The Rat Collector: A Dystopian Thriller (Age of End Book 1)

AGE OF END:
THE RAT COLLECTOR

AGE OF END: THE RAT COLLECTOR

by Chris Yee

Copyright © 2016 by Chris Yee. All rights reserved.

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, businesses, events or locales is purely coincidental. Reproduction in whole or part of this publication without express written consent is strictly prohibited.

ISBN 978-0-9973536-0-0

Cover designed by Rebecca Frank

http://RebeccaFrank.design

Published by To The Moon Publishing

http://www.tothemoonpublish.com

ONE

VINCE WAITED AS the sharp cold of ice stabbed at the bare flesh of his feet. He stood atop an icy cliff, toes curled over the edge. His eyes scanned the horizon, waiting for Saul. Below him, a far drop to certain death.

He rocked from side to side, his arms twisting tightly across his chest. A snowflake gently landed on his nose and quickly melted. He looked up. Dark clouds. More snow was on its way. He grabbed his hood and draped it over his head. His eyes carefully panned across the lifeless snow covered plains, looking for movement. There was nothing.

His knees trembled, not from the cold, but from the anticipation. He knew Saul would arrive from the west, he just did not know when. His legs ached, and his body was tired, but he remained patient. This was too important to get overzealous. Lives depended on him.

The stinging pain residing in his feet had transformed into complete numbness. He tried to wiggle his toes. Wiggle. Move. Do anything. But it was pointless. He could see his own feet pressed against the ground, but it felt like they didn’t exist at all. Like he was hovering over the frigid ice. His feet had once endured the fiery sands of deserts and traversed the jagged trails of mountains. Over the centuries they had grown resilient to many things, but the cold was new. It was far worse than he expected.

The sun, still blurred behind a sheet of clouds, lowered. Vince watched the dimly lit orb approach the flat ground. The sunset was comforting, perhaps too comforting. Nightfall would only bring colder winds. His pupils shrunk and his brows lowered as he mindlessly gazed at the ball of light. There was something soothing about the slow movement of the sun at the end of a long day. Something calming. Therapeutic. Hypnotic. With a cold breeze slapping his face, he snapped out of his daze and returned his attention to the snowy field below.

The spot Vince chose was not ideal, but it would serve his purpose well enough. He hoped for a place with more cover, more places to hide, but the area was void of any trees or vegetation, and the snow plains were extremely flat. Given the circumstances, the mountains were his best option. He settled at the edge of a cliff, a good distance from the main trail. The ice he stood on felt thin, but it held his weight, for now.

He glanced back at the fire he built. It had burnt out hours before. Time had passed quickly. Saul should have arrived by now. He considered building a new fire but decided it was more important to stay put. Focus his attention on the horizon. Come nightfall, a fire would only ruin his night vision, and worse, reveal his position. As tempting as a warm, freshly crafted fire was, it was a bad idea. He closed his eyes and imagined the warmth that radiated against his back when the fire was once fresh, but it only made him colder.

The thought of confronting Saul worried him. Too much time had passed since they last spoke. That terrible day from his childhood, still crystal clear in his mind. He was not quite sure what to expect from Saul now, but he was prepared for the worst. Saul was once a good friend, but he would not hesitate to kill him, if necessary.

The last rays of light stretched across the vast plains before disappearing beyond the horizon. The sun’s afterglow remained for a short moment, and then slowly died away. The night was dark, but his eyes adjusted quickly. The cold grew colder. Flaky cracks spread across his lips. His nose was stuffed with mucus. Thick puffy clouds left his mouth with each breath. His dry throat scratched like cold sand. He reached for his canteen, but then remembered it was empty.

He bent over and formed a small pile of snow with his hand. He cupped the pile and packed it into a loose ball. It would make him colder, but his canteen had run empty days ago. He needed water. He stuck some snow on his tongue and pushed it against the roof of his mouth. The snow melted almost instantly. He let it settle in his mouth, on his tongue, against his cheeks, and then finally swallowed. He took the remaining snow, which had already melted, and rubbed his lips. He was still thirsty, but it would do for now. Consuming more snow would drop his temperature too much. He needed to stay warm. The cold night had just begun.

On him, he had a small bag of dried meat. His stomach growled, begging to be fed, but he was saving what little food he had for a later time. He would need the boost in energy when Saul arrived.

The rest of the night was uneventful. It snowed. Vince waited. Hours felt like days in what was perhaps the longest night of his life.
He will come
, Vince repeated to himself.
Saul will come
.

*****

Hope returned when Vince saw the blue morning sky. The harsh night was through. The dark clouds had cleared overnight, ending the heavy snowfall. The sun shined upon his skin. It was refreshing after a night of frigid air. Light stretched across the landscape, unveiling a beauty that was once hidden with clouds. There was still no movement in the fields below. Vince began to doubt if Saul would come at all. Was he wrong? Had Saul taken a different route?

A flock of birds flew towards him in the distance. The first sign of movement. His eyes followed them as they approached. When they finally passed over his head, his eyes darted back to the horizon, fully alert. The white field remained clear and uneventful. Still he watched. But there was nothing. His anticipation began to fade. Maybe Saul was not coming after all…

Something emerged in the distance. Vince strained his vision. He could see the top of a wool hat, bobbing up and down as the man wearing it walked towards him. A face slowly revealed itself. White, bushy eyebrows. Wrinkled cheeks. Long, crooked nose. Vince hadn’t seen Saul in a long time, but he immediately recognized him. He looked weak. Old and fragile. Not at all what he expected, but it was most definitely him.

His heart rose to a pounding thump. No more waiting. He needed to get ready. From his bag, he removed the dried meat and stuffed it in his mouth. He ran over to the remains of the campfire and scattered the coals, covering them with snow. As he trotted back, the ice shifted. He stopped. Very carefully, he shifted his weight back and forth. It seemed stable enough. He tiptoed back to peer off the ledge. Saul was already at the base of the mountain, making his way up the trail. Vince pulled a large white sheet from his bag and spread it out on the ground. He dropped to his stomach, facing the trail, and folded half the sheet over himself. He peeked his eye out of a small hole, to keep sight of the trail.

Every muscle was tense, but he remained calm and still. He was a good distance from the trail, and he was well concealed. The overnight snowfall had covered his footprints. He was completely hidden to anyone passing by.

As he waited, he fought the urge to sleep; something far more challenging now that he was lying on the ground. His eyelids drooped, bounced up, then drooped again. He shook his head and focused. These next few moments were too important to sleep through. If Saul slipped by, people would die. It was as simple as that. But his body fought against him. After several days of no sleep, he finally gave in…

…He flinched awake. How much time had passed? It could have been hours, or seconds, or anywhere in between. Did he miss Saul? There were no footprints on the trail. A hopeful sign. He would wait a bit longer, now rested and alert.

After a short minute, footsteps grew from soft muffles to loud crunches. Adrenaline shot through his veins. He saw no one on the trail, but he could hear Saul approaching. He waited…eagerly.

Saul entered his sights. His body was frail as he struggled up the path. Vince was struck with awe. There he was. His old childhood friend. Seeing him up close was overwhelming. Yet, it was also underwhelming. Vince expected a towering menace. Someone who lived up to the terrifying stories. He expected a beast, but what he saw was a bug.

Saul stopped, taking a moment to rest. Vince only stared, not moving a single muscle. Saul started walking again, and he realized he was about to miss his opportunity. He sprung up from the ground, throwing the white sheet in a wild flutter. His feet thumped against the snow as he sprinted towards Saul, full speed.

TWO

SAUL WANDERED THE endless fields of snow. There was no life. No animals. No trees. Nothing but flat plains. The bland sameness of everything made it difficult to keep his bearings. Only the sun guided him, and today it chose to hide behind thick clouds. The cold was worse than he had expected, but it was tolerable. The delicate touch of a snowflake tickled his balding head. He searched through his bag and found a wool hat, wrapping it snugly around his head.

He had journeyed through snow for several days now, knowing that Vince followed closely behind. Vince’s efforts to stay hidden were impressive but unsuccessful. Yet just a few days prior, he seemed to have vanished completely. It was strange. Vince was persistent. His sudden disappearance was alarming.

The cold was bearable, but not at all pleasant. He was glad he brought a pair of boots. He wondered if Vince had done the same. Walking barefoot in the snow for several days could cause serious damage to the feet.

It was a long eight days in the snow, but he was not fatigued. His muscles, while slender, were durable. His mind even more so. He had the energy to walk eight more days if necessary. He kept a steady pace, watching each step crunch in the ankle-high snow. His shadow stretched out front and faded into the oncoming darkness as the sun lowered over his shoulder.

Time was forever morphing. Some days passed in a blink, and others dragged for ages. Fortunately, today was the former. The day went by so fast he almost forgot to eat. He retrieved a bag of dried meat and stuffed a handful down his throat. He had plenty of food and water; enough to last another week. After gulping a generous portion of water, he grabbed another handful and devoured it.

The night was uneventful. It snowed. Saul walked.

*****

Dawn approached, and Saul’s pace remained steady. The snow stopped overnight, and the sun was now peeking up from the horizon. Piercing rays of light shot off the snow and into Saul’s eyes. It was far too bright. He lowered his head and watched his feet as he walked.

With his head down, he found himself surrounded by large birds. There was a full flock gathered in a small circle around him. He stopped just short of crushing a bird’s head under his colossal boot. The feathered critter pecked and pulled at the tough leather. Saul smiled at the harmless creature. He stepped back, placed his thumb and index between his lips, and blew. The whistle sent the birds fluttering.

He watched them fly away and then carried on. The sun was still unbearably bright, but it faded quickly. He raised his head to see the large mountain range up ahead, rising up to block the sun as he walked forward. The sight was both aggravating and refreshing. Scaling the mountain would be tiring, but it was nice to see something new. Something other than flat fields of snow.

A trail sat at the base of the mountain, directly in front of him, snaking up and over the peak. It was his only way through. He increased his pace with unexpected enthusiasm. When he reached the mouth of the trail, he gazed up at the long path ahead. He took a deep breath, sipped some water, and stepped onto the trail, walking at a deliberate, steady pace.

After two hours, he was still at it. The incline was challenging, but he was managing well. He stopped for a short rest and glanced back to admire his progress. He was a good way up and was nearing the peak. Stepping forward continue his climb, there was the sudden fluttering sound, followed by rapid thumping. He turned, and froze, staring into the face of the man vaulting towards him. It was Vince.

THREE

VINCE SPRUNG UP from the ground, throwing the white sheet in a wild flutter. His feet thumped against the snow as he sprinted towards Saul, full speed. He saw shock in Saul’s face. Saul turned and watched as Vince approached in a blaze of fury.

The breeze built to a strong gust. Vince pumped his legs faster and faster. His pounding heart matched the thump of his feet on the snow-covered ice. Thump. Thump. His eyes locked on Saul. Thump. Thump. Thump. Saul stood, unable to move. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump…

A loud crack echoed through the air as the ice supporting him shifted again. He leaped forward as the ice snapped off. He soared through the air, arms extended, fingers stretched. He could almost touch Saul, but not quite.