Adanna of the Wasteland Part 1
Adanna's lungs burned, each ragged breath a gasp against the choking dust. Chronal Rift was a ghost of itself: cracked highways overgrown with stubborn weeds, the founder’s statue located at the center of the city square reduced to rusted sculpture against the blood-red sky. The scavengers' shouts were close now, their guttural growl worse than any wild beast. In her grip, the satchel bounced against her hip, its contents the difference between hope and surrender. She wouldn't surrender. Not today. Adanna forced her legs to pump faster. A few years earlier, She'd bargained for scraps in those same choked streets. Now, the stakes were life and death. She ducked through the gaping maw of a collapsed building, the scavengers' cries echoing off the crumbling concrete.
A stitch seared her side. The air tasted of iron and despair. There had been whispers, a faded map passed between trembling hands in a hidden market. A rumor of an oasis, a green haven beyond the wasteland. Desperate, Adanna had snatched the map, the precious scrap of parchment a lifeline amidst the endless red. Now, her lifeline might be her doom.
A shard of broken glass glinted in the rubble. Back then, it might have been a discarded bottle. Now, it was a weapon. Adanna snatched it, the jagged edge fitting her calloused palm. A gamble, but she'd take desperate odds over certain death. The scavengers spilled into the shattered building. Four of them, lean and ragged, eyes wild with desperation. Their leader, a scarred woman with teeth filed into points, barked a command. They fanned out, blocking the exits.
Adanna cursed under her breath. They were clever, learning herding tactics from the packs of mutated dogs that prowled the ruins. But this was her city. She knew routes they couldn't dream of. A memory surfaced – a shortcut through a collapsed tunnel, once bustling with market traffic, now choked with weeds and shadows. She lunged toward the darkness, ignoring the chorus of startled shouts behind her. The tunnel stank of rot and something unidentifiable, making her stomach churn. But the fading light behind her spurred her onward. She scrambled on hands and knees, the satchel slung across her body snagging on debris. If they caught her in the tunnel's confines, this was truly the end.
A glimmer ahead. Could it be the other side? A wave of bitter relief washed over her, until a sudden, sickening lurch brought despair. The tunnel floor had given way. Adanna's scream was swallowed by the sudden void beneath her. The world tilted, the remaining light disappearing as she tumbled. Rough earth slammed into her, knocking the breath from her lungs. Pain flared through her ankle, a sickening crack echoing in the hollow space. For a disorienting eternity, she didn't know up from down. Dust choked her, darkness pressed against her eyes, and her world narrowed to a heartbeat drumming in her chest. Had she fallen into a beast's den? Was this an even crueler death than the scavengers would have delivered?
Then, a shimmering light pierced the gloom. Groaning, Adanna forced her eyes open. She squinted against the brightness, blinking away tears of pain. Above her loomed not a fanged maw, but a jagged hole – the collapsed tunnel ceiling. Weakly, she pulled herself upright. Her arm screamed in protest, the bone jutting at an unnatural angle. Her sanctuary had become her prison. But at least, for now, she was alive. The scavengers couldn't reach her from here. She could see faint movement in the corner of her eye. Her breath hitched. Not a monster, but something almost as bad – a mutated rat, its eyes gleaming. No longer just a scavenger, it saw her as prey.
Adanna scanned the rough walls of her earthy prison. The hole above seemed impossibly distant, a tiny circle of mocking red sky. Panic fluttered in her chest, cold and persistent as the rat watching her with beady eyes. No, no surrendering. A memory flashed: balancing precariously on a rusty ladder to steal mangoes from the compound next door. Anger flared alongside fear – anger at this world, at the hunger that drove her to risk her neck for a scrap of food. It was the same fire she'd need now.
She wedged the satchel against the wall, fingers fumbling with the clasp. It wouldn't hold her weight, but…there. The faded map. It was stiff, more like rough cloth than paper. Perhaps, if she twisted it into a rope...Her injured ankle protested as she worked, pain sharp enough to make her nauseous. Each twist caused the brittle map to crackle ominously. Would it break before she finished? And even then, would it reach?
Finally, she had a crude rope of sorts. It looked pathetic, more likely to snap than save her, but it was the only chance. Tying one end to a jutting rock, Adanna held her breath and tested its weight. It seemed to hold. The climb was agony. Each pull sent hot spikes of pain through her body, each foothold a gamble. The rat skittered away, sensing her renewed determination. Halfway up, a piece of the map-rope tore, dropping her several feet. She clung desperately, fingernails tearing against coarse earth. But she didn't give up. Meter by meter, fueled by grit and fury, she ascended. When her bleeding fingers finally grasped the edge of the hole, a choked sob escaped her. She was alive. Alive, and maybe even with a sliver of hope still intact.
Adanna hauled herself over the edge, collapsing onto the dusty ground with a groan. Exhaustion washed over her. Her injured ankle throbbed, a cruel reminder that escape might be short-lived. She had to move before the scavengers found this new vantage point. But as she struggled to her feet, a chilling sound drifted from above. Laughter. Not the wild shouts of pursuit, but something lower, more calculating. The scarred woman's voice filtered down the hole.
"Clever girl," the voice mocked.
"Should have stayed a rat in your hole. Now, be a good girl and toss that satchel back up. We're a bit peckish, wouldn't you say?"
Adanna's stomach twisted. Her victory had become a spotlight. But she couldn't surrender what was inside the satchel: the half of the map that remained, ragged but unbroken. Clutching it closer, she scanned the ruins, her mind racing. This was a hunter's game, and she was now the hunted. Suddenly, a flash of inspiration: a toppled statue nearby, its concrete base half-buried in the earth. With a surge of adrenaline, Adanna limped towards it, scrambling atop the rubble. She crouched low, her figure blending against the weathered stone.
The scavengers emerged, weapons glinting in the harsh red sunlight. They focused on the hole, expecting an easy target. Adanna held her breath, waiting. Now, the crumbling city wasn't just her obstacle, it was her camouflage. The leader of the scavengers, the scarred woman, gestured impatiently toward the hole.
"Enough games, girl. We know you're down there."
Adanna tensed. From her makeshift hiding spot on the statue, she had a clear, if horrifying, view. Each scavenger was armed - not just with scraps of metal, but old, battered weapons. Guns? That changed everything. Had they found a forgotten military cache? A movement near the tunnel entrance caught her eye. The scavengers were spreading out, seeking to pin her down. No way she could outrun them, especially with her injury. But the movement also revealed something else: a crack in the wall, a narrow gap half-hidden by twisted vines. It might be tight, but it was a potential escape route.
Time seemed to slow as a scavenger approached the statue, oblivious to her crouched form. Each thud of their boots was a hammer blow in Adanna's chest. She forced herself to remain still. Discovery now meant certain death. The scavenger moved on. Adanna bit back a gasp of relief, but then froze again – a flicker of color from the satchel clutched in her hand. A corner of the precious map poked out, catching the sunlight. In a desperate gamble, she carefully shoved the map fully inside the satchel. But was it too late? The leader of the scavengers narrowed her eyes, then suddenly pointed at the statue. Her voice carried across the ruins.
"There you are!"
Adanna didn't wait for the scavenger's shout to end. She exploded from her hiding place, scrambling down the statue and sprinting towards the crack in the wall. Time fractured into a kaleidoscope of pounding feet, shouts of alarm, and the frantic beat of her own pulse. The satchel bounced against her side with each stride, precious and precarious. Her injured ankle was weighing her down, but she willed her legs to move faster. Rough vines tore at her skin as she neared the opening, promising escape or another dead end.
Suddenly, a searing pain shot through her ankle. She stumbled, a choked cry escaping her lips. Had they shot her? A quick glance revealed thorns, thick as rusted nails, embedded in her flesh. The ground rushed up to meet her. The searing in her ankle was nothing compared to the rising dread. In those precious seconds, the scavengers had closed the distance. Hands reached out, calloused fingers snatching for the map, for her.
Despair mingled with defiance. She wasn't beaten yet. With a surge of strength fueled by desperation, Adanna kicked back, catching the closest scavenger in the groin. A satisfying howl echoed amidst the chaos. She scrambled to her feet, tasting blood in her mouth and ignoring the waves of pain. The opening was right there. Summoning a final burst of speed, Adanna flung herself into the gap. Rough stone scraped against her as she squeezed through. It was a desperate, brutal passage, barely wide enough for her shoulders. She clawed her way forward, thorns tearing at her clothes and skin, but behind her, the shouts of the scavengers began to fade.
The darkness closed in around Adanna, disorienting and suffocating. Rough stone gave way to packed earth, the tunnel widening momentarily. Then, her outstretched hand hit…nothing. A shaft opened beneath her. She scrambled back with a cry, her pulse thundering like a frantic drum. Had she crawled right off a hidden precipice? Frantically, she felt around. The satchel, blessedly, was still there, the map miraculously unharmed. A shimmer of light filtered from above – the narrow crack through which she'd escaped.
With trembling hands, she opened the satchel and fumbled for her precious match and created a makeshift touch from a piece of bone (probably from a human) and cloth wrapped around it. A flicker of flame, and the tunnel was revealed: it extended further, sloping downwards, ancient roots poking through the walls like petrified serpents. Relief washed over Adanna, quickly followed by a grim pragmatism. It wasn't freedom, but it was respite. The scavengers couldn't follow her down here. She eased herself over the edge of the drop, landing with a jolt that sent pain shooting through her injured ankle. The floor was damp, slick underfoot. Adanna limped further in, following the sloping passage, the match flames her only guide. The air grew cooler, a strange prickling sensation crawling across her skin. There was a smell, too...sweet, yet rotting, that made the hair rise on the back of her neck.
Then, she saw them. Glowing. Two pinpricks of luminescence in the darkness ahead, bobbing in rhythm with a soft, wet sound. She froze. It wasn't safe...But did she have a choice?
Adanna held her breath, the touch flame trembling in her hand. The luminous eyes drew closer, resolving into twin orbs tinged with a sickly green. The creature moved with a liquid grace, its body a sinuous shadow. Not a rat, not a dog… something far stranger, molded by the harsh evolution of this ruined world. A low growl echoed in the tunnel. The match flickered, threatening to plunge her into total darkness, but in that fleeting light she glimpsed the creature's form. Sleek, furless, scaled skin stretched over too-prominent bones. Its fanged maw opened wide, and Adanna braced herself for attack.
Then, the creature paused. Its head tilted, those strange eyes seeming to study her. The growl morphed into a wheeze, almost like a question. It took a tentative step closer, then stopped, claws scraping against the stone with a chilling rasp. Adanna swallowed, fear warring with desperate curiosity. This creature was a product of this wasteland, yet there was uncertainty in its movements, a mirroring of her own hesitation. Could it be hungry, yes, but also wary?
With excruciating care, Adanna reached into the satchel. The scavengers might return, and her injuries left her painfully vulnerable. But if this creature was simply starved, perhaps the risk was worth it. Her hand closed around a scrap of dried meat, purchased from a dubious trader a week before. A treasure she'd hoarded against the leanest of days. On trembling legs, she took a step forward, extending the scrap of meat. The creature tensed, muscles rippling, but the heady scent of food seemed to overpower its fear. Another growl, louder this time, as it edged closer. The green eyes never left hers.
Read the entire story here.
To be continued!
