​The Bonecrowns

When ARC took over the topside, it was the end of everything. Our own hubris and eagerness to force growth through technology created an enemy unfeeling, unflinching, and utterly devoted to our destruction. We became rats, surviving in the dark and low places of the world, eventually clawing out a meager portion of safety and society again. But no matter how dangerous they are, how seemingly personal the attacks, the ARC are just machines filled with code. Deadly to be sure, but ultimately impersonal.

There are some who would disagree.

“They’re an elusive people Jake. No one knows where they came from, or where their home is. Or if they even ‘ave a home. Many folk ‘round here believe they’re nomads, and there’s some truth to that reasoning.”

My father was speaking, leaning against the bar as he sipped his recycled beer. He was a raider. And an old one at that. The grey of his beard and the scars on his skin slowly disappearing behind loosening skin and liver spots spoke to that fact. But age came with respect, and in this world, respect was a valuable currency. He had seen the last Baron fall, had survived the return of ARC, and had an intimate knowledge of topside and the machines that roamed there. For nearly 40 years he had lived, raided, fought, and survived. And that earned respect. That’s why when my father spoke, people listened.

“Ya’ see boy, most would tell you that all humanity lives underground, and there ain’t a one o’ us left topside ‘cept for us raiders. And feh the most part that’s true. But they don’t know the whole truth. They don’t know ‘bout the Bonecrowns.”

“Aw pish yourself Arthur,” came the call from across the bar. “Not a soul here ever seen hide nor hair of a Bonecrown once, they’re a myth!”

My father looked up in annoyance. “Go smoke a Bombadier’s pipe Frank you weasel! All us ‘ere know you ain’t been topside in 10 years and even then never once solo. Leave the shoutin’ ta people with some actual mass inside their skulls!”

Father shook his head, “Now where was I. Oh yes, the Bonecrowns boy, they’re real alright, as real as you and me, flesh and blood. And that’s whats important to know about ‘em.”

“They live topside Jakey, yes they do. Topside with all the elements and beasties and the ARC satellites always watching and they still choose to stay up there. Y’see ‘cause, they ain’t fighting a war for survival boy, oh no nothing so trivial. Their war is spiritual.”

A few in the crowd forming around the bar scoffed, but sharp elbows and muttered curses thrown by those interested in what my father had to say quickly silenced them.

“Aye boy, it’s a spiritual war they fight, make no mistake… They worship life Jakey. Life and nature, flesh and blood, things that are born and grow and die. The machine is the ultimate corruption to them. A false entity parading as a hateful mockery of us with blood and bones and soul.’

‘They stick to the wild, outside the cities, and none know the land better. Lemme tell you boy, the first time I ever seen one, chilled me in a way the ARC never could. They hunt and stalk the forests and deadlands wearing bones and skulls, fur and beads, and always those great rising antlers from their heads.”

My father finished his beer, lightly tapping a gnarled finger on the bar to summon another. He grinned at me, and winked. “It’s a good thing they hate ARC, and not your ol’ pappy.”

‘I’d been a week outside Spaceport, ‘eading feh the great mountains. I don’t know what I was looking feh, but it weren’t what I found, no sir.’

‘On my 7th day topside, I ambushed a Leaper. Needed its power cells to recharge my shield. I’d not seen anyone since I left, but I had a good vantage on the miserable clanker and it’d been a long time since a lone Leaper made me quake in my boots.’

‘I finished it off, and were happily picking through the carcass when I felt something. Had no sound, didn’t see anything, but I felt something all the same. Like I weren’t alone. Like I were being watched. So, I looked up and there he was.’

‘Not 5 yards from me, standing next to a tree. No weapon in sight, not doing anything ‘cept watching. A whole lotta damn beads covered his face except feh his mouth. And that weren’t giving no signal if he was friendly or less than inclined to be so.’

‘I greeted him, he didn’t say nothing. I asked if he needed anything from the body, he didn’t say nothing.”

Father takes another drink, and scratches his beard as he does when he’s thinking.

“Mind you Jakey, I weren’t no spring Scrappy out there. Been a long time since anything, ARC or Raider been able ta’ sneak up on me. But this fella had gotten closer than anyone had managed in quite awhile, in an area with minimal cover, without making a sound.’

‘I was nervous, an I ain’t bothered admitting it. They’re…unnerving, the Bonecrowns. And seeing one that close, any veteran raider worth his seeds woulda been cautious.’

‘Well I finally decided discretion was the better part of valor, so I took my kit and turned around fer Spaceport. I’d gone about a hundred yards when I peeped back ta’ check on ‘im and the fella were gone. I never saw ‘im again.’

‘But I’ve seen others since. Always at a distance, always alone. And sometimes, in the quiet, overgrown places topside, I swears I occasionally heard beads clacking. O’ saw a pair of horns behind a wall. But always when I’d go to check it out, nothing. The Bonecrowns ‘ad vanished, back to wherever they come from.”

Father quiets down and begins sipping his beer again. The crowd slowly begins to disperse, the mixture of citizens and raiders chatting to friends about the credibility of my father’s story.

The night wound down. Outside in the center of Speranza, the clocktower softly chimed out 11’oclock.

I helped my father off the barstool into his wheelchair, tucking the empty folds of his pants legs beneath him, a reminder of the Bastion that ended his raiding career for good.

As we walked back to our home, I looked up through one of the main skylights to the night sky. I wondered what it would be like to live topside, still in fear and danger, but unwilling to sacrifice that most natural freedom, to have your life be witnessed by the sun and moon and stars.

And I silently prayed, to all things living and growing, full of flesh and blood, that they would protect that mysterious people we call the Bonecrowns. Those who have decided to fight a war not of survival, but of divinity.