Hero

It's been a few years now since I joined the convoy.

MSG... Move, Steal, Go; The way of the Swifter.

Life is fairly simple. Blaze and I train daily, working on my skills and getting smarter.

When I'm not training, I work on cars or just hang out in Falcon, drawing on my maps and reading about how the world got so messed up, just to kill some time.

Going on stealing missions hasn't changed either. We take pride in consistently being the best, ensuring that we always return with the requested amount of water and sometimes even more. Our caravan always gets excited when we return.

Speaking of people, unfamiliar faces are always popping in and out. However, most of them stayed, making our caravan grow weekly.

For some reason, no one my age has joined our group.

Each night, Blaze and I and a few other mechanics come together around a fire. We talk, joke and share our days... Again, nothing special.

Today is no different.

Blaze and I hang out by the fire with a couple of guys. He suggests lightening the mood by discussing our dreams and ideas of paradise.

I sit back and ponder on this for a bit. "I guess... I'd love a place with green fields, clean water, and trees as far as the eye can see. Somewhere safe, where we don't have to look over our shoulders all the time. My parents often talked about such places."

Blaze nods. "Yeah, that sounds pretty good. For me, paradise is a place where people can be together without all this fear and fighting. A place to build lasting things."

Others around the campfire join the conversation. We all have the same dreams of going back to a simpler, safer time.

Blaze gives me a sly grin. "Speaking of being together... Have you ever thought about girls, Hero?"

"Girls?" I repeat, feeling a blush creep up my neck. "Not really. I mean... when could I? Well... I don't know. I never saw someone my age here, either."

Blaze chuckles, eyeing the faces around the fire. "That's a bummer... But when the time comes, my young friend... Go for it. Survival doesn't mean you can't enjoy some of life's pleasures. Even in this wasteland, people connect."

I raise an eyebrow. "Connect? How?"

Blaze leans in, his voice low. "Dating, my boy, it's quite an adventure."

I glance at Blaze, frowning. "You've been on dates in all this chaos?"

"Oh, more than you'd think. It isn't easy, but sometimes, a little companionship keeps us going in a world like this. You just have to be careful, you know? Girls are tough creatures."

The idea of dating in the wastelands seems surreal.

"So, Hero, ever felt a flutter in your belly?"

I scrunch up my face, trying to figure out these weird feelings. "Flutter? I don't think so. I've never talked to a girl before in my life. I only lived with my parents. They were Swifters, but they left them before I was born. So I only saw them from afar when we had to get supplies and stuff from some trading caravans, you know."

Blaze pats my shoulder. "Well, my friend, one day you might. Love conquers all, you know. Just remember, it's okay to find joy amidst the chaos."

I nod and purse my lips, but honestly, I have no idea what he's talking about.

As the conversation shifts back to tales of survival, I find my thoughts lingering on Blaze's words. The whole romance thing is kind of new to me, but I'm feeling a bit curious about it.

Would I want that?

"Hero?"

"Yeah, Blaze."

"You're a big kid now. You can do it." He winks at me.

I guess I am.

____

A few days have passed.

Bustling activity surrounds me, and I can still smell the remnants of yesterday's campfire.

I'm walking through the maze of tents, trying to find something to eat. A burst of vibrant colours catches my attention.

I spot a girl about my age going through a pile of fabrics.

"Hey," I say, voice cracking a bit.

She stops what she's doing and looks up. Her red curls frame her face, while a scattering of freckles on her sun-kissed cheeks adds a touch of whimsy. I just can't look away from her stunning blue eyes.

"Morning," she says, sitting behind an old rusty sewing machine.

"Making some kind of dress?"

She glances down at her work. "Yeah. We have to make do with what we find out here."

"You gotta admit, the wasteland is like a fashion school for scavengers, right?" I try to break the ice.

She chuckles. "Something like that."

"I've been, you know, wandering around these parts for a while. I've seen a lot of, um, interesting outfits, but yours is, like, unique."

She glances up from her work, frowning. "Unique? Is that good or bad?"

"No, no, definitely good! I mean, unique in a good way. Like..."

"Like what?"

"Like standing out?" I force a smile and think I saved the conversation for a second. However, she returns to her tasks, and the silence continues like an awkward chasm.

"Well, anyway, I'll leave you to your... patchwork masterpiece. It was nice talking to you."

She nods, and I awkwardly back away.

Why is it an issue to be one-of-a-kind?

____

I make my way through the maze of tents, carrying canned food, and find Blaze sitting next to Falcon, casually sipping from a plastic cup.

He glances up as I approach, a knowing smirk on his lips.

"Look who's back!" he says. "Found some food, I see."

"Yeah."

"And?" Blaze asks, high-pitched.

"What? Oh, just some canned peaches. And I... I met someone, too."

"Who was it?"

I plop down next to him, rubbing my neck. "Well, there was this girl, you know? A Swifter, I think. She was making this outfit out of a hundred different fabrics."

Blaze chuckles, his eyes glinting with amusement. "So, what's the story? Did you charm her with your dazzling conversation skills?"

I roll my eyes. "Not exactly. I tried to compliment her. At first, I thought, okay... Instead, it got awkward real fast."

"Women, hah," Blaze grins, setting his cup down. "Alright, little brother, listen up. First thing, be confident. Confidence is attractive. Even if you don't feel it, fake it till you make it."

I nod, taking mental notes. "Okay, confidence. Got it. What else?"

"Eye contact," Blaze continues. "Don't stare like you're sizing up prey—just enough to show you're engaged. And humour, my friend. A good laugh can break any tension."

I furrow my brow. "Humour?"

Blaze laughs. "A good joke can do wonders. Want to hear one?"

"Sure."

Blaze leans in with a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. "Why did the boy bring a ladder to the bar?"

I shake my head and shrug.

"Because he heard the drinks were on the house!" Blaze cracks up, and I can't help but laugh, too, even though I don't get it.

"You're not serious, are you? I can't imagine telling a girl a joke like that."

Blaze gives me a friendly slap on the back, still laughing. "Hey, it's all about breaking the ice, my friend. Lighten the mood, and you're halfway there."

Yeah, I tried that breaking-the-ice move already.

"I'm not sure about all this."

He gives me a friendly pat on the back. "Hey, connecting with people, especially in this world, is about finding common ground. And sometimes, a good laugh is the best way to kick things off."

I glance back toward where the Swifter girl was working.

Even though it's somewhat weird, Blaze's advice makes sense.

He nudges me and smirks. "So, ready to be a man?"

I laugh, not really sure, but willing to try. "Yeah, I guess I am."

"You guess? Ever know why we're called the Swifters?"

"No, I never cared."

"It's in the word. You know... Swift."

"Like in quick?"

"Yeah... Act quickly. Just like the Swifters do with moving. When it's time to act, you do it swiftly."

"What do you mean?"

"Never mind. Haha, you'll figure it out."

____

It's been a few days since I started looking for the girl.

Then, my gaze falls upon a striking sight. The girl in a unique handmade dress stands next to a makeshift tent.

She used all kinds of patches. Each piece has its own colour and pattern, all sewn together. The dress has vibrant reds, blues, and yellows.

Some patches even have flower patterns, while others have stripes or dots.

"Hey," I say.

The girl turns around, making her dress flutter and follow her movement.

Her red curls bounce, making her stand out like a rainbow.

I swallow hard.

She lights up when she spots me, and a playful grin appears.

"Well, look who's here," she says. "Unique enough for you?"

A grin tugs at my lips. "Yeah, unique suits you."

The girl chuckles. "Unique, huh? Well, it's better than boring, right?"

I nod.

"Come with me?"

"Uh... okay."

I wonder what she is up to.

We come across a quiet corner while among the tents. The sun dips below the horizon, casting shadows between and on the tents. "You have a knack for turning trash into art," I joke with a hint of truth, gesturing to her creation.

"It's all about finding beauty in the scraps. Making the best of what we have."

She's right.

"I'm Hero, by the way," I offer my hand.

"Elara," she replies, shaking it. "How long have you been with this group?"

"About two or three years, maybe even longer," I say. "Blaze took me in. He taught me everything I know."

With her gaze lingering on the horizon, Elara nods. "Blaze is the tall guy, right? He seems dependable."

"He is," I confirm. "What about you? How did you end up here?"

She sighs. "My family and I were on our own for a long time. My parents... they didn't make it. Having no one around, I wandered for a while before stumbling upon another group. We were together for about a year. It was hard. Lots of... losses. After some months, Freaks ambushed us. Out of everyone, I'm the only one who survived and made it out. I've only been here for two weeks.

"I'm sorry," I say. "It's tough losing people."

While nodding, Elara's expression briefly hardens before softening once more. "It is. This world made me grow up so fast."

"I get ya. It's a harsh place, but we adapt."

"I guess we do. You know... It's weird we never crossed paths."

I chuckle. "Yeah, I'm not that great with meeting people."

"Neither am I," Elara says. "Everyone keeps dying."

"I know what you mean."

"Well... Do you ever think about what life was like before all this? Before the world fell apart?"

"Sometimes," I admit. "I read some stuff about it. Can't imagine a world like that. What about you?"

"Yeah," she says. "I only heard stories. Then, I fantasise about greenery and water. It's too good to be true."

"Sometimes it's hard to believe there was ever a world that wasn't like this."

Though Elara smiles, there is something off about it... Like she's sad or something. "It's nice, though, talking to someone who gets it."

"Yeah," I reply, staring at the ground.

Then Elara shares her vision of a fantastical paradise untouched by crazy folk, where laughter echoes through vibrant green landscapes and resurrects her family and friends, making me hopeful again.

"It sounds amazing," I admit.

"Dreams keep us going. What's your dream?"

I hesitate, my thoughts drifting to the secrets in the Far East. Instead, I redirect the conversation.

"Well, I have Falcon," I say. "It's an electric car with solar-panelled sails. My Dad and I fixed him up."

Elara's eyes widen with fascination. "Falcon, huh? That sounds incredible. It sounds like a mix of the past and the future. Tell me more about it."

And so, under the canvas of the fading sunset, I share the story of Falcon—the silent hum of its electric engine, the sails catching the sun's rays, and how I worked on it with my Dad.

As night falls, our conversation shifts from our dreams and past to the present.

With the firelight making shadows dance on our faces, the camp sounds disappear, leaving Elara and me in our little world.

"Did you ever have any brothers or sisters?"

"No, I was the only kid my parents had. And you?"

Elara's eyes get watery. "Yeah, I had two brothers. They're all gone."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay. You couldn't know."

I breathe in cool air, then exhale through my nostrils.

"They were very protective," Elara continues.

"My Mum was like that, too. She always worried about us."

Elara chuckles. "Guess that's what family's for."

"Yeah... Mom and Dad often fought about that stuff."

"Seems they had a strong connection."

"Yeah, they had." While I stare in the distance, my mind drifts to them at home.

"Do you ever think about connecting with someone out here?" Elara asks.

I nod, pondering her question. "Yeah, I do... For a couple of days now. It's hard, though. Putting up walls is like a way to protect ourselves from getting hurt. So this is quite new for me, and I'm quite scared to connect because you could lose it all in an instant."

Elara leans forward, her eyes searching mine. "Don't you think letting those walls down sometimes is important? To trust someone, even if it's risky?"

"I think so," I say, meeting her eyes. "Blaze and I have each other's backs. He's like a big brother. With a girl... of my age... I don't know; it feels more dangerous, like there's more to lose."

She smiles. "Opening up to someone who shares similar struggles can intimidate, but also good because they understand."

Warmth spreads through my chest.

Elara shifts closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I haven't had that in a long time. Most people I meet either shut me out or are so broken they can't connect anymore. But... with you... I don't know; it feels different. Easier, somehow."

I feel my heart rate quicken.

She reaches out, her hand finding mine. Like a cosy embrace, her touch brings warmth to my soul. "Maybe that's what we need to hold on to. Each other. Maybe we can help each other keep going, stay human, even when everything else seems to fall apart."

I don't know what to say.

"We can watch each other's backs and share the load. And maybe we can find some happiness in all this chaos."

With the fire crackling and the night growing deeper, we remain seated, our hands clasped together. Even though we touch, I can't understand what's happening or what we're doing.

But it's okay.

For the first time in a long time, I believe that maybe, just maybe, things will turn out better.

____

Under the scorching sun, I come across Blaze near a burnt-out car. I can't wait to share the news about Elara.

"Blaze, you won't believe what happened yesterday!"

He looks up. "What got you so worked up?"

I recount the encounter with Elara.

"Nice! So, did you go for the kiss?"

I shake my head, feeling a flush rise to my cheeks. "Kiss? No, we just talked. I don't know... kissing?"

Blaze leans against the wreckage. "Kissing... A little bit of love, don't you know? A complicated thing. My parents—they were madly in love. I've seen it, felt it. It's like a fire."

"Like a fire?" I ask, frowning. "I mean, I've heard about it and also saw it with my parents, but I don't understand."

As Blaze thinks back, his eyes go distant. "Love is hard to explain. There's a powerful pull that words can't describe. My parents would do anything for each other. It was as if they intertwined their souls."

"My parents had that chemistry, too, I think. Have you ever felt that kind of love?"

He sighs. "Honestly, little brother, I've dated... Yet, that deep, soul-stirring connection? Nope. People say it's the strongest feeling in the world, that you'd give everything for it."

"So, what about Elara? Should I wait for that feeling to grow, or is it just not there?" I ask. "I like being with her... but I don't know about that fire, though."

Blaze shrugs, offering a comforting smile. "Love is a tricky thing. Sometimes it blooms. If Elara doesn't make you feel that now, it doesn't mean it won't happen. Just take your time."

He leans closer. "My mother used to say, 'When the inside is rotten, it will soon show on the outside.' If not... Count yourself very lucky."

"Lucky?"

"You'll figure it out."

I hope so.

____

It's morning.

Elara and I search for fabrics as we venture into the maze of Swifters' tents. The air is thick with the scent of dust as we weave through the makeshift structures.

She collects fabric scraps, and I follow suit. Whenever my hands brush against hers, I feel a warmth inside me.

Is this what Blaze means?

We walk further and get greeted by almost every person we pass.

Unfolding like a series of encounters in an unpredictable story, the conversations with Swifters take place.

"Hey, Elara! Got yourself a new sidekick?" With a bandana wrapped around his head, a Swifter smirks as he approaches.

Elara grins. "This is Hero. He's not; he's just helping me out today."

"Helping, huh? Are you sure he's not more than that? He looks like a boyfriend to me."

I feel a sudden heat rise to my cheeks.

Elara's laughter echoes through the air, sounding light and carefree. "Nope, just a friend. We're on a mission for fabrics, not romance."

When Elara's eyes meet mine, my body freezes.

The Swifter chuckles, nods approvingly, and releases me from her spell. "Alright then, Hero. Watch out for this one; she's got a knack for getting people to do stuff for her."

I guess I'm already her victim.

As we move through the camp, the encounters continue. An elderly Swifter approaches us. "Elara, who's this young lad you've got with you today?"

"Hero, meet Old Man Griggs. He's one of the wise ones around here."

I offer a nod. "Nice to meet you, sir."

Old Man Griggs chuckles, the lines on his face shifting like ripples in the sand. "No need for formalities, lad."

"Alright, Mr. Griggs," I reply.

"Mr. Griggs, Hero, and I are on a fabric-gathering mission today. Is there anything specific you'd recommend?"

Griggs strokes his long, white beard, eyes twinkling.

"Fabrics, eh? It reminds me of when clothes weren't just patches stitched together. Back then, people used to wear garments made entirely from a single material, as my ancestors would say. Just like your coat, young man. Beautiful."

"Thanks, it was my father's."

"Anyway," Elara says, tapping her foot.

Mr. Griggs points to a distant pile of rubble. "Over there, near the fallen billboard, there's Rocco. You might find remnants of an old textile factory. You could stumble upon some intact pieces if you're lucky."

Gratefully, we make our way to the suggested location.

Our last encounter is with a Swifter who points in all directions with a mischievous grin and spiked black hair. "Elara, you've got a strong-looking helper today. Is he as tough as he looks?"

Elara winks at me. "Oh, he's tough, alright. Hero, meet Rocco. He fancies himself the fastest scavenger in the wasteland."

Rocco eyes me, sizing me up. "Think you can keep up, Hero?"

I meet his challenge with a confident nod. "I can hold my own."

With that, our competition begins. Collecting fabrics with a sense of camaraderie, we race through the debris-strewn paths, filling the air with laughter and shouts.

The sun dips below the horizon, casting an amber glow across the dunes.

Elara and I wrap up our day scavenging.

I slung the bag filled with a patchwork of fabrics over my shoulder.

Elara looks at the sky. "That's it. Thanks for your help."

I nod. "No problem. It was... kinda fun."

She grins. "You're not bad company, Hero."

"Thanks."

Elara turns to me. "See you around."

"See you around, Elara."

As she walks away, I'm left standing in the fading light.

It's then that I realise I haven't felt this way since home was more than a distant memory.

Elara and I had some casual conversations these past few days, and I'm really getting into those moments with her. Today will be no different. We've decided to meet up again.

Elara finds me by the edge of camp after rummaging through the Swifters' tents for fabric. The sky looks so cool with orange and purple streaks as the sun goes down. As if everything is on fire.

"Hey."

"Hey, Elara."

"What are the plans for today?"

I kick a small rock away that stood out because of its size. "I don't know... Maybe check out the market again? I need some stuff for Falcon."

Elare comes closer, her dress flapping in the wind.

"You know, you've been talking a lot about Falcon," she says. Her lips curve into a small smile. "I think it's time I see this legendary car for myself."

I grin. "You want to see Falcon, huh?"

She nods.

"Follow me."

We walk through the camp until we reach a weathered tarp covering my car.

"Check this out," I say.

I pull the tarp back to reveal Falcon—sleek, matte, sandy-coloured bodywork.

The sunlight catches on the polished surface.

Elara's blue eyes widen. "Wow," she breathes, stepping closer. "You weren't kidding. It's like something out of a dream."

I chuckle. "Yeah, my Dad and I worked on it for years. It's fast, quiet, and runs purely on solar."

"How?"

"Solar-powered sails."

"What?"

"They're attached at the bottom and can be used as sails to sail the plains and charge the batteries."

Her fingers glide over the hood. "You said you fixed it up with your dad?"

"Yeah." I nod. "He taught me everything I know about machines, cars... survival, really. We built Falcon together before..." My voice fades away, and I feel the familiar heaviness of loss in my chest.

Elara steps closer. "I'm sorry."

"Thanks," I say quietly.

Her head tilts toward the driver's seat, and a mischievous sparkle dances in her eyes. "So... can we take it for a spin?"

I smile. "Sure, why not?"

We jump in the car, and the electric engine starts purring as I start it.

The dashboard glows with a cool blue light and the sleek interior hums with the machine's smooth power.

I'm driving Falcon through the camp, starting off slow and then picking up speed as we head out into the open wasteland.

The scenery zooms by, and the wind whips through the windows, making Elara's red curls dance. She looks over at me. "This thing is incredible!"

I glance at her, feeling a sense of pride.

For a few minutes, we drive in silence.

Then Elara shifts in her seat with a smirk on her face. "Hero?"

"Yeah?"

"Have you ever played the nervous game before?"

"Nervous game? Nah."

She leans closer. "It's simple. I get closer to you, and you tell me if you're nervous."

My heart skips a beat. "Okay. Well... I don't know."

"Come on," she says. "It's just a game."

Before I can answer, she moves closer and leans on the console. "Feeling nervous yet?" she asks, her tone playful.

I struggle to concentrate as my palms get sweaty on the steering wheel. "Nope."

She leans in a bit more. Her shoulder presses against mine. "How about now?"

My heart pounds in my chest. I force a laugh. "Still good."

She moves even closer, her breath brushing against my ear as she leans in to whisper, her lips almost touching. "And now? Are you nervous?"

I feel a shiver down my spine, and I can't help but jerk the wheel a bit, causing the car to swerve.

Swiftly, I take back control, bring the car to a stop, and sense my face tingling.

"Okay," I blurt out, "now I'm nervous."

Elara pulls back. "Oh, Hero, I didn't mean to... I."

Her voice shakes, no longer playful but genuinely worried. "I didn't want to make you uncomfortable."

"No. It's not that, I just... I've never really, you know, been close to someone like this."

Looking down, she twiddles with the fabric of her dress. "I didn't mean to push you. I just thought..." She trails off, then gives me a small smile. "I'll give you some space."

Before I can say anything, she opens the door and steps out of the car. The cool evening air rushes in as she stands beside Falcon.

I get out of the car and stand by the door.

What should I say? This is so awkward.

"I'm sorry."

She looks up at me, her blue eyes searching mine for a moment. Then she gives me a small, understanding nod. "It's okay. I get it. It's just... that things are so uncertain, you know? And I guess I wanted to feel close to someone. Even for a little while."

I realise that maybe she's just as scared and unsure as I am.

I take a step closer to her.

She looks up at me, her expression softening.

"You don't have to force anything, Hero. I don't want you to feel like you have to."

A small smile tugs at her lips. "We've got time. No rush."

She then steps back toward the car, leaning against it. "You're a good guy, Hero. I'm glad we met."

I smile. "Yeah, me too."

We stay there a little longer.

The wind gently pulls at our clothes as we watch the sun go down.

The game freaked me out. But there's a part of me that liked it somehow. It has made me curious.

The day is ending, and it's time to go.

Elara, you make me feel good about my future in this wasteland, and I want to explore these feelings even more.