Earth

  “Where’s Raime?”

  The words hung heavy between them. The noise of the plaza seemed to fade for a moment — the shouts, the restless murmuring of the crowd. Only the low hum of the generators and the distant sound of someone crying broke the stillness.

  Alessandro’s jaw tightened. Laura’s gaze dropped, her fingers curling against the bandaged side of her arm. The silence that followed was enough to make Alice’s breath hitch.

  “Alice…” Laura started softly, but her voice faltered. “He’s… he didn’t—”

  “Don’t say it,” Alice interrupted, shaking her head. “Please don’t say he’s dead.”

  Laura swallowed hard. “He’s not,” she said finally, forcing steadiness into her voice. “At least we don’t think so. He was… pulled into one of those things. A rift near the old shed in the woods. It closed right after.”

  Alice blinked, her face pale. “The rift— you mean he—?” Her words caught again, half-formed. “He’s inside one of those? You saw it close?”

  Alessandro nodded once. “We tried to reach him, but it swallowed everything. It’s sealed now. They said it’ll open again in nineteen, no eighteen days now.” His tone was flat, factual, but his knuckles were white as he clenched his fists.

  Alice stared at him, disbelief and a faint tremor in her hands betraying the calm she tried to hold. “Eighteen days,” she echoed. “And you’re sure he’s still alive?”

  “No one’s sure of anything,” Alessandro said quietly. “He got transported inside. Whatever’s on the other side… we don’t know.”

  For a heartbeat, Alice’s lips trembled. She pressed them together, staring past them at the tents, at the rising column of smoke from a nearby fire. “I wanted to surprise him,” she whispered. “I know he was stressed out by the exams and now it was a good time to just relax and spend some time together. Then while I was coming here everything went insane — the System, people screaming, those… things… tearing through the streets—” She drew a shaky breath, forcing herself to stop. “I was nearly here when the trains stopped. I managed to hitch a ride by some miracle. I thought I managed to reach him, but he… he is not even here.”

  Laura reached out, hugging her. “You made it here in one piece. That’s what matters. We’ll take care of you.”

  Alice cried weakly on her shoulder. “It doesn’t feel like it matters. We don’t even know if he’s still alive.” Her eyes lifted to Alessandro, desperate. “There has to be a way to reach him before that rift opens again. Can’t the army—?”

  “There’s no army here,” Alessandro said, shaking his head. “The phones are down most of the time. The few people still fighting are doing it with whatever they can find. No one even knows what these rifts are. We barely survived what came out of them.”

  He paused, looking past Alice toward the plaza. People were busy fortifying barricades, moving crates, helping the injured. No one looked certain of anything — only tired, driven by fear and necessity.

  Alice followed his gaze, her expression hardening. “Then we’ll wait. If he’s alive, he’ll come back.”

  Laura almost smiled at that, the faintest tremor in her lips. “That’s what the twins say too,” she murmured.

  Alice glanced at the boys, who were standing close together beside their parents. Victor’s face was tense, Albert’s eyes fixed on the ground. When Alice crouched down, both looked up at her.

  “Hey,” she said softly. “Your brother’s strong. Stronger than anyone I’ve ever met. You know that, right?”

  Victor nodded quickly. “He’ll come back,” he said. “You’ll see, he will get superpowers and defeat the Rift boss or whatever. Then when he’ll be here we won’t even need an army.”

  Alice smiled faintly, though her eyes were glassy. “Then we’ll make sure we’re ready when he does.”

  “Yea,” Albert’s face was a mask of determination. “We need to become stronger too, tomorrow it’s the third day. We’ll get our classes and then we will level up and maybe we can go to take him back too, we don’t really know right? It is possible that tomorrow things will change right dad?”

  “We don’t know, but we will prepare.” replied Alessandro non-committedly.

  Laura touched Alice’s shoulder again, gratitude and weariness mingling in her voice. “You should rest. We all should. The plaza’s safer than most places for now.”

  Alice exhaled, glancing around. The plaza was a patchwork of desperation and order — tents clustered between broken vehicles, crates of salvaged food stacked near makeshift barricades. People moved with purpose, but always glancing toward the Rift, as if expecting another monster to come out at any moment.

  “You’ve been staying here?” she asked.

  “No,” Alessandro replied. “We stayed at home. We reinforced it the way we could. But we came here because Laura needs to be checked — those cuts need stitching. After that…” He hesitated. “We’ll see. We wanted to look for supplies before nightfall.”

  Alice frowned. “Supplies? You mean you’re going out there?”

  He nodded. “Food, medicine, anything useful. The plaza’s safe for now, but it won’t last long if the rift near the river is as bad as they told us. We can’t depend on anyone else.”

  “I can stay with the twins,” Alice said immediately. “If you need to go, I’ll watch them. At least for a few hours. They’ll be safe with me.”

  Laura’s eyes softened with relief and hesitation all at once. “Are you sure? You’ve just arrived.”

  Alice’s gaze flicked back to the boys, then to Laura. “I can handle it. And I don’t really have anything better to do.”

  Alessandro studied her for a moment, then gave a slow nod. “Alright. If you’re sure, that would help a lot.”

  Alice straightened, brushing the dust from her jeans. “I’m sure. Just… promise me you’ll come back before dark.”

  He gave a faint, humorless smile. “That’s the plan.”

  For a moment, none of them spoke. The world beyond the plaza was falling apart, yet within that circle of cracked stone and makeshift shelters, there was still the faint rhythm of life — people helping, rebuilding, surviving.

  Alessandro looked at both of them — his wife, his son’s girlfriend — and something in his chest eased. The fear didn’t leave, but it became something else, something colder and steadier. Purpose.

  “Okay,” he said simply. “Then we better move.”

  The medical tent smelled faintly of antiseptic and sweat. Inside, the air was stifling, caught between the afternoon heat and the low hum of the generators that powered a few flickering lamps. A nurse with dark circles under her eyes guided Laura to a cot, her latex gloves snapping as she inspected the gashes on Laura.

  “They are mostly clean,” the nurse murmured after a moment. “Lucky. No sign of infection, but you’ll need stitches. Sit still.”

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  Laura nodded, wincing as the needle went in. While the anesthetic took effect Alessandro stood beside her, jaw set tight. He hated watching, but couldn’t look away. Every small sound — the distant chatter outside, the clink of metal trays — pressed against his nerves like reminders that this was the new normal.

  “How did this happen?” the nurse asked without looking up.

  “One of the little monsters managed to enter from a window.”

  The nurse hummed. “You’re not the first… unfortunately. And many more didn’t survive to tell the tale.” Her hands worked fast and precise, cleaning the wounds and then applying the stitchings. “You’ll be fine, but you need rest. No running around, don’t lift anything heavy, and for the love of God please don’t think about going back outside in the streets.”

  Alessandro gave a low chuckle, the sound dry. “If you think you can stop her from doing something please teach me, it’s thirty years I’m trying and failing.”

  “If you move too much you are going to tear the stitches,” the nurse said sharply, glancing up at her. “Stay put, I mean it.”

  Laura met her gaze and said nothing. The nurse sighed and went back to her work.

  When she was done, she wrapped Laura carefully and handed her a small packet of pills. “Painkillers and mild antibiotics. Take them with food. And stay here for a few hours — I don’t want you passing out in the street.”

  Laura murmured her thanks. Alessandro helped her up slowly. The exhaustion was beginning to show in both of them — not just physical, but the dull, creeping kind that came from too much fear and too little sleep.

  Outside, the plaza was busier than before — people moving crates, dragging sheets of metal, shouting orders. Children’s voices carried faintly from one side, where a few families had gathered near a cluster of benches and a gazebo that served as improvised playgrounds.

  Alice was there, sitting cross-legged near the twins as they played tag with a group of other kids. For a moment, it almost looked normal — laughter, dust rising in the air, the hollow echo of small feet on cracked stone.

  Alessandro and Laura approached quietly. Alice stood as she noticed them, brushing a lock of auburn hair back with one hand. “Everything okay?”

  “She’ll live,” Alessandro said with a faint smile.

  Laura gave him a mild glare. “I will,” she muttered. “But the nurse forbade me from doing anything strenuous.”

  “Then you’ll follow that order,” he replied, tone firm but kind.

  Alice’s eyes softened. “You should rest. We’re safe here for now.” She glanced at the twins again. Victor was showing another kid how to throw small pebbles at a dented can, pretending it was a monster. “They’re talking about how Raime’s training in the Rift, you know,” she said quietly. “They really believe he’ll come back.”

  Alessandro exhaled. “Then let’s make sure there’s something to come back to.”

  Laura’s hand found his. “You’re going out anyway, aren’t you?”

  He nodded. “We need more food. Medicine. Anything we can find. The plaza has rations, but they’re limited — and the next delivery might never come.”

  “You can’t go alone,” she said. “At least find someone to go with you.”

  He hesitated. “Most people already have groups.”

  “Then ask,” she insisted. “You can’t afford to take that risk.”

  For once, he didn’t argue.

  He squeezed her hand and left her with Alice, who sat down beside her as the twins laughed in the background. “Don’t worry,” Alice said. “He’ll be careful.”

  Laura smiled faintly, though her eyes were distant. “I really hope so.”

  The plaza had turned into a maze of strangers and familiar faces — carpenters, clerks, students, all wearing the same expression of wary exhaustion. Alessandro moved among them, calling out to a few people he recognized from the neighborhood, but most were already busy — some forming groups with weapons cobbled from pipes and hatchets, others loading scavenged goods into carts. A guy was going around in full riot gear, another one looked like he came straight out of a Renaissance fair, sword included.

  Every conversation sounded the same. “We’re heading east.” “Already taken.” “Too dangerous.” “Try the highway.” “Nothing left.”

  He felt the weight of futility pressing in, the world shrinking with every step. Still, he kept searching, because there wasn’t any other choice.

  After half an hour, he was considering going alone anyway when a familiar voice called from across the plaza.

  “Boss!”

  He turned, heart lifting for the first time that day. Two figures were jogging toward him — Marco, tall and broad-shouldered with a messy beard, and Diego, younger, wiry, a baseball bat slung over his shoulder.

  “Boss, you’re alive!” Diego grinned, though there was a nervous tremor beneath it. “We thought you were gone with half the town when everything went to hell.”

  Alessandro managed a small, tired smile. “Not yet. You two holding up?”

  “Barely,” Marco said, scratching his neck. “We holed up at the old workshop for the night, but it’s not safe. Power’s gone, and something was scratching around back this morning. We were planning to move out again when we saw you here.”

  “Good timing,” Alessandro said. “I was just about to head out for supplies, I could use the company.”

  “Perfect,” Marco replied, glancing at Diego. “We’ll come with you. Safety in numbers, right?”

  Diego nodded quickly. “Besides, at least we know that if there is someone we can trust, that’s you.”

  Alessandro’s lips twitched. “Same here boys, same here.”

  “Some of the people here,” Diego said while looking around. “They’re not fine, man. I understand that they’re scared, but there had been a lot of problems. I heard there has even been murders.”

  “Not good, not good at all. Let’s move quickly,” Alessandro said, looking around. “Grab your stuff. We’ll take my pickup, we can talk more on the way.”

  They informed Laura and the others quickly. She tried not to show her worry, but her fingers lingered on Alessandro’s arm before letting him go.

  “Be careful,” she said softly.

  “Always.”

  Then he was gone, moving with his two colleagues through the plaza’s gates and into the streets beyond.

  The city — or what remained of it — felt hollow. Cars were abandoned at odd angles, windows shattered. The hum of insects filled the silence where once there had been engines and voices.

  They passed by a supermarket — already stripped bare, the front windows smashed. Shelves were overturned, and the smell of rot drifted faintly from inside. Alessandro didn’t even bother to check.

  “Crazy how fast people cleared everything out,” Diego muttered, kicking a piece of glass aside. “It’s like vultures picked the bones clean overnight.”

  “Desperation does that,” Alessandro replied.

  They moved methodically, checking cars and open houses along the way. They found some pantries not yet ransacked and they managed to fill some tanks of gasoline. Not much, but something.

  Every creak of metal or distant noise set their nerves on edge. Once, they froze when a guttural snarl echoed from an alleyway. A misshapen silhouette shifted behind a dumpster — something crawling on too many limbs. They backed away slowly, silent. Guns pointed until the sound faded.

  When they finally reached the outskirts, the fields opened before them — green grass and scattered farmhouses under a bruised sky.

  Alessandro pointed toward a distant structure. “There. Pozza’s farm. Old man used to sell us fresh eggs on Sundays. If the place isn’t overrun, we might get lucky.”

  The road to the Pozza farm wound through low hills and silent fields. The truck bounced over cracked asphalt, its engine rumbling like a tired animal.

  Alessandro drove with both hands gripping the wheel, eyes fixed on the horizon. Marco held a shotgun, peering out the window, while Diego sat in the back, the baseball bat across his knees.

  When the farmhouse finally came into view, the first thing they noticed was the gate — open, swinging gently in the wind. The hinges creaked in the quiet. Beyond it, the yard was littered with shapes.

  “Jesus,” Marco muttered.

  Dozens of chickens lay scattered across the dirt, their bodies torn open. A dead cow slumped near the fence, ribs broken outward as if something had clawed its way out from the inside. The smell hit them next — thick, metallic, sweet with rot.

  “Whatever made this mess,” Diego said, voice low. “Left… no tracks?”

  Alessandro crouched, scanning the ground. The soil was churned, but there were no prints — just long drag marks, as if the bodies had been moved.

  “Stay sharp,” he said. “They might still be around.”

  They advanced slowly, the crunch of gravel beneath their boots sounding unnaturally loud. The farmhouse loomed ahead, its white paint smeared with dirt and dried blood. One of the windows was shattered, curtains hanging in tatters.

  The barn stood farther back, its doors closed but trembling slightly, as if something was moving inside.

  Marco pointed with the gun. “You hear that?”

  A faint, rhythmic thumping. Thud… thud… thud. Like a heavy weight striking wood.

  Alessandro motioned for them to spread out. He moved toward the barn’s side, Diego to the left, Marco covering their rear.

  As they neared, the smell grew worse — not just rot now, but the sour tang of old sweat, manure, and something chemical, like rusted metal soaked in oil.

  Diego crouched by a small window near the back, wiping the grime with his sleeve to peer inside. “Can’t see much,” he whispered. “Something’s moving in there. Big.”

  “Don’t make noise,” Alessandro murmured. “Let me—”

  Before he could finish, Diego froze. His breath caught.

  A pair of eyes stared back at him through the slit in the window — wide and bloodshot.

  Then something whistled through the air.

  A cleaver smashed out of the window, spinning end over end, missing Diego by half a meter and burying itself into the dirt behind him. He stumbled back with a curse, falling to the ground as Marco raised his weapon in reflex.

  “Back! Back!” Alessandro shouted, dragging Diego to his feet.

  The barn doors flew open with a crash. A massive, broad man stumbled out — his overalls dark with blood, his face streaked with dirt and sweat. He was breathing hard, eyes wild. In his hands was a shotgun, its barrel already levelled at them.

  “Fucking bastards!” he roared, his voice breaking from strain. “You think you can come back here again? I told you I will fucking kill you if you came back.”

  Alessandro raised his rifle too, heart hammering. “Wait! Wait! We’re not—”

  Bang!