Gregory Palmer had searched for months, looking for Mavis, for any sign of her. Early on he had enlisted the help of his friend General Arnold, but it hadn’t mattered. Their efforts had yet to bear any fruit. And the General was becoming more frustrated by the day at the way resources were being poured into this search rather than devoted to their defence of the front lines. After all, it was like trying to find a needle in a haystack.

  It was to their surprise then that one day, the lead they had been so desperate to find, found them, of no effort on their part at all. It came from somewhere they had least expected – their enemy – the anti-mavis faction. Or more precisely, a small bunker community that had long been aligned as anti-mavis, though to be honest, whether they had actually fought any troops from there was doubtful due to its small size and isolated location in the mountains.

  They had received a radio call from them, a desperate plea for help.

  Agent Palmer held the radio receiver up to his ear, two other officers by his side together in this dark room. They had already briefed him on the situation – but he needed to hear it for himself.

  “Hello?” a faint voice crackled over the radio.

  “Yes, I can hear you, go ahead.” Palmer replied.

  “It’s… my name is Harvey Boswell, sir. I’m operating the radio from Spring Gulch bunker in Montana. We’re… we’re requesting assistance.”

  “Go on.” Palmer nodded expectantly.

  “It’s Mavis… she’s here… we didn’t know who else to turn to. Perhaps you can help us. I’ve already transmitted to you our coordinates. We’re currently hijacking a relay from the main coalition to speak to you, so I wanted to keep this brief. You have to believe us – this isn’t a joke. Please come quickly!” Harvey’s voice had become progressively more desperate. He had already been on the line for what seemed like half an hour. Not only did he fear the other factions discovering their use of the relay, but he feared Mavis discovering him too.

  “I understand”. Palmer replied in a soothing tone, barely containing his excitement. “We’re on our way.”

  He hung up and then went to find his son Francis. This was what they had been waiting months for. He found Francis eating together with his friend Sam in the dining hall.

  “Meet me in my office. Now.” Francis’s father told him, placing a hand on his son’s shoulder. Then he looked over at Sam. “You can come to.”

  “What’s this about?” Francis enquired. He knew it had to be something important. Had they found Mavis? A feeling of dread crept into Francis’s stomach as he realised what it might mean for him and their mission, but tried to remain optimistic. It was going to be an adventure – an opportunity to finally get out of this bunker.

  When they were in the privacy of Agent Palmer’s office, he revealed the information to them. “We’ve been contacted by a group of survivors residing in a bunker on the outskirts of the western anti-mavis coalition. They say Mavis is there with them – and they’ve requested our assistance to help deal with her. “

  “Where is it?” Francis asked.

  “In Montana, around a few day’s journey from here by car. I want you to leave immediately. Sam can go with you, and one other. Monica – you already know her, she’s that girl who came back from the battlefield a few months ago. She’s a tactical expert who’s more than proved her worth to be on this mission. “

  Francis understood what his father had been doing. The haphazard and rushed nature of his father’s current words were not at all representative of the meticulous planning which had gone into assembling this perfect team. It had been no coincidence that Sam had started to be very friendly with him soon after his father had revealed the plan months ago. They would regularly sit and eat together, and play card games with another group that Sam had introduced him to. That’s where he’d gotten to know Monica. He had been a bit suspicious at first, but Sam had put in a lot of effort to get to know him. Not just to hear the story about how he had known Mavis, which most of the others were interested in – but to really get to know him as a person. For as long as he had been here, Francis had found it hard to form such connections – not only because he was the son of a prominent leader, but because of his unique history with Mavis – and he didn’t make it easy on himself. He had closed himself off from others because he blamed himself for what had happened to the world and the suffering he saw all around him.

  But he liked having a friend. Friends – he had forgotten what it was like to have them, the joys he had experienced in high school, before he went off to join the academy. He didn’t care if his father had put Sam up to it initially. He liked Sam’s company, and they had become true friends. The games they played together took his mind off the war, off the desolate landscape outside, and made him forget the constant airstrikes and bombardments that reverberated down into their shelter. Maybe that’s all Mavis wanted too – a friend.

  While Sam and Agent Palmer were making preparations, Francis had been instructed to go and fetch Monica. He found her, as usual, in the common room, playing cards with a group of wounded soldiers.

  “Monica, hey, you need to come with me. There’s an urgent mission.”

  Monica looked up at him with gleaming eyes, half drunk. “Ok - just wait until this round is over!”

  The guy adjacent to her took his turn and then Monica played her hand. “Two pair – beat that!” she grinned widely.

  The next player laid down their hand – a flush of spades. There was chuckling and congratulations from around the table. Monica had lost, but the grin never left her face. “Well done!” she exclaimed. “I think that’s it for me, boys. I have to go now – bye-bye!”

  “See ya, and good luck!” they replied, her enthusiasm having clearly rubbed off on them.

  Francis rolled his eyes. He couldn’t understand how Monica was always so jovial in times like these.

  He led Monica through the narrow corridors to where his father had requested they meet back up.

  “So... do you know what it’s about?” Monica asked curiously.

  “Well, it seems as though we’ve finally found Mavis. She’s somewhere to the north, in Montana. We’re going to go and find her, to bring her back here.”

  “Wow, really!” Monica clasped her hands together with anticipation. “Are you excited?”

  “Uh, yeah, kind of. “ Francis replied nervously. “I actually haven’t been outside at all since… it all happened. Dad said the radiation wasn’t healthy.”

  “Oh, the radiation has come down quite a bit now. It used to be a lot worse – way worse even… “ though her voice trailed off, unsure if what she was saying was actually the truth or just a lie she had told herself over and over again while on the battlefield. It was all the soldiers could repeat to comfort each other against the grim facts they had heard about radiation their entire lives.

  “Anyway… “ Francis reached a door, and opened it. It led out into a large room with high ceilings containing all manner of military vehicles. “Here we are.”

  They walked over to greet Agent Palmer and Sam who were standing by a military van, deep in conversation.

  “Ah, perfect timing.” Agent Palmer smiled at the sight of his son’s return with Monica. “I was just telling Sam about the vehicle we’ve assigned you guys.” He placed his hand on the front of the van. “It’s the best we’ve got. After all, you are our top priority. Conditions will be harsh out there, but with the armoured plating and insulated walls on this thing, I have faith you’ll make it to the mountains.”

  “How long will it take to get there?” Monica asked.

  “3 days, or perhaps 2 if the weather is good.” Agent Palmer said. “Don’t take any risks driving through snow storms, or at night. Just hunker down in there and stay safe. We’ve already packed all the supplies you’ll need. I’ll be expecting regular comms and status updates. When you get to Zone E, wait for the commander to make contact with you. “ He pulled out a large map which had a route crudely marked on it, with various checkpoints. “After you pass into no-man’s land, quickly make your way to here and then around behind this hill. We’ll create a diversion so hopefully they don’t see you. It should be enough for you to sneak by and into their territory undetected. From there, it should be smooth sailing.”

  “Great.” Sam exclaimed. “I’ll get started on the final preparations checklist then.” He got into the back of the van to check on all of the supplies.

  Agent Palmer now looked directly at his son. “Francis, I want you to know, that whatever happens, I’m proud of you.”

  “Thanks, dad.” Francis replied.

  “I wish you the best of luck on your mission. You must succeed – we’re all counting on you.”

  It wasn’t long before Francis and his team were seated in the vehicle. Francis was driving, Sam beside him in the passenger seat, and Monica behind them. It was surreal, the day he had prepared so much for had finally come. He started the engine and veered over to the up-ramp as he watched his father become smaller in his rear-view mirror before disappearing altogether. He drove up the ramp, steadily and with purpose, the tunnel curving in a spiral, illuminated by fluorescent lights which guided them up until they finally neared the large steel door that marked the entrance.

  “We’re here. “ Sam radioed.

  “Copy that.” The radio responded. “Opening the door for you now.”

  At the landing, they waited slowly for the door to rise up, the sound of heavy gears and metal clunking methodically away.

  Now it was open – the harsh daylight assaulting Francis’s eyes for the first time in years. Cold icy wind whipped against the vehicle as it rushed inside, whistling down the tunnel behind them. The occupants were glad of the insulation that protected them for the most part.

  They proceeded out into the desolate white expanse.

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  ??????

  Mavis awoke slowly. She saw everyone else was already up. She went over to the bathroom, but the door was slammed in her face – it was occupied.

  Nevermind – she waited.

  Afterwards, she went to get some breakfast from the kitchen area. She reached for some bread, but it was snatched away from her before she could grab it. The woman who had done so hurried away as Mavis watched her from behind, irritated. She went to get another piece, but now it was all gone. Others had taken it. Mavis tried to get a glass of water, but all the glasses were gone – none were left for her. Another frustration.

  Most of the residents ignored her, keeping their distance. But over the coming days, some seemed to actively go out of their way to be passive-aggressive towards her. It was just for minor things – hiding food or tools, shutting the door in her face, not letting her get water or disabling the faucets, etc. At first these were just small annoyances, but they became bolder in testing her. They glared at her menacingly, some even spat at her. It all built up.

  Finally, Mavis just snapped. She had been on her way to the bathroom, following behind a woman who went in ahead of her, when the door was slammed in her face. This time, she wasn’t going to wait. She grabbed the door handle and pushed open the door, breaking in effortlessly with her supernatural strength.

  The surprised woman inside turned around. “No, please! I didn’t mean to..” she exclaimed in fear, backing away as Mavis advanced towards her.

  “Oh, so you’re scared now, huh?” Mavis mocked her. Upon seeing the empty room, which would have had space enough for the both of them, Mavis became enraged. With a slight flick of her eyes, an invisible force like a sharp blade sliced the helpless woman’s head clean off. Her back had been to the wall and blood now spattered all over it as it gushed from her neck and onto the floor in a thick stream. It had also splattered onto Mavis’s face and clothes.

  Mavis, satisfied with the thrill rush the kill had given her, walked forward until the woman’s head was directly at her feet, and she looked down on it for a moment. It was like a cathartic release she hadn’t knew she needed. Then she heard a sharp gasp of shock from behind and turned around.

  In the doorway was a girl, who would’ve been not more than 13 years old, staring in fright, her face becoming pale with shock as she had quickly brought her hands to her mouth to silence herself but it was too late – Mavis had already seen her.

  Mavis brought her index finger to her lips in order to bid the girl keep quiet, a sign she had learned by seeing it all too often from John back in the days when he had kept her in that lab. She turned her attention back to the corpse at her feet and quickly disposed of it, disintegrating it into fine particles that then merged with the floor and wall. Mavis then tried to get rid of the blood – but there was too much of it, it was everywhere. That area of the wall and floor took on a noticeably wavy texture after Mavis was finished with it. It was the best she could manage. At least it wasn’t tiles. Though upon stepping onto the surface, she realised it wasn’t concrete either. It was sand.

  Frustrated, she left it be and turned to look at herself in a mirror placed on the adjacent connecting wall. Her face was still stained with blood, and the mirror had small droplets of blood on it too. She tried wiping them away from the glass but it just created a smudge. She turned the faucet at the sink in front of her and a trickle of water came out which she used to wipe the glass of the mirror, and then also her face. But there was nothing she could do about her clothes. Ugh, whatever.

  Her gaze finally returned to the entrance doorway and she was surprised to see that girl was still there, frozen in place, shaking with fear. Mavis raised an eyebrow at her, as if to ask why she was still there, but received no response. She walked up to the girl, whose gaze followed her, and now with Mavis directly in front of her, the girl fought back tears to keep quiet. But Mavis simply took her by the shoulders and gently moved her out of the way to the side, allowing room for Mavis to then slip by and exit the room. If that girl wanted to use the bathroom that badly, she would let her go first and give her some privacy.

  ??????

  The bunker had a smell now.

  It had always smelled like too many bodies in too little space—sweat, canned food, damp concrete, stale air recycled through filters that had been cleaned too many times and replaced too few. But now there was another layer to it, one that clung to the back of the throat: fear that had curdled into something sharper.

  The attitude of the people didn’t change towards Mavis immediately, but slowly a sense of unease had permeated the community. People spoke less. When they did, it was in murmurs that died the moment Mavis turned her head.

  She noticed. Of course she noticed. She noticed the way eyes slid away from her like oil on water. The way footsteps paused behind corners. The way conversations stopped mid-sentence as she passed. The way a mother’s hand would tighten around a child’s wrist, pulling them closer, as if proximity alone could protect them.

  For a while it amused her. Then it irritated her. Then it became… tiring. Even Bethany hesitated around her.

  But Bethany tried.

  That was the strange part. Bethany didn’t glare. Bethany didn’t spit. Bethany didn’t test her.

  Bethany just watched her, the way you watched a fire you couldn’t put out—calculating, careful, always ready to move the children back if the flames jumped.

  One day, Bethany approached Mavis in the kitchen area with a bowl of something that had once been oatmeal.

  “It’s warm,” Bethany said, as if warmth was an offering of peace.

  Mavis took it without looking at her. She sat on the bench near the wall and ate with her fingers, because there were no spoons left. Not for her. She could have asked for one. But doing so would have meant admitting she needed their help for anything. She hated that.

  Bethany lingered anyway, hovering like she had something lodged in her chest.

  “What?” Mavis asked at last, voice flat.

  Bethany swallowed. “So… how long do you plan on staying here?” Beth asked cautiously, trying to ignore the bloodstains on Mavis’s dark clothes. They were barely visible, but she knew they hadn’t been there before.

  “What do you mean, do you have a problem with me?” Mavis glared, her eyes narrowing.

  “No, it’s just, I… err, uhh…” her voice trailed off into silence. “People are scared,” she said in almost a whisper.

  Mavis let out a short laugh. “Now?”

  Bethany flinched at the edge in her tone. “They were always scared. But now…” She trailed off, then forced herself to continue. “Now they think you’re going to start killing us one by one because we annoyed you.”

  Mavis licked oatmeal off her thumb. “Annoying me is dangerous.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Bethany’s voice tightened. “They’re not doing it because they’re brave. They’re doing it because they’re stupid, and because they’re desperate, and because they think if they make you angry enough you’ll leave.”

  Mavis paused mid-bite. She looked up. “Do you want me to leave?”

  Bethany’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. Her eyes flicked—too quickly—to Annie and Jake across the chamber, huddled near Vince.

  Mavis followed the glance. She watched Jake watching her, trying to pretend he wasn’t. He looked away too late.

  Bethany’s voice softened, and that softness was somehow worse. “I want my kids to live.”

  Mavis stared at her for a long moment. Then she was about to return to the bowl, but Harvey, seeing their confrontation, had come over to join them.

  Harvey stepped in between them. “Leave her alone” he said sternly to Mavis, bravely confronting her.

  Mavis cocked her head to him and then up at the ceiling in a mix of frustration and amusement. “I’m not going to do anything to her,” she said.

  “Just like you didn’t do anything to Sarah?” he rebuked.

  “Oh, was that her name?” Mavis looked straight at him. She couldn’t bother hiding it anymore. She just wanted him to shut up. “Do you want to join her?”

  “No.” he replied.

  “Then don’t piss me off.”

  Harvey looked away in submission, letting go of Beth’s hand, he retreated to another part of the facility. The moment he was in another room and the adrenaline had left him, he began to shake. He didn’t know how close to death he had just come, but he could guess.

  Mavis looked at Beth once again. “Sorry. Was I too mean to him?”

  “No. Ah, don’t worry about it.” Beth replied nervously, forcing a smile. “He just gets protective, that’s all.”

  But Mavis could tell the whole situation hadn’t made Beth any less afraid of her. In fact it had just made her more so. Mavis sighed. “Seriously though, you don’t have to be so afraid of me.”

  Beth had no words. She looked at Mavis sympathetically, directly into her eyes. Perhaps behind that hard exterior was just a girl who had been starved, lost in the frozen wasteland outside for years, alone. Maybe she had killed millions of people, but maybe she was also lonely from isolation. Regardless, she could never be her friend, for she knew that no matter how much she might try, she would never be able to push the fear out of her mind. It was an instinctive, primal fear, one that gnawed at her whenever Mavis was nearby. And it was only natural for her to be afraid. For all of them. But of course, she didn’t have the courage to tell Mavis that.

  Others did not feel the same way. Given any chance, and the capability, they would utilise any means they could to oppose her. Though being powerless in the position they were currently in, they were reduced to considering the value of their own lives first. Was it worth the risk? There were still those among them who contemplated that if they were going to lose everything anyway, they preferred to go out with a fight – or barring that, do whatever they could do to make themselves feel like they hadn’t given in.

  “There are people here who will try again.” Bethany said softly, but the words had come out sounding wrong, and she was unsure if any meaning had been conveyed through them to Mavis. What she had meant to say was that there were still people here who might try and stop Mavis, oppose her or provoke her. The same kind of people who had almost killed Bethany herself. Although it seemed like Mavis wouldn’t punish all of them together, it was always a possibility to remain paranoid about. That was another reason why she was afraid.

  The air in the kitchen felt tight, charged, the way it did before lightning. Bethany walked away quickly. Mavis finished the bowl. When she stood, she could feel eyes on her from the main chamber, and she could feel the way bodies tensed as if she were a loaded gun being carried through a crowded room.

  She almost smiled.

  Almost.

  ??????

  There was a commotion further afield in the bunker, near the entrance, past the hallway leading to this room, something was happening. The muttering travelled down in a cascade of anticipation – what was going on?

  The sound of the door opening reverberated throughout the bunker – the clunky mechanism unlatching and the hinges groaning.

  Mavis left and went to see for herself. She made her way over to the door and out into the hallway which was crowded with people who parted to let her through. The door of the bunker was now open – cold air rushed in, bringing with it the smell of ash and snow and distant ruin. There in the entrance 3 figures stood – were they enemies? Beyond them, the nose of a dull-green armoured van, crusted with frost. Its headlights cut through the mist like pale eyes.

  The three figures, bundled in thick gear with hoods pulled back and faces raw with cold, stepped forward out of the glare of the light and into the cavernous hallway – the crowd moved back to let them in, whispering and speculating at who the strangers were – enemies? Soldiers from the coalition? Would they provoke Mavis into killing them all?

  The one in the centre held his hands out to show he wasn’t holding a weapon, and his posture was careful—trained carefulness, the kind people learned in places where one wrong motion meant death. He investigated the bunker, his gaze sweeping over the crowd. Then, inevitably, he saw her.

  Mavis immediately recognised his face. It was… Francis. She frowned, her face contorting in confusion. Why… why was he here? The last time she had seen him had been in that place, the prison where she had grown up, and the site of the beginning of her murderous rampage. She had spared his life. Why? He had been a part of it too.

  “Mavis…” Francis began to speak, but Mavis cut him off in anger.

  “Are you here to tell me some bullshit about how I should stop, and submit to you people again?” her voice was laced with venom as the memories of those awful times came flooding back to her.

  “No, of course not! Your prerogative is infinite. We would not dare to question it.” Sam, the man on the left spoke, kneeling down to cover for Francis who had frozen up.

  Monica, the woman on the right, continued. "We revere you. We exist to serve you. That much is clear to us. B-but we need your help. There is another faction fighting against us. Please, humbly we seek your help to fight back against them." Monica also knelt down, her head facing the floor.

  Finally, Francis also bent down on his knees too. "It's true. Please, Mavis. I know I didn't treat you well. I know I don't deserve this..."

  It’s true he had been a part of it. He had just stood by and watched. No, that wasn’t entirely true. He hadn’t been like the others. He had objected, and he had cared for her. She remembered that. They were the only fond memories she had of that place. Deep down, she had desperately hoped he was still alive. But did he really care about her? He hadn’t tried to stop her. Maybe if he had, would all of this have been prevented? Or would she have just killed him too?

  Mavis began to walk towards him.

  "I ... " Francis shook from the cold wind pounding against his back, that ripped the words out of his mouth, turning his gaze down to the ground. “I’m sorry,” he tried again. What more could he say? Mavis now stood looming over him. "Have mercy... " was all he could manage, uncertain whether it might be his last breath, if he might die right there.

  "Ok." Mavis hadn't taken her eyes off him. "I'll help you."