"The Puppeteers" (Nature)

=Chapter 2: Puppeteers= On a nearby mountain, the people responsible for the Reapers looked down on the road with binoculars, watching Elliot and Annabelle’s interaction, fondly.

“Should we send out another one? We can get both of them right now, Sonia.” Roger lowered his binoculars, turning to face Sonia.

“No…” Sonia shook her head, still watching Elliot and Annabelle. “He’s worth twice as much water alive. That rocket launcher too, could be worth something. We could use the Reapers, but they’re far too complex for a simple task like this…” She lowered her binoculars too, reaching behind her. She pulled up a sniper rifle, lowering the bipod on the mounting, aiming through the scope.

“If I aim for below Elliot’s knee cap, he should remain conscious for long enough for us to get to him, theoretically. Then, we can bandage him up, capture him, and start a bidding war. We can get much more water than he’s worth for him. As for the girl, I’ll go for a headshot. Trade her corpse in to be taken to the Butcher in Belarus, then that’ll give us some water too. According to some of the radio frequencies, the human meat-fresh water exchange rate is really unfair right now; that could work in our favour.”

Even Sonia felt slightly disgusted to be using cannibalism as a way to make profit. However, with water being the currency, nothing in the apocalypse was too farfetched or too immoral anymore – there were no more boundaries, a fact which she and Roger had both realised and accepted.

Nonetheless, she continued telling Roger her plan, “There’s still about fifty or so Reaper drone models in the abandoned factory. We can fix some up and use them for our own purposes, or we can trade some of them off. Take the pickup, get going. When you’re close enough, I’ll take the shot.” Roger nodded, obeying her instructions. He took the drone controller with him just in case. He adjusted the frequency of the controller to match the frequency of the drone on the back of the truck.

Sonia continued to watch on through the scope as Elliot and Annabelle continued their conversation…

“What do we do now then?” Elliot put his hood back up, surveying the nearby area. “Hey, big brother, you don’t have to worry about hiding anymore.” Annabelle tried to convince him to pull his hood back down, but Elliot felt as though they were being watched.

“Listen, please just tell me what’s happened back at the camp, Annabelle. Who’s alive, and who isn’t?” Elliot was worried. “Is it Reed? Is it Erica? Is it Tina?” Elliot listed several names, but Annabelle shook her head – this slightly relieved Elliot as he knew they were all fine now, but it also meant someone else was hurt, or worse even.

“Is it Zach then? Or maybe Celeste?” Still, Annabelle shook her head without any vocal responses. “Wait…” An unwelcome thought entered Elliot’s mind, “Is it… Gwen?” Elliot often switched between referring to her as ‘Gwen’ and referring to her as ‘Mum’ – as had Annabelle, despite being her blood daughter; this however was likely due to the loss of formality, modesty and politeness in “this day and age”.

“Annabelle, you there? This is Louis. I need to speak with you, Over.” Before Annabelle could answer Elliot’s query, a voice came through on her radio. She picked it up, and responded with, “Louis. What is it? Over.”

Elliot was surprised by this – he had not expected to ever hear from Louis again, especially after everything with William and Raphael.

“I’ve got some news for you. Listen, this information has been passed down by four or five outposts. It comes all the way from Austria, so some parts might have been misinterpreted. Over.” Annabelle had expected him to go straight in with his info, however she had to prompt him to do so, “Go ahead, Louis. Over.”

“Alright, so. This is just a rumour, but I’d be surprised if it was false given the content of it… It’s about your mum, Annabelle. She’s alive…” Louis dramatically paused, as Elliot walked up to Annabelle, taking the walkie-talkie from her. Snapping back to reality, Annabelle took the walkie-talkie back from her stepbrother. “No, idiot! You can’t trust anyone. Remember, you’ve no idea who’s listening it! I’ve just got you back, I can’t lose you again.” Elliot understood her request, and stepped back from her.

“Louis, what do you mean? How can my mother be alive? I literally watched her overdose! She wouldn’t even let me stick the two fingers down her throat. I watched her pass out, Louis. She’s gone… If this is some kind of a sick joke, then I’m putting a bounty on your head!” She lowered the radio, wriggling her fingers to calm herself down.

“Annabelle, did you actually see her die, though? You saw her pass out, but then you couldn’t take it anymore. You left the room, I know. But did you see the moment?” Louis was trying to be cautious with how he approached the situation, but Annabelle was still volatile as ever, taking deep breaths to stop herself from snapping. Elliot kept well back, partly to make sure she wouldn’t shout and draw another Reaper towards them, but also so that his own presence wouldn’t become known.

“You said this news came from Austria… The hell is my mum doing there if she is even alive?” Annabelle was sceptical about the ‘news’.

“Apparently, the British embassy in Vienna is up and running again. There’s solar panels all around the building. Annabelle, If I had to guess, your mother faked her own death so that you wouldn’t be ashamed of her becoming a trader. I’m sorry Annabelle, she’s out for herself now… Over.” Annabelle couldn’t contain herself any longer. In a fit of rage, she threw the radio to the ground, kicking it away from her.

“Annabelle, hey, come here,” Elliot tried to pull his stepsister in for another hug, but she pushed him away violently. “You did this!” Her voice was croaky, as she snivelled, tears forming in her eyes. “My mum loved you more than she loved me! When you disappeared, she didn’t even think you were going to come back! Ever! Well, newsflash, Elliot. SCREW YOU!” She screamed the end part so loudly, that she felt as though her throat had burned up in a fire.

Elliot’s head darted around, looking for any signs of drones of just hostile activity in general.

“Of course,” Annabelle noticed this, as she lowered her tone again, “You only care about yourself too. I should’ve known… Like mother, like son. No more, Elliot. I am done with you!” Despite how confrontational she was, Elliot knew she was emotional, and that deep down she was relieved he was standing in front of her. As Annabelle continued to rage, she weakened, as she began to cry fully. Now, Elliot finally brought her in for a heart-warming hug. Annabelle cried into his shoulder…

Gwen paced the embassy office up and down. The man at the desk watched her pacing with perfect eye co-ordination. The door of the office was open, the tag on it read ‘HIGH COMMISSIONER’. The badge on the High Commissioner’s desk read ‘ROBERT MONDAY’.

“Gwen, please,” Monday began. “I ran this embassy before the apocalypse. I’m grateful for your help and kick-starting ideas in getting it back up and running again, but I’m afraid I simply cannot send a team all the way to Southern France to rescue your two children… I’m sorry.” Monday sounded truly apologetic, but also sincere.

“Robert, listen to me.” Gwen slammed her fists on the desk, causing the coffee cup and the name badge to jump slightly. “If you don’t rescue my kids, then I won’t help you fortify this place… I faked my death, to my own daughter, to become a trader. I sold off wood, metal, many materials. Anything I could scavenge. My plan was to stock up enough water for Annabelle to have to herself – and even Elliot, if he ever returned.” Gwen explained herself.

“I’m happy to give you that stash of water – nine galloons! Robert, nine galloons! Sorry, I mean, that’s thirty-four litres, for your metric arse. I’m happy to give you all my remaining resources as well to help you build this embassy up. We could build a proper society again, Robert. All I want is my child… And my stepchild…” She raised herself up off of the desk again, solemnly glaring down at Monday.

“You’re very persuasive Gwen, I’ll grant you that… But I only have five men in this building right now. I can’t risk any of their lives… But,” This word caused Gwen to look hopeful. “I know what it’s like to be longing to your children. I can give you the fully-fuelled car… It’s the only one with enough fuel to get you to France but, I’m not sure if you’ll find fuel to make it back. Best I can do Gwen, for all your help here.”

Gwen pressed her hands together in a gesture of gratitude, “Thank you. Truly, thank you, Robert. I promise you, I’ll come back with three things: Materials, Water, and my kids. You can count on me!” She had completely overlooked the fact that everyone believed her to be dead however.

“Good luck… Gwen,” Monday sarcastically remarked as she ran out of his office gleefully. He was not expecting her to ever come back, but being a man of honour and his own word, he felt obliged to granting Gwen the car anyway.

Elliot and Annabelle’s hug was cut shot. The sound of a bullet ricocheting off the road beneath them prompted them to make a break into the woods. “Where the hell did that come from? Reapers?” Annabelle looked around desperately, afraid of the drones. “No, I don’t think so. I don’t hear any engines. Besides, the Reapers fire a spray of bullets – not just one.” Elliot reminded her.

“Dammit!” Atop the mountain, Sonia reloaded her single-shot rifle. “Damn wind!” She blamed the natural breeze for causing her shot to go awry. Looking back through the scope, she surveyed the trees, looking for any gaps in between the leaves that may expose her targets.

“There!” Annabelle pointed out a pickup truck that had appeared from around the corner of the road. It was speeding down it. “Get back!” Elliot pulled his stepsister further in to the cover of the trees.

“Keep sharp, Roger,” Sonia radioed down to him, “Eyes like a hawk, remember. They could be in any of the trees to your right.” She watched him through the rifle scope.

“I know Son’, I know.” Roger put his radio back on the dashboard, glaring through the trees to his right. He couldn’t see any signs of movement however.

Elliot and Annabelle crouched in a small dip in the ground. Their top hairs were barely visible – but not distinguishable enough for them to be noticed.

“Sonia, I’ve got an idea…” Roger sinisterly informed his partner, as he turned behind him, looking at the Reaper drone on the back of the truck…