Chapter Text
The end of the world happened in the blink of an eye.
Oh, humanity had fought back. But by the time they realised what was happening, it was too late. The organisation known as Division and their fucked up experiments had taken over. What had started as one Cyber became two, became four, became dozens, became thousands. Now, most of humanity had been converted, the survivors being hunted down one by one.
It didn’t help that the Cybers looked human, except for a couple of key details that were near impossible to see until you were way too close – eyes of silver, and a mark on the back of their neck where they had been hooked to a conversion chamber.
Devoid of emotion, they only had one mission – convert every human into a Cyber. With their speed, agility, and night vision, they were nearly impossible to kill; the only ways that had been found were by stabbing (or shooting, though ammo had become few and far between) the spot where they were hooked to the conversion chamber, or decapitation – neither of them an easy feat.
There was a reason there were so few humans left.
Some of them that remained were just as dangerous as the Cybers – bandits who raided other camps for food, information, whatever they might need at the time.
In summary, the world was fucked.
Yasmin Khan – Yaz, to her few friends who remained – knew that better than anybody.
Unofficial leader of one of the last groups of resistance against the Cybers, it was hard not to feel like the weight of the world rested on her shoulders. At the very least, she had the weight of seven other people looking up to her for guidance, for protection – as much as there was to be had, anyway.
Because nowadays, nowhere – and no one – was ever truly safe.
Her ragtag group had all lost people, some more than others. None of them were strangers to grief; today, though, Yaz’s was palpable.
One year.
Sighing, Yaz skimmed a rock across the lake she was sitting by. It was dangerous to be alone, and she knew that. But today… today, she needed it.
Slowly, she took out a knife from her ankle holster, running her thumb over the smooth wooden surface of the handle. It was painted a rich blue, a pretty splash of colour amidst the gray that seemed to be slowly taking over the earth as more and more of it burned to the ground.
The steel blade was on the smaller side, not quite five inches long, but wickedly sharp. Yaz pricked her finger on the end of it, staring numbly at the blood that welled up.
Sonya had been begging to be given a rifle.
“You can carry one when you’re older,” Yaz said, not for the first time in the last couple weeks.
“You’re acting like I’m fifteen. I’m twenty-one years old, Yaz,” her sister protested, hands on her hips.
“You’ve also never shot a gun before,” Yaz countered. She knew that Sonya wanted to prove herself, to feel like she was helping the resistance. But it was dangerous. She couldn’t risk losing the only family she had left.
“So teach me.”
“Later. We can’t afford to waste the ammo.”
Sonya clenched her jaw. “You let Ryan carry a gun, and he has dyspraxia.”
“Sonya,” Yaz said sharply. She knew Ryan’s disability was a sensitive subject for him, and as his best friend, she was quite defensive over him. “That’s enough.”
“I can do this. You’ve seen me with my knife. How much harder can a gun be?”
“A lot harder,” Yaz said dryly.
“Yeah, well, maybe if you’d let me fight with you, I’d know that,” Sonya grumbled. “I wouldn’t even have to be close to the action. You could just let me hang back and snipe them from a distance.”
“A moving target is a lot more difficult to hit than a shop mannequin, Sonya.”
“God, you’re fucking insufferable,” Sonya snapped, spinning on her heel and heading back towards the direction of camp.
“Sonya –”
“Just leave me alone.”
Yaz sighed, rubbing her face in her hands. Her sister was as headstrong as she was – and while most times Yaz admired her for it, now was one of those times it drove her crazy.
Taking in a deep breath, Yaz carried on with her original goal for the day – checking the snares they’d set and looking for some edible berries. They’d managed to get a couple of rabbits, which Yaz knew the meat-eaters in the group would enjoy. Luckily, she’d also managed to find some blackberries that would be a nice dessert after the vegetable stew she knew Bill and Dan were planning on making.
When she made it back to camp, the sun was lowering in the sky. She dropped the food off with Dan, heading over to the tent she shared with Sonya.
“Sonya, I’m –” She stopped as she opened the tent, finding it empty. A sense of unease began to take root in her chest as she walked over to where Amy and Ryan were sharpening their stash of bladed weapons.
“Hey, have you guys seen Sonya?” she asked.
Amy furrowed her brows. “She said she was going to help you with the gathering,” the woman replied slowly.
Yaz’s blood ran cold. She looked at Ryan, who immediately recognised that something was terribly, terribly wrong.
“Yaz, what’s going on?” Amy asked as she looked between them, confused.
Yaz immediately took off towards the woods, Ryan following behind her, both of them ignoring Amy’s shouts.
“You go that way, I’ll go this way,” Yaz said as they reached the edge of the woods.
“Yaz, it’s not safe to split up,” Ryan said.
“We’ll cover more ground that way,” Yaz insisted. “Please, Ryan.”
Ryan pressed his lips together, nodding. “Okay.”
Yaz started making her way through the woods, keeping her eyes peeled for any signs of Sonya. She tried to focus her hearing, pushing past the sound of birdsong and wind blowing through the branches.
“Sonya!” Yaz shouted. Not exactly the smartest thing to do, when she didn’t know if any Cybers were nearby.
But her sister could be in danger.
Her heart pounding, Yaz continued hacking her way through the woods, her desperation growing by the minute. Nightfall was coming; she had to find Sonya before –
The sound of Sonya’s scream echoed through the woods.
Yaz quickly tore off in the direction of her voice, fear gripping her like a vise. “Sonya!”
She heard the sound of branches breaking behind her, only sparing a cursory glance to see that it wasn’t a Cyber chasing her but Ryan, struggling to keep his balance as he ran.
“Go!” He shouted at her. “I’ll catch up!”
Yaz ran even faster towards Sonya, skidding to a stop as she came to the brink of a very steep bank at the edge of the woods. Beneath her, she could see the glint of a knife whose blue handle Yaz immediately recognised.
Sonya’s knife.
She was weaponless.
The Cyber was an older model, one that was missing an arm. Even still, Sonya was no match for its strength; it had her firmly in its grip as it ran through the nearby meadow, her thrashing seemingly nothing but an annoyance to the creature.
“Sonya!” Yaz cried out, and the Cyber whirled in Yaz’s direction, crouching into a defensive position.
Time seemed to stand still as Yaz’s brain spun, trying to figure a way out of this.
The Cyber was protecting its only weak spot, keeping Sonya in front of it and moving backwards. There was no way Yaz could get to it in time.
If the Cyber disappeared with Sonya, she was as good as gone. Yaz had no idea where the nearest conversion camp was; by the time she might find her, it would be too late. She would be converted, forced to live out the rest of her ‘life’ a soulless monster.
Just like their parents had been before they’d been killed in the first wave, back when there was still a military.
She and Sonya had made a pact that day; had promised they’d never let it happen to the other. Decided that they would rather die than be turned into a Cyber.
“Yaz!” Sonya’s panic sent a deadly chill down Yaz’s spine. “Do it! Don’t let me be one of them! You have to kill me, do it, now! You promised!”
Yaz grabbed her gun, tears streaming down her face as she pointed it at her sister. She stared down the barrel of it, bile rising in the back of her throat. The Cyber started to move backwards even faster, and Yaz knew she was running out of time.
“Do it, Yaz! Please!” Sonya begged, barely even fighting against the Cyber anymore.
After all, a moving target was a lot more difficult to hit.
Yaz’s finger inched closer towards the trigger, her hand shaking as she looked at her sister.
Her sister, who she was supposed to protect. Who she was supposed to keep safe.
“Yaz, now!”
Yaz’s grip on the gun weakened.
A gunshot rang out.
The world seemed to stop as Sonya crumpled in the Cyber’s arms, dark red blood staining the front of her shirt. Out of the corner of her eye, Yaz could see Ryan, gun still pointed in Sonya’s direction, a mixture of grief and horror on his face.
A snarl spread across the Cyber’s face as it let Sonya fall to the ground, running towards them.
As quickly as it stopped, the world came back into focus as a feral rage took over Yaz’s body. Dropping the gun, she grabbed a knife from her hip and started down the embankment, half-falling down it and grabbing Sonya’s knife in her other hand as she passed by the weapon. The Cyber was fast approaching as Yaz regained her balance, and with a strangled cry she ran straight towards it.
It reached out its hand to grab her and she quickly sidestepped, sinking a knife to the hilt into one eerie silver eye and jerking downward, causing the Cyber to lose its balance. Rotating around, she took the second knife and found home in the conversion mark, a growl tearing from her throat as she twisted it even deeper, the Cyber collapsing onto the ground.
Not even bothering to grab the knives back out, Yaz ran over to Sonya, tears streaming down her face as she pressed her hand against her stomach, trying to stop the bleeding from the gunshot wound.
“You’re gonna be okay, Sonya,” Yaz choked out. “Do you hear me? You’re gonna be okay.”
“Yaz,” Sonya said weakly. “I’m sorry.”
Yaz shook her head. “Don’t. Just save your energy, okay? We’ll carry you back to camp, and Rory will patch you up.”
“Yaz, listen to me,” Sonya said, tears falling freely. “You have to forgive yourself, okay? Don’t let this ruin you.”
“Stop talking like you’re going to die.”
“I think we both know I am.”
Yaz heard the sound of footsteps approaching, jerking her head up to see Ryan, who was looking at Sonya with tears in his eyes. He dropped to his knees next to her, grabbing her bloodied hand.
“She’s fine,” Yaz said, like if she said it enough, it would be true. “She’s fine.”
“I’m sorry, Sonya,” Ryan whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
Sonya gave the smallest shake of her head. “I’m glad… you did,” she said, her words sounding more like a wheeze now. She looked back towards Yaz. “I love… you.”
“I love you, too,” Yaz said quietly, her chin quivering. Sonya smiled.
And then she was gone.
Yaz let out a choked sob, pulling Sonya close to her chest, burying her face in her hair as she rocked back and forth.
“Yaz, I’m sorry, but it’s getting too dark,” Ryan said after a few minutes, looking around warily. “We don’t know if it called for backup. We need to leave.”
“No,” Yaz said brokenly, her grip on Sonya’s body tightening. “I can’t leave her.”
“If you don’t, there’s a good chance we’ll die, too.” Yaz looked up at Ryan’s words, seeing the anguish on his face. “Please, Yaz. I can’t lose you, too.”
She gently laid Sonya back down, pressing one final kiss to her forehead before numbly letting Ryan help her up. They headed back to camp, stopping to grab their weapons on the way.
When they reached the campsite, the group went silent as they saw the blood all over their clothes.
“Yaz…” Bill was the first one brave enough to speak, her eyes filled with sadness.
Yaz looked at all of them, her heart shattering into a million pieces as she said the words that made it real. “She’s gone.”
“Yaz.” A familiar voice jerked Yaz back to the present, and she instinctively lifted her knife up to a defensive position.
“Easy, it’s just me,” Ryan said with his hands in the air, standing next to her. She hadn’t even heard him approach; she’d been lucky he wasn’t a Cyber.
In this moment, part of her felt like she wouldn’t have cared if he was.
Yaz stayed silent, moving back to her original position and looking back out over the smooth surface of the lake. With a sigh, Ryan sat down next to her, taking a rock and trying to skim it. Instead, it plonked into the water, sending out a large ripple.
“She tried to teach me,” he said quietly, and Yaz immediately knew who he was talking about. Sonya. “I never got the hang of it, though.”
Yaz hummed.
More silence.
“How are you holding up?” Ryan asked, glancing sideways at her.
“How do you think I’m holding up, Ryan?” Yaz asked, more sharply than she intended. Ever since the day Sonya died, their friendship had been… strained. She knew it was unfair, knew that Ryan was hurting just as much as she was.
Alas, her heart wasn’t always in sync with her brain.
And so she’d pushed him away, choosing to suffer alone in her grief. After all, she’d told herself, Ryan had Graham – his late nan’s husband – to help him. He didn’t need her.
And she couldn’t face him.
Ryan took in a deep breath. “Yeah. Right.”
Yaz pressed her lips together, swallowing hard. “I’m sorry,” she finally said, her voice barely more than a whisper. “I know today isn’t easy for you, either.”
“No,” Ryan agreed. “It’s not.”
They sat again in silence for a while before Ryan spoke again.
“Yaz, can we please talk?”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” Yaz said flatly.
“Yes, there is,” Ryan said, and Yaz turned to look at him, immediately on the defensive. “Please, Yaz. Stop pushing me away. Especially today.”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Yaz said, more forcefully this time. “Not right now.”
“Then when?” Ryan asked, shaking his head. “It’s been a year, Yaz, and we haven’t talked about it. You’ve barely talked to me at all. We’re both hurting, and –”
“My sister is dead,” Yaz hissed. “Because you shot her.”
Ryan stilled.
Yaz looked back over the lake, her throat tightening as she fought back the tears that threatened to spill.
“I loved her, too, Yaz.” Ryan’s words were quiet, each sounding more difficult to get out than the last. “Every day, I think about what else I could have done. Should have done. Wished that it could have been me instead. But you and I both know that she would have rather died than be converted.” He took in a deep breath. “I don’t – I can’t – blame you for not being able to pull the trigger. But please, don’t blame me for doing it for you.”
Yaz whipped her head around to look at him, but Ryan was already getting up and walking away. She trembled, his words hitting something deep inside her.
She hated herself. Hated herself for not keeping Sonya safe in the first place, for not having the courage to do what she needed to in the end. Ryan was right. It was so much easier to blame him instead, and she’d held on to that lifeline with a death grip.
After all, what was one more bloodstain on her hands?
With a sigh, Yaz slid the knife back into its holster and stood, deciding to skim one last rock before heading back to camp for dinner.
I wish… I wish I could forgive.
Forgive Ryan.
Forgive Sonya.
Forgive herself.