A slight wind blew from the east—from the ocean—and past the faces of the two people. The ash drifting through the air prevented it from being called fresh, but at least it was better than that of the Underground. Bandannas were enough to keep the dust from the lungs, but her eyes did sting. The Underground had a musty, sunken feel to it, but they appreciated that it held enough safety for a good night’s rest every now and again. The cold breeze outside was a gentle reminder that, as motionless as the city had become, there was still some movement, some action; some life. The ash-darkened clouds blocked the sun, but enough light broke through to call it an overcast day.
“Time Square will never seem right to me,” Charlie said idly, walking beside Adam, her belt knife bouncing casually in its sheath at her waist. “It used to be something spectacular.”
Adam shook his head, a little startled. They had walked the greater part of the last mile in silence. They were both too tired to make much of a conversation. “A lot of good memories were had here.” Adam finally responded, a few strides later. “But those are in the past now—and memories are all anyone can go on.” He paused for a moment before adding in a low voice, “Those, and hopes for a better future.” Adam shook his head once more, something that he was doing with increasing frequency.
As they approached the Square, she checked the straps on her backpack and tightened her knife to her belt to keep it from bruising her leg. “I hope you know of a good bookstore around here, Adam. Times Square seems a dangerous place to go.” She was determined to find medical books. They would prove invaluable if she were ever able to expand her veritable practice. Beyond that, she wanted more light reading too. A library in the Underground would be a great resource to pass time with. And any amount of additional resources that could be dedicated to keeping people alive was worth the effort.
“I never cared much for books.” Adam answered, “but there was a library next to my bar.” Her interest was piqued. Adam didn’t speak much about his past. It never really came up, and there were far more pressing issues than discussing the past. Adam turned a corner toward the main square of the City. They had taken an odd route, but that was Adam’s style. He had spent his entire 30 years exclusively in this city. That gave him an invaluable level of knowledge of its streets, and the empty spaces between.
She was curious about his past, and now was a good time to ask. “Your bar?”
She glanced to him, ready to learn more about her friend’s former life. “The bar I tended, anyway. I didn’t own the thing, but the owner was never there and I was the manager by the time that… Well, by the time all of this happened.” He gestured weakly at the air.
“And you were working the night that this… well, the night that this happened?” She mimicked him, and he scowled slightly. He didn’t like to be mocked, but Charlie couldn’t help teasing the man occasionally, especially when the two were alone. She knew he’d suffer it for their friendship.
“Yes,” He said patiently. “It’s all so vivid. I remember the smell of spilled beer. I remember the conversations—nothing specific, just that they were all happening at once. I remember that some small band was playing on the stereo. I remember I was serving Turner another beer when all of a sudden, the TV went all fuzzy and the glass shattered.” He said thoughtfully. “I don’t know what happened for sure, but it must have been some sort of bomb or something.” He took a deep breath. “It’s so strange. The end of the world, I mean. I remember what we thought the future would be like as kids, and all those outlandish conspiracy theories about how the world would end. I just never thought that it would really happen. Not like this.”
Charlie looked toward him. He was taller, but only by a hair. “What was that day like for you?” It was not a question asked lightly—of anyone. But she wanted to know his story.
“I remember.... There were parties all over the city. Anybody who was anybody was at one party or another. Some claimed the world would end—that there was some sort of ancient prophecy regarding the end of the world—but most seemed to think it was just a good excuse for a party. I was of that second mindset, but that didn’t mean hosting an end-of-the-world party at my bar would be a bad thing. My patrons and I celebrated—if nothing else—the closeness of strangers. We drank, we danced, we laughed, and we slept.”
He paused for a moment before continuing, more sorrowful now—though there were no longer any tears left to be shed. “I was doing the necessary leg work to ensure that I’d awake to a massive hangover and some unknown chick in my bed.” He glanced over to Charlie embarrassed by his use of the words. Charlie gave no response. “Well, I thought this gorgeous woman I’d been serving all night would be my ‘hot ticket.’ He emphasized the words with air quotes. “I mean, who goes to a bar and drinks alone? Besides, she had been flirting with me all night so I thought my luck was in.” He hesitated again, but as Charlie was about to ask another prying questions, he continued. “I served Turner his drink, and that’s when the TV cut out. I was going to have to realign the antenna, but I still had a martini to serve first. So, I walked over to the woman and gave her the drink on the house, and that’s when it hit. The earthquake, I mean. It jolted me to the ground, spilling the martini everywhere. I wish I had blacked out during the fall, but instead, I looked up as the woman rocketed to the ceiling and landed on her head in a crumpled heap. She was definitely dead—the blood was everywhere. I heard shouting from the front of the bar, and so I ran back to see what the problem was, but I was… a little delirious to say the least. I looked around my messy little Times Square tavern to try to gain my footing again, but it wasn’t that easy. The wall to the street was gone completely. Patrons were frantically running and screaming. In the chaos in the beginning, I think some were even already looting the alcohol, but that was the least of my worries—I figured I would be able to file an insurance claim on them, but there were just so many people lying unconscious on the floor. I didn’t know where to help first, but I knew someone had to help everyone.”
He started speaking more quickly, and vigorously. It was all Charlie could do to pay attention—not that the narrative wasn’t interesting, but she needed to keep an eye trained on every surrounding building too. “I slowly moved back behind the bar, paying attention to the patrons rushing around me. I tried to use the bar’s phone to call the police, but there was no signal. I wasn’t really sure where to go or what to do. My vision was beginning to go blurry as I looked out around at the bar. I knew I had to get help, but with the phone not working, I didn’t know exactly how to get it. I looked out at the wreckage in the streets. Maybe there was a police officer nearby, so after I grabbed the bar’s pistol, I made a run for it.
“Fire spurted from cracks in the pavement. I looked across the street down an alleyway and thought I saw something move. I looked back to the bar. The people who had been moving were gone, and too much blood was pooled around the bodies that were left. There was no helping them now, I figured. Then I started to feel the cold, but I didn’t go back to the bar to get my coat.” He took another long breath before continuing his story.
“I reached into my pocket, and pulled out my cell phone. My intention was to call my sister. I think she’s out in California, but we haven’t spoken in years, and all I really had to go by was her cell number—but I had no service. I thought that it was strange since I always had service in the city. That was the first time I had the feeling of dread that something bigger had happened than just broken foundations. I continued across the street to where I had seen the movement. There was a loud groan—a female voice. I moved toward the sound as cautiously as I could and saw a young girl slumped against the wall.
“I felt something strange, followed by a sharp shriek—something inhuman. I turned around to find one of those black shadow wolves lunging at me with vicious, bloody teeth. I stumbled backward and tripped, landing hard on my back and sliding a couple feet. I could tell that my back was scraped badly from the fall, but the thing soared over my head and, as I twisted around to watch it, my face was sprayed with the girl's blood as the monster devoured her.” He let out a sigh as he reached for his stomach. This part of the story was clearly painful, but he collected himself and he went on. “I screamed and got up, running out of the alley and into the partially lit street. The creature must have forgotten me, I guess, but that didn’t mean I knew where to go next.” He glanced to Charlie cautiously, wondering—perhaps—if he had talked for too long. Charlie nodded encouragingly for him to continue.
“I must have just stood there in the falling rain for a good fifteen minutes and then sat down in the sooty street. There was a bright and unnatural glow nearby. I could tell that it wasn’t the fires. I thought it might be a flashlight or something, but it was pretty bright. ‘Who's there!?’ I yelled, reaching for the pistol but not taking it out of my pocket. Then the light faded and disappeared. A figure...a woman moved toward me and I stood up, terrified about another encounter with that shadowy creature.” He let that sit in the air for a moment before ending pathetically with “And I just knew I had to go on, but didn’t know where to go. I collapsed from… from terror.” Charlie knew there was something he was hiding by the rapid ending, but thought it better to not press.
After another pause, he added. “I don't remember anything after that. But Turner found me and dragged me back to the bar, a place we thought might be safe. It wasn’t, so we pretty quickly moved underground when the raids started to get… bad.” He looked to Charlie again.
Charlie wasn’t certain exactly how to respond, so the pair fell into silence once more. Sooner than they had thought, however, they were outside the library. Charlie knew this place would be full of good discoveries. It was the least damaged place she had seen since the apocalypse. And who would care about books in this world except her? The library would have all sorts of books that hadn’t been a part of the initial looting. There was likely a break room too—and maybe even a kitchen, if they were lucky.
Though the library was in relatively good form, shattered glass from the now empty display windows scattered on the street corner. Some books lay on the floor of the library—their pages either blowing in the wind, or else the pages were bent in the books that landed open-end down during the tremors that now felt so long ago. Sometimes Charlie had to remind herself that they had really only been a week ago. The Underground had grown quickly, both in terms of members and societally. She had seen the faces of her friends go from fear-riddled to stress-filled, and now to resigned in that time. So many of the people in the Underground had already given up hope, and that was perhaps the most frightening thing that she had seen these past days—not the shadow creatures, or the dwindling supplies, but the end of a desire to find a way to live. She knew that Adam sensed such a disposition too, though neither had talked about it—let alone figured out how to bring hope back to their friends. That was not a problem for the moment.
Silently—cautiously—they entered the library. It was not a very large place, Charlie noticed, though they had certainly crammed the shelves in as tightly as possible. It was surprising that most of the books were still on the shelves, but such a thing didn’t warrant comment. A small chandelier had fallen to the ground on the day that the world had been torn apart, and it lay motionless and shattered now. But other than that, the damage was minimal.
“Wanna go look for a kitchen or break room?” She asked as she stepped up to the shelves. Adam nodded and began to head to a door that might lead to a back room. The books on the shelves were in fantastic condition. She perused the tomes from a now-ancient time, flipping through the pages of the ones that most caught her eye.
“Who are you?” The question made Charlie wheel around, dropping the paperback book she had been looking at to the floor, only now remembering that she hadn’t paid attention to her surroundings. She and Adam should have searched the building for people first. It wasn’t until she made eye contact with the child that she realized she was in very little danger. The girl, perhaps in her early 20s, wore a navy blue fleece that was slightly too big for her, and jeans. There was no weapon—none that Charlie could see anyway.
Despite her short stature, she had hair to her knees, worn down and black. Her small, round green eyes were inviting, yet she stood in a way that showed she was ready to run. The warmth was unexpected. “Charlie,” she tried to put some warmth into her voice, and spoke loudly enough for Adam to hear—hopefully. He would want some warning if there were people around. “Are you all alone?” She tried to not sound too loud, but Adam needed to hear that question too.
The girl studied her for a moment before bringing a backpack to the shelf and began loading some fiction into it. Charlie smiled to herself. The other girl casually answered, “April, and I’m not alone.” Charlie bent to pick up the book she’d dropped and started to search the nonfiction section for any medical books.
After a moment, she began to get to know the younger girl, “so how did you find this library, April?”
“This was my home, most recently, though I think that will no longer be the case.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw April look around sadly. It was crazy to think about this child living in such an unfortified place. How did she protect herself from those shadow wolves? What about raiders? Perhaps the raiders didn’t care about books, but when those wolves caught a scent, they seemed to follow it anywhere.
Instead of asking any of those questions, she asked the obvious one. “Where are your parents?” She feared that the answer would be that she watched them die in the apocalypse. Instead, what she got back was equally heartbreaking in its wintry temperament.
“Never really knew them,” she shrugged, and Charlie’s heart went out to her. But that begged the question: who was the other person?
Again choosing not to ask her internal question, she said simply, “Me neither.” A book caught her eye and she picked it off the shelf. Something to do with psychological ailments, it made a loud noise as it clunked against the other hardcover books already in her bag. April looked at her for a moment before returning to the shelf for more.
“I’m sorry,” April said softly. A chill ran up Charlie’s back, quickly encompassing her entire body briefly. She was a little surprised that those simple words could cause the feeling, but no one had said that to her yet.
“I’m sorry too,” Charlie wanted to extend the same courtesy to her, but April didn’t appear as touched by it as she herself had been.
“I’ve had time to get over who I was to my parents,” those words were a shock to Charlie. Perhaps the girl’s parents weren’t dead—just gone. At least the girl had known her parents. She refrained from saying it. It was too bitter to vocalize. Besides—was it even better to have known one’s parents and lose them, or to have never known them? There was no easy way to answer that question.
So instead of offering the question, she fell silent. But the silence didn’t stretch long. “Who’s this now?” Adam said curtly as he returned to the room.
Charlie and April turned away from the shelves once more to look at the man, just in time to see him pull out his pistol, though he didn’t really aim it at anyone. Charlie addressed him first. “Put that away. It’s obvious that she means us no harm.” It took Adam a moment, but then he reluctantly put his weapon away.
“Now,” April began. “Let’s see here. What brings you here specifically? Just the books?” She glanced around at the books. Many were still readable, though there were sections that held books far too destroyed to be legible.
Charlie nodded rapidly. “Books and other supplies.”
“But we’re not here to take what’s already been claimed. We want no quarrel.” Adam added, his hands raised in front of his body and eyes widened. Then, lowering his hands again, he continued into a spiel that Charlie already knew all too well. “But we do want to offer you a proposition. We’ve been establishing a community.” Charlie heard it as background noise. “There’s strength in numbers, and we need to be strong now—stronger than ever. I’m not sure where you’ve been sleeping, but we have a base of operations, and a growing community that helps each other. That’s invaluable in this time of distrust. That base of operations is well fortified and guarded by skilled combatants, but we always need more people. The city fell the day we were attacked, but not all is lost. We can still cling to our humanity; to our society, and to each other. But we can’t do it alone. We need help. We need you.”
Charlie let the silence following the spiel sit—let it sink in. She had helped to write the small speech, but Adam was the best at delivering it. All Charlie did in the silence was glance over to April. She was definitely considering the offer.
April put up a hand. “This sounds like something that we should all be here to discuss.” And then she raised her voice to call into the other room. “Penny?” It was peculiar how April seemed to be in command of this other party, as young as she appeared. She was quite mature.
Suddenly, April spoke rapidly. “Chloe Parker. Do you know anyone named Chloe Parker?” Charlie turned back from the bookcase. She was done anyway. Adam was nodding slowly, leaned against the door frame to the back room, a potted fern overturned near his feet.
“Not recently,” He said slowly, uncomfortably flexing his fingers. He left it at that.
April nodded. “I’ll go with you.” She zipped her indigo canvas backpack and tossed it over her right shoulder. “And I can share my supplies, not that I have much. Just a few cans of food to add to the cause—the rest is mine.”
Adam nodded. “Understood. We won’t ask for more than you’re willing to give, but you will be a lot safer down there than up here.” And then after a hesitation: “Why exactly do you ask after Chloe? Is she alive?”
April gave a slight shrug. “No reason.” April was unconvincing, and then shifted on her feet under Adam’s arched eyebrow. “I just have a message for her is all.” Adam’s eyebrow stayed up for a moment before falling once more.
“I’m sorry,” he sighed, “we don’t ask who did what before the attack.” That seemed more to be a reminder to himself, though April didn’t appear to take it as such.
“We’re all searching for someone from our past,” April responded. Adam’s eyes darted sadly at Charlie, but she ignored the pity. “But I never met Chloe. I figure since you know her, you can help me recognize her when we find her.”
Adam raised his palm to rub at his face. “We are. And I hope that we find Chloe for you. Last I knew, she was still in this city, though that was a few years ago now.” He left it at that.
“I’m sorry.” April said as Adam sighed. Charlie closed up her bag too, and prepared to leave. It seemed to her that they would likely be going to be heading home soon—whenever they had convinced someone to join them, that took priority over finding supplies. That left little room for jeopardizing a single outing, though perhaps the blind trust was inadvisable.
“It’s fine.” Adam said tersely. “Some wounds aren’t meant to heal. I just wish that things had ended better.” Adam fell silent as he closely examined his backpack’s straps. It was at that moment that a woman—Penny, presumably—came into the room.
“These people have some sort of group of survivors underground. Maybe they can help us both.” April said to the lithe woman.
“We have resources too!” Charlie chimed in when Adam failed to. “And there’s more than safety in numbers. With numbers, we might even rebuild a civilization.”
There was an awkward pause and silence fell. “I’ve decided to go with them.” April announced again after a moment. “But you can obviously do whatever you want.”
As Adam was still entranced by his straps and thoughts, Charlie took the lead. This woman was of an average height with brown hair waving down to the small of her back. She was young—though considerably older than April. “Hi, I’m Charlie.” She offered a hand to shake, and the other woman took it with a gentle grip.
“Penelope,” she responded.
Before Charlie could introduce Adam, however, he was right next to them. “Penny!? Oh, wow, I never thought I’d see you again!” He had a boyish grin of pure joy that Charlie had never seen on him before. It was good to see the pure mirth.
“Adam!” Penny was excited as well. The two of them hugged tightly and long. Charlie shifted back, turning to April.
“I guess they must know each other.” She offered wryly. April laughed gently.
When the two finally ended their embrace, Adam’s face fell from glee to despair quickly. “I’m sorry for the way that I abandoned the family. I’ve always regretted that.”
“You were doing your own thing,” Penny responded quickly. “I’ve never resented you for that. I should have told you when I was going to Chicago, and I’m sorry. We’re both to blame for falling so out of touch.”
Adam was silent for a moment. Then, he said slowly, “Family’s family, and the past is passed. We have the future now. We have a future to build.”
“I don’t know how you expect to do that, but I’m in. We always achieved great things working together. Or tried to, anyway.” She grinned, but Adam looked distant.
“Me neither, but the measure of our ignorance is our belief in tragedy. Every ending marks a new beginning. I trust that with this end, a new beginning can be ushered in. ” He then returned himself to the moment with a shake of his head. “There has to be something that we can do. The end is not the end; it’s the first recognition of history, and one day it will be history.”
Penelope nodded. “Well, let’s go build on that memory.” Then she looked to April. “Come on!” April was shaking her head in disbelief.
“Charlie,” Adam said quickly, not forgetting his manners, “this is my sister Penny.”
“Well, that was certainly lucky,” Charlie said, surprised at how quickly such a reunion could be made. Perhaps there would be others soon, now that people would have had time to travel into the City.
The four of them trudged silently through the wasteland—back towards the Underground—hugging the sides of buildings for safety. The breeze continued to graze their faces, but with the sun now reaching its zenith, it was surprising that there were no shadow creatures to fend off. They certainly preferred prowling at night, but they roved the streets in the daylight too. But the party didn’t see a single one. Nor were they unlucky enough to encounter any raiders, though they all kept a sharp eye for dangers.
Of all things, April wheeled a motorcycle around. Charlie noted that the saddlebags probably held a good amount of her supplies, but why not a simple backpack? They had to be vigilant for any threats, and remain as quiet as possible so as not to draw attention. Right now, they had to reach safety, and grow their community. Adam was right. There was a future to build, and Charlie intended to be there to see it happen. The work ahead was far too important to focus on the things that had been lost. Civilization was in an unstable state of decay. It was time to adapt the old ways of life to fit the new molds of their world. They couldn’t keep surviving like this. How much longer until the food ran out? How much longer could the human race really hold onto life? How much longer until the final extinction of all humanity?
Those were not the questions to be asking. The questions to ask about were what to do about such things. She refused the sedentary lifestyle—refused living parasitically off the work of others. There was too much work to do to build the future to sit idly by and watch. Far too much to do, and Charlie was up to it. She had to be. They all had to be.