4

Earth before Awakening

A bead of sweat ran down her neck, she angrily wiped it off and resumed her task. Her shovel picked up with precision the fine powder which littered the ground in order to add it to the mound which was behind her. She could hear the backhoe loaders picking up the dust and throwing it into the huge dumpster waiting in front of the building. Dust entered her nostrils, causing her to sneeze continuously despite the mask that covered her face. Rayne had long since stopped looking at that mountain with the horror it deserved. And yet she almost reached the roof. It was what was left of a life, a pile of dust. No one bothered to separate the dead and the powder was a mixture of hundreds of individuals. The ashes were then dumped into the sea. Sometimes families clung to the fence which prevented them from accessing the dumping site. They never knew in which truck the ashes of their loved ones were being transported and could not approach any closer to pay their last respects. So some families left memories, photos, flowers along the gate. The objects were quickly picked up, but also quickly replaced by others the next day.

Rayne had always refused to work in these ash factories. She didn't want to find out how far humanity had sunk. But she had to make as much money as possible before the building was demolished. She had little choice, with her meager savings and a dependent brother. She had already been very lucky to find an apartment with reasonable rent. Yet she was going to have to look for something else and that was going to reduce her means to be able to help her brother. Her respiratory disease was getting worse day by day.

"Damn it!

She turned to see Derek, his body covered in ashes, his face had taken on a whitish tint. She could imagine him as a ghost haunting the walls of the crematorium.

"What are you watching Elkurt! You want a piece of that, that's it! he cried, his hand placed roughly on his crotch.

“Watch out Derek…I could take you at your word,” she whispered.

A smile began to form on the man's face, until he noticed in Rayne's left hand the notched knife she hid in her pocket.

He grimaced before turning to the locker room, but not without adding as he left.

"You will pay me for that!" I promise you !

“Rayne… don’t get in trouble with Derek, it never does any good. This guy is the type to search the pockets of the corpses he picks up. I saw him one day, snatch, Rayne,

pull out a dead person's tooth just because it was silver," whispered Karl, who was also busy with his shovel.

Karl had always worked at the crematorium, he had to take care of his six nephews. They were left with him, their mother's job as a waitress didn't pay much. He had promised his brother to watch over them before he died at the gate and was not about to let them down.

Rayne also suspected that her relationship with her sister-in-law had become much more intimate, but if so, they were keeping a low profile.

“Maybe I should do like him then. I don't have time to take care of Derek, Karl, I have enough on my back already. Ryan has started throwing up again, he can only eat one meal a day, and refuses to swallow the bars I offer him. I do not know what to do.

The frustration and desperation were so visible on her face that Karl put a hand on her shoulder, trying to reassure her, even though she usually rejected that kind of reassurance.

“You will find a solution, you always find a solution.

Then he gave her a hesitant look.

- Nope ! No Karl I will not do that. I won't take the night shift, they're… monsters, she finished whispering while checking that no one was listening to them.

“I heard that in a month the best of them can get a week pass.

- Nope. I will find the money otherwise, she said to conclude. She would still refuse to work at night. She would rather sell her body than take part in their horrors. But she was certain that another opportunity would present itself to her before she reached that point.

Rayne hoped so because he only had his brother left in life. Lost in thought. She returned to her pile.

Meanwhile, on the other side of town, a young boy was drawing symbols on the glass in front of him. His labored breathing created a slight mist on the glass. Sometimes he traced the cracks that dotted the only window in the studio. They looked like him. He had cracks inside him that kept getting bigger over time. The glass would break one day, and he would die. He had less and less energy, the slightest inspiration had become one more gift that the day gave him. He knew his death was approaching, Paula, his neighbor also suspected him, he saw it in her eyes, when she came to see if he was still alive. And that was her goal, to know exactly when she would have the right to call the garbage collectors. Rayne was the only one who was convinced that he could pull through and that with a little money, breaking through the fence and visiting a high-end hospital that would make his illness go away would be possible for them. But she was the only one who believed him now, and he had come to terms with it. He was counting the days and hoped that his sister would manage to find happiness even after her death. All his friends had gradually disappeared. They had succumbed to the same disease as him. He knew it, every time he saw a garbage collector come out of their house, a small bag on the back, too small to hold an adult. One day it would be his turn. This morning, her last friend had been thrown into the truck. Only he remained. And he was tired of waiting.

Their parents were long dead. The city had swallowed them. That's what his sister had told him at the start, she wanted to appease a little boy who didn't understand why his father and mother weren't coming home, why it was no longer mum tucking him in, why dad didn't made him laugh more every morning. If the city had swallowed them, it could spit them out. He had believed this childhood tale for years and he had watched the manholes for a long time, hoping to see them reappear one day. He had stopped believing it the day he saw his sister discreetly rearranging the large white package she was carrying in her arms. He had had time to lay his eyes on the empty gaze of the man and his childhood dreams had been shattered. The city had swallowed him well and it would soon swallow him too.

He left the window to walk towards their bed. There was not enough room in this studio for many things anyway. He lifted the mattress with difficulty and pulled out his treasure. The cover of the newspaper he held in his hands was in poor condition, even though he had repaired the spine himself and painted the edges. He still had a few blank pages left and he had things to write.

He only stopped when he heard the keys in the lock and hastened to hide the object.

"Did you have a good day Ryan?" Rayne asked, placing his jacket on one of the two chairs in the studio. Her hair still bore the traces of her sinister work, and the dark circles around her eyes weren't just from fatigue. Ryan was still able to read his mood just by the size of the dark circles under his hazel eyes. He hadn't seen them sparkle for a long time. He always replied the same thing

"yes, I rested, no, I didn't go out and yes I missed you too".

There was nothing more to say and Rayne preferred to get rid of the macabre dust that covered her as soon as possible. Too often he heard her cry in the shower when it had been a rough day, she thought the water was preventing her from hearing it, but he always knew. This was the case today. She would only take the time to crack open a protein bar and sit on the bed with her back against the wall.

"Hard day ?"

"As usual. Just a lot of work," she muttered, chewing on the bar.

"Paula won't be able to make it tomorrow. She has a date with her ex-husband. He still doesn't want her to see their daughter."

"And she won't see it until she stops injecting herself with that shit," her sister replied.

"That is to say, never," Ryan sighed, before laying eyes on the dreamcatcher hanging on the opposite wall.

"Are you going to look for another job?"

"I think I'm going to get a night job," she agreed, trying to avoid her brother's horrified gaze.

"Have you lost your mind?"

"I have no choice Ryan, with what I have on my card, we can only eat, pay the rent and have you seen by the doctor once a month" she retorted. He could sense the desperation she was trying to hide.

"Rayne, they're going to kill you, it's illegal, if they arrest you, it will all have been for nothing!"

The popular part of the city had a very strict curfew, at 9 p.m. no one was to be on the streets. Only the dead walked at night. They were called that because the garbage men's other job at night was to make sure no one made it out alive from a night out. They did not hesitate to throw the most recalcitrant into the dumpster and you could hear their screams as their bones were slowly crushed. In the streets, at night, there was a rule "In the night if they hunt you, run away and if they catch you, end your life". The night garbage collectors were artists of death. We then spoke of a funeral procession or a macabre caravan.

"So what do you want me to do Ryan? Tell me, find a solution for me."

"I want you to give up," he began, but he could already see the stubbornness on her face that characterized her so well.

Look at me Rayne! he continued, standing in front of her.

Really look at me!"

He had lost weight and his clothes were floating around him. He lifted his T-shirt and let the signs of illness show. His ribs seemed to want to tear his skin so thin. But that was the least disturbing, the latter seemed transparent in some places and you could almost see the organs that were desperately trying to keep him alive.

"I don't have much time left, you'll have to get used to it" he insisted. Rayne was shaking her head refusing to listen.

Ryan then took his sister's hand, placed it gently on his chest and then placed his hand on hers.

"Do you hear my heart Rayne? One day it won't beat anymore." Rayne tried to remove his hand, but he clenched it.

"Listen, listen!" he cried as Rayne's hand began to shake and tears began to stream down her cheeks.

"You're going to have to live with this. I won't be here. And I don't want you to fall apart. Live Rayne, do something you love, go back to school. But don't use my illness to run away from your own life. There will be only you one day…find yourself a new purpose."

"No, I refuse!" she screamed, snatching her hand from his before leaving.

Ryan stared at the door. His gaze reflected pain, helplessness, but no regret. He then turned to the window, sure he had seen a new crack forming there.