The thin veil of warmth surrounded him, gently cradling him from the harshness of the waking world. It was a miniscule amount of protection that he would admit.
But still, he appreciated it for the little reprieve it granted him from the freezing cold gales that ravaged the world outside the shelter. Atleast, he appreciated it while he got it.
“Siiiiiixer?” Chimed a voice through the haze of his mind, the silky words slipped through the cracks of his mind and pried it open to the noise of the raging wind and the occasional sound of footsteps that tottered around him. But he chose not to respond. Even the slightest amount of time he could extend in his world of warmth was worth any scolding he could get.
“Sixer c’mon, I know you’re up.” The voice called, a little more sternly this time. But he could hear the smile in their voice as they desperately tried to sound firm. A few seconds passed as he buried his face deeper into the warm being beneath him, he could vaguely feel his beard pushing up against his nose and cheeks from his facing trying to bury into the warmth in front of him. A few harsh prods to his head and cheeks brought a frown to his sleepy face as the voice above him chuckled “Don’t make me do this Sixer, we can do this way easier. You don’t gotta be a stubborn ass~” His assailant promised with a sickly sweet voice. “Mmm-mm” he grunted in protest, tilting his face so it was pointed away from the angry, jabby fingers that sought to pull him from his rest.
A heavy sigh came from above as soft, warm hand wrapped around his face. Gently caressing his harsh features that had smoothed out in relaxation, gently tracing a finger across his cheek and along a little scar that dragged across his face. The gentle motion pulled a hum from deep in his chest as he tilted his head further into those soft hands that cradled his head as gently as possible as he let a little smile crawl across his face.
“Oh Sixer, you really gotta be like that huh?” They huffed as he nuzzled closer to those warm hands. The being above him shifted a bit as he felt them physically come close as he instinctively tilted his head up to meet them with his eyes still blissfully closed.
The sudden dampness and its accompanying warmth struck him like a shot in the night, sending a powerful jolt down his spine. Instinctively his limbs flailed as his body naturally tried to flee the sudden assault upon his sleeping body.
Thrown onto the cold wood beneath him, Jones starred up at the being who now sat in his comfy cot with a look of utter betrayal on his face as the temperature set into his body. Williams sat cross legged on the small cot they had previously been on, her t-shirt mildly messed up and a smug look on her face. As the shock overcame him, the damp patch on his forehead had become cold in the breeze. “Did… did you just lick me?” Jones asked with an air of disbelief and disgust. She shrugged, reaching up and gently adjusting her hair “I told you to get up Sixer” She cooed before standing and strolling away from the still shaken man “Get up Six, we’re on trail duty today” She called over her shoulder as she continued on her way.
The sheer icy wind whipped around them at break-neck speeds. Their thick coats and heavy boots did little to protect them from the raging winds and the biting cold that nipped at their skin. The flurries of snow spiraled around them as they danced to and fro at the wind’s command.
Winters had always been known for their biting cold, but when the apocalypse hit the earth was torn asunder and its elements became unbound. Winter didn't just last a few months now anymore, there were no three month seasons. No, the seasons instead lasted years at a time. Of course sometimes it would be ever so slightly warmer or colder, but that was little consolation to the few surviving humans that were huddled within the maker tree, desperately attempting to ration what little food and warmth they had. The mutated remnants of cattle and sheep they had sectioned off within the underground part of the tree provided as much as they could, but they had to be careful. If they slaughtered too many, they wouldn't be able to have more for when the spring years hit.
Jones and Williams had opted to head out into the blizzard, despite the protests of many within the tree pointing out that they where the best hunters they had and that they couldn’t afford to lose them to the blizzard. But the blizzard was the exact reason why they had to go. Cold didn’t affect them like it did the others and it meant they could venture out just that little bit further for just that bit longer. And sometimes that was the most anyone could ask for and it meant they brought back just that little bit extra.
As they trudged through the sickly grey slush, the horrid mix of snow and ash that fell from the sky and clung to them even as they moved. It didn’t even smell like snow, it smelt like damp and rot and clung to the senses like a slick paste in the nose and mouth so much so you could practically taste it.
The shadows of the buildings dragged over head as they passed slowly on foot in deafening silence. “Still not used to travelling like this” Jones huffed, breaking the silence as he cast a glance to Williams and giving him a brief reprieve from the storms onslaught. “You’re telling me. M’feet are freezing off, i can’t fuckin feel my toes.” She sneered, pulling the hood of her jacket tighter around her face, garnering a chuckle from Jones. “You still haven’t gotten used to the cold huh?” He snorted with a devilish smirk. “Fuck you, I live in a swamp! You’re used to this pointy nipple shit” Williams spat as she pulled her arms close to her chest, Jones smirk only growing “I mean, I would happily warm the girls up. You know i go-OUCH HEY!” He yelped and darted his hands to cover his side as Williams went for another hit with her elbow “Not on your life perv.” She poked at him.
Their teasing lightened the dour mood that surrounded them as they walked. But it was cut short when Jones’ keen ears caught onto the distant sound of the cocking of a gun. In that moment it felt as though time slowed down, Jones took hold of his companions arm and swung her behind him with one hand, whilst in the other hand a gun slipped down outta his sleeve and comfortably into the palm of his hand. At the same time, trusting Jones’ instinct, Williams moved with the momentum and got herself back to back with Jones, her daggers flowing down into her palms as fluidly as water.
“Wha’do’we got sixer?” She whispered as she scanned her surroundings as best she could with weather conditions. “Sniper, two buildings over. Think its the 20th floor, can’t be too certain with this fuckin snow.” He snapped under his breath, not at Williams but at the shitty situation they were in. “Human?” She asked quietly but firmly, trying to make her voice carry only as far as it needed to. However the sound of several more gun’s cocking, barely feet from them that did not also carry the stench of brimstone kind of answered it for her. “If i had to guess…” he muttered, feelings a small wash of relief over him. Human’s he could handle.
Co-ordinated as best they could, several beings training rifles on the duo, the barrels shaking slightly in the frigid wind. “Drop your weapons!” One of the group demanded, it sounded like the one closest to strife. “Listen man… You don’t wanna do this…” Jones assured softly, slowly lowering his gun whilst gesturing with his free hand “Easy, we’re all friends he-” “FUCK YOU! We’re not your friend!” Spat the one closest to Williams, the person taking a step forward as they steadied their gun on Williams. “Hun, you don’t wanna do that… trust us…” She reasoned softly, swiftly tucking one of the blades into his sleeve as she reached up towards the gun to try and softly move it out of the way and away from her face.
That didn’t work out however, the person holding it slapped her hand away with the barrel and shoved it directly under Williams chin. “Fuck you bitch, you don’t know what we want.” The person spat harshly. “I know you probably want somewhere safe to stay. I know you’re probably hungry and could use somewhere warm to spend the night, right?” Jones tried to reason, before slowly pointing in the direction of haven. “We come from haven. Its a safe place for humans. The makers there wi-”
A gun pointed between his eyes cut jones off real quick. “Oh, so you’re in league with those giant fucks huh? Those fuckers came here when everything went to shit! What are you? Their fucking pets? Hm? Is that it?! You fucking traitors!” they snarled at him like a rabid dog. “We should kill you for just siding with those monsters!” they screamed in anguish. Jones’ shoulders slumped in defeat as he looked the other being in the eyes “Don’t make us do this. Please, just walk away from this.” He pleaded desperately. The finger on the gun in front of him twitched above the trigger. “Fine then, we doin’ it the hard way” Williams said sadly.
The duo dragged a pair of hefty bags behind them, a makeshift sled made of wood was all that separated their prizes from the freezing cold ground beneath. Jone’s outfit was splattered in blood and viscera, vaguely smeared where he had attempted to brush and wipe it off. Despite the fact that below the knees his clothing appeared to be frozen directly to the skin, cracking with every movement.
On the other hand, Williams' entire being seemed to be frozen solid, her clothes and hair clung to her body. The more she walked, the more it was like her clothes were going to physically shatter off of her body, like panes of glass shattered by a rogue stone.The mood had severely soured, their head pointed to the floor and where refusing to meet any gaze, especially not each others.
The harsh wind had slowed down, the snow didn't come in aggressive flurries anymore. Instead it fell in a soft and heavy blanket that covered the darkness of the world below and the sins that had occurred. The crunching of boots was all that was heard, they were each other's only source of sound in the deafening silence.
It took him all his strength, but Jones forced himself to peer ever so slightly towards Williams. Her face was stoic, but her eyes were downcast and sorrowful. Today had not gone how it was supposed to, it was supposed to be easy… It was supposed to be a calm supply run…
“Hey…” He muttered softly, cocking his head so he could peer around her raised jacket collar, “Mmm?” she hummed curiously as she turned her head towards him, looking as if she had been pulled out of deep thought. “You wanna… like, go chill?” he asked with a forced smile, dropping it as a frown appeared on her face. “Pun’s sixer? Really? Right now?” She hissed in annoyance as she pulled her arms closer to her chest. Jones huffed and frowned “No, no i mean like. Chill chill.” He said, nodding towards one of the abandoned buildings, with her face suddenly changing from a scowl to surprise “Oh, oooooh.” She mused, before allowing a little smile to grace her face “Sure.” She chimed, reaching and taking the hand that Jones offered her and allowing herself to be led towards the building and shelter from the raging storm.
Jone’s hefted the bags through the tight gap in the wall while Williams made herself at home in the remains of the rundown building, perching herself on the pile of wood that may have once been a desk and chair. She picked at the dirt and grime beneath her fingernails absentmindedly, merely appreciating the reprieve from the howling wind and frigid cold that where just feet from her.
A heavy grunt pulled hehr attention up from her fingers and onto Jones who had just successfully wedged the bags against a wall. “Well, they’re not going anywhere!” He huffed happily, turning to her and giving the bag a test kick to confirm it did in fact not move. “Congrats Sixer, you still got the ab muscles to move it” She relented with a quick smile before turning her eyes back to the floor. Jones let a soft chuckle out as he strolled towards her.
By the time he had reached her side however, the illusion had faded away. It wasn’t Jones who sat by her side, instead it was Strife who towered over her with ease. “You wanna talk about it?” He asked softly, resting a massive hand on top of hers. She let a sigh roll off her chest, her shoulders slumping in defeat as her own illusion shimmered away, her true form revealing itself.
In a moment under his own armour clad hand was one that was only a fraction smaller, clad in heavy brown leathers tipped with metal claws. Strife stared at Plague for a moment, her mask still tilted to the ground, refusing to meet his eyes. “Plague, c’mon, what's eating you” He prodded gently, reaching out to gently move a few of the heavy strands of hair that clung to her chest and neck back behind her head with a heavy clunk.
Silence hung in the room for what felt like an eternity, the only sound being the occasional wisp of wind that would howl outside. Strife didn’t want to push her, but then again, he wasn’t sure if it was wise to let her bring this back to haven. He went to speak when suddenly she gave his hand a tight squeeze, instantly shutting him up.
“They were supposed to be better than us…” She spoke softly, as if ashamed to let her opinion be known. She squeezed her eyes shut even beneath her mask to distance herself further from him. “What?” He asked, admittedly a little too sharply. Plague huffed and slipped her hand out from beneath his own, letting it sit limply in her lap. “I mean that, despite how awful and depraved we were, we never turned on each other.” She stated firmly, scowling downard, as if at some unseen opponent. The silence wasn’t just awkward, it tense as fuck. Strife glowing yellow eyes almost burning a hole into the side of her head.
“You’re kiddin’ me, right?” Strife asked in the hope this was one of Plagues’ shit jokes. Plague groaned, slipping off of the table and trudging across the room “No Sixer, I’m not. Come on, you know I’m right. In the horde, we always had each other's back. If someone fuck with one nephilim they fucked with us all!” she waved her hands in exasperation “We were there for eachother!” “We killed people Plague!” Strife bit back, launching himself off the table and over towards her “And not just people, worlds! We murdered worlds Plague!” He snapped at her like he was talking to a child.
Despite her full face mask, Strife could practically feel the snarl on her face as she glared up at him with all the force she could muster “We didn’t know better Strife.” She hissed at him, Strife blinked in the briefest moment of shock. She really must be pissed if she used his actual name. “We were a young race with a bad leader! The humans have no excuse not to band together! Even if they hate each other!” She gestured back to the bag a few feet from her “Look what we had to do Strife! They had no reason to attack us! But look what happened, they’re turning on each other like animals!” She pointed out, a few recogniseable guns sticking out of one of the bags behind her. “They were a few bad ones Plague, you know they’re not all li-” “Don’t even try that Strife” Plague cut him off. “How many people in haven have left other settlements for that exact reason. Because of cannibals, rapists, murder’s and sodomizers. Face it Strife. Outside of haven, humanity’s fu-”
A chunk of wood across the room, shattering against the wall on impact. “You don’t know that, we’re only in one part of earth, there could be others!” He barked, pointing at her in accusation. Plague just shrugged her arms and turned to leave. Stopping just before the door to look at him “No matter what, I don’t think we deserved to be replaced by them” She hissed over her shoulder before grabbing a bag a slipping through the whole in the wall, by the time she was outside, Plague was gone and was replaced once again by Williams. Strife scowled at the space where she once resided. The walk back was going to be tense as fuck.
Williams trugged down through haven, avoiding the saddened and concerned looks that came her way from the survivors in the tree. What they had to do today was, frowned upon persay. Everyone in haven knew she and Jones wouldn’t go out of their way to injure another survivor. That’s not what they did. The pair of them saved other survivors, they single handedly had saved at least a quarter of the survivors in haven.
But today they had killed an entire group of them and scavenged their supplies. There was no point in just leaving them there, they could benefit haven. But even by nephilim standards, that was fucked up.
She ignored them all as she headed down to the depths of the tree. Nephilim were used to ignoring the odd looks cast at them, even if these looks were meant in a far kinder way. In the very bottom of the tree, controlled by a rune circle, was a giant communal pool that was often used for bathing and washing clothes. It was usually very busy this late in the day.
So she was guessing Ulthane asked everyone to clear the area, as it was practically abandoned. Rolling her shoulders and hearing a satisfying pop from the right one. She plodded over to the pool and gently ran her fingers across the ring of runes that surrounded it. The hue quickly changed to a soft red for a brief moment before going back to its soothing blue. She didn't wait to hear the soft bubbling of the water, she knew it was going to happen. Instead she quickly stripped out of her clothes, throwing each piece into the water as she did so, gently placing the closest thing she had to clean clothes on the floor by the pool.
She sat down on the side, briefly stirring her clothes with a foot she had dipped into the water before slipping in herself and wading through them until she got to the deeper part of the pool. She didn’t go to the deepest part, her legs were tired and she didn’t fancy swimming. No, chest deep water would do more than enough for her this evening, she could already feel the icy feeling from earlier slowly melting away from her skin as the warmth sank deep into her bones in some kind of deep and eternal hug. She couldn’t stop the satisfied sigh that rolled from her lips.
Wading over to grab a hold of one of the bars of soap the survivors had made and dragged it with her into the water with her as she perched herself on the side lip of the pool with her small pile of clothes. She wasn’t sure how long she had been sitting there scrubbing away at her clothes when the tell tale sound of heavy footfalls coming down towards the pool. Williams wasn’t perturbed however, it wouldn't be the first time she had been naked in the pool. Most of the survivors bathed together, although most of them did wear underclothes when they did it.
“Hey…”Came a solemn voice from behind that sent a shock up her spine, snapping her head around to face them. Or, well, him. Jones was standing there, holding his clean clothes in his hand and staring down at his feet like a scolded child. Williams scowled at him, turning her face away from him and back towards her clothes, “What d’ya want?” She snapped coldly, aggressively scrubbing at the clothes in her hands with a vervant fury.
“I wanted to talk… and wash m’clothes” Jones admitted, gesturing towards Williams with his little pile of clothes. Williams scoffed and kept her eyes on her clothes “Well you can do one of those things” She scolded, grabbing up her clothes and walking further around the rim of the pool. She could hear the defeated sigh behind her before the sound of zippers and buckles coming undone came from Jones, followed by several splashes as he cast them into the water not far from where she had been as well as the sound of him wading into the water.
Jones paused, not really knowing what to do being butt ass naked in a pool with his very angry, equally naked companion. “Can I… borrow the soap? Please?” He asked tentatively, edging ever so slightly forward in the water, his hand reaching forward. Williams cast her eyes over her shoulder, briefly eyeing Jones. She sat her clothes down and turned towards him and, using a trick the humans had taught her, shot the soap out of her hand and dead into the centre of his chest. She doubted it hurt, but it made her point clearly.
“Uh, thanks.” Jones said pitifully, catching the soap with relative ease as he looked at her painfully. The next 10 minutes or so passed by in relative silence, just the occasional splashing sound in the water and scrubbing sound from the both of them. “I’m sorry…” He said to break the silence as he continued to scrub at a particularly insistent blood spot on his jacket. The scrubbing sound behind him stopped “....What’d you say?” She asked after a few seconds of quiet. Jones huffed and dropped his clothes into the water and turned to her “I shouldn’t have snapped, or thrown the table.” He stated, clutching the soap desperately as he stared into her eyes “I just… I believe in them. They’re scared and they're angry, but they have so much-”He paused, his face scrunching up as he looked at his reflection in the water. It wasn’t Jones that looked up at him, it was the true him. The killer, the traitor, the monster. The-
“Sixer.” The gentle voice cut through the silence of the room and snapped him out of the stupor and waking him up from the fact he had crushed the soap in his hands. The two halves fell to either side and left a soapy paste in the palm of his hand. He tore his gaze from the palm of his hand and up to Williams. He hadn’t even noticed that she had come within an arm's length of him.
She reached out gently, he fingers stretched out ever so slowly and brushed the tips of his own. Jones curled his hand, gently pulling her towards him before pressing her entire being against his chest. Her face buried into his collar bone, his snuggled into the damp hair on her head. Their hearts thundered against their chests as they held the others so tightly, as if they let go they would slip away into the water permanently.
“I miss the horde, Sixer…” Williams admitted sadly as she held onto him just that little bit tighter. “Plague-” “I know I shouldn’t” She admitted, cutting him off “I know we were awful, I know we were depraved and animal-like. But, they were us. We were them.” She continued on as she turned her face so that she looked towards Jone’s neck. “We put our people in the ground, we didn’t even bury them. When I see the humans… they have so much, even after everything they've gone through. They have each other and they turn on eachother” Williams chuckled sadly “I wish they knew how lucky they were… What I wouldn’t give, for just a few more of us. Just a handful…” She stopped, reigning herself in before her voice betrayed her.
Jones sighed, gently running his thumb across the back of her neck as the other desperately clasped her back and waist. “I… I do understand. Please trust me, I do.” He tightened his grip on her “But we do got others, I know it's not the same, but the humans…” He took a deep breath, hoping these next words would ring true to her “They can be a family to us, they’re gonna need us.” He mused quietly “And, we got the others. I mean i know a few of them have the emotional range of a teaspoon but-” He stopped when an almost missable giggle rolled off of Williams chest “It’s ok Sixer, you can say Death.” She snorted as she peered up at him. How dare she have such wonderful eyes. Her illusion didn’t fool his eyes, he could see those brilliant green eyes staring back up at him. “Despite that, we’ve got each other. I promise you, we got each other” He assured with a tight squeeze.
A heavy sigh rolled off her lips as she gently pushed back from him, although she still remained in his grip “Sixer-” “And you got me” Jones cut her off this time, gently taking her hand and pressing her hand to his chest where his heart would be “You always got me…” He hummed softly, craning his head down so his forehead pressed to hers and their noses brushed gently.
Williams pulled away dragging her hands close to her body “Jones stop.” Instantly he dropped his hands and took a step back, a look of horror on his face at the thought of overstepping their boundaries “Plague I didn’t mea-” his words died in his throat as he looked at her. There were tears in her eyes as she looked at him, her face contorted in turmoil. “We don’t get to do this… After all we did, we don’t get to do this.” She hissed out, looking down at the hand that had been placed above his heart as if it had been stained with the blood of a loved one.
Jones furrowed his brow “Plague…” He trailed off, gently taking a tentative step towards her. “We destroyed our people-” She snapped around to face him “we don’t get to be cuddly and happy. We don’t get to have a thing, we don’t get to be a thing.” She reaffirmed, partially to him and partially to herself. “Plague please.” He asked, gently reaching out and taking her hand, almost a mirror of how she had done to him earlier. “Our past is our past Plague, that was eons ago… If you stay in the past like that, you’ll drown” He pleaded, shuffling towards her slowly “Maybe we deserve to” she mused to herself. Jones reached over and gently hooked his finger under her chin and pulled her gaze to meet his “Or maybe you deserve to live, hmm?” He asked with a smile “Maybe you deserve to build a life for yourself, to define who you get to be now.” He stated, running his thumb across her bottom lip.
“I dunno Strife, I don’t know if i can-” She muttered, gently nuzzling her face against his hand. “Well, maybe you don’t gotta do it alone...” He proposed with his usual smile, tilting his head akin to a playful puppy, pulling a chuckle out of Williams. She stared at him with a smile on her face, her eyes scanning his for some sort of deceit.
Jones however, took the incentive. He had waited eons to do this after all. He stooped just a little lower, for a moment their lips barely touched before he was brave enough to truly kiss her. Tentative and nervous, as if they thought they where going to be caught at any moment. Williams snaked her arms up to wrap around Jones’ neck as he held her closer then he ever had.
In the reflection of the pool, two happy Nephilim embraced each other, the masks that had previously covered their faces cast aside. No care given to anyone who could’ve walked in during that moment. They had faced worse, and they’d face it together.
I said this to my teenage son while he was picking perfectly cooked strips of pig fat out of a grease-filled pan and laying them on a paper towel to drain. I already knew he was planning to allot me only one slice, adding the rest to his heaping plate of eggs.
He turned from the stove, eyes hard, and I was sure we were going to have the Bacon Fight. But instead he said, “Please don’t ever say that word again.”
There are seven words I am not permitted to utter in front of my kids: Stife, Clutch, Fire, Dope, Swag, Fo’ Shizzle and Chill.
Actually, “Chill” is borderline. Meaning, there are some occasions I can use that word and my sons don’t affect a look as if I’d started dancing in the kitchen in front of their friends. I’m not a bad dancer, and I can easily pull off half those words--but according to my sons, who are 16 and 21, I may do either only in private or with my own friends.
A quick trip to Urban Dictionary provides several meanings for “Stife.” My younger son and his friends employ its third definition: “Used to mean stingy in the very negative sense.” I’ve done my due diligence, and in my view, that’s my initiation fee. But to my boys, I’m barging up the ladder to the tree house, blatantly ignoring the sign that says Keep Out.
When my older son and his friends are together, listening to them talk is like trying to decipher the clicking of the Bantu. It’s all delivered so fast--recognizable words cavorting with the unfamiliar--and there’s not even a moment to ground myself in context clues. I think of it as a unique dialect, perhaps specific to our town--possibly even to our high school. I take in conversations as if they were pieces of music, having no real idea if they’re complaining about finals or making plans to gather somewhere on a Saturday night.
I like words and I always have. I spent years of my boring youth browsing Merriam-Webster the way some foodies might thumb through Yotam Ottolenghi’s books: not for any real purpose--just to absorb what’s there and what one might do with it. My parents liked words too, and when you grow up in a home rich with vocabulary, it feels good and right to be curious and expand your personal lexicon.
“Explain to me how to use ‘swag.’ Give it to me in three sentences. I want to understand,” I’d say to my sons.
Response: “Go away.”
I want talking to be fun, and for me that means discovering new ways to say old things. When I hear my boys talk, it feels as if I’m witnessing the evolution of language in real time. It probably feels to them as it did to me at age 13, when my mother walked into my bedroom and suggested I get some “groovy” wallpaper and window shades that were what she pronounced as “psycha-DILL-ic.”
Deborah Tannen, a professor of linguistics at Georgetown University and author of “You’re Wearing THAT?,” bears this out. “Every group has its own language--terms, expressions, usages that come to characterize the group and give them a sense of belonging when they all use it. When outsiders try to use the language, it’s like they’re trying to break into the group or pretend to be members when they’re not,” Ms. Tannen said.
Obviously, some of my verboten words are fine to use in a middle-aged context. I am free to say “clutch” if I happen to be in a manual transmission automobile, or talk about “fire” if I’m standing at the grill. But both those words mean something different when my sons use them--namely: great, awesome, fabulous. How tired am I of using the word “great” to signify my enthusiasm about something? What’s the big deal if I find a poppin’ new word to break up the monotony?
But to them it is a big deal.
“Kids at that age are particularly eager to establish their identities separate from their parents, which is why they start identifying with friends instead in the first place,” Ms. Tannen said.
I hold out my plate and meet my son’s eyes. “More bacon, please,” I say, as if he hadn’t just kicked me out of the clubhouse (again). We both know this isn’t really about bacon. It’s about connecting. And he knows he’s being stingy, but he doles out another slice.
