Chemical Affairs

Being the holder of Level Blue Card was a magnificent gift, the product of being brought into existence by a doctor and medical scientist. When the Rapture came, so did the Wrongs. Harry was lucky to be protected from such creatures, those unspeakable things who sought only flesh and the spread of their own infections. Though having such special identification didn’t mean he was safe. Yes, Harry was one of the chosen ones who would be allowed in the shelters first. Yes, Harry lived inside the fifth wall of the city, the heart, where any invasion would be kept at bay until he was in a secure bunker. Yes, he would be given medical treatment before most. But that didn’t keep him safe from his own curiosity. The boy had a terrible habit of sneaking outside of the walls, to admire what had once been the gorgeous countryside of his now decrepit, terrified home. He ran past the dried creak, weaved between the wicked dead trees he’d so missed climbing, kicked at the dried and decaying remains of the grass that used to cushion his barefeet. It was for this dangerous reason he didn’t hear the mechanical and “soothing” voice of a woman calling for all Level Blue Cards to go home to their dorms. This dangerous reason he didn’t hear the Level Yellow Cards be called. This dangerous reason he missed the Level Greens, Level Reds, the locking of the city gate. No, Harry was entranced with watching a giant rat try scavenging the waste land for food.

It was also why he missed his old neighbour, Mr. Petty, coming at him for his own source of nourishment.

Harry was brought back into reality by a loud bang, only to see a sickeningly green arm go flying past his head. A roar sounded and so did an angry yell as Mr. Petty’s decaying body stumbled forward, stunned but still intent on devouring the boy. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing out?!” snarled someone from the distance. Harry narrowly dodged the still connected arm of Mr. Petty as a girl with pink hair aimed an extravagant gun at the rotting man. “Get down, mas’ reft!”

“What?!” Though he didn’t wait for an answer, Harry did duck. The girl screamed as she shot which missed. She threw her weapon down and charged at Mr. Petty, ripping out a large knife, roughly the size of her own forearm, before letting out a battle cry. “No!” Harry yelled, watching as the tiny thing lept upon the Wrong. She didn’t seem to care. He watched in disgust as she jumped on Mr. Petty’s back and yanked his head to the side, expertly slitting his festering throat. A disturbing yellow liquid spilled out onto the ground, the zombie thrashing under her as it tried to reach flesh. She growled, pulled back the knife, and plunged the metal thing into his head.

“Fucking disgusting”, she spat, landing on her feet as Mr. Petty stopped moving. He fell on the ground, into the yellow liquid that quickly began boiling the skin. Harry felt his stomach churn and he had to look away from the wild girl to vomit behind a large rock.

“Oi, you’re one of them sissies”, she muttered, walking around to check him out. Harry wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve (Mother would be sure to lecture him later) and stared up at her. Up close, he could make out each detail of her youthful but hard face. Her eyes were so bright, they almost glowed green over the black mesh-metal mask over her mouth. She was dressed in a black coat, navy leggings, combat boots, and a short leather skirt that was completed with a strange arm band. She sheathed her combat knife in a holster on one of her many belts and frowned. “You’re a Blue”, she whispered.

“Harry Styles, second class”, Harry informed quickly. “I-I have my-”

“I don’t care”, she interrupted. “What are you doing out? You should’ve been home ages ago.”

“I di-didn’t realize-”

“Enough.” She held up a hand, only the fingers exposed from a pair of ruined cotton gloves. “Night gets freezing. You need shelter for the time being. You’re coming with me.”

“You’re not going to-”

“No, I won’t kill you. I won’t feed you to ghouls. I won’t do nuffing nasty to you. Got it? If you want to live, come with me.” She sauntered off, picking up the rifle from the ground and headed for the distance. Harry chased after her.

“I don’t even know your name. How can I trust you?” he questioned.

“You ain’t got much of a choice”, she muttered, lighting a cigar. “But if you gotta know, I’m Minstrel. A scout for the Cat Branch.”

“Cat Branch?” Harry repeated. “What is that?”

“Nuffing you need to trouble yourself with”, Minstrel grumbled. “Shut your gabber. Dorian will explain everything.”

Harry bit his lip. “I look forward to meeting him”, he murmured.

Minstrel flicked ash his way and didn’t say anything. She marched on, staring into the sun as she whistled in between puffs of her cigarette. It was a tune Harry somewhat recognized, one he heard the birds sing when he was home. They sang back to Minstrel but the moment Harry tried to join in, her whistling and the birds’ singing stopped. He wasn’t much of one for music anyway, so he shyly let his harmony fade into silence before Minstrel spoke.

“Always remember to follow the sun”, she whispered.

He pursed his lips. “What does that mean?” he inquired.

“Exactly what it sounds like”, she snapped. “Follow. The damned. Sun.”

“Got it.” Harry went quiet and did exactly what he was told, thankful they didn’t run into anymore Wrongs until Minstrel reached a hodge podge of metal she called a gate. “Bluey, welcome to Haven.”

Notes

A few things!

1- A SPECIAL FUCKING THANKS TO CHAOTICROADS FOR SUCH A DELICIOUSLY AMAZING COVER!

2- I'm trying something different by writing in third person. Does it work? Lemme know!

3-This song is totes inspired by JJ Demon's Windows which is really good. He's kind of a scene-rapper (my favourite relic from my 2011 scene phase ). Don't be scared to check it out :3