Voyeur

He turned slowly and was surprised to find himself facing a small collection of five closely set houses, all bland and identical save for their color. A subdivision, he believed this was called, though why anyone would choose this fucking wasteland as home baffled him. Every single one of them looked deserted, windows dark, vehicles absent from driveways, not a soul in sight. He supposed they could be holed up inside, but he thought it more likely that the occupants had had enough warning of the impending disaster to pack up their necessities and attempt to flee to safety. He wished Dauntless had had that much of a warning, though he wasn’t sure even that would’ve changed the outcome.

***

The blaring of the alarm was almost, but not quite, enough to drown out the panicked screams throughout the compound. He heard the distant thumps and crashes of various structures crumbling in the distance, getting closer by the second as he stood in the control room. The outer walls and ceilings, closest to the surface, were the first to go; everything else was falling like dominos in their wake. He was trying to assess the magnitude of the situation through the camera feeds, but they disappeared almost before he could catch a glimpse as they too fell victim to the destruction. Though he didn’t need to see to know it was pure chaos.

Of course there were disaster plans in place, but they encompassed things like earthquakes and attacks from the factionless; nothing like what was happening now. As drills had taught them, people scrambled to get inside doorways and to the armory, where the construction was more fortified, but even those were collapsing under the force of this unknown attack. Those that kept their cool and followed the action plan were ironically the first to go, having gathered in clusters to the supposedly more stable areas and subsequently buried en masse. Eric watched the rest of his faction scurry around in mindless terror like headless chickens, many of them flocking to the Pit seeking safety in numbers, and he had time to think, “So much for being brave and prepared.” He sneered in disgust, thinking that if these people were what his beloved faction were made up of, perhaps they deserved to die. He thought he chose only the best of the best for Dauntless, but clearly when the going really got tough, very few measured up.

Eric had the invaluable talent of keeping his cool in even the most calamitous of situations, an essential quality to being an effective Leader, so while he certainly didn’t lack the courage to run headlong into the melee and attempt to rescue his moronic faction members, logic always prevailed for him, and not only were there protocols in place he was trained to follow, he recognized immediately that any rescue attempts were futile. He had to put the faction at large first even if it cost lives. The sacrifice of the few for the survival of the many, unfortunately.

And so, the faction leaders and their lieutenants were the priority. If the City were to fall, the most qualified should be the ones to survive in order to rebuild. Therefore, these chosen few were the only ones aware of the outside world beyond the City walls, and provided the means to escape to it in the event of the annihilation of the City. He fled to the appointed evacuation point, knowing that despite its reinforcements even that would only hold for minutes, and stepped into his assigned pod. He didn’t know the science behind it, that was Erudite’s department - was it some kind of teleportation device, or form of air travel? - but he didn’t have time to question whether he would survive the journey. Nor would he have any way of knowing if the other faction leaders had escaped. There was no deliberation really - to remain here was certain death.

The moment he stepped inside, the steel door shut forcefully behind him. A female robotic voice intoned, “Evacuation initiated,” he felt a gentle lurch as the pod ascended through the pneumatic chamber, and the last Eric knew was total darkness.

***

Eric climbed out of bed and donned the same clothes he’d been wearing since his arrival in this hellhole: fitted black t-shirt, black cargo pants, and black combat boots. His nose immediately wrinkled at the distinct odor emanating from his unwashed clothes and sweat-grimed body, but thus far he had come across no clothes in the closets that would fit his large frame, so he was stuck with what he had. He trudged wearily downstairs, his desire for coffee so strong it was practically an ache, and began to consider his plan of action for the day.

He had spent the first day scouring the houses for any necessary supplies he could immediately think of: food, clothing, weapons, and, since he had quickly ascertained that the electricity and plumbing were no longer functioning, bottled water and batteries. He collected his findings in the center house he had chosen at random to take up residence in, knowing he would think of more potentially useful items but would make a list later; for the time being he was still slightly overwhelmed by shock. Today he thought he might try the remaining vehicles in the garages to see if any of them were running, hoping to further explore the surrounding terrain. But what if he couldn’t find the keys? Could he hotwire a car? The garage doors operated on electricity; could he figure out how to open them manually? There had always been generators in Dauntless. Eric was an intelligent guy, but it’s not like they taught Survival Skills for the Apocalypse in school. He took a deep breath and said to himself, “One step at a time.”

Eric jumped as he suddenly heard the sound of rustling coming from what he thought was the kitchen. He pulled his gun from his holster and descended the stairs carefully; bursting into the kitchen, he drew his gun, and yelled, “Don’t move!”

The sight of the girl standing in front of the open cabinet actually at first almost made him laugh. She wore an oversized, obnoxiously flowery sundress, floppy straw hat, and yellow galoshes, and a white stripe ran down the length of her nose. She looked like a drunken Amity refugee. “Who the fuck are you?” he demanded.

For a moment she continued to rummage through the cabinet’s contents, seemingly unconcerned with the gun pointed at her head. Then she turned to face Eric and briefly eyed him up and down, taking in his attire and piercings. She snorted and said, “The end of the world hits and you decided to raid Hot Topic? Great, I’m sure you’ll be loads of help.”

Eric strode forward and grabbed her by the arm. “What do you think you’re doing?”

She had resumed her inventory of the cabinets, replying, “I’m checking the empty houses for supplies, what does it look like I’m doing?”

His mouth had fallen slightly open at her brazenness. “Well obviously this house isn’t fucking empty, so stop going through my shit!”

She turned to him again, hands on her hips, and retorted, “Technically this isn’t your shit, it belonged to the person that used to live here, so as far as I’m concerned it’s fair game.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, sweetheart,” he snarled. “More like every man for himself. I don’t care where you go, just get the fuck out of this house.”

She sighed, wriggling out of his grasp. “I don’t know how long you’ve been around here, but I’ve been out here for almost a week, and near as I can tell, we’re the only two living people for miles. Hell, we’re the last two living people on the planet for all I know. So either we work together, or we die.”

She grabbed his hand and shook it enthusiastically. “I’m Madeline, but I go by Maddy. Welcome to the neighborhood.” She smiled brightly. “I’m sure we’ll be the best of friends!”