Act 1

Autumn Embers

As Beth Nilsson dove into the Baptiste River, she could feel the cold water slide up her spine. Then she quickly spun in the water, so she could look back at the riverbank as she resurfaced.
The bank was lined with a thin layer of trees. Not enough to peer through at the abandoned tents and trailers of the park. Yet enough to obscure her view, save for the forested hills beyond.

Beth found swimming therapeutic. It gave her time to mull things over in her head. As she pulled herself around and began a breaststroke to the other side, Beth wondered about where and her brother should go. The only wisdom in heading south was that it was warmer. Although they'd be exchanging the warmth of the sun for sharing in it with others, many others, that probably ain't into sharing.

Beth reached her hand out to touch the mud and stones of the southern bank. She imagined it like the edge of the pool back at her home. Instead of the layers of browns and tufts of green, for a few moments Beth saw the blue and white mosaics and tiles of the pool. Beth turned back with an Olympic grace, before pursuing back over to the north bank. Heading North would just be the opposite, as long as they avoided Seattle and Vancouver.

The chill of the water was starting to ware off, her mind was becoming numb to the sensation on her skin and through her swimsuit. Her strong and purposeful movements the only thing warming her up.

East might just be the best bet, out of the mountains and into some prairies. Beth wondered, though she wasn't too sure if it would be warmer.
At least until the winter is over. Beth slapped the northern bank and repeated the swim back and forth.

It was about twenty minutes later when Beth decided it was best to head back. She'd left Greg still asleep in the tent. It was still quite early, about seven am. Beth was the early bird of the two. Even though Greg was finally growing out of it and wherever they were going, they would have to get up at dawn daily. Beth decided that she'd let him sleep.
It was exhausting at the community centre, for weeks and weeks they'd been there, with Adam Davies.
It gave Beth a shudder more than the cold as she pulled herself up onto the riverbank.

Beth grabbed her towel beside her clothes and dried herself off. Before quickly stripping from her swimsuit and into her clothes. Beneath the trees, Beth could see the sunlight slide between the canopy, the green leaves tanning orange and brown with new day.
Beth dried and tied her soaked hair back up. Then she pulled her shirts over her head and shoulders. Finally sliding her lithe legs into her jeans and wrapping around her belt. A long but thin knife pouch dangled of her right hip as she grabbed her towel.

A shadow pulled itself over the sunlight.
When Beth looked up through the canopy, the sun wasn't blocked by canopy nor cloud.

It was smoke, winding and black.

Beth snatched her towel and jogged out of the canopy into the field. The golden grasses waved in the wind that pushed the smoke through the sky. The western edge of the field was on fire.
A large blaze that was licking up trees and sweeping through the grasses, Beth could see abandoned tents collapse and trailers filled with flames.

Beth started sprinting through the grass, barely feeling their brushes in blinded panic.

"Greg!" Beth shouted, then screamed. "Greg!"
Beth didn't have time to ask when or why, the fire was moving fast and Beth frantically scanned for a way through the flames. As she got closer, the heat was pushing against her face and clothes. Hearing the cracking of burning vegetation and the trembling roars of the flames to ward off her approach.

There wasn't a way through, where Beth thought she could see one, a flame swept up like rough waves on a rock. Beth began paceing up and down the line of flames, trying to spot a way through as the flames crawled towards her. "Greg!" Beth shouted as embers burst and floated through the air, the smoke stinging her eyes.

A loud bang echoed from beyond the flames. Beth shouted for Greg more, this time sprinting down the line of the fire towards the highway. The fire whipped and flung itself out at her as she coughed through the smoke. The fire had almost consumed the whole side of the park, pushing through the field towards the warden's empty cabin and the camping on the eastern half.

Finally Beth reached the tarmac of the highway and looped around the flames. The blackened and charred ground was still filled with burning trees and camping equipment. The charred and warped remains of a trailers and RVs sat between evaporated tents and their bare poles.
Beth had to skirt around piles and bundles of flames that still littered the inside of the fire storm. The smoke was thick in the air and Beth pulled her shirt over her mouth and nose.

"Greg!" Beth screamed at the remains of their tent.
It had collapsed, was burnt right through, nothing was left scorched or singed.
However Beth couldn't see the shape of Greg's body in the remains.
"Where are you?!"

"Beth!" Beth swung her head around and saw the figure of Greg, emerging from around the back of an RV. He too had his shirt covering his mouth and his pale skin looked singed and discoloured.
Greg was only about forty yards away, but he couldn't see the flames as they squeezed through the gaps of the RV's hood. Greg staggered in front of the vehicle.

"Gre..." A leap of fire burst from the fuel cap and an inferno of fire and shrapnel engulfed Greg, the force pushing Beth back to the ground and knocking herself out.
Beth became swept into unconsciousness.

-----
Jasper Deckard watched all this from a pair of binoculars. High up on the slope of a hill overlooking the park and it's fire. A conundrum presented itself to him. Leave the safety of the woods on this side of the highway, or risk it to save those people he'd been watching for days.

Jasper lifted himself up from kneeling and held himself up against a pine tree. Looking up and down the slopes and down the highway.
He couldn't see anyone else who could help. For all Jasper knew, he was the only one that could.

"Fuck it" Jasper slung his backpack and bedroll over his shoulders and started descending the hill to the state park...

---

They rode all morning down that bumpy, gravel road in silence. Kiki and her new acquaintance Wayne took turns pedalling, although enduring the metal butt-ache was nearly as exhausting as pedalling the both of them. They had taken a back route then met up with a highway, unable to avoid it because of the river that it followed. It was taking longer than two hours due to Kiki’s added burden, it was probably nearing four hours as they pulled down an even bumpier gravel-ier driveway. Kiki wondered if her butt would ever be the same after this metal pole digging into it for hours on end.

They soon came to a powder blue house. It was certainly not a new build, an old farmhouse with some renovations and improvements. Wayne dropped the bike in the yard, not bothering with it any longer than he had to. He unlocked the door hurriedly and sat his bag on the floor in the hallway. Kiki stood in the yard in silence, wondering if she should follow him. After a moment of debating, she headed inside. What’s the worst that could happen?

She walked into the quiet house, the late-morning light shining a soft orange glow. She slipped off her muddy shoes onto the hardwood then quietly pressed her way inside, regaining precious feeling in her backside. She heard rustling down a dark hall to the left and followed it, trying not to disturb anyone. At the end, she could see a halfway open door and a bit of light coming from it. She peeked in the doorway to see Wayne above a bed of a woman.

She assumed it was his mother, although they looked nothing alike. He smiled down at her as he took some supplies out of a drawer then laid them on a bedside table.
“Hey mom,” he said in a soft, calm voice, “Mom, don’t panic. It’s me, Wayne,” he watched intently for a moment before picking up a terry cloth rag and pouring some water from a cup on the nightstand. He held the rag up to her forehead just as Kiki peeked out of the doorway enough to see her face. Her stomach dropped.

The woman’s skin was purpled, her body seemed stiff. Her skin was tight and her cheekbones were sunken. She had been dead for more than a few hours. She watched as he patted her forehead with the cloth gently, “I know it’s been a few days, but I got everything you needed,”

Kiki clinched her jaw, “Wayne,” she began by getting his attention.
He looked up with a bit of surprise, “Oh yeah. Mom, this is Kiki. She’s here to help you,”
Kiki sighed and shook her head, “Wayne. Touch her skin.” she said plainly.
He looked puzzled, “What?” he said and reach out to touch her cheek before jerking his hand back, “Oh my god!” he stood suddenly, knocking a pile of cloths over, “Kiki, go get some wood from the shed,” he said urgently, and headed out of the room “I’ll get blankets. She’s ice cold, I-”

“Wayne.” she said sternly, arms crossed firmly against her chest, “Listen to me. Look at the colour of her skin, it’s purple. It’s been a while and there’s no bringi-”
He stormed out, refusing to look back into the room, “I don’t care! Go get the wood!” he said with a shaky voice as he pushed into the hallway.

She followed after him, arms still crossed as he grabbed an armful of blankets around the room, “Don’t just stand there you asshole! Do something!” he shoved her out of the way with his shoulder as he ran into the room and then back out again, “You’re so useless! I’ll get it myself…” he headed out the door.
He burst back inside with an equal armful of wood and tossed it beside the hearth. He shoved a good amount into it, surely getting some splinters before scrambling around looking for something to light it with. “Where the fuck...” he said as I crawled around, looking under and inside things around the living room, he looked up with a scorned face, “Help me!” he said desperately.

“Okay,” she walked further into the room and sat on the couch, “She’s gone. She’s been dead awhile,” she measured her next words, “But it doesn’t look like she suffered,”
He stood, seeming to find his own words. His face moved through emotions, shock fading into sadness, into disbelief, into anger, then back to shock, “What do you mean?” he said finally, “How do you know?” there was doubt and bitterness in his voice.
“Remember the part where I’m a biologist? That’s what I do, study dead things. I mean that she didn’t die as most cases of the plague,” she looked down, “Plague deaths are usually violently painful and-”

A loud crash, “Shut up!” Kiki looks back up to see a clay pot on the floor in several chunks. “This is all your fault, anyway! If you hadn’t slowed me down I would have been here way earlier. It’s all because of your stupid, fake story. I can’t believe I fell for that, and now look!” he stomped his way over to her. With each word he came closer, louder, and angrier, “You said you’d help my mom! Well, how are you going to help her now?!”
Kiki kept a steely glare as she felt spittle hit her face. She opened her mouth again, “It’s been more than four h-”
“How do you know?!” he practically exploded at her, his face bright red. “Get out of my fucking house! This is all your fault!” he pointed toward the door and she stood coolly.
“One last-”
“No! No last anything!” he pointed more furiously, “I don’t ever want to see you again, you heartless bitch! Go away and never come back!” his entire body quaked. A few tense, silent moments passed. Kiki nodded then headed toward the door.

“Apologies for your loss,” she said on her way through the hall. He seemed to share more violently, picking up a vase filled with wilted wildflowers.
“Out!” he shouted as she made her way through the doorway, glass shattering on the wall beside the door. Kiki couldn’t help but hear the wails coming from that powder blue house as she made her way back down that gravely road.

She remembered seeing a small town on their way down to his house. She wondered if it would be safe to venture into it or would it be better to venture away from it. She looked down the road past Wayne’s house and saw smoke. It was quite a distance away, but it seemed to be some sort of forest fire as there was a large volume of smoke. She was no firefighter, and the victims (if any) would probably be crispy by the time she arrived, so she opted for the town.

"...Am I making a mistake?" Jasmine asked under her breath. She was standing in front of two lumps of disheveled earth, each bearing a makeshift wooden cross. It had felt wrong to bury her parents in the yard, like as if they were family pets, but it was impossible to try to take them to a cemetery. No one manned them anymore, and with all of the deaths that had occurred over the past weeks it would likely be filled to the brim with everyone's loved ones anyway. Well, not probably, it was undeniably true considering how people had resorted to using abandoned houses to store all of the excess bodies that had been accumulating. So the back yard was the only thing the Dwyer siblings could settle for, as screwed up as it sounded. And now here Jasmine was, standing and mourning and praying in front of their graves, practically begging for an answer on what she should do.

A week had gone by since news of the outside world stopped coming in. She had been hoping that the government would send aid and fix their problems, maybe even come up with a cure for the Ashing. But with each passing day, it was becoming clearer and clearer that no one was coming, no matter how much she tried to deny it. Fall was here, and Winter was on its way. Scavenging was helpful but the neighborhood was already running dry. Everything seemed to be pointing to the fact that they needed to move on to a better location with safety and more supplies, and her brother Grant had been arguing as such with her. But she would just counter that with the fact that their home was probably the safest place they could hunker down in. Nobody seemed to be around anymore, so they didn't have to worry about other people, and it was an overall stable and secure place that they could always find safety and shelter in.

That was the biggest conflict on Jasmine's mind right now. Either option was risky, but which one was the right one? She needed to protect Grant, but both options exposed him to danger. Stay in place, and possibly die due to cold and lack of food once Winter hit, or try to find somewhere better, and possibly put him in harm's way as they moved out in the open. What killed her the most was that the dangers were "possibilities"; there may be danger but it was uncertain. It's what made it impossible to see one option over the other as objectively correct.

"I don't know what to do..." Jasmine's voice shook as he whispered down to the graves, desperation apparent in her pleas, "Please...Give me a sign."

She took a deep breath, then slowly let it out. She wasn't going to get an answer, not this way at least. This was just something she was going to have to figure out on her own, so she bade her parents a silent goodbye before heading back into the house. Once inside, she made her way to the kitchen, where she saw that Grant had already prepared breakfast for the two of them. He was currently sitting at the dining table, eating his food as he read through a book Jasmine had found during one of her looting trips.

"Fruit salad and a toaster pastry," Jasmine said, examining the plate of food in front of her as she sat down, "I feel like I'm back in fourth grade." She reached over to ruffle his hair a bit to show she was joking, causing him to recoil slightly as he patted his hair back down. He faced her as he started making motions with his hands, which instantly caught her attention. In all honesty, she could almost sense when he was trying to sign at her at this point, and she always paid attention when he did.

"I figured we should try to get rid of the fruit first," he signed, "We have a lot of perishables, we don't want them to go bad."

"Smart thinking," Jasmine smiled lightly at him, "Honestly, I'm surprised I still find fresh fruit out there at this point. A lot of it's gone rotten, but sometimes I get lucky. Canned food's probably better to find in the long run, though." She reached for the toaster pastry, but dropped it back onto the plate when she felt heat. It didn't burn her, but it was surprising to her.

"What the- it's hot? Did you toast it?" Jasmine asked in surprise.

"Kind of," Grant motioned, "I busted out Dad's old kerosene stove, I found it hidden away in the basement. It's a cheaply made model, but it works."

"Huh." Jasmine seemed impressed by that, she didn't know he knew how to operate one of those things. "Wait, was there smoke? It might attract attention if someone sees it."

"It's fine, I was careful," Grant reassured her after thinking his reply over for a moment, "No one's going to see anything." He paused, then started signing again. "Are you going out today?"

"Nice, just change the subject," Jasmine sighed, "Yeah, I'm going out. I might be gone longer than usual, I'm checking out downtown today."

"Really?" Grant's eyes widened a bit. She'd said before it could be dangerous since other people likely would've had the same idea as well, so this change of heart threw him off a bit.

"Yeah, I'm just not finding much around here anymore," Jasmine told him, "Everything to the north is basically all looted, east has the Hansson Valley but it's a long trek to get there so it's really only a last resort, and south has more neighborhoods but I saw some of the houses were being used to store bodies, so that's a no-go for me. That just leaves the rest of town to the west." Grant didn't respond, and just looked at her worriedly. "I know it's dangerous," she continued, "But you were right, we're running out of options that isn't us just getting out of here. I know there's good stuff out there though, maybe even enough to get us through Winter. Worst comes to worst, I can find a car for us if we do end up needing to get out of here." The family car had been stolen pretty early on when the Ashing Pandemic happened, so it had been impossible for them to try to travel out of Baptiste Valley.

Grant looked down off to the side, thinking over what she said. Jasmine had learned pretty quickly that he didn't like making eye contact when he was trying to come up with something to say, and just let him stew on it. Eventually, he looked back up and signed quickly.

"I want to come."

Jasmine blinked.

"What? No!" She told him forcefully, "You know I can't bring you!"

"I need to learn how to scavenge too," he signed quickly, "I need to be able to take care of myself!"

"Damn it Grant, you already can take care of yourself!" She exclaimed, but realized she was starting to raise her voice and tried to calm down. "Look, I'm heading into new territory here, ok? I need to know what it's like in town, if it's safe to even walk around there."

Grant looked down again, this time longer than before. When he finally looked back up, he sighed lightly through his nose and nodded his head in understanding. It made sense...but he really wanted to help anyway.

Breakfast went on silently after that, and soon after Jasmine left to her room to put on a jacket, as it had been pretty chilly out that morning. For good measure, she brought a scarf too, before putting on her backpack with her gear inside. She returned to the kitchen and saw Grant cleaning the dishes and then putting them away.

"Hey," she said to him, "If everything turns out ok...maybe I'll bring you next time, alright?" He didn't respond, causing her to frown. As she left out the back door, she added, "Stay safe while I'm gone."

Once outside, she made her way to the street and faced west, oblivious to the far away smoke that was rising in the sky to the south. She seriously hoped everything would be ok out in town. She began to make her way forward, wary of what she might eventually find.

Spirals of steam rose from the cup clasped between Lily’s hand as the faired haired young woman lifted the floral-patterned cup to her lips and sipped the sweet peppermint tea brewed moments before. Her hands shook a little but that was to be expected, considering … what she had just done. The room was silent save for the grandfather clock that dominated the room; tick-tock the sound pierced the overbearing silence that filled the air as its pendulum swung, slicing time into seconds.

She tilted the cup even more and drained the last dregs of the beverage before she unsteadily placed it back onto its saucer, the sound of china hitting china adding to the brief collections of sounds that dared to colour the quiet. Lily examined her nails, the pale skin of her nose furrowing as she noticed the dirt embedded in her cuticles. Urgently she got up from behind the table where she had been sitting and made her way into the kitchen, washing the dirt frantically from her fingernails. The scrubbing brush coloured her flesh raw as it ripped at the skin, the water pouring from the faucet turning pink as blood tinged the liquid.

She dropped the brush as she began to feel tears prick the corners of her eyes and a lump forming in her throat. She hadn’t meant to scrub so hard … she just wanted every bit of evidence expunged from her body so she could forget.

To forget that she had just buried her brother with the rest of her family. She had gotten up at dawn and dug the grave as deep as she could, her hands callousing and blistering, her lips cracked at the noonday sun glared down below. But she didn’t stop, the exertion was a break from thinking, from feeling, from worrying.

Yet now everything had been done. Now there would be nothing that would stop her thinking least of all this overbearing silence. It didn’t belong in this house, it was alien and a sign of the foul curse that had befallen her family. Once the rooms of the farmhouse had been overflowing at the seams as laughter, tears and footsteps echoed throughout. Now it was just Lily, standing alone in her house and in the world.

~*~

Lily’s eyes opened as dawn’s glow seeped through the curtains once more, heralding a new day. Lily lay in the warm cocoon of sheers debating to get out of bed. It would be easier to lie there, to close her eyes and fall into the inertia of apathy again. It had been two days since her brother was buried. She hadn’t got out of bed since. Curling her body up she closed her eyes, lying before a few minutes before snapping open her eyes.

No, she thought to herself, keep moving and don’t stop. Shakily she swing her feet out the bed, grabbing the brush at the bedside table and running it through her hair. She had never been one to mope and she wasn’t starting now. She would head into town, gather whatever supplies were left and if she was lucky see if she could find a HAM radio somewhere, get into contact with other survivors.
A couple of hours later she was dressed and packed. Slinging the rucksack on her shoulders she noted how light it was – it was mostly empty to give room for supplies she would take back. There was however a large bottle of water tucked into the side pocket and a few packs of dry fruit, a small first aid kit and a Swiss army knife. Tucking her handgun into her holster she wondered if she would need it. People got desperate in situations like these and Lily knew the presence of the gun could make people think twice even without the threat of having to use it.

Sighing, she mad her way outside, her eyes crinkling as the bright sun assaulted them for the first time in days. She sniffed the air, smelling smoke. Turning to her right, she gasped as she saw smoke billowing into the air at the State Park. She bit her lip, it would take her the opposite direction she wanted to go but not by far. She hesitated for a few more minutes before muttering “Shit” under her breath and running.

She concentrated on inhaling from her nose and exhaling from the mouth as she kept her pace steady, quickly covering the distance towards the inferno. As she reached the southern bank of the river she rested her hands on her knees as she struggled to maintain her breath, the lethargy of the last couple of days taking the toll on her fitness. She peered up, struggling to see past the thick smog spewed by the orange flamed.

She gasped as she felt the cold water of the river push the air out her lungs before she kicked, quickly crossing the distance between the two banks with a textbook sidestroke. Hauling herself up into the bank, she opened her sodden bag and was grateful she had enclosed the first aid kit in a sandwhich bag, keeping the contents dry. She pulled one of the rolls of bandages out and soaked it in water before wrapping the damp cloth around her mouth and nose. She tightened the straps of her bag tightly, tucking away any loose ends. She had done some basic emergency fire search training during her time in the Academy but nothing too advanced. Yet she knew enough that she had to get anyone stuck in there out fast. Smoke inhalation was the biggest killer in these events.

The smoke was thick and stung her eyes, tears streaming down her face as Lily focused on keeping calm. She pulled her gun out her holster in case there was any malicious intent to this blaze. Her ears pricked however, when she heard shouting.

“BETH” she heard and before she knew it her feet was running towards the source. “Hello!” She shouted, making out blurry figures in the distance, “Is anyone hurt!” She called out, closing the distance more and more.

Jasper had his right hand under Beth Nilsso's armpit, dragging her across the charred grass. He had his shirt over his lower face, held tightly with his free hand. Upon seeing the woman who had arrived, Jasper paused for a split second in shock. Were they here to help, or were they already here?

Regardless, Jasper looked back at the other body. A still burning form, what could be seen beneath the flames was scorched to the skin and charcoal black. At least the woman was still alive and fairly unburnt.

"Are you gonna help!?" Jasper shouted through the fabric. Continuing to drag the unconscious woman out from the fire.