The Scavengers

They wandered the blue and purple skies, searching.

They searched near & far for many different things, usually finding something of value from a time long lost.

Two women were they, sisters in fact, and they shared a bond greater than any other. Perhaps once they had names, but they could remember then no longer. They had one job: search the Wreckage. They went to the Wreckage everyday. Each day exploring new depths & new wrecks that had been deposited there.

They found many things indeed. They found food, gardens where they could always find what they desired. They found parts, those they back, certain to fetch them a good reward. And sometimes they found things they wished they had never found.

Bands that matched the color of the setting sun, that marked the set of a much happier world. A world that they still remembered Yellowing with age and more brittle than before, they found things once belonging to someone or something else. Some crushed to a fine powder, others twisted beyond recognition, blackened with soot.

All reminders of the world they had tried to escape but never could.

They went back to their home at the end of the day, carrying the loads of what they had found on their backs.

He was always there when they returned, waiting for them. An unintelligible expression with a face that was constantly shifting met them when they came through the entrance. They remembered the first time they had met. He still seemed to relish the memory of it, his hands still seemed to drip, reeking of iron.

Dropping their catch in the center of the room, he looked at it and then took a couple of choice objects. Placing a small saucer in his coat pocket and a kettle in a small bag he had. And as mysteriously as he had come, he left. The void itself seemed to take him away but how could it when he barely seemed to exist at all. The air shimmering & distorting everything about him.

They went to their slabs and plugged themselves in, awaiting the next day.

The next day came everyday. The same routine with small differences. Days and weeks started to blur, the months over in hours and the days lasting years.

However, one day they came home to emptiness. The man did not greet them as he usually did. The normal dread was replaced with unease. What could have happened, they knew naught and didn't know what to believe.

The next day came and they went through their routine once more. Once more, the man did not appear.

The third day came. They knew something was wrong, the absence of whom they hated brought them distrust and curiosity. They felt that something would happen. On their return home they were almost certain that the man would be there but once again he was not.

They went through their slabs and started to plug themselves in when they heard the door open. They could hear two sets of footsteps, one in a rhythmic fashion, the other hurried at times, at others silent. One of them, the latter, called out; one of them called to the sisters. They started answering the call, walking towards it, not exactly knowing why they were doing it.

They saw the second figure, their eyes met.

And they remembered.

And they felt hatred.