Eden's Root

by Rachel Fisher

  “Nope!” she said brightly. “I love that City and it’s always loved me. I’m looking forward to it.” Her eyes flew to memories of magnificent fingers of steel and glass, beneath which people clad in suits and hustle ran like a river. She’d loved wandering those streets with her parents, adrift in a Kasbah of smells and sounds and tastes. Summer visits always warranted a double-chocolate cookie followed by an equally delicious snap in the Sheep’s Meadow. But most of all, amid everything else, Fi loved what Maggie had revealed. Throughout the City were sprinkled hundreds of peaceful, hidden gardens set like gems in the midst of glittering chaos. When Maggie first brought her to one of these gardens to draw, Fi had been too amazed to put charcoal to paper. Outside, just two steps away was a honking, bustling, zig-zagging pulse of life, but in that simple little brick garden there had been nothing but the buzz of bees and sunlight.

  Fi took a deep breath and exhaled. She turned to Doc with a small smile.

  “Maybe in the City I can actually see the past one more time.”

  Back in the City

  ----------- Fi -----------

  When Fi and Sean finally drew close to the City, she felt her chest tighten. The glittering towers stood still, silent monuments to what had been. From this distance, she thought, you couldn’t even tell that anything was wrong. That was, until night fell.

  As the sun sunk lower in the sky, Fi felt the tears well higher in her eyes until they broke their bonds and sailed down her cheeks. The New York City skyline was dark, just a silhouette of black spiking mountains and stepped foothills against the brilliant night sky. She knew that Sean could tell that she was crying, but for the first time in a long time, she didn’t care. It was all over. Her beautiful City was dead.

  The tears fell silently as she said goodbye to her memories, one by one. The only thing she could be glad about was that Mike and Maggie hadn’t ever seen the City this way. Though their loss felt more permanent, now that she saw that she’d lost the City as well. Her heart wrenched as she mourned them all…all the people who had ever loved or laughed or lived in that City. It was all gone now.

  After a time, her tears dried up and the familiar empty feeling took its place. She sniffed and wiped her face. It was time to get it together, she thought. This was just another raid.

  “Let’s go,” she whispered and Sean followed her to the bridge. Thankfully, he didn’t say a word. A large waxing moon ascended as Fi and Sean climbed down from the damaged bridge. When her feet hit the ground Fi felt ‘official’, she was back…back in the City. Though they were expecting to find the City largely abandoned, Fi knew that they couldn’t count on it and there were likely to be some Others. That was why this raid, like all raids, was going to be conducted at night.

  “You have your list ready?” she asked Sean. He patted the pocket of his light jacket and pulled out a folded piece of paper to show her, and then replaced it. Though they both had memorized all the basics to grab on raids long ago, this raid included lists of the specialized drugs needed for Rachel. The names were so bizarre that she and Sean knew they’d have to keep the lists in order to be sure.

  This check was necessary before they split up. They both decided that this was necessary, despite the risk. They needed to cover the entire City as quickly as possible so that they could squeeze everything from it in one trip. They turned and snuck quietly southward, taking in their surroundings. As they walked, Fi kept her head on a swivel. Cool white moonlight drifted along the tops of the buildings while she and Sean maneuvered in deep darkness at ground level. Though Fi appreciated the cover, it slowed their progress. She only caught glimpses of the buildings around them, but her heart picked up when she started to notice some consistent graffiti. She could swear that she saw the same two symbols a few times already. They hit an avenue and a large intersection yawned open, allowing them both a better view.

  “Do you see that?” Sean whispered, gesturing toward the graffiti scrawled on a large bank building across the street. It looked like a cross with a capital D around it. Fi turned to Sean and nodded with a frown.

  “What do you think?” she whispered to him. “Did you see the others?” He nodded. So they had both noticed the graffiti scrawls decorating the buildings around them. “They’re everywhere,” she hissed in frustration. It was not an option to abort this raid, she thought, feeling the pressure.

  “Looks like gangs or tribes,” he said quietly. “Must be territories.” That made sense, Fi thought. “No way to tell how many actual Others there are, but I’ve seen at least three different gang signs so far. At least, I’m pretty sure I have.” Fi sighed. This wasn’t great news, but then again, maybe it was ok.

  “If they are marking territories,” she suggested, “then we just need to stay out of the marked areas as much as we can, right?” Sean tilted his head, thinking.

  “I guess there is some advantage to them declaring themselves,” he agreed. “But I still think the risks here are pretty great. The City is definitely not a Ghost Town.” Fi knew he was right.

  “Ok,” she whispered, “I say we locate some resources nearby while we’re still together and see if that part of the rumor is true.” Sean was quiet. Fi knew he was thinking that it was smarter to leave. “We’ve come all this way,” she pled with him, “and the Family needs us to succeed.” He made a small noise. She knew he was thinking of Rachel. They’d hit a hospital in Englewood yesterday, but hadn’t found any of the specialized stuff they needed for Rachel.

  “Ok,” he whispered. “But you follow me because I’m more cautious,” he laid out his conditions. “We will start with food, that is truly the game-changer anyway.” Fi nodded in agreement. Within a minute, they came across a small grocery store. Though the door was bolted shut and the window had bars over it, the bars had been pried away in one corner, and the window was broken.

  “Looks like there has been some looting.” Fi whispered and Sean nodded.

  Fingering the metal plate bolted across the door, Sean murmured. “Could help us because those bolts are too strong. Can you pull this back a little?” he asked Fi, indicating the frame of the window bars. Fi grabbed and pulled gently at first. When it made no sound, she yanked it with all her weight, giving Sean about eight inches of space to slip through. He slid out of his pack and inside, disappearing into the darkness. Fi saw a small red glow as Sean turned on his flashlight, and then she heard him gasp. Her heart raced with sudden panic.

  “Sean?”

  “S’ok Fi,” his whisper floated out to her. “Get in here!” Fi pushed his pack through, followed by her own. She squeezed through and hopped down onto the floor of the store. Fi also gasped as Sean’s flashlight illuminated the space. Shelves were overturned, and items had been shoved into the usual disarray. What was shocking was that there was still so much left! Fi had gotten used to finding one or two useful items in a location at best in past months. Here, there were literal piles of cans to be grabbed.

  “Fi,” Sean breathed. “I can’t believe it.” Fi knew what he was thinking. There couldn’t be too many Others if they had left all this food here. This relaxed them both somewhat, though they took few chances. They took the best of fruits and vegetables, as well as canned meat. To Fi, canned meat was absolutely disgusting. It was the worst of the Sickfood, in her opinion. Unfortunately, it had much needed fat, so she tucked it into her pack.

  “These are going to be heavy on our way home,” Fi whispered to Sean with a smile as she hefted her pack a few times. Her relief that this gamble was going to pay off left her feeling a little giddy. Sean nodded.

  “I gotta hand it to you Fi, I had my doubts, but this is fantastic,” his voice was excited. Fi knew he could see the Family’s chances of survival increase with each clink of a can dropped into his pack. They finished with this location quickly and Sean turned to her.

  “Ok,” he said. “Now we find what we need for Rachel. As long as you promise to be cautious,” his voice was firm. “Then I say we split up so we can
get it done more quickly and get out of here before we run into any Others.”

  She agreed. They had already worked out a meeting place and an estimated time, based on how far south they were going. They’d determined that they didn’t want to go south of the Park if it wasn’t needed. Fi childishly wished she could see the Village one more time, but resolved to focus on the goal, not her trip down Memory Lane. Sean gave her a big hug and a quick kiss on the cheek.

  “Be careful Fi!” he commanded her while she stood, stunned. His pack disappeared out the window behind his retreating figure and in a moment, Fi was alone. She stood in the darkened store in silence. A breeze blew outside and a paper rustled. Suddenly, she realized, she felt very alone. The sensation surprised her. Why would she feel alone, she wondered? She’d been separated from Sean on raids many times before. But she hadn’t been alone in a place like the City, her mind whispered…surrounded by unknown gangs.

  Sean was right. This was a very dangerous situation. She pulled out her list and gave it one last review. The first location was one that she knew on the Upper East Side. She squeezed back out the window frame and pulled on her pack, smiling at its weight. There was still plenty of room in there, but they had done well. She had done well, she thought, proud of herself in that moment.

  Twenty minutes later her pride had transformed to frustration as she rooted through the cabinets in the hospital pharmacy. C’mon, she thought to herself, keep moving. Shoving a rolling cart aside, Fi ripped open a locked cabinet with some weird metal thing she found. She scanned the shelves with her flashlight. Finding the antibiotics, anti-nausea, first-aid, and other supplies was easy. Fi had even located some narcotics, which was a relief because Maggie often had pain now.

  The hard part was finding the specific chemo drugs for Rachel. This was the fourth hospital she’d hit on the East Side. At the first one she found a small supply of one of the drugs, but she hadn’t found any of the other, the one Doc really wanted. Hopefully Sean was having more luck on the West Side, she thought as she pushed several bottles aside, sending a cascade of plastic tumbling from the shelf.

  “Shit!” she cursed under her breath as she kicked through the bottles on the floor. C’mon, she thought as she rummaged through them. Squinting at the bottles, Fi did her best to make out their names. Good Lord, all these ‘oxyls’ and ‘exates’ and ‘platins’ were making her eyes cross. She dug around in a top cabinet, banging her temple on the high open door in her hurry.

  “Ow!” she whimpered, rubbing her head. Ok, she thought, I have to slow down. Slow down and be quick. Slow down and be quick. Fi repeated this mantra to herself, letting the words set a rhythm for her. She had worked through three shelving units, when she glimpsed a word that stopped her. Her heart pounded as she picked up the bottle. Fi’s head swung back and forth between the bottle and the crumpled list in her hand. Yes! Her heart soared and she jumped up and down mouthing ‘yes, yes, yes’ while the pills clattered inside the bottle. With a single sweep of her arm, she slid all the bottles into her pack and headed for the stairs. It was time to meet Sean. When she left the hospital she moved west, sliding from shadow to shadow.

  She was moving at a steady clip when she suddenly froze, transfixed. You have to be kidding me, she groaned as she stared up at the distinct silver lettering of the sign shimmering in the hazy moonlight. She had always loved the art deco feeling of that sign. Torn, she knew she had to go, but she just couldn’t resist. Five minutes. She was firm with herself. Just five minutes. Fi slid through the door in silence and began counting the seconds inside her head as she raced up the escalator. One-pause-two-pause-three-pause-four-pause…

  When she reached the first floor and started to explore, she was amazed. Even in the darkness it was breathtaking, she thought as she fingered fabrics in the dark. Two two- pause -Two three- pause -Two Four- pause -Two Five…

  There was little damage in the store and it was silent, so she took the risk to turn on her flashlight for short glances. It was minute three when she found it. Her fingers stroked the soft fur of the exquisite vest. It was soooooo soft. And it’s long, she thought as she held it against herself. This coat would keep Maggie warm, Fi reflected. And it was so beautiful. When she saw the tag, she felt a small pang of guilt. Whew, Dolce and Gabbana. Never in a million years could she have afforded this in the old world. Never mind, she thought, it was perfect for the new world.

  What a wonderful thing it would be to give some beauty back to Maggie. She rolled the vest and tucked it into her pack. Fi zipped her pack and headed back out and onto the streets. An image of Maggie buttoned up snugly in that beautiful vest filled her mind, making her smile. The detour had been worth it. She headed west to meet Sean. Mission accomplished, she thought, pleased at her take.

  Night Crawl

  ----------- Asher -----------

  The sun was setting on the City and the Dragons had to get ready for their night crawl. The name was apt, Asher thought. Raiding at night always meant crawling through the shadows with your adrenalin pumping. Though he really needed to conduct a quick scout before they left, as usual, he had to waste time corralling Conner first. Standing face to face in the middle of the warehouse’s lower level, Asher confronted him. Conner scowled.

  “C’mon Asher,” he said, “I didn’t do anything to her but talk to her,” he whined, his tone conniving. “Besides she’s a cocktease anyway,” he mumbled and Asher roared, enraged. He strode closer to Conner until they were almost nose-to-nose.

  “I am serious Conner,” Asher said, furious. “If I hear a single word about you talking to that girl, looking at her, even talking about her,” he said, drawing breath, “You are OUT!” He punctuated this by pointing upward toward the warehouse door. “And I don’t give a shit,” he said, poking Conner in the chest, “about your seniority.” Asher turned back toward the stairs to head out on his scouting trip.

  “Oh yeah,” Conner shouted after him in defiance. “I still don’t remember who died and left you in charge.” Asher froze and turned. As he walked back, his hand reached behind him for the sword strapped to his back.

  “Would you like me to remind you why I’m in charge?” he sneered. Conner frowned and folded his arms.

  “Freaking white ninja psycho,” he cursed, annoyed, and Asher laughed.

  “You still don’t get it Conner.” Asher’s tone was derisive. “That’s why I’m in charge.” He shook his head and gestured toward the part of the gang that was lounging on the boxes and barrels they’d set up as furniture. Several of the men watched their interaction with a smirk. “Because no one will follow you if you act like a psychopath all the time.” Asher turned away again. Over his shoulder he said, “It’s getting dark, make yourself useful Conner and get ready for our night crawl.” The metal stairs rang as Asher stomped up to the street level.

  Useful, Asher thought to himself as he stomped toward the stairs to the street level. Yes, in the City, Conner was very useful. Every gang needed to have its crueler members, because all of the gangs were dangerous. It was amazing how many of the gangs in the city had actual gang members from before the Famine. Regardless, everyone was hardened by conditions. Asher had seen the worst things imaginable this year. He’d learned that anyone could be capable of anything, given dire enough circumstances.

  He had spent the first few weeks in the City alone, but after being ambushed at least ten times in five days, it became obvious forming groups was necessary to survival. It was too vulnerable being alone, even for a well-prepared fighter like him. Unfortunately, Asher thought as he slipped outside the warehouse into the dusk light, the psychos outnumber the rest of us. He’d had to make trade-offs, like Conner. He knew that if you didn’t keep some of your violent types around, your gang would be murdered. That was the simple truth.

  On the street Asher moved without sound, stopping to listen for several minutes at a time. Nothing stirred. As night fell, the gangs were headed underground, literally. Many lived in the subways overnight
. You would think with all the pretty buildings that they would do it differently, but the entrances to small subway stations were easily guarded, and that was an advantage. Plus the skyscrapers and apartment complexes were a trap, with thousands of stairs in the mix. No way you want to get stuck fighting there.

  Other gangs like Asher’s lived in warehouses because they were easily defended and could house a large gang. Most of the gangs moved during the day, avoiding the vulnerability of night. At night they hunkered down, defending their stash and their people. Keeping watch. Of course, the most psychotic of them could not be counted on to do predictable things. The threat of violence was constant.

  Satisfied that the gangs were bedding down, Asher turned to trot back to his own gang. He sighed, wishing once again that he could get rid of Conner, but acknowledging that he needed him. They already had to take the risk of raiding and scouting at night because they didn’t have enough manpower to defend their gang. Asher shook his head. Conner was actually right that this was his fault, he knew. He remembered their fights on the topic vividly.

  “You can’t keep banishing or killing the strongest men in our gang Ash,” Conner had been vehement.

  “Conner, I can’t just let whack jobs in our gang threaten and murder each other like animals either,” he’d defended himself.

  His gang had gone through members like tissues as they fought with each other, like dogs with a bone. There were some he’d had to expel and some who had simply disappeared in the night. But ultimately, Conner was right. Only the strong survive, that was just the way it was now. There were so few people in his gang who were worthwhile people that at times he wasn’t sure why he stayed in the City at all.

  Before he ducked back inside the warehouse, he stopped to look up at the stars beginning to glimmer above him. It helped to maintain these moments of silence, of clarity, he reflected. No one left him alone when he was at home. It was exhausting being the Leader. He never got a break.