Chapter Text
Her lighter flicked awake. A small flame danced under the opaque, dull sky. She brought it up to a book lying title-first on the pavement.
“Once upon a time, the idea of a merciless god would’ve been seen as a work of fiction straight out of the Greeks’ imagination. But today, nothing can explain this apocalypse born into fruition except the ruthless deity, Oliver Graves.”
Her eyes narrowed in thought as she read the back summary. It’s been a while since she found something to pass the time with. Finally picking up a book would help bring some sense of normalcy into her life. Honestly, this was beyond lucky; most books have been charred into nothing more than a stack of ash.
Just as Pomni reached to grab the book, she heard shuffling from behind. Quickly, her light was killed, and she slunk to the nearby bridge wall, pressing her back tightly against it. There weren’t many choices for a means of escape, only one end of a bridge to the other, yet she remained still, hoping the fog that enveloped their world would envelop her too.
She sat listening, steps coming closer and closer to the bridge’s abutment. A group, she realized far too late. Encounters with groups never ended well, or so she’d heard. She’d made it a mission of hers to avoid them.
Tales of betrayal stung some of the strangers she had met. In her opinion, betrayal was far sweeter than any alternative she knew existed deep in this twisted planet. The relentless passion of people often exceeded determination and threatened… well, threatened society as much as the next thing that entrapped them. She heard they’d eat your children in front of your eyes, just to gain a few extra days. Pomni could only hope that those types of people had been brought to extinction by now.
Five of them. Silent, armed, vigilant… potentially looking for trouble. All of the things she didn’t need. No doubt if she moved now, they’d notice the slight shift in the murkiness. They’d shoot her on the spot. Trigger finger. A habit most survivors have adopted by now. If there’s movement, there’s either danger or food.
She shuddered a quiet breath, a small attempt to quell her anxiety. Pomni threw a glare at the book—or at least where she last remembered it—a silent rebuke for the position it had put her in. Feeling them grow near, she waited. Waited for the shot, the threat, or, even better yet, their passing.
Slowly, they trudged on in the middle of the road; she could see their eyes glint in the thick atmosphere. So she sheltered her own eyes and wished for them to go away.
One of them sparked a mumbled conversation, her voice high-pitched. Light and airy, something about books…
Suddenly, a barrel of a gun was pressed against her head. Her breathing quickened into hyperventilation. She was going to die, all because of a dumb mistake. Because she couldn’t take a stupid chance. All this hell, for what?
But the shot never came. She slowly guided her head up.
A relaxed smile came into view—the person looked amused.
Her eyes widened. Oh god, she wasn’t going to die. No, she was going to suffer a much worse fate… Something she didn’t dare to dream of. She should probably beg the person before her to put the bullet in her skull, just for a chance of ethicality.
“Jax!”
Pomni's eyes darted beyond the man with a gun, and swiftly, a light flashed on her face. She flinched, holding still against the wall.
A chorus of surprised cries rang out among the group. Pomni felt as if her heart sped up any faster, she might just die of a heart attack.
“What, Dollface? Aren’t you glad I spotted them? Who knows what damage they might unleash onto us with our backs turned?” he snickered.
Despite the sarcasm leaking from his tone, she felt a genuine sense of worry echo throughout the group.
“Still! Just put the gun down, the poor girl probably thinks we’ll kill her!”
That was what finally dropped his smile, and with a quirked eyebrow, he turned to look at her over his shoulder. The gun remained propped harshly against her head, unwavering.
This was an opportunity to take a chance. Slap the gun and book it. She was quick. She knew how to navigate the worst of the worst—looted towns uprooted from the ground up. Being in a gang would surely slow them down. She wouldn’t be worth all the ruckus… she hoped.
And yet, she didn’t take that chance. It was such a precarious position, she didn’t dare mess with destiny. (And maybe, underneath it all, there was a relief that she could finally rest. There was an end, and she had made it.)
The gun dropped from her head, and the guy looked at Pomni with a frown. “Whatever,” he muttered before stalking away.
A red-headed woman came up to her, slightly panicked, but still mustered a small smile.
She crouched down to Pomni’s level. “I’m sorry about him, I swear we aren’t like that… We’re just…” she trailed off.
“Cautious,” somebody else supplied. Their hand rested on a pistol dangling from their belt.
Pomni swallowed. The threat was there. She wasn’t the type to test the waters.
“Yes, and as a precaution, I must ask you the reason you were lingering here,” the red-haired woman questioned. Her face was pleasant, but like the rest of the group, everything appeared much like a warning.
Pomni glanced at the others. The man who pointed the gun at her head caught her gaze and grinned from ear to ear. Disturbing. Her gaze shifted to another girl, who stood loose and unsure. If Pomni were to guess, she was the one who mentioned the book. Then she studied a lanky, older man beside her, clutching a shopping cart filled to the brim with loot. He was shifty, eyes darting like he had been the one held at gunpoint. Finally, she looked to the other armed person. They still kept their hand close to their weapon, as if Pomni was really that big of a deal.
“I have no reason. I was just… scavenging,” she finally muttered after gathering what wits she had left.
She heard a slight scoff from behind the woman, followed by an “Aren’t we all?”
“I didn’t notice you guys until it was too late,” she continued numbly, averting her gaze to the ground. “I would’ve been out of your hair far earlier. I still can be,” she offered, slightly hopeful of getting away scot free.
The woman stared at Pomni for a long moment, weighing the truth behind her words. Then she nodded, satisfied.
“Wait, Ragatha, are- are you sure—”
“Oh, please, she’s never sure. Why should we even take the chance? It’s not like this girl will be missing anything—”
“At least ask her a few more fucking questions—”
Their voices boomed loudly over each other. The woman in front of her audibly sighed.
“Why doesn’t she join us for a nice meal?” the older man blurted out.
They all stared incredulously at him, including Pomni. She felt a chill creep up into her bones. This was becoming too much of an investment.
But the red-haired woman looked as if she was actually considering the idea.
“I’m, um, okay. Just staying right here, I mean. You guys can continue, and I won’t move an inch until you’re out of sight,” Pomni found herself saying. Sure, a meal sounded nice—only in vibrant dreams did she find herself face to face with a plate of steaming curry and a bowl full of endless rice—but this world rarely issued blessings.
“Ya’know, Kinger,” the disturbing guy began as he watched Pomni’s anxious form fumble for an excuse. “That doesn’t sound like a bad idea at all,” he finished. A giant shit-eating grin crept onto his face.
Pomni only looked at him in horror. This was definitely far from a blessing.
“It doesn’t?” the older man asked, feigning confusion.
Pomni gulped. Like a bug, she felt these people could easily crush her under their boots.
A few mutters sounded throughout the rest of them before settling.
“All right.” The red-haired girl offered her a hand. “Why don’t you join us?”
“Me?” she dumbly asked. That got a chuckle out of Smiley. “I could be a murderer, or bait for a trap, or… well, some sort of cannibal.”
“No offense, but we doubt that.” She giggled.
Reluctantly, Pomni took her hand and stood up, slightly dusting herself off.
“Come along, we were about to set up camp.”
The gang headed off, and Pomni wondered if, if she remained behind, would they notice? But they did—a few even beckoning her forward—so it seemed she had no choice. As they trudged on, she continued to fall behind. Each time they stopped and waited for her.
There truly was no escape.
When the group decided on a spot to settle, it was already far too late. Dark had become darker, and a cold front washed over them. Pomni kept quiet, often zoning out to spare herself from the unrelenting bite of the temperature. She didn’t know what kept her there in the first place. Sure, they persuaded her to follow, but never as threateningly as when she first encountered the group. Was it to satiate the unyielding hunger in her gut? Was she curious about their stories? Or was she… lonely? Regardless, she sat under a tree, watching the fire before her lazily flicker in the endless night.
Slight chatter filled the ashen air, something to stir a sense of normalcy into the situation they had found themselves in. A few members twirled marshmallows over the fire. The rest plunked fruit from tin cans, talking with their mouths full. She had been given the latter, which lay in her hands unopened. A familiar emotion disturbed her heart. There was something about the scene that made her think of a time long gone.
“So,” the disturbing man, Jax—she had quickly learned—started. “I’m surprised you’re still here.” He leaned over, his grin never faltering.
Pomni fiddled with the can, leaning away as he got closer. He unnerved her. It’d been years since she saw a person smile, and by the look on his face, it was never once genuine. So maybe it has still been years since she’d seen a person’s smile.
“If I’m going to be honest, I’m surprised too,” Pomni whispered, indulging Jax. As soon as she spoke, the group was quick to end their conversations. The sudden spotlight on her made her stumble for a slight moment. “What else are you supposed to think when the world ends?” She shrugged casually.
The smile never left Jax's face; he just tilted his head in thought.
She looked away, nervous eyes meeting the red-haired woman—Ragatha, she reminded herself. The expression on her face was drastically different. A pitying look dragged down her lips, like she wasn’t suffering the same fate as them all.
That wasn’t the reaction she wanted either, so she turned to the armed person from before, Zooble, in hopes of something better. They didn’t look sad or annoyed—they just looked tired. She could work with that.
“How long have you been traveling for?” Ragatha asked cautiously.
“Years.” She looked down at the can in her hands. “Street gangs got to my town pretty quick. Raided the whole damn thing. I felt safer always moving, ducking in and out of buildings.”
“Sounds a lot like me,” a shrill voice, Gangle, said. “Wasn’t really built for fighting so—”
“Trust me, we know,” Jax scoffed. “That’s why you’re our bait!” he exclaimed, flailing his arms up.
“Jax!” Ragatha reprimanded. “She’s a crucial part of our team!”
“We don’t really have bait,” Zooble said, cutting in like this was an average conversation—it probably was if Pomni were to guess. “But what’s really helpful is how she can always squeeze into a cramped space. Who knows the amount of food we might’ve missed behind shelves?”
She didn’t miss the way Gangle’s chest puffed out from the compliment.
Pomni was familiar; if a person couldn’t ransack all the food in one swoop, it was best to conceal it and return later.
“I get it. I’m not much of a fighter either. Doesn’t seem that bright when it’s always one against many.”
“And that’s why you hide in the dark to get shot by sharp-eyed people like me,” Jax said, staring at Pomni like a vulture waiting for its prey to drop dead.
She shifted away from him. What was his deal?
They all ignored him. Gangle decided to speak instead. “Did you ever have a group?” she anxiously asked, sounding as if she were on the edge of tears.
Pomni shook her head, more proud of the fact that she made it this far by herself and on her own terms. “Just me, myself, and I.”
“Oh, wow,” Ragatha said, slightly amazed. “Doesn’t it get…?”
“Lonely? Yeah, but it’s better to be alone than dead,” she said numbly. At least, that’s what she had to repeat to herself to keep moving.
“I don’t quite agree with that,” someone muttered. Pomni flinched, forgetting the older man—the reason she was in this predicament in the first place—was beside her. “Ope, sorry, didn’t mean to spook you!” he cheerfully said. He had been so silent, too.
Pomni’s eyes darted around the group, searching for any reaction. Jax was the only one who noticed her uncertainty and shrugged, his mouth turned downward for once.
“What I mean is that getting attached is okay.” He turned to the blaze of the fire. “I don’t think I could have ever gotten this far alone,” he said, hunched.
“Yeah, well, that’s cause you’re crazy,” Jax laughed.
A few groans echoed throughout them, causing him to ask an undignified, “What?” to the group.
“Stop ridiculing Kinger,” Ragatha said.
That quickly prompted Jax to begin bickering with her. Pomni watched them tiredly, unsure how they had the energy to fight this often. The others seemed to agree, silently going back to eating.
“Aren’t you hungry?” Kinger probed gently. “I can give you something else,” he offered.
“I’ve…” She looked at the can of fruit cocktail, dented but certainly filled to the brim with syrup. “I’ve never taken handouts,” she admitted.
“It’s not a handout.” Kinger cocked his head and blinked.
“Then what is it?” Sounding much meaner than she initially meant. “Sorry,” she eventually said.
He was quiet, his own silence betraying what he was trying to hide. Pomni lowered her head, eyeing the label, scanning over every detail she could find. She didn’t know what she was meant to feel. She didn’t know what she was meant to do. For years, she scavenged a world devoid of light. She fashioned daydreams from where there was no waking, a feeble attempt to pass the time and ease the pain. Remembering the big things: her job, her family, the food. And the small things too: the stars, the clarity of her lungs, comic books.
Eating it felt like an abandonment of all she’d fought for. Calling upon a hint in this riddle of a world.
“Truth be told,” Kinger eventually said, “I don’t know why I invited you.” Pomni supplied a feeble glare, causing the older man to laugh. “Not like that. You seemed solitary. I thought reaching out was worth a shot. You have that lick of fire in you.” He smiled, watching the flame dance. “People like us are meant to find each other, Pomni. In this dying world, most who inhabit it are blind. They pillage and hurt and enslave others because what else are they supposed to do? Very few aim to carry the fire, but we do. And we will continue to.”
Pomni didn’t dare lift her head. She could already imagine the stares she would receive. So she sat there, letting the words shackle her wrists, stretching tauter and tauter.
“I knew something like this would eventually come for me,” Pomni said, releasing a breath she didn’t know she had been holding.
“You knew it was coming?” Gangle uncertainly asked.
“Or, at least something like this. Hard not to think we deserve it.”
“Did you even try to prepare?” Zooble said.
She looked away. “No. What’s there to do anyway?”
Silence rose. Pomni made sure to punch it down quickly.
“Everybody around me got ready for tomorrow. People living on borrowed time in a borrowed world. No point in believing in any of that shit. Tomorrow never got ready for any of us. It doesn’t even know we’re still here. Why should I do heinous things for the sake of tomorrow?” she spat.
“Jeez,” Jax huffed. “And to think I had you figured out as the anxious loner.” He crossed his arms and raised a brow.
Pomni blushed, turning away.
“I never tried to get used to this lifestyle,” Kinger said, quietly now, like anything loud would cause an uproar. “I never wanted to. But when you look around, you notice that nobody wants to be here… and nobody’s willing to leave. We both know what some people will do to each other to get a head start. And yet, some people drag you in because what they are willing to do for each other is that much greater. It couldn’t make a lick of difference, but they burn bright anyway.”
A faint exasperated, “Tch,” was heard, but Pomni couldn’t place the noise on anybody specific.
Pomni raised her eyes and looked at the older man. He gestured at her with his own tin can and brought it to his mouth, gulping the remaining contents.
She sighed, placed her finger in the hole of the pull tab, and carefully cracked it open. Bringing it up to her nose, she sniffed it. Pomni wrinkled her nose due to the sickly sweet scent before tipping it back and straining the juice from the chunks of fruit. She hated how good it tasted, like she might become dependent on their subsidies.
“Oh, no.” She heard Jax begin. “No, no, no.”
Curiously, Pomni pulled her head away from the can, her eyes following the exchange between Jax and Ragatha. Ragatha turned to look at Jax; her jaw was clenched. Everyone soon followed Pomni’s gaze.
“I know what that look means.” He laughed with no real warmth.
“And what does it mean?” Zooble asked dryly, brows raised slightly.
Jax studied Ragatha, waiting for her to speak up. Pomni slid another piece of fruit into her mouth, slurping it up. When Ragatha inevitably said nothing, Jax decided to speak up for her. “She wants to keep her,” he accused. Jax glared at Pomni before returning to stare daggers at Ragatha. “We can’t.”
Pomni almost choked on the piece of fruit at the thought, her previous chewing devolving into a coughing fit. A flush of red rose to Ragatha’s face, and she swiftly dipped her head.
“Oh, come on, that’s clearly an omission of guilt.” Jax gestured.
“Is that true? You want to recruit her?” Gangle asked nervously.
“Well,” Ragatha began, rubbing the back of her neck. “It would be nice to have another…”
“Oh yeah, I’d bet it’d be really nice, huh?” Jax scoffed sharply. “We just lost Kaufy, and you’re so eager to replace—”
“I never said any of that!” she quickly replied. “Why are you putting your dumb words in my mouth! I didn’t even think about such a thing!”
“Oh, come on! You clearly thought of it! We all thought of it!” He crossed his arms, his fingers curling painfully deep into his bicep. “You’re just bored and want someone new to drag alongside us and cling to.”
Ragatha flinched. “I would never think that about anyone,” she said sternly. Her eyes flickered over to Pomni for a brief moment.
“It would be nice…” Zooble drawled, breaking the small period of silence. “We are a man down.”
Gangle slowly nodded in agreement, and it took all of Pomni’s self-restraint not to get up and leave right then.
“Jesus, what’s with you people. You see one angsty girl on the side of the road, and we just drop all sense of dignity for her?” Jax was tapping his foot, irritated by the opposition that had rapidly begun to form.
“Well, I think she’s very—”
“Can it, old man,” Jax briskly said, cutting him off. “I’ve already heard enough of what you think,” he practically growled.
“Uhm, if I may, could I say my piece?” Pomni quietly said.
Heads snapped to her attention, giving off a slightly uncanny feeling.
“While I appreciate, uh, feeding me and the talks, I’m still an autonomous adult with my own goals.”
Jax smirked smugly. “See,” he drawled triumphantly. “She’s basically saying she has better things to do with her time.”
“I did not say that,” she clarified. “I’m just—” She inhaled a conscious breath. “I don’t do groups. And I can’t stay here.”
Ragatha drew in a breath of her own, providing a small smile. “All right. It was worth a shot.” She shrugged pitifully. “I understand, we probably didn’t make that great of an impression anyway,” she huffed a soft laugh. “I get it.”
Gangle and Zooble watched her sympathetically. Jax rolled his eyes.
“Where do you plan to go?” Ragatha eventually asked after some time.
By then, the fruit can was emptied; Pomni rolled it between her palms. “I want to see the coast one last time,” she said distantly. She needed to see if it was anything reminiscent of her dreams. Maybe it had been untouched, some sort of refuge.
“The last I remember, it was breathtaking,” Kinger said, turning Pomni’s attention away from the can.
“Yeah,” she mindlessly agreed.
Zooble got up to pile more wood on the dwindling fire, raking the coals back from dry leaves. At the agitation, sparks rose higher into the air, dying off deeper into the darkness above. Entranced, Pomni couldn’t guide her eyes away.
“You’re staying for the night, though, right?” Ragatha asked, sounding slightly worried.
“Well, I don’t seem to have much of a choice. It’s the dead of night,” she replied, almost smiling.
“Good. I was beginning to worry you’d run off while we slept.”
“I’ve made it this far, I can’t be that dense.”
Ragatha looked at her wide-eyed, like a confused owl, but said nothing more.
In the morning, Pomni stood awkwardly beside the dead fire, watching as Jax and Ragatha argued over what to give her. While the initial fog had receded, every day that passed only felt more gray; the tip of a pencil becoming duller and duller after each use. When Zooble approached her, three cans in hand, she jumped.
“Here,” they said as they presented the cans to Pomni. “Kinger asked me to give you these last night. I know it’s not much, but it’s a few less days dedicated to scavenging, right?”
“Oh,” she replied, stumped. She dropped the bag that was heaved over her shoulder and glanced over at the older man. He was searching under rocks like a child that had been let loose into the wilderness. “How… thoughtful,” she finished, hesitant.
“He’s not really the same unless he’s beside a fire,” they explained tiredly, as if that meant something to her.
Pomni fitted the tins into her already tight backpack, praying that the seams wouldn't break from the pressure. Somehow, she managed to zip it closed and slung it over her back.
“Thank you,” she said after a second of consideration.
“Don’t thank me,” they shrugged. “I wouldn’t have given you anything.”
Pomni blinked at them, shifting on her feet. Well, she didn’t blame them, but that statement didn’t make the conversation any less awkward. So Pomni just nodded and moved to the older man. At the sound of her shuffling, he paused his search for… whatever, and greeted her.
“Why, good morning, stranger!” he practically sang.
Maybe Jax was onto something with the whole “crazy” comment.
“Uh, good morning,” she meekly replied. “I just wanted to thank you for, well, everything. Like… inviting me and the cans. It was really nice.”
Kinger just blankly stared at her. Discomfort grew by the second.
“Well.” She gestured over towards the general direction of the road. "Best be off, then.” She smiled.
Pomni jumped when he spontaneously screamed, looking around wildly for what might have caused that reaction.
Suddenly, an arm rested on her head, forcing Pomni to jerk away from whoever did that. Jax was standing over her, wearing a laidback smile.
“Crazy, am I right?” he asked.
Pomni swallowed hard, glancing back and forth between the two men. Before she could say anything, Ragatha stepped in, a gun in her hand.
“I wanted to give you this,” she said distractedly, waving the gun closer to Pomni.
She stared at her, perplexed. Did she not think Pomni had a gun of her own? Sure, she mentioned she didn’t fight, but she isn’t stupid.
Ragatha passed it over to Pomni. She inspected it closer, noting it was a flarepistol. She considered it, weighing it in her hand. It would be useless without ammo. At the thought, Gangle approached them, two flares in hand.
“We, uh, thought if you were ever in trouble, you could always have a way to contact us,” Gangle said, struggling to keep a smile off her face.
“Oh, wow.” Pomni pursed her lip as she thought about their allyship. “I didn’t even do anything,” she said dumbly.
“Yeah,” Jax snorted. “You’re right!” He said hotly, crossing his arms.
Pomni grimaced, stepping away from him.
“You’re sweet, Pomni,” Ragatha explained, flattening out her clothing. “The world can’t manage if it loses another person like you.”
“Oh,” Pomni said quietly. No one had ever said that to her before.
“Or you can always change your mind,” Zooble cleared their throat, stepping forward. “Just shoot that flare, and we’d run right over to pick you up.”
Gangle shot her a thumbs up, Jax rolled his eyes, and Kinger… wasn’t looking anywhere in particular. What a peculiar group. What a peculiar world.
“Thank you,” she repeated. “I’ll, uh, I’ll always keep this in the back of my mind.”
Pomni waited for them to pack their things up, feeling bad if she left them behind after all their gifts. By the time they finished, Pomni knew they had lost quite a bit of daylight, yet she wasn’t as angry as she might’ve been if it were just herself. They still found ways to laugh together—or Jax found ways to laugh as he irritated others.
They stood in the middle of the road, apprehensive about their impending divergence. It felt much like leaving a one-night stand.
“Thanks for inviting me,” Pomni started awkwardly. “I didn’t really think life could still be like… this.” She vaguely motioned at the group.
Internally, she was nipping herself for taking this chance. She got the first glimpse of what life could be like with others. Sure, they were sharp and mean to one another, but akin to the bitter taste of vodka, there was a warmth to it. Pomni knew herself well; she knew she’d get addicted.
“Of course,” Ragatha said politely. “It was nice to get to know a fellow traveler.” She paused. “Despite our adverse introduction,” she tacked on, glancing at Jax.
He grinned and shrugged. “How was I supposed to know she wasn’t a murderer?” he cheekily said.
“Good luck, Pomni,” Gangle wished, slinking up to her.
“Yeah.” She smiled. “You too.”
At the end of the day, she didn’t know what luck was supposed to look like. What did it mean to carry luck in a world stripped of everything good? And she didn’t think anybody else traversing this world would know.
She waved and they—apart from Jax—waved back. Then she went on, listening as the others talked before following a few yards away. She didn’t look back. She couldn't look back. Soon, the squeak of their cart and the cadence of their voices would vanish forever. And it would just be herself once more.
Pomni carried the flaregun in her hands. She fiddled, swung, and twirled it around. A nice thing to play with on the lengthy road. Night was approaching, and darkness would be quick to swamp the earth… not that lack of light posed much of a threat anyway. Gray, gray, gray. That was what the world had become.
Although she found herself drooling over the cans waiting in her sack. The syrupy flavor had yet to leave her tongue, coating the edges of her mouth.
She reached the beginnings of a new town. Wooden buildings stood rickety against the sullen sky. As she set foot into the town, she studied her surroundings, trying to eye the first place to duck for the night. Supermarkets always felt the safest. Broken windows made for easy escape.
But as she strolled along the road, she learned there was nobody here.
Eventually, her shoulders relaxed, her eyes lingering on the looted pubs and antique stores.
As she passed the last of the row of tenants, something whistled past her head and hit a nearby car door. Her hand gripped the flare gun tight as she slid behind the beat-up car like she aimed to steal a base. Craning her head, she looked through the car’s broken glass and saw a man in the upper window, drawing back the string of a bow. Her eyes widened. Immediately, she ducked, pressing herself against the car. Pomni heard a thwip and the arrow arched just over the hood of the car, breaking off into the pavement beside her.
Quickly, she dug through her bag, looking for her gun, but after only rifling through the flares, she figured, why the hell not? So she loaded the flare, cocked it, and rested a hand under the barrel of the gun. She just had to wait for another shot. After sitting there for a good moment, she learned it wouldn’t come. She needed to bait it out.
After a bated breath, Pomni poked her arm out just above the trunk, quickly pulling it back in, praying that it was an effective enough juke. The arrow that soared after told her all she needed to know. She swiftly jumped up, finding that the man stepped out of the frame of the window. Regardless, she tilted the flare gun at a hopefully appropriate angle and fired. It rocketed toward the tenant with a trail of smoke following it, although to her chagrin, it hit the wall below the windowsill, ricocheting off of it and hitting the ground with a dull thud.
Before Pomni had the chance to evade once more, she heard another twang of a bow and felt a sharp, hot pain emitting from her shoulder. She cried out and fell behind the car.
“Agh, you goddamn bastard,” she cursed through gritted teeth. “Fuck!”
She blinked back tears, purposefully looking away from the penetrated area in her arm. Dimly, she realized she was loading her final shot. Her aim was already pretty poor, but because of now, it would take divine intervention for the shot to hit her mark.
With what might be her final breath, she jabbed her good arm just above the car roof. Nothing happened. She did it again, holding her arm up for only a second longer. An arrow hit the wall of the building in front of her. She fumbled from her spot and adjusted her aim from where she last remembered it being. When the man stepped back into view, she let it soar. The final flare crossed the ground between them in what could only be a few milliseconds. Then she heard the man scream. She stared in wonder as the room was set ablaze.
Briskly, the room next to it caught fire, clouding the window. And another. And another. Until the whole building was smoking. Heat seared Pomni’s skin, but all she could do was watch.
She looked down, noticing the speckles of red were growing into a puddle. But she just couldn’t move. Forcefully unrooting herself from the spot, she slowly backed up, never turning away from the damage. Upon hitting the wall, she lowered herself down, clutching her shoulder.
Shit… Pomni thought to herself foggily. Shit.
Distantly, she heard a far yell. Actually, a few far yells. But darkness was quickly gathering, as it did perpetually, and she was tired. She let her eyes slip shut.