Oh, yeah, sure. I would have picked you up."

She pauses, making my heart race even more. "Then I have to apologise for everything."

"Why apologise? I just picked you up, didn't I?" I say, attempting to hide my relief with a playful wink.

"Yeah, you did... in a strange way. I guess you're okay," she responds, a modest smile gracing her lips.

Thank goodness... I'm okay? What does that even mean?

I ponder, trying to make sense of my own emotions.

Before I can voice my thoughts, Emily turns away, presenting me with a view of her beautiful backside.

Concentrate, Hero! COME ON!

The road demands my focus, and I must navigate us through whatever challenges await.

Okay? I'm okay?