2136: A Post-Apocalyptic Novel

by Matthew Thrush

  ‘You could say something like that.’

  ‘You were moving a lot. Do you do that often?’

  ‘Not that I know of.’ Seeing as I’ve been living alone for the last six years, not counting the previous five I lived with Roxx in my parents’ absence, how would I know any different?

  ‘What were you dreaming about?’ he asked.

  He shifted in the seat to look at me.

  ‘What do you think?’ I said. The last thing I wanted to do was relive the nightmares. My heart was just now getting to a resting pace.

  ‘I see,’ he said.

  The sun’s rays were just starting to filter through the upper level of the bus. The stray light illuminated the inside of the bus all the way down to where we were sitting with a grey hue.

  ‘Any sign of our friend?’ I asked. I finally managed to blink away the memory of those golden eyes that had haunted me for the last three hours.

  ‘Not since we scared him off,’ he said. ‘He’s probably long gone by now. Wolves don’t tend to stick around by themselves for long. It’s probably best we get going soon though before he comes back with some of his buddies.’

  ‘You think it’s coming back?’

  He shrugged his shoulders.

  ‘That depends on how hungry he is,’ he said. ‘And judging by the way things have been lately, I’d say he’s pretty ravenous.’

  ‘Thanks for the vote of confidence. Now I really feel better.’

  He laughed.

  ‘If we are outside of his hunting radius, we’ll be fine, regardless of how hungry he may or may not be. But, either way, I’d recommend we get moving pretty soon. Best not to take any chances and ruin our luck.’

  ‘Agreed,’ I said. I felt my heart skip in my ribcage when I heard the bus squeak. I raised my pistol towards the front.

  ‘It’s okay,’ Parker said. ‘It’s just the wind pushing on the mirrors and the hood. Nothing to be worried about.’

  He squeezed his way by me and stuffed the flashlight and pistol back into his sack.

  ‘Here,’ he said, and tossed me mine.

  I snatched it out of the air and draped it over my left shoulder. I started climbing up the seats one by one. Every seat took me closer to the door, which placed me closer to harm’s way if the wolf had decided to camp outside our bus all night, waiting for the right time to pounce.

  If it were there, I wouldn’t know until it was too late. I hesitated when there were only two rows left to ascend. I heard Parker stop behind me, his pack smacking against one of the windows.

  ‘Everything all right?’ he asked from below me.

  ‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘Just need a second.’

  ‘Want me to go first?’ he said.

  ‘No! I just need a second,’ I snapped.

  Parker fidgeted below me.

  ‘Well, don’t take too long now, we need to get going or—’

  ‘I said I just needed a second!’ I stormed up the last few rows and turned the corner. I didn’t even hesitate before barreling down the stairs and jumping the six feet to the sand. I pulled my pistol from behind my back the moment my feet hit the ground.

  Parker landed next to me a second or two later.

  ‘That wasn’t so hard, now was it?’ he said with a chuckle. ‘I told you, nothing to be worried about.’

  I glared at him. I didn’t know what bothered me more, the fact he had pushed me to move, or the fact that he was right. I decided on both.

  ‘All right, let’s go,’ he said.

  I looped my right arm through the other strap dangling along my side and bumped the pack to the top of my back, tightening the strap around my waist.

  My legs burned from the sudden weight, but the pain was not as bad as the previous day. I guess my body was getting used to being beat down. My boots slid through the loose sand as we left the abandoned metropolitan commuter behind us. The wind kicked up sand as we walked on. I grabbed the extra piece of fabric from around my neck and wrapped it around my face to shield my skin from as much of the sand as possible. Parker did the same a few feet ahead of me.

  We both had gas masks that could do a better job, but with the sun beginning its ascent, it would be way too hot to walk ten more miles in the heat.

  I looked behind me and saw the stray outcropping of the bus jutting out of the sand. It looked like a tiny dot in the reddish brown world in the distance. Who knows, in a few months, the entire thing might be buried beneath the sand. I hated to admit to it, but Parker was right. We had had luck on our side so far. I shivered at the thought of what might have happened had we not found shelter from the radiation, and worse yet, if the wolf had come upon us lying out under the vast open universe. Thank goodness for luck. Best not to waste it.

  ≈ Chapter 32 ≈

  Exhaustion is a commodity of the persevered.

  We covered the last ten miles with relative ease, considering our circumstances and the terrain. A mile from the bus the sand shifted into hard dirt and paved roads. We followed the highway most of the way after that. The hardest part then was zigzagging through all of the wreckage and debris. When my wristband started beeping to signal the next radiation spike, we found cover in one of the hundreds of abandoned vehicles on the road. We lay in the shade of the 18-wheeler’s tow until the sun shifted past the rift in the ozone layer and the harmful rays were no longer at their peak.

  The radiation in the air didn’t much bother us any more. In the beginning, everyone struggled, but over the years our bodies had developed a small immunity to the higher amounts of radiation in the air. We could breathe it, and live it in when it was at a manageable level. The only problem came when the sun was pouring its unfiltered UV rays through the sky.

  As an extra precaution, Parker and I strapped our gas masks over our faces during the spikes while we waited them out. At mile eight, Parker took a sudden turn to the east, making his way through burned forests. Their lifeless bodies still stood erect, but nothing green grew on them. They were empty carcasses left to rot in the sun like the rest of us. I passed by one tree where the entire outer skin was charred blacker than ash. It had a small indentation on the side where the belly of the tree opened outward. The bark looked unscathed. I saw more evidence of possible future growth as we walked through this dead forest. Were the trees evolving too? If we had developed a tolerance to the radiation levels, to the heat, to the cold, then maybe the earth was finally metabolizing too. If small doses of radiation helped the body fight disease, and we had in fact mutated our own genes to such an extent that radiation levels were normal, then it would make sense that all living things would do the same.

  Other than my own tree experiment back in the fairgrounds, I had never seen any sign of life outside that makeshift greenhouse. I paused by another tree that had a similar indentation cutting from the ground all the way to the midpoint of its trunk. This tree also had an unmarked, unburned, and seemingly uncontaminated inner core. I knelt down and dug my fingers into the soil. The brittle dirt bit at my skin, sucking every bit of moisture. But then my nails found softer soil. A foot down and the soil turned from the reddish burnt color to a darker black. I kept digging until I reached two feet. The soil slid away with ease. I surprised to find how easily the dirt bent to my prying hands without a tool. Any soil I had tested over the years was dry and brittle; so compacted and compressed by the heat and the wind that to dig more than a foot or two would be extremely difficult without the aid of a shovel. And yet, here I was, at the base of one of the withered trees burned by the expanding radiance of a nuke in a city hundreds of miles away, and still the soil appeared new.

  The dryness in my hands suddenly filled with cold moisture. My hands paused in their excavation as excitement welled up inside.

  ‘Parker!’ I shouted through the black monoliths of tree bark and ash.

  Parker ran back to me. He had gone a hundred feet during my curiosity.

  ‘What is it?’ he asked.

  I looked up at him with a big smil
e on my face.

  ‘Come have a look,’ I said.

  Parker walked over and stood towering above me.

  ‘Come down here,’ I said. ‘You won’t be able to experience it from way up there.’

  He dropped his sack against one of the nearby black trees and scooted himself close to me on his knees.

  ‘Here,’ I said. ‘Put your hands in the soil.’

  ‘What am I looking for?’ he asked.

  ‘You’ll see,’ I said with a big grin on my face.

  He dove his gloved hands into the small hole at the base of the tree and rummaged around.

  ‘I don’t feel anything,’ he said.

  ‘Keep digging,’ I encouraged.

  ‘Willow, what am I looking—’

  He didn’t finish his question. His hands stopped moving and his eyes shot up at me.

  I was nodding my head emphatically.

  ‘Do you feel it?’ I asked.

  His lips parted lightly, his head tilted ever so slightly to the side, and his eyes rolled to the sky in concentration as if he were trying to discover what it was he was touching without the use of his eyes.

  ‘It’s…wet.’

  I squeaked. ‘I KNOW!’ I shouted with glee.

  ‘How is there moisture here?’ he asked.

  ‘I don’t know, but there must be a reason!’ I said. ‘Do you know where we are?’

  He felt round with his hands for a bit longer before pulling them back out.

  ‘I’ll have to check the map,’ he said.

  ‘Map?’

  ‘The one I showed you the first day I saw you…’

  ‘Oh, that map!’ I exclaimed. Who cares about a map, I thought. There’s moisture in the soil!

  Parker wiped his black soiled hands on his trousers and reached to his back pocket and pulled out the worn leather binding that contained his homemade map of the known world, as he called it.

  He traced his index finger along its surface then tapped the map.

  ‘We are somewhere around here,’ he said.

  I leaned over to have a look at where he was pointing.

  ‘Is that the coast?’ I asked.

  He had squiggly lines to the far side of the map that I assumed represented water, considering he told me it was of the east coast.

  ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘That’d be the Atlantic.’

  ‘So what does that mean?’ I asked.

  ‘It means we’re close.’

  He went to roll up the map, but I grabbed his hand.

  ‘Wait,’ I said. ‘Can I see the map?’

  He handed it to me.

  I unrolled it and traced my finger along the features he had scribbled in and asked, ‘You say we are about here?’

  He leaned over.

  ‘Yup, approximately.’

  ‘Do you know what this place is called?’

  ‘No, I don’t. I haven’t seen any distinguishable road signs either.’

  ‘Okay,’ I said. ‘Do you have a pen or something to write with?’

  He unclipped a black pen from his shirt pocket and handed it to me.

  I bit the top off and held it in my teeth while I added my own scribbles to the map.

  ‘What are you doing?’ he asked.

  ‘Naming it,’ I said.

  I tapped the map to ensure the spot was marked clearly with a solid black dot then replaced the cap.

  I handed the pen and map back to Parker.

  He examined the map for my additions.

  I saw a smile etch across his face when he saw what I had done.

  ‘I like it,’ he said. ‘Now we will never forget.’

  He rolled up the map, tied the string, and stuffed it in his back pocket.

  ‘We should make camp soon. It’ll be dark in a few hours,’ he said.

  I nodded my head.

  ‘Okay.’

  He stood up and placed his pack next to one of the tree stumps.

  ‘I’ll see if I can find something that’ll burn.’

  Parker walked off through the statues of black trees in search of firewood.

  I pulled my own pack close to me and unstrapped the cord. I reached my hands in and took out the military helmet. I set it near the base of the tree, and used the butt of the pistol to dig as deep as I could get in the soil. The dirt was clearly moist and rich with nutrients. I couldn’t understand it, but I didn’t care. It was a miracle. Luck was still on our side. Somehow, when the forests were burned by the nuke’s fallout, it had enriched the soil several feet below. I couldn’t explain why the soil was moist, but I assumed our close proximity to the sea might have something to do with it. That, or there was an underground aquifer or lake somewhere nearby that the trees’ roots extended into.

  I scooped out my tiny tree from Parker’s helmet and placed it into the hole. Somehow, the little green plant had survived the tortuous trek. Its resilience gave me hope. I poured the soil from the helmet in and used the black soil from the base of the tree to cover it up. I poked the two MOMs into the ground around the tiny green plant.

  ‘I told you I would take care of you,’ I said to the baby tree. ‘Mommy found you a new home. One where you’ll be able to grow into a tall, strong tree just like your parents before you. Don’t worry,’ I said, ‘you’ll be okay here. It’s safe.’

  I dug away some more dirt around the tree stump and jammed the helmet into the ground. I pushed it down and up against the opposing bark that acted as the doorway, and pushed dirt into the helmet and all around it until it was nearly completely covered. The top of the helmet stuck up out of the soil, but shielded the plant.

  I peered down into the new enclosure and smiled.

  ‘You’re going to change the world one day,’ I said. ‘You’re going to make everything better so we can all live like we used to; unafraid of the sun, and under the beautiful blue sky. That’s what you’re going to do, little one. You’re going to save us all.’

  The sand crunched behind me. I looked back to see Parker standing there with several pieces of bark and tree limbs in his hands.

  ‘You will,’ he said. ‘I believe it. And so did your parents.’

  I felt my face blush.

  ‘I was talking about the little tree,’ I said.

  ‘I know,’ Parker said, dropping the wood onto the ground. ‘But that little baby tree is alive because of you. And because of you, that baby tree will one day hopefully grow into a big tree, and then it’ll sprout new treelings, and then they’ll sprout more until this entire forest is booming with green like it used to.’

  I chest felt clogged with the pressure of that statement.

  ‘I hope,’ I said.

  As I looked back down at the baby tree, I found myself second-guessing its success. Would it really be able to survive? Just because the soil was moist and rich didn’t mean it would thrive. I looked around at the tombs of the other trees. None of them had any sign of new life. I could feel the weight of doubt pressing down on me; my head lowered to my chest subconsciously.

  Parker had his hand on my shoulder.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘It’ll be because it’s supposed to be. Keep your chin up. The world is about to be a new place because of you and that little tree of yours.’

  He smiled and tapped my shoulder twice and lifted his hand.

  ‘I’ll start a fire,’ he said.

  ‘Won’t the Pavers see us? You said we’re close to where they are.’

  ‘Maybe,’ he said. ‘But, if we don’t make a fire we’ll freeze to death. I’d rather take the risk of someone seeing us than not.’

  He snapped a twig on his knee and tossed the two pieces to the side and grabbed another.

  ‘Besides, the Pavers aren’t here. They’re out there.’ He pointed into the deepening darkness in the direction of the ocean.

  ‘You mean towards the coast?’ I asked.

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘I mean they aren’t on land.’

  ‘So they’re on the water?’

  I j
umped when he snapped another piece of wood. One of its splinters flew and hit me in the chest.

  ‘Yup. But, don’t worry. They’re a few miles off the shore. I doubt they’ll even be able to see our small fire from this distance. Plus,’ he added, ‘this dead forest will do well to shield us.’

  ‘Wouldn’t they have scouts along the coast? Wouldn’t there be a facility or at least a boat dock?’

  ‘Most likely,’ he said, and broke two more pieces of wood in half. He had a small pile building.

  ‘So wouldn’t they be able to see us and alert the others?’

  ‘Maybe, but don’t worry about that now. We could speculate all night and it wouldn’t do us any good. If they’re there, and they see us or if they’re not there and don’t see us, either way we can’t do anything about it now.’

  I guess he was right. I still didn’t like the idea of being so close to the Pavers and lighting a fire, but when I felt a cold breeze blow through the dead tree stumps, I shivered.

  ‘Let’s get that fire going,’ I said.

  He smiled and tossed me a stick.

  ≈ Chapter 33 ≈

  It took us an hour to get a fire started.

  Most of the wood was already too burnt to burn, but we eventually got a flame to catch. We sat huddled around the small fire for warmth. It was surprising just how much colder it got when night fell. Just like in a desert, I thought. Hot as hell by day, and cold as death by night.

  The fire popped as the air pockets ignited with the hot flames.

  ‘So what did you do before all of this?’ I asked.

  ‘What do you mean?’ he asked.

  ‘You know, before the wars. You seem to know a lot about surviving.’

  He chuckled and tossed another piece of wood into the fire.

  ‘You kind of have no choice in this world,’ he said. ‘Surviving is a necessity. If you don’t adapt you’re dead.’

  That’s true, I thought. Everyone who was alive was a survivor. We had to be in the environment we lived in. But something was tugging at the back of my mind. There was more to Parker than this simple façade he was playing.

  ‘Where did you learn how to track?’ I asked.

  ‘When I was a boy, my father used to take me hunting with him. He taught me how to track the wild animals that had survived the blasts. There weren’t many.’