Chapter 2. The World of War

A bright field of yellow canola flowers is overshadowed by a dark blue sky. It is strangely warm even though a storm brews on the horizon.

The camera pans out and we see a line of weary guerilla fighters walking together. Their clothes are tattered and old. Though they normally wear masks, they are in safe territory so each soldier has forsaken their headgear so they can talk and sing freely and feel the warmth of the sun against their skin. Though these fighters are young, some even teenagers, they are battle scarred and appear much older than their years.

They walk in a line. Sometimes singing. Sometimes pestering each other with insults.

"You couldn't hit your face with your own hand", one mocked. "Brother I don't even want to know where your hand has been." The other returned. "Your mom knows.." He shot back as the others laughed.

All is in good spirit however as this gamey pack of creatures are more like siblings. Any one of them would take a bullet for each other and they all know it. Their strength is working seamlessly as a group.

One of the members carries with her a prize. A small bundle she carries close to her chest. It makes no sound. Her face is a mixture of fear and pride. Knowing she must deliver this package to relative safety before the enemy knows it's missing. Or clues in on where it went. There aren't many plausible options and she knows it. Extrapolation would be a matter of minutes for the Leaders. They are smart. Smarter than any other living thing. Their cold calculations are unencumbered by trivial things like empathy or mercy. No, theirs is a merciless bureaucracy, an order that serves only an unrelenting lust for a stronger position. An impenetrable one.

Deep inside she knows how unlikely it is they will win this war. The hopelessness is at the tip of everyone's mind. You can catch it in their eyes from time to time. Because it's really just a matter of time before the inevitable...

But none of that.. Those thoughts have a tendency of decreasing motivation. And if we need anything right now, it is motivation. A reason to keep going.

Besides.. She has a prize. And her heart tells her this prize may turn the tide.

She hopes... She hopes.

A short montage commences where we watch the baby grow among the tribe. A whole season passes. From summer to winter, to fall and then all the way around.

The baby is now an older child. Akin to a 12 year old human child. He is bold, running around the perimeter of the safety zone with some of the other children. Exploring the woods and the streams and ghost towns blown out and decayed from artillery shelling, bombing, gunfire..

He picks up a handful of old spent rounds. Fascinated by what ghosts hide behind the decay of the past.

This is the furthest he has ever been away from the tribe. About an hour away from the central village buried deep in the forest where the elders protect the young and live in relative peace.

The buildings in the town are barely standing. Mostly partial walls and caved in roofs, if there are roofs at all. There are bones strewn about with the rusting corroded metal parts of old weaponry and small armoured vehicles missing wheels and other parts that were either destroyed in battle or looted by any of the many roaming hoards of hopeless creatures who come out at night looking for something.. Anything that could be traded for food or cigarettes..

"We shouldn't be here.. A girl said to him... "What.. are you scared?" He teased her

"I don't know, guys," muttered Bram, nervously kicking a small stone in the rubble. "We should head back. This place feels wrong."

"Stop worrying," said SIlas "There's nothing out here but old bones and junk."

Bram shot a glance at a broken-down tank missing its turret. "That 'junk' used to kill people," he said quietly, eying the rusted metal. "My dad said these old weapons are haunted by the spirits of the ones they took."

Silas just laughed, tapping the hat's stiff brim. "We can handle ghosts," he teased, puffing out his chest. "Besides, we came here to explore. Don't tell me you're all ready to run home already."

"I do," Bram insisted, crouching beside a fallen wall and sifting through the rubble. "There's a reason elders warn us never to come here."

He is not supposed to be this far out. His mother has warned him many times of the dangers lurking far away from the central village.. But he is curious. He has always been curious. Even in his dreams he longs for adventure.. To be able to fight with the other troops or hunt for food and supplies.. He looks up to the elder males of the tribe. Especially the senior, Daniel.

Long had he watched Daniel in fascination.. In part it was simply because the tribe looks up to Daniel with a type of hidden respect you can feel amongst all the others. He is the oldest of his kind, which is not saying much as no real elders exist anymore... Death has always come easy to the weak and the sick..

Daniel has a deep scar that cuts across his face from top left to bottom right, right through his nose and lips. Years ago this mark was given to him by one of the wild monsters that hunt the world. These beasts were a type of enormity that the boy would not actually have a frame of reference for as he's never seen one in person.. Probably a good thing even though the idea excites him..

According to the other members of the tribe, Daniel barely lived through the encounter, though he fired off every round in his rifle deep into the belly of this beast. In fact it was only chance that when the tribe went looking for him that they stumbled on the monster's cave, searching inside they saw what appeared to be Daniel's lifeless bloody body. Why the monster hadn't already consumed the body no one knows, but the tribe members created a diversion to lure the beast out while others ran inside to rescue the body.

They boy had heard this story many times from the other tribe members, and it was always consistent with the details so he believed it.

Apparently Daniel was still alive after all this, so they brought him to the tribe's medical officer.. A shaaman really as there was little to no real medical technology available to them other than bandages and cutting tools... some needles and thread to stitch up wounds and a few precious cases of antibiotics stolen from the Leaders during raids on their infrastructure.

He developed a deep infection and nobody thought he would survive the night, yet a few days later he emerged from the infirmary on crutches. Very weak, but alive.

He was the only one of his kind known to ever escape the clutches of one of these monsters alive and live to talk about it. So of course he became the most interesting person in the tribe overnight. Everytime he tells the tale he makes sure everyone knows the other tribe members who rescued him, as he would not have survived otherwise.. This was one of the many examples of Daniel's humility and love for his others.

Daniel was also known for his courage in battle.. There were many stories of his bravery in the face of raging fires and bullet storms to rescue other members who were otherwise trapped in hopeless battles against the forces of the Leaders. Really he should not be alive.

The boy feared and admired Daniel.

The boy and his friends explored the ghost town going through buildings and basements, turning over old tables and chairs to find old junk from whatever battle passed through this place like a wildfire. So many bones... who know what animal they came from... Old uniforms from soldiers of the Leader's army.. He picks up an old officer's hat and marches around, impressing his friends.. He has never seen an officer from the Leader's forces..nor had he seen a soldier. No monsters.. No real danger.. So his imagination ran wild with the stories told over and over by the members of his tribe.. And his mother. His mother would put him to bed every night with stories by the firelite.

He remembered when she told him about the Leaders...

A long time ago... before the world burned, most of the animals lived in relative peace.. Though there were always monsters in the wild, they were not regarded as evil, even though they would maul and consume our kind from time to time, we knew it was part of life and there was a balance. It was sad that someone died, but it was not wrong. Not any more wrong than drowning in the ocean or dying from infection.. It was just the way things were

The smartest animals in the world were the great Hogs. They were so smart, that other animals would often seek them out for help and advice. They were organized and even managed to create impenetrable shelters that no monster could break through. They invented weapons that nobody could even dream of.. Guns, machines that could travel further and faster than horses, medical technology to heal their sick.

This race thrived and lived long lives that were not possible for the other animals.

But the other animals regarded the great Hogs with reverence and admiration as they would learn from them.. The world was more peaceful and a period of great safety emerged under their leadership.. They soon became known as the Leaders to all the animals..

But an internal war was growing amidst the society of great Hogs.. Factions between two sides with two very different visions for the future. One of the leaders took great exception to the Leaders sharing technology and wisdom with the other animals.. He viewed the other animals as inferior persons who should be used only to serve the Hogs and their people. He envisioned an economy where tokens would be used as a means of trade amongst all the animals, with a portion of this new money being claimed back to the Leadership so they could grow more powerful.

After this, the new Leader began a campaign of blaming all the hardships in the great Hog society on a group of animals that roamed the countryside for free.. The Hares.

To be fair, the Hogs never really liked the Hares. They often refused to participate as the other animals would. They kept to their own. They had their own customs, their own religions, but this was never more than a mostly minor annoyance amongst the Leaders who were rather more focused on bigger more pertinent issues.

The new Leader drove this wedge harder. Blaming the Hares for the economic hardships that afflicted the poorer classes of the Hog society. And the message started to resonate.

One day a young girl for their society was found dead in the woods at the hands of one of the great wild monsters. A death hadn't been recorded amongst the society of Hogs in more than two generations. She was brutally mauled.