Tucked away in the branches of three close trees by a lake once so clear, sat a large upscale tree house, planned to perfection. The ground below the trees was scattered with animal and human traps. Aldra had spent a year in this secluded tree house, wondering about the rest of her country, her excessive pondering brought forth the doubt of human life other then her own. Aldra sat in her bed and hugged her knees to her chest, her dirty hair brushed across her face as she rested her head on her knees. She hadn't left her home in weeks, not a bath, or a food run. She wiped her eyes as tears began to form, "Damn it..." She whispered to herself, her voice quaking with unseen rage. "I can't stay up here forever.." Her tears left visible trails across her dirty skin. She pulled on her ragged bangs as she stood, making her way to some soap and a towel. But, just as her fingers curled around the first fiber of the cheap piece of fabric, a scream of frustration echoed through her window. In a wild frenzy, Aldra grabbed her shot gun and jumped from her window, scanning the forest ground. To her surprise, a trap was hanging in the air, with a boy tangled in the net. She approached him cautiously, poking him with the point of her gun.
"Watch it!" a growl seeped from the lips of this unknown boy. He turned in the net, and meet Aldra's eyes. This boy was somehow familiar, but being stuck in the woods for a year can make you see things. This was no trick of the mind however, rather a pleasant memory of a time before the hell.
"Balthazar..."
The boys face softened at the sound of his name, he looked quizzically at Aldra as if he was combing his mind to find a single memory, to connect a face. He reached his hand out through the mesh. Stretching his fingers out to brush Aldra's hair off her eyes, revealing a small scar over her right eye. That she earned in a fight in middle school.
"You’re alive..." His voice was pained, but filled with excitement. He wished that she had been dead, saved from this hell, but he also prayed for her life. She stared at him for a moment and then cocked her gun, and pointed it at Balthazar's head.
"What was your mother’s name? What year did Death X drop? When was I born?"
With a flat voice and a steady hand she looked him in the eyes, and waited for a response. Quickly he responded with simplicity and ease. "Cassandra, 2045, and your birthday is April 21 2030..."
Balthazar's eyes peered over the barrel of the gun as he spoke; Aldra dropped her gun and cut him down. Balthazar stood and dusted off his knees, and to his surprise, Aldra threw her arms around him holding him close to her. "I was so alone,” her voice was hushed and muffled by his chest.
~*~
Back in Aldra’s home, Balthazar sat at a small dinning table made of an old tree stump and broken chair legs. A thick silence filled the room, making it hard to breath. Aldra had not seen Balthazar since three weeks before the explosion. Balthazar shifted in his cheep plastic dinning chair. Aldra’s eyes scanned him, taking him in by sections. His skin was dirty, and his clothes as tattered as her own. In his belt were a knife, and a pistol. An automatic machine gun was slung over his shoulders, with extra clips and bullets strapped across his other shoulder. His eyes once soft and full of light, had lost all of their luster and lay as if flat in his skull. He realized her traveling eyes and frowned a little.
“I’m not how you remember? You seem---disappointed.” Aldra snapped out of her daze, as Balthazar’s voice softened.
“It’s not that…it’s just...” there was a long silent pause as Balthazar stretched out his hand across the table to grab hers. Startled Aldra snatched her hand back and stumbled up and out of her chair. Her hand flew the holster around her hips. Balthazar stood slow as to not startle her anymore. Her face was twisted in anger and fear.
“Have you forgotten what you have done? Do you think I would forget!” her face reddened.
“Aldra that was before all this…it was different.” His voice shook and he kept a close eye on Aldra’s gun.
“You left us to go with the enemy. You abandoned the Rebellion!”
“At the time He was a great leader…a good man.” This infuriated Aldra. The man in question was the dictator of their “New America”, Cran. Cran was elected president in 2039, but as his hunger for power grew, he killed off his cabinet and created an army of destruction. Aldra had heard through the grape vine of Cran’s, betrayal to some of his own. Promising them safety, and prosperity for their families. But, as usual Cran went back on his word killing off each of their family member one by one. Such an instance was the same for Balthazar.
“A great man…” Aldra started, her head pounding. “He killed our families; he killed half the world with that-that thing! He is using the sick as his minions of destruction. He has killed billions and continues to kill those who oppose him…and you’re telling me, that that is the making of a great man. You must be crazy.” Her heart pounded in her chest, her stomach rising and falling, Balthazar slowly crept closer to Aldra holding up his hands. “It’s different now, I left his army. I’m here to help the immune. If you would just come with me I will show you.”
“How do I know that I can trust you?” Aldra’s hand dropped from her holster and down to her side. Balthazar’s eyes softened once more. “I guess you’ll just have to believe me.” Aldra took a deep breath, and moved a step closer to him holding out her hand. He shook it; she pulled him close to her as to stare him in the eyes. “You double cross me again…and I won’t hesitate to kill you.” Balthazar smirked, and knocked Aldra’s chin playfully with the side of his knuckles
“You couldn’t kill me if you tried.”