Other than the faint glow through the windows on the fountain-side wall, the shop interior was invisible in the darkness. I fumbled my way through the shop until I found the drawer behind the counter with the flashlights in. I snatched one and flicked the button. Florescent light burst into existence. I was blinded momentarily as I didn't realize I was aiming it right at my face when I clicked the power switch.
I’m a smart one, let me tell you; lots of common sense in this here vessel.
The pale blue light etched its way along the contours of the shop's wares. The flashlight cast large distorted shapes along the walls and other tables. Several times I jumped, thinking someone was coming towards me. You never grow too old to be afraid of the dark. I'm living proof of that. And if you do, well, then you're just choosing blind ignorance, or fooling yourself. And in my short lifespan, I've grown wise to the fact that you can never let your guard down, especially not in the dark. The moment you do you're dead. That's what happened to my parents. They got sloppy and hadn't efficiently searched the building for explosives and trip wires, and what happened? They got themselves blown up. If the world was one thing, it was unforgiving and always without empathy. You get what you put in.
I used the bottom of my sleeve to wipe the fog from the front window and looked out. The world was darker and large puddles were already congregating. The mourners were making their way to homes that were still standing, sitting in the puddles, oblivious to the hard rain falling from above, or onto the overhanging porches of the other shops. The fountain looked like a giant circular well overflowing with black water. It was as if the earth was swelling up and regurgitating the excess water, unable to hold it all down in its drought-infused stomach that had grown into a tiny sack. With no established trees in the area, the water had nowhere to be absorbed and sat on the top of the soil and any object it came into contact with. Looking out at the Sifters and Metallics working in desperate unison to raise the bridge and solidify its structure before the storm got worse, I could see the sky flash purple as strikes of lightning sent earthshattering bolts into the sky. The wares in Roxx's shop reverberated with each thunderous roar. Eerie to say the least when you're all alone, gazing out into a field of death and destruction from the night before.
If we weren't skeletons before we most certainly were shallow wraiths now. Our silhouettes were mummies sloshing through the slop of puddles and rainwater. We had prayed for rain for months, and nothing. And now, here we were praying it would stop. Life is a twisted oxymoron. You wish for what you don't have only to wish it away again.
If one night of torrential downpour could cause this much damage from one flash flood, what would a week's worth of rain do?
As the next four days went by, I huddled in Roxx's shop away from all the chaos ensuing outdoors—people running around shouting, the bridge being uplifted from its foundation and sent sailing down the fourth outlet away from town—and with no sign of Roxx himself, all I had as a companion was worry. And it did little to comfort me as the storm only grew stronger.
I found myself praying that when it finally stopped and I opened Roxx's shop door for the first time in four days, there would be something left to our tiny establishment, and that I wouldn't be washed away myself. Having not slept in two days, my eyes finally succumbed to exhaustion. I fell asleep to the sound of the sky dropping bombs as the lightning cracked the sky.
The last fragments of my consciousness were spent on Roxx. Was he okay? Was he safe? Was he hurt or trapped?
As I slipped away into sleep my last thoughts were on him.
Roxx. Wherever you are, come home to me.
≈ Chapter 14 ≈
The world had lost her beauty.
We stripped her of it and pled progress and innovation as justification for our depredation. Had we been able to harvest more from it, the dirt would have fallen captive to our greed too. The only trees to remain untouched were scorched bark; bare, lifeless, empty pockets of nothingness. The epitome of what we had become. Their naked bodies lay motionless along the ground for hundreds of miles in either direction. Most only had their trunks to testify to their once vibrant state, while a mere few still stretched their bare hands to the sky as if the rain would resurrect them. It had been years since a leaf had been seen. The only reason we hadn't cut them down was because it was way too hot for a fire, and with nothing by which to temper them with a sealant, they would only grow more brittle and crack under the weight of the sky. They were about as useless as we were. Except, they were a memory, the ink of the past before the sky died.
When the first unabated rays of sunshine filtered through the rift of the ozone layer in 2088, a quarter of the world's population died within the first three months. They suffered of radiation poisoning or some derivative of cancer. Another quarter of us died from the storms. I use the word storms loosely, as it was more than just Mother Nature unleashing her fury on us neglectful inhabitants. Tsunamis as tall as skyscrapers, hurricanes three continents wide, and tornados in more frequency than the raindrops falling from the sky. And this was only the beginning. When the earthquakes started we had already been dissipated to grave proportions. Our cities were pieces of scrap metal and people had evacuated to higher ground to escape the floods. Turned out, when the plates in the Earth's core decided to shift, the first places to experience their pull were the high places. Volcanoes once dormant erupted their hot juice and puffed black smoke into the atmosphere. Entire countries' geographies were reshaped. California lost the battle it had been waging for hundreds of years and fell off into the ocean along with sections of Washington and Oregon. Alaska became its own island after that. Honestly, if it hadn't been for the ash cloud from the volcanoes, in addition to the nukes, blocking out the sun for the first decade, we never would have made it. Mother Nature actually did us a favor. The deadly rays couldn't filter through her protective barrier. Nature was protecting herself; we were just along for the ride.
Unfortunately, the darkness also meant nothing could grow.
The survivors walked around with shirts and handkerchiefs tied around their faces to block out the soot particles hanging in the air like dangling Christmas ornaments. Some were lucky enough to have masks. Most did without and suffered the consequence. The hospitals were overrun with cases of respiratory disease and not enough medicine to go around. Cases of asthma and bronchitis skyrocketed, then, as those symptoms escalated with the lack of clean-breathable air, this led to the pandemic of acute respiratory distress syndrome or ARDS and pneumonia. And when you couldn't get the necessary treatment for these diseases, lung cancer formed until it killed you or you suffocated to death. Either way, there was only one way out of this black hole: under the ground.
Eventually, hospitals and emergency care units barricaded their doors to keep people from streaming in. Many of those poor souls who had blindly journeyed through the grey haze died on the doorsteps, salvation inches from their grasp. The National Guard, what was left of it anyway, was called in for Operation Cleanup. We all thought this meant rebuilding, but the government had other plans. The large dump trucks and front loaders scooped up the dead bodies in heaps off the streets and hauled them off to unknown disposal sites. They were never seen again. At least the streets were de-cluttered. Mission accomplished! But we still couldn't breathe, so the bodies continued to pile up.
It wasn't too long after that that the riots started. With food and water becoming scarcer and farmers unable to grow any crops with the lack of sunlight, people were getting hungry. And hunger is a recipe for disaster. What the storms couldn't do, we finished. The remaining third of the world population was depleted with our favorite past time and population-control tactic: civil wars. Make no mistake, there was nothing civil about them. Friends turned on each other, siblings murdered for food, and entire nations killed anyone who got in their way.
When the first biological strike hit D.C. many people thought China was attacking the U.S. when it was weak; a covert plan it had been s
itting on for years, just waiting for the right moment. In retaliation, we sent our own nukes into the black sunrise. And if it wasn't enough that we were fighting our own citizens on the home front, our own blind stupidity brought the rest of the world down with us. What was left of our allies went to bat for us. The entire UK got wiped off the map in a day when Iran launched its nukes in support of China. Half of Australia and New Zealand were under water or burning. And two-thirds of the Middle East was obliterated from the face of the planet. At the end of the second Seven Years War, our numbers were a measly two billion. Worldwide.
As a last stand for humanity, the remaining eight nations formed a new alliance: SIND. Salvation in Night and Day. SIND was a branch of the new government created to prevent crime, restore order, and train people in survival. Who would have known that global warming would be what brought us all together at last?
At first, nothing improved and people fell back into old habits of blaming the government for their problems and began protesting. But SIND shut them up fast with the new wave of shipments from China. Food, water, and supplies were unloaded off of large Chinese container ships. Clothed and fed, the people became complacent. SIND enacted its second order of law and began its rebuilding efforts. With three-quarters of America destroyed or otherwise out of commission, SIND concentrated its efforts along the east coast. Enter Project SAIL.
And in 2106, eighteen years after the split in the atmosphere, the first of the eight floating blue pyramids was sent into orbit off the coast of New Jersey, and thus began what might very well be mankind's greatest and quite possibly final chapter. The race to the sky had begun. The only difference now was all eight surviving nations were working together instead of against each other to construct their own blue fortress in the sky. At least that's how it started.
≈ Chapter 15 ≈
I saw fireflies—thousands upon thousands of them, stretching to the horizon.
I was sitting on the porch rocking back and forth to the thrum of wind in my ears. My feet pushed exuberantly with excitement as the fireflies puffed their bellies all around me in the yard. With each inhale of oxygen the tiny nitric oxide induced mitochondria would spark a green flare illuminating their fragile bodies. Their cold light brightened the dark world with its bioluminescence. Science and Mother Nature truly had it right. With such a fragile environment, a firefly's body needed all the right elements to spark a green light. Without the combination of calcium, ATP, and luciferin in conjunction with its bioluminescent enzyme luciferase, this soft light would never exist. And if it burned as hot as a light bulb it would puff into ash with one simple ignition. And yet, here they were. All tens of thousands of them—Nature's imprint on the world. I was the one they had blessed with their delicate presence.
I stood and walked to the edge of the porch. The rocking chair continued its swooshing as I descended the stairs. The grass was soft, plump with fresh midnight dew. The green bellies sparkled their light on the droplets of moisture as my toes dug into the damp grass and etched closer to the trees where they congregated in a large green cloud.
I passed the shed on the left and a swarm of monarch butterflies the size of my palm suddenly swooped out of the bushes and propelled themselves into the brilliance unfolding before me. The gentle thrusts of their thin swings lifted them high above the treetops where they frolicked in the moonlight. I've never seen butterflies at night. Weren't they supposed to be asleep? I gazed high up into the tippy-tops of those towering oaks where the monarchs nested, resting and gaining their breath as their orange and black wings pulsated underneath the gentle gaze of the moon. Even the universe blinked its approval of the beauty below as trillions of tiny sparkling freckles flickered against the black expanse of unknown. Such infinity demanded mortal minds, such as mine, to take heed of its splendor. And believe me, I took my dose in full.
The limbs of the oaks cracked and screeched as the cool night breeze lent its caressing touch upon their bodies. They cracked and wobbled within her music in perfect harmony. The trees whispered their own glee as the breeze blew on through their looping ears. The bustle of the forest loomed like a florescent orb of mystery and awe. The fireflies seemed to ignite their bellies in unison and swarmed me. My hands were raised to the sky as I spun around, giggling and laughing. I could feel their mini feet on my skin. My hands and arms were bathed in their black bodies and now I sparkled in the darkness. I was one of them—one of millions of living organisms singing together without fear. In that moment, in a single breath, we were no longer different. All creatures of the same world, and this was our dance. Our time to shine.
They urged me towards the trees and I followed willingly. As I neared the forest's edge I saw that the ones on the lawn were only a handful compared to the deluge that flickered from every orifice of the forest floor. I eased into the fold of their flickering bellies and my skin shone bright green. The ground emitted a pale green luster and trailed off deeper into the woods as if the fireflies were paving a path for me with their light. I could not resist and went on, the fireflies as my torch. Had I not known it was night I would have believed I was in a brightly lit room. Their radiance was nearly palpable as my skin tickled with their flapping wings.
‘Where are you taking me?’ I heard myself asking, but the green stream only lit their bellies even brighter in response. I gazed behind me and could not see where the forest ended and where it began. The world was a dark shadow. Despite this, I felt peace among the fireflies. They were fragile creatures and could do no harm. I told myself this was why they were gracing me with their splendor—they could sense I was good too.
I made my way through the crisscrossing tree trunks, the path becoming jumbled and full of fallen branches and forest growth. The fireflies flew on as if nothing was in the way, melting right through the underbrush and thick foliage. I struggled to keep up as the forest continued to squeeze tighter and tighter. My chest started to burn and I could see puffs of white smoke emitting from my mouth as I strained for breath. I tried to see through the tops of the trees, but their overhanging branches were too dense and crept low to the ground. I felt as though I was trapped within a bubble, the air quickly dissipating with each step I took. The fireflies were fading too. I hadn't noticed until now, but there weren't as many.
I spun around to see if maybe I had walked past them, but only blackness welcomed me. With no other choice, I continued on. Soon the once luminescent path was dark again, and I repeatedly tripped over unseen roots. As I picked myself up off the dirt for the hundredth time, I could taste a bitter flavor in my mouth. Retracting my finger from my lips only revealed red blood.
Suddenly, the fireflies started flickering violently and swarmed me. I could feel their legs on my skin again, but this time they were itching and tearing at me. I screamed as more swooped in from the darkness of the forest as if they had been hiding in ambush.
I felt their probing as they clawed their way into my mouth and down my throat. I tried to scream, but only gasps came out as more and more of them assailed me. I fell to my knees flailing my arms in desperation. Pain ricocheted up my thighs as I landed in another uprooted foot of a towering oak. I grasped at the trees around me and ran blindly in the dark, low-hanging branches smacking me in the face. The bodies only increased as I ran and the darkness only grew darker. My chest was on fire and I looked down to see a green aura emitting through my skin. They were inside of me!
I fell to my knees for a second time. The pain was too much. I scratched at my face violently in fearful fury but the fireflies only buzzed on. My flailing brought more pain as my nails tore away pieces of skin. The radiance from within me intensified and the pain—kill me!
All at once I felt my chest collapse and a wave of fire sweep through me. My mouth opened to scream but only silence came out as my body fell. The green lights ceased, the swarm of insect legs and wings dissipated, and all that remained was darkness and the fire burning inside of me.
≈ Chapter 16 ≈
> I woke up with hands around my throat and my chest on fire.
Turns out they were my own and my entire shirt was an orange ball of flame. I started gasping immediately and rolled over on my side. Somehow my shirt had caught fire while I slept and the flames had spread to both arms and the creases of my pants. I batted my hands frantically to put it out, rolling from side to side. My lungs burned from the black smoke that had billowed up around me. I finally managed to put out the flames, but my chest was still sizzling. I quickly ripped off my outer garments and tossed them to the side. The fire had burned through all three layers of cloth, but miraculously had stopped there. Someone up there must have been looking out for me while I spelt. Or, blessed me with such a hideous nightmare that I had no choice but to awake before the fire burned through my skin.
I felt around my throat and coughed some more, the memory of all the fireflies swooping down my throat and into my chest still a prominent image in my mind. The dream still clung to my consciousness as my black fingers caressed my bare chest searching for burns, smearing the ashy smoke all along the skin. Not satisfied, I stripped everything off and stood there examining every available inch of my body. I could not afford to have one single darned firefly crawling under my clothes or any burns blistering and festering into hot sores. Infection was the last thing I needed right now.
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