War Balm

Everything around us was ash and rust. She looked at me and said "I think this is it" and I prayed she was right. We had been following the wall an entire day and the distant muffled screams I too could hear were the first sign of life. The sun's oppressive rays bore down through our souls and into the sands of the desert to never let us forget how we got here. After the collapse and after the bombs there was a legend among the survivors; of a group. A beacon of hope, the vagabonds of truth. The last band in the world. We came to an opening in the wall and pushed through with new found fervour. This was it. We abandoned the desert and stood at the lip of a massive crater. This must have been one of the bombs. And there they were, surrounded by thousands of people wailing and gnashing their teeth. This is War Balm. They stood in the middle of the mob among the roaches and the chaos and struck down with an intensity that rivalled the riots of the end of civilization. Their guitars buzzed with violent furry and the drums pounded through me. I was entranced. I had been transformed from a survivor to a soldier of the new world and soon all I could see was a kaleidoscope of blood.