COR

It was dark outside. The moon and stars were blocked out by thick clouds that went on forever. The wind was full with a gentle summer breeze that swept through the cornfields and lifted the dirt from the ground and spread it to new parts of the earth. The stalks shook in the warm air and made a low but constant rustle that was soothing to anyone who spent even just an hour listening to it. On one side of the field, a house stood just off of a dirt road. While it was fairly new and well-built, it was layered with dirty slats of wood and smudged window panes. On the opposite side of the field, a shed about half the size of the bottom floor of the house stood solemnly. Its door had been thrown open by no obvious force and the bright white light cast onto the field like a shadow. Behind the shed, a short hill with a well on top separated the first shed from a second shed, which was darkened and shut. On the left side of the field, a large generator enclosed by an old fence hummed but was drowned out by the sound of the corn in the wind.

Someone stepped out of the second shed, his face obscured by a bandana which he held tightly against his nose and mouth. He held an old oil lantern and began to travel over the barren hill. Each step left a deep footprint in the ground as he traveled to the shed.

As he approached the field, the stranger heard a rustle in the rows next to him. He spun toward it quickly, but whatever had made the noise was gone. A shiver traveled through his spine before he shook his head, denying the thought of it being something big or dangerous. He turned back around and continued his walk to the shed.

It was only a few more steps before he heard the sound again. He spun quickly, the dirt scraping against his feet. He dropped the hand covering his mouth, and while still clutching the bandana, he reached down to his belt and pulled out a small handgun and waved it at the direction of the noise. He could only hold it for a few seconds before he began to cough from inhaling the toxic air. He immediately shoved the gun back in its holster and pressed the bandana against his mouth. He eyed the field once again before turning and continuing.

Just a few feet from the shed, the person stopped and looked down at the ground. Just a few inches in front of him, a small blanket had been laid out on the ground. It was small, barely large enough to cover a young child, and was laid out flat as if it were for a picnic. The person leaned forward to look at it more closely.

Another rustle in the field caused the person to stand back up fully. Before he could turn around, a second person whose face was covered by a hood and facemask lept out from the stalks and charged toward the person with the bandana. They carried a cloth bag in their hand, and when they came up behind the other person, they pulled it over his face and held it tightly. The person with the bandana dropped the lantern onto the ground. It landed on the blanket and made no sound. Two more figures emerged from the stalks. The kidnapee reached back and grabbed at the hooded figure, only managing to rip off a piece of fabric from their cloak, which fell onto the ground. One of the other hooded figures picked up the lamp and extinguished it while the third pulled out a syringe and stabbed it into the kidnapee's neck. They injected him with whatever was inside of the syringe, causing the kidnapee to fall unconscious. Two of the hooded figures carried the body away while the last one took the lamp and blanket and shut the door to the shed as they left.

The night turned to day in a matter of hours. The sun rose above the horizon and spread its rays onto the heavy air. A trio of travelers walked down the road in the distance.

There were a man and two women, each of them sweating in the heated atmosphere. The man wore goggles and a bandana on his face. He wore a thick blue jacket, black winter gloves, sweat pants, and hiking boots. An odd getup in the weather for that day, but necessary for survival in the new world. The first woman, on his left, wore an archaic gas mask, two sweaters, the first of which unzipped, gloves, sweat pants, and boots. The final woman, on the man's right, wore a surgical mask, a sweater, a vest over the sweater, gloves, though they were much thinner than the others', sweat pants, and boots. They each carried large bags on their backs full of gear stolen from a number of places. While almost every inch of their skin was covered in some type of clothing, their hair was drenched in sweat.

They staggered down the road from days of travel. While today was the hottest it had ever been, it hadn't been much cooler in the previous days. The woman with the gas mask spotted the old house through the trees and pointed to it, directing the other's attention. They all charged toward the house, wanting to get out of the heat.

Arriving on the porch, the women looked through the two front windows while the man stood by the door and drew a knife from his belt.

"There's no one in there," the woman with the surgical mask said.

"Are you sure," the man asked hesitantly.

"Yeah," she confirmed. The man turned around to face the woman with the gas mask. She nodded at him.

The man stepped forward and placed his hand on the doorknob. He twisted it, and the door swung open loosely, even without a breeze; it was a thin door. The three entered the house, though none of them removed their facial protection. The man walked to the back while the woman with the surgical mask walked into the kitchen. The woman with the gas mask walked into what used to be the living room and sat down on the dusty couch. She picked up a remote from a coffee table and pressed the power button, directing it toward the dusty TV a few feet in front of her. The TV didn't turn on. She wasn't surprised. She set it back down and picked up a porcelain figurine from the table.

As she admired it, she heard a noise from behind her. A segmented, mechanical noise. She knew exactly what it was. She dropped the figurine on the floor and it shattered into a hundred tiny pieces. She stood up and turned around to face an older man holding a shotgun, his face covered with a bandana. She stuck her hands up as the other two travelers were lead into the living room by a woman holding a handgun, her face also covered with a bandana.

"Are you here to rob us," the man with the shotgun asked calmly.

"No," the woman with the gas mask responded.

"Are you here to kill us?"

"No."

"Are you the COR?"

"The what?"

"COR--are you COR?" The three travelers looked at each other in confusion.

"They're not COR," the woman with the handgun sighed. "They wouldn't be out during the day." The woman lowered her gun. The man did the same a few seconds later. The couple led the travelers to a dusty dinner table. The couple sat on the side closest to the wall while the three travelers sat across from them, the man standing behind the two women. The owners of the house each took off their bandanas and put them in their pockets. "You can take your masks off. The air is safe in here."

"How sure are you," the man on the opposite side of the table asked skeptically.

"We've been living here since this all started. The air hasn't killed us yet," the other man replied. The travelers cautiously removed their masks and placed them on the table.

The air was sour, like old, rancid garbage. The stank of manure drifted in the house from the cornfields outside. They combined to form disgusting air that filled the house. However, it wasn't toxic like the air outside.

"Who are you," the homeowner asked.

"I'm Tera," the woman with the gas mask answered after a short pause.

"Dan," the man introduced himself.

"You can call me Ava," the last woman responded. "Who are you?"

"I'm Tom," the man said, "and this is my wife Rebecca," he gestured to the woman, who had her handgun sitting on the table in front of her. "If you're not here to rob us and you're not here to kill us, then what are you doing?"

"Just traveling," Dan said. "Looking for… anything."

"Why were you traveling during the day? It's almost a hundred thirty degrees outside."

"We usually travel during the night, but we heard that there are some thieves that like to come out at night around here. We didn't want to risk losing our supplies."

"There are no thieves," Rebecca chuckled. "No, it's much worse than that."

"What is it, then?"

"Those people you were talking about, they're the COR. Stands for 'Cult Of Renegades'. They're a new world order."

"I think they're just insane," Tom added.

"If they don't steal," Tera asked, "then what do they do?"

"They take people," Rebecca answered immediately and confidently. "Usually at night. We don't know what they do with them, but we've never found any bodies."

"Have you ever seen them," Tera pursued.

"Never. They've never been to our farm."

"And it better stay that way," Tom butted in.

"Who else lives here," Ava asked.

"Our son, Frederick. We call him Fred. There are a few other workers, but they usually don't stay long enough for us to learn their names. They're just travelers, like you. They work the fields for a while, and in return, we give them a roof to sleep under, food, water, and when they're done, they go back down the road."

Dan began to ask another question, but before he could get anything out, the back door a few feet from the table slid open. A tall, thin, and heavily tanned man wearing an old white t-shirt and loose jeans, as well as a bandana and wide-brimmed hat ran inside, almost out of breath. Each of the people sitting at the table stood up quickly and looked at him as he bent over to catch his breath, placing his hands on his knees. None of them knew what was going on. Rebecca picked up her gun from the table and held it at her side.

"In the field," the man managed to say. He couldn't finish his sentence, and instead slapped a piece of cloth on the table. Rebecca picked it up and stared at it nervously. She looked at it with confusion rather than fear. Tera leaned over the table to look at it as well. The piece of cloth had a patch on it reading C-O-R. Tom read the patch, too.

"Have you seen Fred this morning," Tom asked almost immediately. After they all put on their headgear, the homeowners ran out to the field, followed by the travelers. The man who had run in and given them the patch showed them to where he found it.

"It was right here on the ground," he told them.

Tera stepped forward, noticing the trails of dirt in the ground. "Everybody back up," she said as she examined the ground.

"What do you think you're doing," Rebecca asked nervously.

"I don't think I'm doing anything. I'm investigating."

"What're you, some kinda cop?"

"I was."

"Okay," Rebecca said, changing the subject immediately. "Let's get a headcount," she told a nearby worker. "Tom," she commanded, "Go check Fred's room." The two ran off in opposite directions. "I want the rest of us inside right now," she told the travelers with a very serious look in her eyes.

"Wait," Tera began. "I can investigate. They couldn't have taken the body far."

"Nobody else can be out here," Rebecca said sternly with a bit of a temper.

"Let's just go," Dan told Tera. "We can check it out later. When it's safer." The travelers hesitantly followed Rebecca back to the house.

A few minutes later, five workers had been lined up near the backdoor and were being counted by the man who had delivered the patch. They each wore a surprisingly small amount of clothes and were burned from the sun. They were covered in dirt and held farm tools, some of them held together with duct tape. They all wore bandanas over their mouths and a few wore sunglasses or goggles. A few of them had cuts on their bodies from working the fields. Most of the cuts weren't too big, though. Tom walked down the stairs a few minutes later, his son following close behind him. As soon as she saw him, Rebecca ran over and hugged him.

"Where were you? We were so scared, we thought they took you."

"I'm fine, mom," he replied firmly. "I just… slept in."

"Are all the workers accounted for," Tom asked Rebecca. She looked out the window at all of the workers lined up.

"It was one of the workers. We had seven yesterday. Now we have six."

"Alright," Tom sighed. He paused to gather his thoughts. "The workers can stay out and continue their work. But they all stay together in a group. No one is allowed to be alone."

"I'll go tell them," Rebecca said as she turned around and left the house. Tom turned to Fred.

"I want you to stay upstairs in your room. If you go anywhere else, you need to tell me and you need to have someone with you."

"Dad," Fred said quietly.

"What?"

"We're out of water… the container upstairs is empty." Tom sighed.

"Ok. You just… just stay upstairs. I'll go get more." Fred nodded and turned around and went back up the stairs. Tom turned to face the travelers. "There's a well up on that hill over there," Tom pointed out the window and toward the hill behind the shed. "I need someone to come with me to get more water. To watch my back." After a few minutes of silence, Ava volunteered.

"I'll go," she said. She put on her mask while Tom tied the bandana around his face and they went out the backdoor, leaving Dan and Tera alone.

Tera stepped forward into the small hallway between the kitchen and the stairs. While the outside of the house appeared somewhat new, the inside looked abandoned. The walls had holes in them. In some areas, the floor had rotted. Above them, they could hear every single step Fred made. Loud creeks echoed through the mostly furniture-less house. Aside from the couch, coffee table, and TV in the living room and the table with chairs in the dining room, the house was empty. Almost everything was caked in a thick layer of dust. It looked like every abandoned house Tera had ever been in.

"I don't like this place," Dan said after a few minutes of silence. "It's weird… and creepy."

"I think we have more problems than 'it feels weird'," Tera said ambiguously.

"What do you mean?"

"Someone was kidnapped last night. And as far as we know, that means that the COR, a group of insane kidnappers, have expanded their reach to this farm. It's only a matter of time before they come back for the rest of us, and it doesn't seem like Tom or Rebecca care too much about that." Dan stood in silence, taking in the information. "Also, those workers were out there covered in scrapes and cuts, and they just stood there like nothing was wrong!"

"Well, it's not like the air will do anything to the cuts besides make 'em hurt more."

"Still, what kind of people bring travelers to work on their farm, and don't even give them proper medical attention?" Dan once again went silent, trying to formulate a response.

"Anyway," he began, "I don't think you should've told them you were a cop."

"Why not?"

"Because if you're right, and they are hiding something, then they definitely won't want someone snooping around, especially a former cop."

A few minutes later, Rebecca entered the house through the back door. She still had her handgun at her side."You all can stay here for a day, but that's it. I'm sorry, but we really can't afford to have more people in this house. I hope you understand. Also, we already have food spread thin between us and the workers… we won't have enough to feed you. Can you all provide for yourselves?" Dan nodded. "Good. The three of you can stay in the empty bedroom upstairs next to Fred's. I'm sure you won't mind sleeping in the same room, given our current situation." Dan nodded again.

"Where do the workers sleep," Tera changed the subject abruptly.

"There's a second shed over the hill with the well. They all sleep there. The house is for me and my family. If there are no more questions, I'm sure you two would like to go get settled." Dan nodded and the two began to walk toward the stairs.

Dan and Tera walked through the upstairs hall where they found an empty bedroom. It was devoid of all furniture aside from a single twin-sized bed, which Ava immediately called as soon as she returned from getting water. Dan and Tera laid out their sleeping bags on the floor and dropped off some of their gear. Dan and Ava went back downstairs while Tera stayed in the room.

She watched from a dirty window the field down below. She watched the workers travel together like a group of penguins. She watched them get near the spot where they had found the patch, but nobody walked over it. They all avoided it like it was forbidden.

Tera pulled a can from her bag. It was so old that the label had been torn away and the contents had been turned to an indescribable mush. However, she ate it like a delicacy and sat watching through the window.

When evening came, Tera saw one of the workers, their face red with exhaustion, stumble over to a barrel of water in the shed. He held a scythe in one hand and nothing in the other. He used the empty hand to pull his banana off his face, which he then tucked loosely into his belt. Then he took a canteen from a small bag he had on his back and filled it with water from the barrel. He drank the liquid very quickly, with drops of water sliding down his cheeks and dripping onto his shoulders and chest before he finally stopped, though it was only because he had finished the entire container. He dipped the canteen back in and filled it again and then raised it back to his mouth. Tera watched as his bandana fell from his belt and onto the ground by his feet, but he didn't notice. He continued drinking until he had gotten through three canteen's worth of water. Then he sat down on a bench near the barrel and inhaled sharply, dragging his bandana under his foot and scraping it into the dirt.

It took him only a second to realize that the air he was breathing wasn't safe. He began to cough, at first not too much, as he reached down to his belt for the bandana. Of course, it wasn't there. He began to cough more and more, his eyes watering, as he looked around himself quickly, looking for where it could be. He began to panic. The panic made him hyperventilate, thus causing him to take in more of the toxic air. It had been a while since Tera had seen someone succumb to the air. She could tell the man where his bandana was, but he would be dead by the time she made it out of the room. The worker fell onto his side, holding his chest with his arms and coughing rapidly. Blood began to drip from his mouth, at first just a few drops, but then it began to pour out like a rainstorm. The other workers had gathered around. Some just watched. They already knew he had breathed in too much. Others, specifically the younger workers, looked for the bandana. However, it was too late for the dying worker. He took his last breath and then laid still on the ground. Two workers gone in one day, Tera counted. In her earlier days, she would've jumped out that window and tried everything she could to save the victim. Now she knew better. There was no saving anyone who breathed the air for more than a half a minute to a minute. It was cruel. It was reality.

Night returned a few hours later. The dead worker's body was moved onto a bench in the shed he had died in. Dan and Ava came back to the room and fell asleep almost immediately. The workers--what was left of them--walked over the hill and past the well. Tom and Rebecca went down to their room in the basement. Tera, however, couldn't sleep. She kept thinking, "why wouldn't they let me investigate?" She stayed up until the early hours of the morning when she couldn't take it anymore. She grabbed a knife and a flashlight from her bag and crept down the stairs and to the kitchen. Tera picked up her mask from the table and strapped it to her face tightly before silently pulling open the back door and walking out into the humid night.

She waited until she was at least a dozen yards from the house before clicking on the flashlight, which she used to follow the thin and narrow dirt trail between the stalks. In the silence of the night--no chirping of insects or rustling in the wind--each of her footsteps echoed out into the empty darkness. The world was lonely.

Tera finally came upon the spot in the dirt, each of the marks still in the exact same place as she had remembered. She knelt down to analyze the struggle. She saw a set of footprints. Then another. Then two more. "Three COR members," she told herself, "One victim." She looked behind her and saw a trail of footprints leading back towards the house. Three trails, all in the same direction. Tera followed them, passing through some of the field before she eventually reached the edge of the farm. The beginning of the forest that surrounded the farm from two directions. The trail continued onward.

Tera looked into the dense woods. She had a feeling in her stomach, in her head, like a headache, but more emotional. It was something she had felt before. Long, long ago, but before. And in a world as messed up as her's, she was surprised that she hadn't felt the feeling in so long that she hadn't remembered it until that moment. But even as a cop, even as a survivor of an apocalypse, staring into the forest set a horrible feeling on her. Fear.

It had been thirty minutes since she had met the edge of the forest. She still stood with a feeling of doubt, going back and forth in her mind. "I could just ignore it. I could go back inside. And when I wake up tomorrow, Dan and Ava and I can leave." However, it was the obligation she once held as a law enforcer that led her to her final decision. She took a step forward. Then another. She started slowly but forced herself to walk into the mysterious forest.

Once she was inside, it was much harder to follow the trail on the ground. Even with her flashlight, the trail faded in and out of sight, and she was lucky she didn't lose it. However, she realized after some time that she didn't need to watch the ground. She instead looked higher, at the branches and bushes. She followed the snapped twigs and leaves that had been shoved to the side for another half an hour, journeying much farther from the farm than she ever could have wanted before she found the end of the trail.

A large patch of dirt, dozens of yards long in either direction, where the trees and weeds and bushes had been cleared out to form an empty space in the forest. At first, Tera was relieved when she looked up and saw the sky again. Something was very comforting about seeing the night sky. She felt as if it were some reminder, some map, for returning to the house, to Dan and Ava. Then she noticed the tents.

She shut off her light as soon as she saw them, and covered the lower half of her mask with her hand, hoping that they hadn't seen her or heard her breathing. There were several tents lined up randomly on the dirt patch. They weren't very clean or professional, most of them being made from logs and torn tarps, but there were more than she could count. This is it, she thought. She shoved the flashlight back into her pocket and drew her knife. Her heart pounded in her slowly-moving chest as she approached the first tent, one small step after the other. When she got to the side of it, she stopped and listened. Nothing. Just an odd and uncomfortable silence. After mustering up her courage, she reached her hand around the tarp and held it tightly before throwing it off the frame.

Her knife swung faster than she could think. It landed in the cold ground. It took her a minute to realize that there was nobody there. The tent was empty. No supplies, just the tarp and the logs holding it up. She put the tarp back and walked to the next tent. She stood listening again. This time, she realized what was so unnerving about the silence. No breathing. No shifting, no rustling against the tarps. She swung open the second tent and then a third. They were all empty. "No," she thought in her head, almost as if she were bargaining. "No," she repeated out loud.

She checked every last tent, but in her head, she already knew that there wouldn't be a single person under any of the tarps. "If they're not here," she worked out in her head, "then where could they be?" She had the answer before she finished the question and took off running back to the farm. The night sky once again abandoned her as she re-entered the dark forest and followed the same path back to the edge of the forest.

She exited the forest, only to find a sight worse than she had imagined. The fields were in flames. The COR, like some kind of suicidal anarchists, had set fire to the cornfields, and it spread too fast for anyone to do anything about it. The house was dark. No lights, no sound, no movement. The windows on the bottom floor had been shattered and bits of glass were strewn about on the ground, some of them with blood on them. The back door had been kicked in.

On the side of the field closest to her, illuminated by the fire, several members of the COR stood, surrounding the people who had been sleeping in the house. Fred, Tom, Dan, and Ava all sat on their knees, their hands tied behind their backs as the COR member in front, who Tera assumed to be the leader, played with a knife in their hands. Several other COR members had run over the hill, and within minutes they would return with all of the workers.

Before Tera had any time to figure out a plan, Dan saw her. "Run! Tera, run," he yelled to her. "Get out of here! It's-," before he could finish his sentence, the COR Leader stepped over to him and kicked his face, knocking him backward onto the ground. The Leader turned to Tera.

"Get her," the Leader shouted. Two COR members ran toward Tera. She turned and ran toward the house. The COR members were faster than her, and she didn't have time to make it to the door. She instead leaped through a broken window, slicing her arm on a shard of glass. The COR members jumped in after her. The first one jumped through the window and landed on top of her. They impaled themselves on her knife, and rolled onto their side, groaning in pain, the knife still stuck in their wound. Tera wasn't so lucky with the second one. The hooded figure jumped through the window and landed just to her right. In the faint light of the fire, she could see the knife in their hand. She rolled out of the way just as they swiped at her. She stood up and ran to the living room. Seeing the shotgun on the coffee table, she jumped over the couch and picked it up.

It didn't take long for her to realize it wasn't loaded. She began to look for shells, but before she could find any, the COR member ran into the room and charged at her. Using the back end of the shotgun, she hammered the member in the face, but not before they could get a stab into her abdomen. She hit them in the side of the head one more time for good measure before collapsing onto the ground in pain, clutching her stomach. The shotgun fell back onto the coffee table while she rolled around on the ground, hoping it would somehow help the pain. Using one bloody hand, she removed her gas mask and threw it across the room. She took a deep breath in, and even on the opposite side of the house, she could taste the ash from the fire on her tongue.

A figure entered the living room slowly, unlike the others. They wore the hood that all of the other COR members did. It was the Leader. The Leader kicked Tera's gas mask to the side as they slowly approached her body. She was now laying on her back, barely conscious. The Leader knelt down over her and watched her groan in pain for a moment before removing their hood.

Tera was shocked, but couldn't gather the strength to express it. Through the pale light of the moon that made it into the house through the windows, she could barely make out the face that had just been revealed to her. The Leader of the COR was Rebecca.

"What," Tera tried to say a full sentence, but was only able to force out one word.

"Tera. I should've never let you stay at my house. I should've known that with a cop snooping around, it was only a matter of time before I was discovered. Actually, I'm a little disappointed. I thought you would've discovered me before I took over the farm," she taunted.

"Why…," Tera tried to say. "Why are you doing this?"

"The world has been without order for more years then I'd like to count. Humanity is destined for the end, and the few people that are left seem to like that. They like that they can do anything they want. They like that there's no one left to stop them. To fix humanity, I needed to bring us together, and to do that, I need to appeal to the majority. I wouldn't consider myself evil or insane, but it does bring a certain feeling up inside to do whatever I want. I think it might be happiness. I created the Cult Of Renegades to attract the lawless freaks who look forward to the end. They unwillingly build to a new beginning, you see. And the ones who don't want to join… I have ways of getting to them."

"What about Dan and Ava," Tera asked weakly.

"They'll be given an opportunity to join, just like Fred, just like Tom, and just like the workers. If not, they'll be our slaves. They'll build the new world for us, and their sacrifice will always be remembered as a necessary evil." Rebecca paused as she pulled her knife from her belt. "You, however, will not get the same opportunity. As I said, the appeal of this new world order is that there will be no rules. Just anarchy. And having a cop around will make that statement a little contradictory, don't you think? I'm sorry, Tera. You seemed like a nice girl, you really did, but there's no room for you in the future of humanity. This is for the greater good."

Rebecca raised the knife above her head, ready to swing it down. Tera reached up against the side of the couch and pulled the knife from the unconscious COR member's hand. Just as Rebecca brought the knife down, Tera swung her's back, stabbing Rebecca just under the rib cage. Rebecca's knife landed in Tera's arm.

Rebecca inhaled sharply, her mouth open wide to scream, but she couldn't let anything out. She fell backward clutching her chest as Tera pulled herself up, holding the knife with one hand and her wound with the other. She stumbled to her gas mask and fastened it to her head as Rebecca looked and saw what she was doing. The Leader pushed herself onto her knees and picked up her knife, but by that time, Tera had already made it to the door.

Tera stumbled through the doorway and out onto the dirt road. The toxic air stung her cuts, but she pushed herself forward. With every step, the pain in her stomach grew worse, but she knew that if she stopped then what the COR would do to her would be beyond her worst nightmares. She practically dragged herself through the night, until the sun began to rise and she could no longer hear the crackling of the fire or the screams of her friends. She eventually slowed down in the hot air, unable to move any further. She had no water, no first aid kit, no supplies other than a flashlight and a knife. She collapsed on the side of the road and stared into the sky.

She laid there for hours, not moving. Still breathing, but barely alive. And in that time, she thought. She thought for hours. At first, she thought about what she should've done differently, but she soon began to think about what Rebecca had told her. The world needed a new society. A new leader. Maybe Rebecca was right. Any order was better than no order. And in this new world, there would be no room for her. No room for someone like her. Someone who wanted to fight for what was right. The world was moving on without her. "Maybe it's for the best," she thought to herself. "Maybe it's for the best."