Rising Dusk : Entry for Deep Signal Flash Fiction Contest February 2018

Kimya hasn't slept all day. That hammering, constant in its discord, the jarring sound fraying her nerves, compounding the disquiet left by the flyers. She has gone through all the motions, spread her blanket on a patch of clear ground, curled under the mosquito net and closed her eyes to block out the bright sun. But now the day is over, her shins still ache, her mind is still clouded, overall she feels less rested now than when she stretched out to sleep.

She hears Jay whistling. His soft whistle signals the sun is finally setting, the air should soon be cool enough and the shadows long enough to make travelling possible, and in theory a little safer. Kimya whistles back as she rises, already dressed, she rolls away her bedding. She scrambles up to the nest Jay has carved out in the rubble. From his perch she tightens the strapping that holds her boots closed and she looks down at their friends grumbling as they wake.

“Did a great a plan come to you in your dreams?” Jay offers her a drink as she sits.

Kimya takes the bottle, allowing the cool water to linger on her parched lips. “Nope. See anything of note out there?” she asks.
“What? Other than a burning City and the fact that at least two groups of someones still have resources to waste throwing bombs at each other from who knows how far away…? No. Just the usual. Mosquitoes and mud, plus some more mosquitoes,” Jay replies.
The staccato pounding begins again. Kimya thought it was gunfire. Only her sister Deenie recognised it for what it was, a pneumatic hammer smashing away amongst the fallen concrete. Kimya looks in the direction of the burning City, a mound of detritus obscures it from her view, thick black smoke rising up giving the heap the appearance of a glowing volcano. “I still think we should go there and offer to help,” she says, “We help sift through the rubble, cart some water for the flames. My bet is they still have heaps of water and food safely locked away in there, we go help them and they'll owe us.”

“Doubt they'll give us water or food you dringle. They'll probably just give us five bullets, one for each of us. A drone flyer just blew up half their town before they managed to get their own flyer up and into the sky. Aren't going to see us as anything but the hungry rats we are, coming looking for scraps, or worse, as friends of whoever it is that just tried to kill them.”

Kimya, Jay and the others had only glimpsed the City briefly as it emerged from the mist, its hulking form rising from the river's far bank. The City's walls and towers of a scale only talked about as legend by the village elders. The group had been working out how best to cross the river, to build a boat or just wade across the silted waters – when everything changed.

The flyer had flown low and fast following the river, wings level with the bank, throwing water skyward like knives of mist obscuring its silver form. Kimya stood there. Stock still, eyes glued to the attack drone as it approached. Jay dragged her off her feet and down into the mud. Kimya's eyes stayed locked on the aircraft as she fell, tracking the flyer as it performed a graceful looping curve, bombs erupting behind the City's thick walls. She watched as the shock-waves rippled outwards making the heavy concrete of the city heave like the chest of a wounded animal.

The flyer soared up, a lazy roll to bring it around for a second strike. The City had been unwilling to die so easily, a defensive flyer shot up from within the clouds of dust and smoke, nose cannons barking as it pounced.

The bomber's jet engines screamed as it tried to escape the guns of the defending flyer, futilely twisting to evade the defensive drone. For all the roar of its engines, for all the destructive power of its bombs, it had crumpled like a desiccated leaf. A flash and then the engines belched smoke as it spiralled over their heads before slamming into the earth.

So strange. So alien. So far and yet so close. Only when Kimya smelt the charred sting on the breeze and heard the echoes of the voices from within the City did it sink in how real and how close the destruction was.

Then the group argued. Approach the city or try to find the wreck of the bomber? They divided along predictable lines. Deenie, as always, sided with Kimya. The city was the reason they travelled so far, why turn away now? Ward, cautious and practical agreed with Jay, the bomberwas on their side of the river not far from here. Surely no matter how smashed it was it still contained treasures enough to justify the trip? Col, the perpetual pessimist, voted they just run far far away from the whole mess. Reminding them once again that the legends of the luxurious cities were also tales of destruction and death, nightmare tales of a world that fed the flames of hatred and greed till there remained nothing but ashes and ghosts. In the end, tired and angry, the only consensus they could find was to camp and wait till the cool of dusk before continuing the debate.

Now Jay is looking to Kimya for a decision. Her thoughts gathered, she suggests a compromise, “Why don't we split? Me and Deenie swim across, go take a close look at the city. If it seems safe we'll offer to help, find out what we can, looks too dangerous and we'll slip away. You and the others can go find the flyer. See what metals you can strip, bury what you can here and we'll signal you if the city is safe for you to come over.”

Jay looks at Kimya, then glances in the direction of the city and then back to where they believe the flyer must be. “We do this, and you never return, never signal, then what? I go back to the village and tell your Mum and Dad, 'Hey sorry, we found the City, but you know, it was on fire when we got there so we just sent Kimya and Deenie into the inferno while we played it safe?'”
Kimya goes to speak but Jay cuts her off and continues, his eyes set deeper and harder than Kimya remembers ever seeing them before. “No. I go too or you don't go. I'm not afraid of dying, I'm afraid of you dying. We will ask the others, those that want to play it safe and sensible can go find the wreckage and then head home. If any are stupid enough that they want to take the risk with us, we can wade across the river together.”

Kimya wants to argue, to tell Jay he is only offering to come because he feels a debt to her family. She wants to be brave, to be noble, to insist Jay do what's safe and take the others home while she approaches the city alone. To tell him he owes them nothing, that any kindness shown to him as a child has been repaid double-fold or more.

She wants to be sane, sensible, a mirror of her parents and lead the others homeward herself. To gather the others in the village and return here when the City isn't in the midst of being reduced to smouldering ash and twisted steel.

She can feel Jay's gaze upon her, his eyes searching for a clue as to which way her will will carry them. The decision is hers, she can see in the way he holds his shoulders he will not oppose her despite his reservations. She sees both the strength and the worry in his eyes.
Kimya finally looks to Jay, “You can't stop me and I'm not going to stop you. We'll swim across. You and me, Deenie if she still wants to come. The other two can find the wreck and head home. They can return home and tell others to come and wait here. If the City is safe we'll find a way to raise a flag on the wall and they can join us. If it isn't they can warn the Village and make sure the next move is as far from this river as possible.”

“I have a bad feeling about this” Jay says looking across the water to the City, the flames now visible against the darkening sky.
“I had a bad feeling about you when Mum caught you in that snare.” Kimya smiles, she pulls Jay closer and her hands caress his shaven scalp, “Sometimes bad feelings are just good omens.”