For aylex13: "Sci-fi/Fantasy. JC and Justin are members of teenage gangs running loose in post apocalyptic earth."

"Shh," JC hissed, and reached out to smack Justin's fingertips. Justin pulled his hand back as though he'd been burned and stuck his fingers in his mouth, though JC knew that he hadn't hit that hard. "You'll wake them."

"They're dead," Justin said around his fingers, and the tilt of his head spoke of petulance. "You can't wake up dead people no matter how hard you shout."

"One of the guys over in Brookline thought that too, and they're still looking for pieces of him." JC craned his head around the corner, his dark-adapted eyes skipping over heaps and piles of twisted metal and looking for the telltale glint of copper wiring exposed when the building fell. There was a guy down in Wall Street Market who paid in wheat when you brought copper to him, and that would feed them for another month.

Justin followed along behind him, poking his bare toes at the twisted and exposed struts where the building had fallen. "You're just trying to scare me," he said. "I'm not stupid, you know. I'm twelve. You weren't all that much older than I am now when Chris left for Wa-Sheng-Ton and you took over."

"Yes," JC said, patiently, "and when I was twelve I was smarter than to shout loud enough to call the attention of the flintwalkers, which you still haven't learned, so if you want to come along on these scavenging trips you have to keep your voice down, all right?"

Justin scowled and bent over when something bright caught his eye, reflecting the light of the torch that JC carried. It was a small silvery disk, and he picked it up, flipped it over to see if there was anything more interesting than the picture of a guy who was long since dead, and then dropped it again. Those things were everywhere, and nobody had ever figured out how to melt out the valuable metal from the crap that they were mostly made of. JC handed over the torch and knelt next to a heap of slag, his fingers reaching into the wall and, with the ease of long practice, ferreting out the wire.

"If the dead guys got him," Justin finally said, "how did anyone know what it was? I mean, if it was just him, and they killed him, nobody would be around to tell the story."

"Oh, shut up, Justin," JC said, and closed his eyes.

. : | back | : .