Fire Meets Gasoline

By Rukhsar Shafi

The world burned bright, fire dancing in it’s swansong, while a girl travelled on a picturesque overpass through the falling ashes. The war was at it’s crescendo. Broken bottles and muddled pools of water filled with the bloodlust of greed surrounded her vicinity. She dragged her vintage suitcase behind her with headphones over her head blasting the songs of the past, she muted the chaos around her.

A month.

It had just been a month since the fights broke out. Calamities of power plagued her small town. The people she once knew now wrecked havoc on the streets. The place she once knew now no longer existed.

She walked a rocky road leaving behind her history, hoping to find salvation. Hoping to find a new haven. But the brutality had spread like wildfire, engulfing everything and everyone in it’s dome that nothing seemed the same as before.

But she knew her route. She knew her path that might lead her to safety. Though she only hoped that it hadn’t crumbled under like a house of cards. The passage within the grove was safe. She knew that. And she knew no one else knew of that road too. Because it was paved by her mother for her family before she was consumed by the raging fire.

She had travelled for days with just limited rations to support her. She needed rest. The heavy bag on her shoulder that carried her life, weighed her down and the fatigue began to overwhelm her. Putting down the bags, she rested below the largest tree she could find, away from the road, away from the sight.

Pulling the back-bag toward her, she took out the last remnants of her food. Slight mold had began to cover the surface of the once soft loaf of bread. Picking at just the top, she carefully removed and threw the mold and devoured half of it. As she put away the leftover bits, her stomach rumbled painfully. She slowly patted her belly, drinking the last drop of water in her bottle. She sighed heavily.

“Need to get water,” she said, her voice low and hoarse. She pulled out a map that had mapped out her path to her new home. She searched for a watering hole that hadn’t yet been contaminated or dried out. She exhaled sharply when she realized the only well nearby was the one she had just passed.

She closed her eyes and rested her head back against the rough bark of the tree. The well hadn’t been contaminated neither was it completely dried up. However, the town was beyond redemption. She needed to wait for the bewitching hour to sneak up the water from the well. Till then she had to plan. A plan to how to enter and exit from the town without awakening the wicked lurking in the shadows.

She saw gleaming lights of her watch that read the later afternoon time. She had seven hours till she could pull her heist. She chuckled internally at the thought of doing something so silly. A robbery of water was something she hadn’t thought she would ever had to do. It was a necessity, something that was easily found in stores with just quick exchange of money. She quickly set an alarm for an hour to grab a quick nap so as to gain energy for her little stunt later in the night.

An hour passed quickly than she hoped and she woke up with a jolt when the alarm vibrated on her wrist. She blinked her eyes to tear away the remains of her sleep. She grabbed the map again and thoroughly learned the strong and weak points of the town.

The well was situated in the south-west part of the town, hidden away from the main square but it was well-into the territory of Bestials, a group of savage humans that had forgotten the ways of the man and had reverted back to their primitive age. They ran a small fight club, pitting the homeless and futile humans against each other. The losers were then prepped for their banquet. They consumed the flesh and drank their blood.

As the darkness grew, she was glad for the new moon. The night was darker than usual. She wore her night-vision goggles as she wouldn’t be able to use her handy flashlight near the town. She crept back on the sandy path, making her way back to the forsaken town. She had memorized the path, even though it was a dangerous route. She knew it was the only way for her to make it to the well without coming under the Bestial radar.

Hopping over the stony mounds, she carefully descended on a soft patch of grass. Her slippers hung at the side of her backpack that she had left back in her camp in the forest. Keeping low, she treaded carefully toward the Bestial compound. Her back to the wall, she inspected the area. Two Bestial guards stood near the entrance of the well. She picked up a rather large stone and flung it across the compound. It clunked loudly against the asbestos sheet that had been wrapped around a tree. The guards looked at each other before heading toward the noise.

The girl hastened her pace and walked closer to the entrance of the well. It wasn’t her time yet. She needed a bigger diversion for her to make a swift entry and exit without being detected. She grabbed the dynamite she had stolen from an abandoned warehouse and lit it on fire. She threw it on the other side of the compound. As it burst, loud noises from within the compound could be heard. The girl knew this was her only chance.

She jogged toward the well and climbed over the wall. She landed heavily on the other side but she didn’t have the time to waste to ponder over her minor injury. She hurried towards the well and was glad to find an empty bucket over the edge. She anxiously drew down the bucket with the pulley and heard it make a soft splash as it touched the surface of the water. Quickly pulling it up, she was glad that the guards hadn’t returned to their post yet. She needed to hurry. Time was running out.

She pulled the bucket towards her and brought her empty bottle in front. She conscientiously poured the water when she felt the cold touch of a blade against her neck.

“Look who we have here?” A sinister voice spoke. The girl looked up and found a gnarly man with crooked teeth grin down at her. Grabbing her collar, the man pulled her up. The bucket crashing on the ground, splintering it slightly, and the bottle toppled over, wasting away it’s contents.

The girl found herself in the middle a huge, dusty room, filled with the smell of blood and sweat. A throne-like chair sat at one end of the room upon a large platform. Torches alit with fire stood around the room and metal chains hung from the broken trusses. Complete silence scared her.

A loud roar echoed throughout the room and the steel collapsible gate opened wide. A man wearing a dark brown T-shirt and and black cargo pants walked inside with two German shepherds on either side of him. But what caught the eye was the gore-stained white leather jacket adorned over his shoulders. The smell emanating from it almost choked the girl. It was strong and horrendously foul.

The man cocked his head to the side and stared at the girl with dead eyes. A group of men walked from behind him and slowly took their place off the stage and around her. The girl began to hear faint noises of footsteps approaching the arena. It was going to begin.

“We have a volunteer for the first time in Bestial history. I’m sure you’re going to taste as appetizing as you look,” said the man, taking his place on the throne. “What is your name, girl?”

“Isn’t it bad manners to ask one’s name without revealing your own?” The girl stated smartly.

The man quirked up a smirk and the girl noticed the crinkling of the scar across his face. He didn’t look just dangerous, he looked lethal.

“The name is Zion. The High King of Bestials.”

The girl had heard the name before. The name that made every survivor shiver in their skin. He was once a nameless man who began terrorizing the East and began his cannibalistic cult. He was also known as the Skeletal Man, the one who would just leave behind the bones of the corpses.

The man stared at her with vile thoughts, his fingers softly tapping the side arm of his throne. “I’m waiting for a name.”

Bile rose up in her throat. “Shift,” she revealed.

Zion grinned, sliding his tongue over his set of spiky teeth. “Bring out the opposer.”

A wooden gate at the corner opened wide and a boy walked out. Scars marred the right side of the face but overall he looked normal. He had a large build like a rugby player and his gait hadn’t been disabled.

How had the Bestials capture such a man? Had they used weapons on him? Shift wondered furiously. As the boy looked up, Shift gasped. How had he...?

A horn boomed as the spectators gathered around to watch a thrilling fight of life and death. Clinking noises of hands banging against metal gates echoed, agitating Shift. She couldn’t fight against the boy in front of her. But the boy instead winked.

He leaped at her, pushing her down on the ground. Shift raised her arms to protect herself from the incoming assault. A jab straight to her bones. Shift grimaced in pain. She wrapped her legs around the boy and flipped him to the side.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Shift whispered.

“Keep pretending, Shift! Now isn’t the time to dwell upon this.” The boy pushed her chest with the heel of his palm. Springing back in a crouch, the boy reached out to swipe Shift’s leg but Shift was quick. She jumped back. She raised her leg to kick the boy but he grabbed her leg and smacked the back of her knee.

Shift growled in pain as she fell to her knees. She couldn’t give up. If she lost there, she would be toast. And quite literally. The boy rushed at her but using his momentum, Shift grabbed the boy’s arm and flipped him over her shoulder. The boy landed heavily on the ground. The crowd howled in delight. Disgust rumbled in the back of Shift’s throat.

She looked down to check whether the boy was alright but he stared back at her with a grin etched on his face. Shift shook her head before straddling his waist. She threw punches after punches, only for the boy to block them painlessly.

How long was she going to keep up with the charade. If it dragged any longer and the viewers felt bored, Zion would rather put both their heads on a spike and toast them like a marshmallow.

Just then another horn blew from afar. It was the sound of enemies at the border. Everyone grew anxious. Zion looked at his two fighters and scowled. The boy beneath Shift smirked as he crawled away from her. Shift frowned and shifted her gaze from the boy to Zion and back. The wooden panels from above crashed and the splinters cascaded down like rain. Shift ducked, hiding her face with her forearms. She could feel a few chips piercing her skin.

A mob descended on the ground with guns blazing. The men that surrounded Shift and the boy hurried towards Zion to protect him. As blood splattered all across the ground, the soft thuds of bullet shell-cases hitting the ground seemed to resound. Bodies thumped onto the floor like heavy sacks of grain. Zion growled from behind and shuffled to the exit but was stopped but a group of three soldiers. Zion’s nose flared in fury. The boy stood up and walked confidently towards Zion.

“Give up, Zion, the Skeletal King. There is no other way out for you. You’re surrounded and your followers are already dead,” said the boy, dusting off the sand from his clothes. “Can you hear this silence? You better start getting used to this. Because where you will be going, this will be the only sound you’ll hear.”

The three soldiers grabbed Zion but Zion had another plans. With his heavy and large build, he grabbed the soldier on his left and bit into his neck. Shift breathed out a gasp. Flesh hung from his teeth mixed with haematic fluid dripping down his Y-shaped chin. The soldier cried in agony as he thrashed in Zion’s hold. The other soldiers stabbed Zion in the side with a tanto-point knife and twisted it.

Zion’s knees buckled but he hadn’t let go of the soldier in his grasp. Instead, he flung him against the soldier that had stabbed him. Both of them collided onto the ground. Fishing out the knife from his side, he stabbed the third soldier in her jowl. The horror stricken face fell back and Zion turned back to Shift and the boy, gore matted to his face like a tattoo. Zion licked his lips.

Shift looked at the boy and noticed his lip curling in repulsion. Zion walked towards them. Every step louder and heavier than the previous. Licking the blood on the blade, Zion’s eyes rolled in ecstasy.

“Do you know the real taste of human blood?” Zion asked. “At first, it’s abhorring. The dark coppery and metallic taste on the tongue. But for people like me, who have lived on dirtied, toxic waters, blood tastes like wine. But unlike wine, the younger, the better.” His eyes averted toward Shift. Shift glared back at him.

The boy quirked a smile. “I get it. You’ve lived in a slum your whole life and think that the world is conspiring against you. But does that really justify your methods? What if it were a different person, doing the same as you do, at an earlier time? And instead of being the predator as you are right now, you were the prey? Would you’ve liked that?”

Zion chuckled darkly. “You think you’re the first person to question me this? My every victim have had the same query. And do you know what always answer to them?” He looked at the boy expectantly. “This is free of all costs. Whether who takes it, the meal will always be served. I just happened to be the smartest person to do it first. And now, she’ll be my last course.” He twisted his body towards Shift and sprung at her but she was quick on her feet.

There was a reason she was named Shift. She wasn’t great fighter but her agility was too damn good. And she knew how to run from a situation and shifting the tides to her side. She grabbed the hidden blade in her boot and slide down the ground. The small stones scratched her pants, grating the threads, but Shift didn’t care. She swiped the knife across Zion’s Achilles heel as soon as his feet touched the ground. And like the great Greek warrior, Zion collapsed, planting his face first.

Before Zion could get up, the boy stomped his head with his foot. “You’re right. She’ll be your last course. But not as your meal.” He bent down, leaning closer to Zion. “As your Reaper.” The boy was handed a plastic bottle with swirling amber liquid by one of the mob members that had descended before. He unscrewed the cap and poured the contents on Zion’s head as he whistled lowly.

The whiff of gasoline burned Shift’s nose. She immediately covered her face with a cloth. The boy looked at her and smiled cheerfully. Shifting his leg lower, it rested on Zion’s neck. He pressed his foot harder as his gang members poured gasoline all over the fighting cage. Shift had been distracted by the motions of the members but was soon brought back to reality when she heard the loud crack of Zion’s neck breaking. Shift’s eyes lifted to meet the boy’s eyes.

“Owl, what did you do?” Shift asked.

Owl, the boy, grinned sweetly. “Revolution! It’s finally our time! Time to get back our world.” He held her hand in his callous covered palm and led her out of the building. “It’s your choice, Shift. I’m not going to force you. But do you or do you not want be a part of a world without chaos or not?” Owl asked as he handed her a steel lighter. “Do you have what it takes to bring back the cutting peace or not?”

Shift looked down and then back at the desolate structure that was known for it’s nefarious and immoral activities. She grabbed the lighter and lit the flame. The light burned bright and she knew her future would be too. Throwing it into the building, Shift and Owl watched the great Bestial home crackle down. The flames engulfed the structure piece by piece, one sin after another.

That was just the beginning of their new dawn. And she was prepared for what was to come next. She grabbed Owl’s hand in hers, the boy she knew since she was five, with his toothy grin and messy hair, the one who had grown up to be the leader of the Resistance.

By Rukhsar Shafi