Viva La Resistance

• Cameron Yang, Grade 11
• Short Story
• 2013

The sound of my footsteps echo through the narrow alleyway as I sprint past its cobbled walls. I can hear the Strider approaching from behind. It’s distinct, warbled shriek ricochets around me, sending shivers down my spine.
I whisk around a nearby corner and stop to catch my breath. I can sense that the Strider is close now. Its mechanical grindings can be heard through the old, rickety buildings surrounding me. The snap of shifting pistons, the groan of rotating cogs. The sounds that gave me nightmares as a child.
Shaking uncontrollably, I bend down and rifle through my knapsack. There had to be something in there I could use. Furiously, I empty its contents onto the ground in a futile attempt to find something that could prove advantageous. To my horror, a tin can of food I had been saving clatters to the ground noisily. I press my back against the wall, eyes closed. The Strider would have heard that for sure.
Five minutes pass. I still haven’t budged from my position, frozen in fear. The sky is beginning to darken, and drops of precipitation begin to fall. It was only a matter of time before the acid rain began to start. An unfortunate side effect of the vast quantities of sulphur dioxide that was released during the Last War.
Deciding that the Strider had probably given up, I tentatively ease off the wall. Scurrying to my knapsack, I begin to gather up my gear. Bobby pins, bottled water, shotgun shells.
With my equipment reassembled, I took a moment to calm my racing heart. It wasn’t the first time that I found myself running from a Strider on scavenger hunt, but I hoped it would be the last.
Turning to leave, I round the corner to find myself face to face with the Strider itself. The beast eyes me threateningly, and emits a strange, monotonous hum. I’m too petrified in fear to return the greeting.
It’s harsh, red eyes pierce into mine, and I feel myself losing my grip on reality. Suddenly, it whips its arm forward and crushes my body between its claw-like fingers. I yell out in pain, writhing against its iron grip. All the while, the Strider continues to moan eerily.
As I close my eyes and begin to succumb to the pain, an arrow bolts past my head and embeds itself deep in the Strides torso. It looks down, confused, initially more dumbfounded then injured.
I struggle to see the shooter. A figure clad in a hood stands nearby, bow in hand. She flicks the hood off, smiling.
Suddenly, the arrow ignites in electrical sparks. The Strider shrieks in pain, thrashing around desperately, before collapsing in a heap of mangled, broken parts. I land heavily on the ground, bruised and battered.
Slowly, the stranger approaches and bends down. She offers a hand out, still beaming a brilliant smile at me.
“I’m Lyssa,” she mumbles, pulling me to my feet. "Welcome to the Resistance..."