by S L Dearing
Frowning, Tommy knocked the Mason jar on its side, letting the ruined water spill out. James placed a compassionate hand on his shoulder, knowing the deep disappointment his friend was feeling.
“I’m sorry,” Jim said. “You had to assume it was going to happen, though.”
“Yeah,” Tommy said weakly.
Their water supplies were quickly draining with no drinkable water readily available. The water they found was almost exclusively like the creek that they now sat beside. When humanity disappeared, their ability to repair the contraptions they had invented disappeared as well. Of all the things humans had done well, setting up the world for their inevitable departure wasn’t one of them. Cars leaked oil and gasoline. Refrigerators, forgotten either in houses or in landfills, leaked antifreeze. Hazardous materials seeped into the ground water, which fed streams like the one in front of Tommy. Slowly, the contamination became widespread, until few remaining bodies of water contained enough clean water to be considered even remotely potable.
Glancing up at the sky, he saw only the crystal blue, cloudless heavens above. All his life, he had never yearned for dark, angry storm clouds as much as he did right then.
Chapter Three
As night settled over the plains ahead, Tommy and James found a grove of trees near the road in which they could set up camp away from the blowing wind. Tommy collected small branches and larger logs from the nearby woods, piled them into a pyramid shape, and shoved some dry grass into the center of the structure. Retrieving the hatchet and flint from the pack, he struck the flint against the steel blade until sparks showered the grasses. Burning sparks clung to the grass so Tommy lowered the axe and began blowing gently into the pile, nursing the spark into a larger flame. Tommy added progressively larger logs as the fire started to burn brighter, until they had a roaring fire in the center of their camp.
When he looked up he saw Jim leaning against a tree at the edge of the firelight, staring out across the cluttered interstate. Standing, Tommy walked over beside his friend and stared out into the growing darkness beyond.
“It’s funny,” Jim said suddenly, without looking over.
“What’s that?”
“In all the post-apocalyptic movies, staying on the road was always the dumbest decision they ever made. There were always crazy, roving bands of militias or cannibals, or militant cannibals, just waiting to pounce on unsuspecting travelers.”
Tommy smiled. “Well, I don’t think we need to worry too much about that. There aren’t any people left to form a militia, much less enough people left to eat for anyone to be a right and proper cannibal.”
Jim turned, a knowing glow in his eyes. “If you believe so strongly that there really are people at the Grand Canyon, is it such a far stretch to believe there are others out there? Maybe there is a crazed former biker gang eyeing our campfire right now.”
James had an uncanny knack for voicing Tommy’s inner fears. He knew it was irrational, but Tommy found himself scanning the spaces between the abandoned cars, searching for movement. Shaking his head, Tommy strode out into the darkness.
“Where are you going?” Jim asked as he followed.
“Who would be out here?” Tommy chided as he climbed onto the hood of a dilapidated pickup truck. He laughed at the darkness. “Who gives enough of a crap to come out here, to the middle of nowhere? No one sane, that’s for sure.”
Tommy climbed atop the cab of the truck and opened his arms wide. “Take a look around, James. There’s no one else on the road. For over a month we’ve been walking this road and we have yet to find even the smallest trace of another person. You know why? Because this road belongs to King Tommy! I own all that you see. From where the sun rises in the morning to where it sets at night, it is all my kingdom. Long live the King!”
A flock of birds erupted from the tree line, startling the pair. Tommy staggered on top of the truck, catching his balance shortly before tumbling off the cab.
“If you’re done, your highness,” Jim mocked, “then maybe we can get back to the camp.”
Tommy laughed as he climbed down and walked back to the campfire.
Chapter Four
Turning over the plastic bottle, Tommy watched the last couple drops of water trickle from its rim. He caught them on his fingers and wiped the moisture across his lips. The water soothed the dry and cracked lips, but did little to help his swollen throat.
Shifting his pack as he walked, he looked inside and was met with only three other empty bottles. The berries had left a blue stain on one of the bottles, but they had long since been eaten. One and a half of the energy bars remained, but Tommy couldn’t stomach their thick consistency without having something to drink.
Tommy’s foot caught on a protruding tree root and he pitched forward. The lush grasses softened his landing, but the impact still knocked the wind from his lungs.
Despite having the energy to push himself back up from his prone position, Tommy continued to lie in the grass. He felt dry sobs threatening as he realized he very possibly might die in the middle of nowhere, falling far short of his goal of reaching the Grand Canyon.
Doubt racked Tommy as he lay face down in the grass. There hadn’t been much for him in Los Angeles, but the city had continued to provide a virtually endless supply of resources. Many of the grocery stores had been looted when the news first announced the Rapture. People panicked, which hadn’t surprised Tommy. They looted stores until the shelves were barren and horded food in their homes like packrats, waiting out the inevitable end of days. What Tommy had found, however, was that the same people that looted the stores disappeared themselves in due time. It was a patient game of attrition for Tommy, one that he eventually won when everyone else in the city vanished. The homes in the L.A. area were filled with disaster response supplies, and he had his pick of non-perishable food and bottled water. Though he mocked being a king on Interstate 15, he truly had lived as a king in Los Angeles.
It wasn’t starvation or thirst that had driven him away from his safe haven. He chose to leave, with James at his side, because he was horribly lonely. The idea that a colony had been established in the Grand Canyon seemed nearly as far-fetched as finding another living person in the City of Angels, but he hadn’t been able to shake the hope that burned within him. Someone had left the brochure for him to find, and he couldn’t leave it well enough alone.
Now, laying in the grass and choking with thirst, Tommy wondered if he had made the right decision. He was trying to cover hundreds of miles on foot, with only the supplies he could carry on his back. In retrospect, it seemed insane. Even now, though, the hope that others could have survived the Rapture made him want to push forward.
If only he could get past the burning thirst.
James’ shadow fell over him.
“There’s something you need to see,” his friend remarked.
“Later,” Tommy croaked through his scratched throat.
“Trust me; you’re going to want to see this.”
Tommy pushed himself up and followed James through the dense underbrush, finally emerging at the top of a hill overlooking the field beyond.
Despite it being midday, the sky had darkened considerably. Rolling like a tidal wave, Tommy watched the storm clouds roll over the plain, dumping pillars of rain.
Excitedly, Tommy pulled the empty bottles from his pack and prepared to collect the drinkable rainwater.
Chapter Five
Pressing himself further under the protective branches of the coniferous tree under which he sat, Tommy tried to get as far away from the driving rain and wind as possible. The storm pounded the area for two days, turning Tommy’s initial glee at having drinking water into significant annoyance and concern.
The storm brought with it strong winds that scoured the plain beyond and slammed into the woods in which Tommy and James cowered. Tommy was quickly soaked from the large droplets, which allowed the wind to cut through to his bones.
He felt a chil
l run through his body, and Tommy scowled. He couldn’t afford to get even a head cold in his current position. What would have been simply treated with tissues and a small box of liquid gel caplets when civilization still remained could now prove fatal, if untreated. Tommy lacked the potable water to keep himself hydrated as a sickness ran its course, nor did he have access to a neighborhood urgent care clinic.
Sliding against the trunk of the tree, he tried to huddle underneath the large canopy of branches above him. He laid down on the bed of fallen pine needles and tried to close his eyes, hoping to sleep his way through the storm battering him from above.
The next morning, Tommy awoke to bright sun dancing through the pine branches above him. He pushed himself upright, slid out from under the canopy, and stepped into the warm sun. The humidity in the air was oppressive as the hot sun baked away the moisture collected on the ground, but it also began drying the soaked clothing he wore.
Reaching up with the back of his sleeve, he wiped away the trail of mucus running from his nose. He didn’t feel any telltale signs of impending sickness, despite his runny nose His throat, no longer parched, felt significantly better. He didn’t notice a headache or sore muscles, aside from what he would expect from walking for miles every day and sleeping on the ground.
“I was wondering if you were ever going to wake up,” Jim said, walking up the small rise on which Tommy stood. James already looked fairly dry, as though he spent most of the morning soaking in the warm sun.
“I found something worthwhile, while you were sleeping,” he continued.
He pointed over his shoulder and Tommy followed the gesture to the road beyond. Hanging over the road, drooping slightly from disrepair, a large green billboard marked mileage to the vehicles driving beneath. Despite the white and red spray paint that covered much of the sign, Tommy could see the words on top of the sign and understood Jim’s excitement.
It read: Las Vegas 10.
Chapter Six
The walk toward Las Vegas left the pair in much better moods than they had seen in the nearly month and a half of walking. They had considered taking Interstate 40 when first examining their route, and then cutting up state highways to the Grand Canyon. That route, however, added additional mileage that Tommy was now glad he didn’t have to walk. Beyond just the mileage, the chance to return to Las Vegas made this layover on the trip worthwhile.
Tommy led the way up the small, rolling hills that surrounded Las Vegas. The hills were taller than he ever remembered during his many drives back and forth from Los Angeles. It amazed him how much his perception had changed when driving at nearly eighty miles per hour, compared to now where he had to walk up and down the same steep hills. Hills that would have passed by in mere seconds now took ten to twenty minutes to climb.
Moreover, he never noticed the severe slope of the interstates until forced to walk them. The roads were built to allow quick drainage during thunderstorms. That left them slanted at such a significant angle that walking on the road for too long left one hip, or the other, aching from the added pressure. He and Jim took to walking the median whenever possible, since the grassy center was flatter, though it held its own challenges since the taller weeds concealed hidden obstacles, such as discarded luggage or rocks. In an exceptionally dense part of the median, they had come across a ruined motorcycle, consumed nearly completely by choking vines and weeds.
Tommy smiled broadly while climbing over the hill. Motioning behind him, he encouraged Jim to catch up and admire the view. As James climbed to the top of the hill, they stood side-by-side and looked down at the lake beyond.
The road on which they stood sloped downward before disappearing beneath the dark water. Looking out over the lake, Tommy could see the faded red and blue dome of the Paris balloon, the jutting rusted spear tip of the Eiffel Tower, and the broken upper floors of a number of taller hotels. In the distance, at the end of a road Tommy knew all too well, rose the impressively tall disk of the Stratosphere.
“What is this?” James asked in disbelief.
Tommy turned, still smiling. “Don’t you recognize fabulous Las Vegas?”
“What happened here?” James asked as he the skirted the edge of the lake. The glossy water lapped the grassy shoreline, slowly eroding the hill into a genuine beach.
“The Hoover Dam happened,” Tommy replied. He found a new confidence now that he was back in an area he knew intimately.
“The dam was a well-oiled machine, keeping an insane amount of water at bay. But people oiled that machine. When we all disappeared, no one was there to troubleshoot issues when they arose. There’s no telling what exactly happened, whether it was unreleased pressure or a pump seized up. All I know is that the dam broke and flooded everything beyond it, Vegas included. It was on the news, just before all the reporters disappeared too.”
“It’s incredible,” Jim said, in awe.
“You should have seen it before it was a lake; the lights, the gambling, the women.”
Tommy’s smile faded slightly as he realized all that was gone. It was hard to see Los Angeles become nothing more than a ghost town, but at least the landmarks he knew so well still existed. Las Vegas now sat at the bottom of a lake of soiled water, only accessible to scuba divers. The thrill and excitement he craved whenever he visited Vegas would never exist again, at least not the way it had before.
Jim struck Tommy’s shoulder and pointed further down the beach. Tommy turned away from the lake and looked. At first, he saw nothing remarkable beyond the shrubbery that grew down near the shoreline. The more he scrutinized, however, the more he realized the shrubs themselves seemed out of place. The pair walked forward and pulled away the bushes that had been hand placed. Behind the bushes, there was a rowboat, complete with oars.
Chapter Seven
They sat in silence as Tommy rowed them out into the middle of the lake. The oily water lapped softly against the side of the boat and the quiet was cut only by the gentle splash of the oars entering the water and the creaking of the weathered wood. They looked around as they went further into the lake. Most of Vegas was hidden from view, concealed beneath the murky waters. The monuments that protruded from the dark waters stood like silent guardians that were marking a time long past; an ancient civilization that sank beneath the waves like the myth of Atlantis.
“So what does the boat mean?” Jim finally asked, still looking at the passing floors of a shattered hotel. “Does this mean they’re real?”
Tommy shrugged. “It doesn’t mean anything, I guess.”
James turned sharply toward Tommy. “Yes it does, and you know it. You’re trying to play coy, but I know you better than that. This boat is in far too good of shape to have been put here when everyone was disappearing. Someone’s been taking care of it.”
“Fine, then say it.”
James huffed angrily. “There might be someone else out here.”
Tommy smiled and pulled on the oars. Despite Vegas being a ruined metropolis, he felt a strange satisfaction at being back.
“This is where it started for me,” Tommy said, as they rowed past the rusted track of a rollercoaster.
“You told me once.”
“Did I tell you how it happened?”
Jim shook his head.
“I was playing blackjack,” Tommy explained. “I was here just to blow some money. Man, I loved Vegas! It was only a five-hour drive from Los Angeles and I’d head up here any time I could. I don’t even remember any more if I was up or down on that trip. I’m sure I didn’t care at that point. I had been drinking most of the day and was just trying to finish myself off before I headed home.”
“The guy across from me was killing it. It seemed like every time he got royalty on his first card, he either got another ten-pointer or an ace for his second card. He had this good stack of chips in front of him, too, a real stack of money.”
Tommy stopped rowing and let their momentum carry them further onto the lake. “The dealer started with me,
and I stayed. The next guy took a card and busted. Then it was around to the big winner. Except he was gone. I don’t mean, ‘he scooped up his chips and left the table.’ His chips were still there, in the same neat pile, but he was just gone. Not a shred of clothes was left, like everything he wore vanished when he did.”
“Someone screamed, I don’t know who, but it was just one of many. Seems it happened throughout the casino, all at the same time. Strangers at tables, waitresses with drinks, husbands, wives, vanished into thin air. It wasn’t just our casino, either. All up and down the strip, people just vanished. Pedestrians on the street. Drivers behind the wheel. Dancers on stage. All gone in the blink of an eye.”
Tommy dipped the oars into the water as his eyes focused again. “I rushed back to L.A. and turned on the news. It wasn’t just Vegas, it was worldwide. Religious nuts came out of the woodwork, calling it the Rapture. People jumped on that bandwagon like you wouldn’t believe.”
Tommy smiled. “The Rapture, that’s funny. People that disappear in the Rapture, they’re supposed to be the faithful. The good people always go first, right? They didn’t see the types of people in Vegas that disappeared. They weren’t exactly the ‘first people taken in the Rapture’ types, if you know what I mean.”
Jim laughed as the boat cut through the oily water. “So then all the others disappeared too, right? If it wasn’t the Rapture, what was it?”
Tommy pulled on the oars but didn’t answer his friend. He had wracked his brain for the answer to that very question since realizing he was alone in Los Angeles. While he had some theories, everything sounded as far-fetched in his mind as the Rapture.
“Who knows?” Tommy finally answered. “I thought at first that it might be aliens.”
Looking up at his friend’s disapproving look, Tommy frowned. “Don’t judge me. I just lived through the world vanishing. I’m entitled to my crazy conspiracy theories. Anyway, I’ve seen enough movies to know they love the abduction shtick.”