Word: Brume

 

brume

[ broom ]

noun

1. mist; fog.

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               “I need to go out there.” Jeff said.

               Everyone else in the shelter stopped what they were doing and looked at him like he was crazy. Who would willingly enter the Mist?

               “Food supplies are running low.” He continued. “Someone’s got to scavenge for more. At least until the green boys figure out how to grow something.”

               Several people wanted to argue, but none could. The food in the shelter was indeed limited, and the stores were shrinking every day. If someone did not leave to get more food, everyone would starve.

               “Does it have to be you though?” The question came from Mary. In better times, she would have been Jeff’s fiancé. Now that such labels were meaningless, they were just two people who roomed together. “I mean, there’s plenty of others here who can.”

               “And how many of them are volunteering?” Jeff asked. He looked around. Several others avoided his gaze. Not that he blamed them. “It’s also why I’m going alone. I won’t force anyone to leave with me unless things get really bad. And, since it’s not at that point yet, I’m going.”

               He went to the door leading outside. To the Mist. And to the things inside it. He quietly shouldered a large pack and two weapons. One was one of the few guns remaining. A carefully maintained shotgun, and a handful of the ammo for it. The second was a good, heavy mace. Or at least, as close as anyone could come to making a proper mace without the needed tools. It was not pretty, but it was solid, heavy and reliable.

               “We’ll use a number three today.” Jeff announced.

               “You sure?” Another person, Will, said. “I think I heard some of them trying to mimic number three.”

               Jeff paused. The coded knocks were one of the few ways they could tell the Mist born things from the people they mimicked. It was lucky that the things were not the smartest creatures, and could only copy so much. Knocking on a door in a set pattern had been reliable so far, especially when there were several patterns. But if Will was right than they had a problem.

               “Have you confirmed that?”

               “No, but it came from that wanderer that showed up last week. Said he heard one of them hitting a tree, and then showed me what it sounded like. Wasn’t quite right, but it was definitely trying to be a number three.”

               Jeff swore under his breath. He still thought people who willingly went without shelter were idiots. But they were the only source of news of the outside world these days. And that meant he could not afford to distrust one.

               “We’ll need to come up with a new identifier then. Until then…I suppose number six will do. We don’t use that one very often, so it should still be safe.”

               Will nodded. “Number six it is.”

               “Good luck out there.” Mary said. “And…be careful. If you see too many of them, get back here quick. We have enough food to last a little while longer, and your life is more important.”

               She did not voice her real thoughts. She did not need to. At least, not to Jeff. He nodded in understanding. He turned away from the people. His friends. His family. He turned to the cold metal door and opened it. The Mist flowed in. Not enough to spawn one of the things, but enough to unsettle those inside the shelter.

               Jeff rushed out, closing the door behind him as soon as he could. He looked out into the Mist. A solid wall of damp and grey that hid the world. He took a deep breath, held his mace at the ready and ventured out. 

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So, what do you think? New monster horror/sci-fi type thing? Or is it just going to go nowhere? Well, it probably will go nowhere since I'm probably not doing anything with it, but still. It's occasionally nice to think about.