Once the Dust Settled and Stars Fell

(Part 1) 

The Great Purge had happened so fast. 

   They came in like a tidal wave of destruction, sorrow trailing as its wake. 

Cloaked in a dark blue, almost black, and faces veiled by hoods and cowls. 

  Each bearing the same exact symbol. 

  The Earth, yes. But a red handprint placed on top of it, though not a lovely red. 

   Red like someone dipped their hand in blood then placed it on the shoulder of all who wore it. 

  They called themselves The Earth’s Handprint. 

  Their total conquest displaced many families, those who weren’t dead by their red hands already. Some were driven under the surface of the Earth, others became refugees to a different planet. Some just joined them. 

     Among those still wandering, was a family no longer in need of being called by a last name. For what good is one in a world destroyed such as this? In a world where your lives are supposed to be crushed? In a world where dust and blood hold reign? This family had been running even before they carried a little girl, named from the life they live. A wanderer. Dustwalk. Face, hair, clothes, all weathered from the constant onslaught of dust and decay. But the girl had become a ray of hope, something to keep them going. A reason to find somewhere safe. 

   Somewhere safe…. Heh. A scarcity these days. Where the dust parades around the skies and landscapes, scaring away the sun and stars… still they tried their best. To try to find some place to rest, where they would not need to steal for food, constantly hide and risk their lives reaching camp spots of the Handprint just to get a bite to eat, then travelling on. The place they sought out, rumors they heard on the wind, called the Underground. So they wandered in search. Here is where the story picks up. 

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Dustwalk:

They’d been riding for weeks on end. Though, oftentimes it felt so much longer, almost years for me. I was so young—so… Defenseless. Yet they still kept me around. I was burdensome almost, only ten years old, each day of those years, spent running. Even though the Great Purge had started then, 12 years ago. Still, the Earth’s Handprint held power. Scrounging around  for survivors like starved animals. They just seemed to keep coming, as if brainwashed. Despite that, no one knows who they are.  

       Anyways… Father knew we would have to stop sooner or later. There was not much more our fatigued bodies could take. As a child, I wondered why we had to keep running and running…  but now I know. I know all too well. Little did I know, understanding turned out to be the worst thing you could do. 

     An exhaustion that seeps deeply into your bones started to set in. The type that makes your limbs feel like stone weights dragging you along, as a shell gliding across the dusty ground. We’d managed to make our way to a more sheltered area. It was almost like a mesa, I think they are called, clay or stone formations towered above us. I could not tell the difference, the dust was too thick. All I could see was the silhouettes. But that seemed enough for my parents, a perfect place to tuck away and hide. Just to even get a brief moment of rest. We just needed to find the spot. 

   Our bikes glided silently across the dusty grounds, like specters of old. My parents snagged some time along our travels. I don’t remember whether or not they were abandoned or not. Either way, it did not matter where they had come from. Now, my mother and father rode close to the tall structures, eyes beneath their masks searching amongst them. There. Somewhere to rest, they found it. The bikes pulled into cover, two nearby nooks in the stone formations. One for the bikes, one for us. The nooks in the rock formations we chose were hard to pick out unless you  were really looking for them. My parents drew sort of sheets across the  gap between the nook of the rock and the barren ground. Able to sort of  hang it, they certainly blended in, browned and weathered enough to melt into  the scenery. They did the same for our little nook. It blocked out some of the dust, enough so that we could breathe freely for at least a moment.  

   My eyes  had  grown heavy with exhaustion by then. We all took a moment to breathe. My parents pulled down their masks for a moment.. I could see  their faces now. That was a rarity, but it was always worth it. My father pulled some rations of scavenged goods, weakly almost. They were slightly dusty but at least  it was food, we’d grown used to it by now. I  had to get help taking off my mask, it was still so hard for me to breathe as a little girl. The dust had always crept too much into my little lungs. So I’d start wheezing and coughing while my parents tried to soothe me. I usually ended up with my mask back on, after I ate something.

  After eating, I almost immediately passed out, being so  fatigued and tired. Yet somehow, my parents kept going. I could hear them softly discussing who would keep watch first. Neither of my parents were very violent people, if they spotted something off, they’d just quietly have  us pack up and get moving again. They never resorted  to violent actions unless absolutely necessary. They were gentle and caring people, who loved each other very much. Enough so they’d go to the end of the Earth and  back for each other, and when they fell off the edge, go down holding hands. They, of course, loved me deeply as well. Unfortunately… I was never able to appreciate it back  then, but now… I know.

  It wasn’t long before we had to leave our hiding place. My parents gathered up the bikes and our supplies, as well as the half asleep little girl I was. But at least... We got some rest. So, we continued on. Traveling maybe a month before we got the very first glimmer of hope in a very long time. This next part, I remember as clearly as I see you all before me now. 

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   The dust had died down a little, a rare sight, a rare experience. It was simply a gentle sweeping across the ground, not a choking, all consuming thing filling the air. Rarer still, we could faintly see the stars and moon. At least, I was pretty sure that was what the lights in the sky were. But the remaining haze drew a veil across them. It reminded me of the cowls the Handprint wore. That particular thought made me uneasy. So, I focused on the lights hiding behind. 

   I watched as structures climbed from the dusty surface. The ruins of what must have once been a city. Broken and beaten down structures. Some scorched, some simply decaying or demolished, eaten away by the storms. Perhaps the ruined buildings were what discouraged the rampant dust, shying away from buildings that once stood strong. 

    Now, I could feel my parents' grip on me softly tighten. The bikes slowed on approach to the buildings. The ruined city came closer and closer into sight until their presence imposed upon us. Gazing down with gaping holes as eyes and slacked jaws. Now here we were, before a building, mildly intact, but it did not look like it would provide much shelter to a weary traveler. Which I found was strange, even as my father climbed off his bike. Then he passed me, their little girl, most precious possession, back to my mother. I clung to her now, unsure. My father now approached the ruined building. He walked straight for the broken jaw that must have once been called a door, seeming to check if the coast was clear. He said something I couldn’t make out, then he disappeared right into its mouth. 

   I was scared, wondering if the gaping mouth of the ruined structure had swallowed my father whole. My mother herself seemed anxious, but held me close. Minutes passed by, they felt longer than that. I watched the lights in the sky for a few moments. But soon, my father returned, but this time he wasn’t alone. I held onto my mother a bit tighter. 

   “Who-“ She blurted, voice soft and faint, it would get lost in the roaring winds of the Wastelands if not listened to closely. The Wastelands are what we call the endless scenery void of life. Some people call it Imprinted Earth, others are too uneasy to even slightly reference the Handprint. 

Anyway, my father replied softly to my mother.

   “It’s okay… love… he’s not against us…” My father gently tried to assure us, softly touching my mother’s hands.

     “Please, inside… it’s safer there.” The new person said, doing a weak motion. My dad nodded and softly ushered us in to follow the individual. We trusted my father, and he had trusted this stranger, so we knew we should trust that, too. 

    We slipped into the ruined tower, the stranger said little, but most people among the Wastelands spoke little, too. I personally almost never said a word. The tower provided a little shelter from the elements, certainly more than anywhere we’d recently stopped. We could see clearer than ever, it was strange. Although that tower was ruined, this stranger seemed to make good use of it. There were some various things, like sheets covering things unknown. A loft type thing, that could’ve once been another floor, had something strange in it. Partially covered by the sheet, I could see what could have been a wing, made out of lightweight material. I assumed it wasn’t a bird, I did not know what a bird looked like. They couldn’t be that big, could they? Big enough a person could ride it. Could they be that motionless? Not unless it was dead… but who would keep a dead bird around? I kept wondering about these things until the stranger spoke up again, then I realized I could see him a bit too. But not well enough, as he had goggles on and a sort of bandana to block the dust from getting into his lungs. 

“Here- There’s a safer place-“ the stranger began, kneeling. The movement caused my father to shift in a protective manner.    

   “Why should we trust that, exactly?” my father challenged. 

The stranger slowly raised his hands to show he was not trying anything. “There’s a door-“ The stranger quietly said, carefully lowering one hand to dust the floor off some. My father watched. “You’re right though- you probably shouldn’t trust me. I’ll say more if you just let me… “ the stranger replied, faint. My father gave a slight nod. The stranger gave a sigh of relief. “Thanks…” He then dusted off the floor to reveal a hatch on the ground, with what looked like something that would be on the bikes, only with numbers, I couldn’t read them too well though. Then he pressed some buttons on it, and the hatch opened.

    “Quickly.” Was all he said.

 “You first.” My father warned the stranger.      

    “Me first.” The stranger repeated. Then he disappeared down the hatch. 

      After a few moments, the stranger's voice called up. "Coming…?" he called faintly. 

   "I guess..." My father replied softly. Then, he nodded softly to my mother and I, clarifying he would go before us just in case. 

    "Be careful." My mother told him, he nodded. 

   "Of course…" He assured her. My father followed down the hatch. My mother and I waited in suspense, worried. But relief came as my father's voice called up. "It's ok. I'll help you down." His voice faintly called. 

   "Alright…" My mother replied. She gently led me to the hatch first, keeping watch behind us. I uneasily let go of her, and made my way to the hatch. I understood ladders, of course, but when I first started down I nearly lost my footing. Luckily, my father was there to help me. He caught me, I sucked in a scared breath then continued. Down a few rungs, my feet soon touched the bottom. 

   My father called up, once I was safe in the secret room. "Your turn." He called up to my mother. 

   "Ok." She replied. 

"When you're down, I'll close the hatch." The stranger spoke up from somewhere near my father. "It's just so any wandering Handprint groups don't find us… " He added softly. 

   "You'll let us out, yes?" My mother asked, calling.

   "Yes. Quickly now." He answered. 

"Right." My mother said, before descending the ladder. Soon, she joined us down the hatch. I felt someone brush past me as I held my father's hand. I pulled back, slightly startled, and gasped faintly. This was scary, it wasn't my mother, instead, it was the stranger. That was odd,though I could tell because he had a different build to his body, he was significantly smaller than my father, though bigger than me. Now the stranger, I could hear, was climbing up the ladder. He reached the top, I could see his shape climbing it from the faint light seeping in from the stars and moon. Then he closed the hatch, shutting out any light coming in. 

    That scared me, my father carefully held my hand and my mother came close. But, the stranger was the one who made an attempt to calm us down some. "Hey, there- don't worry-" The stranger started, his voice coming down from what seemed to be halfway up the ladder. There was a soft click, and lights flickered on.

  Our vision was fully illuminated,

   I was quite startled and stumbled some back towards my father. "See-?" the stranger tried. 

"Oh-" One of my parents blurted.

  "I see-" added the other, and that was quite true as well. We could now see the most clear we ever could. I'd never been inside something like this. I looked up to where the stranger was, given we could see him in full too, as he climbed down the ladder. He hopped off it and landed with a soft thunk on what must've been an almost metal floor. My parents and I moved some away.

     The stranger had pulled down his bandana and put his goggles on top of his head. This stranger, I soon realized, was younger than I thought. You would not have guessed it, he looked older, but he couldn’t have been much more than 13. Just 3 years older than myself at the most. He had reddish pinkish hair, though a faded and weathered form, drawn back in a bit of a bun. With curious orange colored eyes and a chipped tooth. He had the face an adult would wear, but with the youthful softness of a boy no older than thirteen. Quite in contrast, I would observe the sharpened features of age on my parents' faces. My hair was a dusty brownish blonde, so was my mother's, with my father's a mix of brown and blondish colors. Deeply different from this boy's. 

    My father now spoke up. "Now… Why are we here?" He said, mostly rhetorically I assume. 

   The boy exhaled slightly, "Because you learned that I'm part of this sort of resistance thing… and know about a place you can go for a safer place." The young man explained. "And I already know you're clean from talking it over with him." He nodded to my father. "So yep." He added. I watched him, realizing something terrible must have happened for him to be living such a life. 

   "This safer place, it's called The Underground, you said." My father spoke up, going back on the original subject.

   "Yes. Not too far from here, a few day's travel, that's your safest bet." The boy confirmed.

   "How do we get in, and how exactly do we get there?" My father asked. 

   The boy sort of snapped his fingers. "Both very good questions." He said. 

Then the boy began to describe some directions. I mentally documented every twist and turn. We stood in a sort of bunker-like area, with buttons and machines about. "And once you get there, you'll need to clear yourself." He continued. 

"And?" My father pressed, questioning.

   "Call me Keaton- Kel Keaton, that name will get you in." The boy sort of blurted. 

Kel Keaton. I'd remember that name. I'd carry it on and on, for it could be very important. Then maybe… This Kel fellow could be a good person to know later on. "And since we're doing introductions, it would be helpful to know what to call you folks… '' Kel Keaton continued on. My mother tensed again, to which my father responded by gently squeezing her shoulder. 

   However, I didn't feel any danger from this boy who called himself Kel Keaton.            

Because of this, to everyone's shock, I spoke up. "I'm Dustwalk." I told him, walking right up and offering a handshake. My parents were shocked, and honestly worried. My mother gently touched my arm. I just took my other hand and patted hers softly, to say it was okay. Kel was surprised too, staring wide a moment with his orange eyes. He accepted my handshake. 

"Nice- to meet you. You've got such a fascinating name." Kel replied, giving a bit of a smile. That was probably the most amazing thing I'd ever seen. He smiled, it was rare to see anyone in the Wastelands smiling, or even accepting a handshake. 

   Rather surprised, my parents ended up following my lead. "Call me Auril." My father then nodded to my mother. "Her, Selkie." He added. My mother nodded slowly, confirming. The boy, Kel, gave a nod. 

   "Thanks for telling me, it makes my job a bit easier…" He smiled a little more. It gave me a warm feeling. This boy, somehow, still had the fire of hope burning in his eyes, despite seemingly all alone in this twisted world. 

    My father seemed to grow restless. "I think it would be best to head out now. The faster we get there, the better." He spoke up. 

   Kel Keaton seemed surprised. "Are you sure you don't want something to eat or anything-" The boy said, voice catching the tone of innocence that lay beneath.  My father was still unsure of this. He was scared. I understand that now. 

   "Thank you- but I think we'll manage-" My father replied. I couldn't understand why he was so wary, Kel was just a kid. He couldn't do much to hurt us, could he? 

   Kel Keaton slowly lowered his head, giving a nod. "Okay." He said, watching as my father ushered my mother and I back up the ladder. I couldn't help but look back at the Keaton boy and his flying machine, as we passed to leave. 

  "Thank you… " I whispered back towards him. Kel gave a smile beneath the bandana once again pulled up. He slightly waved I think. My parents too, were grateful, but did not say anything. We gathered our gear, silent. Now our bikes once again set out into the dust choked night. 

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   So once more we set off. Our travels went as usual.

… That was, until a bit more than halfway to The Underground. 

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  We had camped out, exhausted from tireless travels. Our guard was down. But, mere moments mean more than one would expect. 

  For just a second- Just a single moment-

Things can go horribly wrong. 

A moment too late. 

   The bloodthirsty howl of endless engines echoed through the swirling dust. Engines exclusive to only…  the reddened Handprints that lay upon Earth. The claws that ripped across the planet leaving only scars. 

   My parents called out to one another. They tried to keep me calm. "It's okay- sweetheart- it's okay. We will deal with this-"

  Mere lies, lies that I believed. 

But what could a pair of weathered travelers… 

  Do against a horde of such ruthless monsters? 

   "If things go bad- Dust, promise us- promise us you'll run, you'll get away. You'll get help… please." They begged…  I wanted to refuse. But I could see in their eyes that if I was gone…  all this struggle we'd endured…  would have been for nothing. 

  My parents prepared. I was hidden. I couldn't hear the muffled chatter between the adults… but I knew, I was sure, something was bound to go badly. One way or another. 

   "You will lay down your supplies and come with us. You wouldn't want the little girl to see what we are capable of, would you?"

A member of the Handprint said smoothly. 

They knew. 

They knew I was there. 

The dread that must've set in upon my parents… the fear. 

How..? 

  My parents' eyes flicked back towards me, I could see it in their eyes. Those told me all I needed to know. 

 Run Dust, please, run… They implored with their eyes. An order. 

   Everything happened so fast. I listened. I took off with one of their packs. I had to climb on one of the bikes and start it. I knew how in case of a situation exactly like this one. 

  The Handprint let me go, uttering something along the lines of "She won't last, let her go."

  My parents left me with a silent promise in their eyes. 

   'We'll see you again, some day, some how.'

The message echoed in my mind.

"Keep hope."  My parents would've told me. They disappeared behind me, whisked away by the seemingly unending dust. Some loud sounds followed, maybe a struggle. Then taken away by the roar of the wind. 

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   So I rode the bike for several days and nights on end. I just repeated the directions I'd gotten from the boy at the tower in my mind. On and on… until the bike's engine sputtered out, losing its will to go on,much like I had wanted to. But I couldn't. I had to keep going. Running, running, running, until I couldn't anymore. Then I collapsed. Crying and crying until I could no longer and exhaustion took me in its grasp.

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    I have no idea how long I was out… 

   Next thing I knew… I woke up in a strange place. It was somewhere inside, I knew. There was no dust swirling around. There were bright lights searing into my weary eyes. It hurt…I was laying on something, I did not know what it was but it was more comfortable than the ground, or the bike. My heart was pounding in my chest. I was… so scared. The boy from the tower somehow remained in my mind as everything hit. Was I to be in the same position as he? 

Alone. 

  By myself in this twisted world?

   Soon the murmur of voices talking amongst themselves seeped into my ears. I worried more. A voice spoke up."She's awake." I tried to struggle, to get up, to get away… but I could not find the strength. My body, weak, from hunger and exhaustion. "Calm down- miss, please- you need to rest still." A man's soft voice implored me.

   My eyes slowly adjusted. There was indeed a man, perhaps he was the same age as my parents… I was uneasy, I had not met many good hearted adults. This man was not threatening in appearance, though. He wore a pair of glasses which he pushed up to the bridge of his nose, holding a sort of board. The man's hair was a pale silver like color, with streaks of a yellowish color in it. He had a strange thing around his neck, with a cord or tube thing that had a round thing at the bottom. He wore a strange outfit, too, a long white coat and a shirt with some colorful yet faded designs, as if they hadn't seen sunlight in a while. In fact, the man seemed this way too, pale. 

   The man continued. "Please, could you calm down some? I need to check in on your condition- you have multiple afflictions that need to be tended to." I didn't completely understand what he was saying, but I stopped fighting, though keeping my guard up. 

   The man took a deep breath, maybe hoping that I would follow his example. I didn't. "I'm sure you're very confused- and scared- so let's just start simple." He began, softly. "I'm Doctor Luric Micah, and… Welcome to the Underground."

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    Dustwalk slowly sighed with relief after finishing her story. "I was first terrified by new people, like Doctor Micah. But look at me now… here I am, four years later. Staying with his boys and his family." She says softly. 

  The twins, twelve years old, Stryker and Ryker chime in. "And we're happy to have you!" Before each hugging her from the side. Dustwalk smiles fondly at them, and at her friends. 

  "I'm happy to be here too, with all of you. Maybe even including Starlet and Sundrip." She slightly teases, smiling at the two others with her besides the twins. They both laugh a little. "Gee, thanks." the one named Starlet commented. 

   "I always forget you learned a sense of humor!" Sundrip replies. "Say, why doesn't Starlet tell his story next?" She adds.

   "That sounds alright to me." Dustwalk answers. 

  "Yeah! Yeah! Tell us, Starlet!" The twins interject in sync, pulling away from Dustwalk. "Okay, okay, fine, I'll go next." Starlet gives a slight smile. 

(To be continued)