Sawyer’s eyes scanned the visible length of fencing for breaches as they followed it deeper into the marsh. The fog dissipated, hesitant to tread on spoiled lands; plots of forgotten farmlands flooded and steamed as groundwater rose to cool the parched surface. Learning the futility of planting in low-lying lands, humans moved their efforts to the higher grounds at the opposite end of the settlement. The marsh was deeper than Sawyer remembered; its hunger for the poisons brought from another world drawing it closer to where humans spread their fertilizers. The first attempt of civilization still polluted the land; the remnants of forgotten buildings and disabled vehicles drained rust into the soil, staining the lands crimson.
The largest aluminum edifice was one of the first on Flamouria. It rose from the dirt over five stories high, the tallest built then or now. The structure was rarely visited by other humans, left abandoned and discarded after it failed to serve its initial purpose. A leaky roof, fragile walls, and cracked concrete floors were unsuited to holding supplies. The admins could have repurposed it or removed it, but that would be a wasted effort. It was much easier to leave it to pollute the landscape with its garish gray gait and build new. Nature reclaimed the area: dirt drifted up along three sides of the structure over ten feet high; vines climbed the rough, split edges of aluminum sheets bolted together to form the building; and scrub brush sprouted through cracks in the concrete foundation. It looked the epitome of desolation, except for the slivers of yellow light spilling out through the same imperfections the flora claimed.
Sawyer shoved through the warped door, forcing it open with a horrendous squeal of tarnished metal hinges. Their arrival was ignored by the two male figures inside, bowed over a table littered with papers and parts. Sawyer slammed the door with emphasis, sneering at the resulting raised eyebrow and questioning glance of his little brother. “Care to explain to me why Lieutenant Pierce is asking me about missing shuttle parts and fuel cells?”
Will covered his shocked curse and hoot of laughter beneath the guise of rubbing his jaw. His obvious amusement at Maverick’s latest escapade didn’t go unnoticed.
“We salvaged everything from the dump yard,” Maverick’s innocent statement was tainted by a brittle undertone.
“It doesn’t matter where.” Sawyer sighed at Maverick’s immediately defensive stance. The boy straightened his posture and crossed his arms in defiance, his jaw jutting forward in dare for Sawyer to continue. Their similar determination would be beneficial if they held the same values, but conflict was the common outcome of their pride. Sawyer wanted to protect his family, but Maverick wanted to fight the system protecting him. Since Sawyer’s choice to join the Alpha Sect militia the year before, their already strained relationship grew especially difficult. If not for Wil’s involvement in their lives as a buffer, Sawyer knew the tension would be unbearable.
He didn’t fault Maverick his hatred for or rebellion against the Administration – Sawyer held no love for the government he served under – but Sawyer knew the need for a system like the Administration; to ensure he didn’t lose what remained of his family. They’d tried living away from the Administration; the scars running down the left side of his brother’s face attesting to the fact. While their family thrived in the higher, fertile regions south of the wastes, it was a fleeting victory for their Administration-resistant parents. While they were saved from the civil wars raging between larger Sects, the small town was no match for the savages.
Alpha Sect’s militia was one of the largest on the planet, capable of protecting against any force known on Flamouria. It wasn’t ideal, but it would be a lot easier to swallow his pride if Maverick stopped rebelling. “Okay, let’s just assume you didn’t skip lectures today to go scavenging in the dump yard. And, let’s also assume that you did, as you say, take everything from the scraps and didn’t break into the storage building and steal top secret supplies.” Sawyer noted Maverick’s guilty pursed lips and unsteady gaze. He took a moment to shoot a glare at Wil, who snorted and chuckled more noticeably with each word Sawyer spoke. “What could you possibly need six fuel cells for? A standard shuttle only takes one.”
“This isn’t a standard shuttle,” Maverick’s eyes gleamed with pride.
“Tell me you are not still talking about that old wreck,” Sawyer groaned and closed his eyes against the expectant gaze of his brother.
“Just because it did wreck, doesn’t mean it is a wreck,” Maverick argued with crossed arms, his head tilting with arrogant confidence. “It’s a deep space exploration ship and we’re going to fix her.”
“Just because it was a deep space exploration ship, doesn’t mean it’s capable of it now,” Sawyer returned, mimicking Maverick’s defensive stance. “That piece of junk crashed here before the first settlements were built. It doesn’t even take fuel cells.”
“It does now.” Maverick smiled at the man beside him, a wide grin Sawyer saw far too infrequently
