Empty Cities

by E. E. Isherwood

  A man and woman had been sitting on a bench seat, probably looking out the windows, when they disappeared. The man’s blue jeans and flannel shirt was exactly what Dad would have worn. The woman’s style wasn’t exactly like Mom’s, but it was close, especially the tacky purse with a picture of a poodle on it.

  She stepped around the bench like she was about to interrupt the couple’s view. They’d been holding hands. The man’s wedding band sat on the woman’s slacks, and a tasteful gold bracelet sat with it.

  Tabby lost herself in thoughts about her parents and what they had in common with the two lovebirds who were struck down on this bench. A small trickle of tears started at some point, but she was too tired to care.

  “Are you all right, Tabby?” Audrey asked kindly. Peter and Donovan came up behind the girl, as if they’d noticed Tabby was in trouble.

  “Yeah, we’re sorry for running ahead,” Peter added, sounding properly apologetic.

  She wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “These two have opened my eyes to a truth I’ve been avoiding since yesterday. They’ve given voice to a nagging suspicion that refused to let me go, and I’ve refused to even see. It has followed me every mile since we left Bonne Terre and it has finally caught up to me. Right here.” She pointed to the bench.

  Audrey held her hand. “What is it?”

  Tabby had been taught by optimists her whole life. Fall down? Get yourself back up. Bad grade on a test? Do better next time. Want the perfect career? Go out and learn how to do it. That optimism had carried her through and out the mine, away from Bonne Terre, across St. Louis, and for all the drive to Chicago.

  Now it was gone.

  The tour guide was never supposed to make the trip about themselves. She’d struggled to keep to that maxim, though the breaking point was upon her. Tabby’s emotional state was already fragile, and it fell apart as more tears ran free. She let out a lone gut-wrenching sob, steeling herself as best she could to say the words.

  “My parents are dead.”

  Then she exploded with a torrent of weeping.

  Her friends piled on top of her to offer comfort, but for the next several minutes, the tears were unstoppable.

  New York City, NY

  Ted waved like a madman as he watched Kyla go up in the Skyhawk. It was so impossible, he stood there dumbfounded until he remembered to wave at her.

  “Kyla!” he shouted into the wind.

  “Your niece?” Emily asked with surprise. “I thought you said—”

  “That helo is from the JFK, no doubt about it. They must be looking for survivors, though how she got on board I’ll never know.”

  Kyla saw him, of that he was certain. He assumed it was only a matter of time before she convinced the pilot to come back down and get them, so he was content to wait. However, men broke cover from the tree line across the empty field and took shots at the departing aircraft.

  “Oh, fuck no,” he declared. Ted got on a knee and lined up his shot, but he hesitated when he heard the arrival of powerful jet engines.

  He took his eyes off the men and looked to the north, deeper in the park. They were blocked a bit because of the trees between him and the planes, but he was almost certain they were two AV8-B Harriers.

  A few seconds later, as the hovering jets inched closer and the screaming engines became eardrum-splitting loud, he was certain of their make.

  “That’s the sound of freedom!” he yelled.

  The forest on the other side of the field exploded with extreme violence as the planes unleashed their rotary-cannon machine guns.

  Huge branches fell from trees between the planes and the enemy ground troops, as if the Harriers didn’t have a totally clear shot on them. However, most of the shells went the distance and threw up grass and dirt under the bad guys.

  A few men vaporized on impact. Others ran for a short distance or tried to hide behind the biggest trees they could find.

  The Harrier pilots nudged their planes from side to side, which created a wide swath of destruction. They also tilted up, which ripped apart the vans parked on the street, along with many windows on the front of Emily’s building.

  He grabbed Emily by the elbow. “We have to run for it!”

  “They’ll shoot us!” she replied with fear.

  The aircraft-mounted Gatling guns continued to wreak havoc, but he knew they didn’t have unlimited rounds. If he and the VP had any hope of getting away, it had to be now.

  “Come on!” he insisted.

  She followed reluctantly at first, but then with greater speed. When the planes finally stopped shooting, she ran as fast as he did.

  “We’re going east, that way.” He pointed through the woods to what he hoped was an unoccupied street.

  The Harrier II jets got even louder as they pushed off to gain altitude, and the engines only became tolerable as they switched from hover to cruise. He did his best to follow where they went, but it was impossible with all the tall buildings around.

  Miraculously, some of the enemy still shot their guns. He hoped they were going for the planes, not him and Emily. None of the bullets smacked the trees or dirt around them as they ran, so he figured they were in the clear.

  By the time they left the park and got back on pavement, he let go some of his tension. When they’d made it a couple of blocks farther into the city, he let Emily take a short break.

  “That was incredible,” she panted.

  He’d been thinking about the timely arrival of those jets, and there was only one conclusion he could make. “The Harriers were ours, and I don’t think they came from the JFK. Those are flown by Marines, not the Navy.”

  “They supported their own on the ground,” she replied.

  Ted still didn’t know how Kyla fit into it, but she certainly had powerful friends.

  He gave Emily an extra minute to catch her breath, but then got them moving again.

  “Where are we going now?” she asked.

  “East,” he replied. “We’ve got to get off Manhattan before they figure out we’re still alive. That will make it harder for them to find us.”

  He pointed where to go, then she took off jogging.

  A text message buzzed on his phone before he could follow.

  “Sorry. Hold up!”

  Air Above New York City, NY

  Kyla was pissed they wouldn’t go down and pick up Uncle Ted, but she understood a bit better when the two planes showed up and fired long strings of bullets into the woods where those bad men had been.

  She reveled in the destruction, because each dead asshole was one less who could hurt her uncle.

  Meechum and the pilot talked back and forth about routes out of the city, Predators in the air, and other air traffic, but she yanked out her phone rather than concern herself with all that.

  At first, she tried to take off the headphones and dial Uncle Ted’s number, but she knew immediately it was far too loud to talk. She put her ear covering back on, then tried to text his number.

  Uncle Ted. I saw you!

  He replied a few seconds later. I saw you, too. Why are you in city?

  Search for survivors. None found but you. Who is that woman with you?

  He took thirty seconds to reply. When he did, all it said was, OPSEC.

  She was positive it was the VP, but he couldn’t say it on their connection. Who was listening?

  Kyla looked out on the city now that they were high above and flying away. More of those hovering planes had attacked the Newark Airport, too. Smoke and fireballs rose across the waterway.

  We brought help, she typed. Where are you going? We can send copter back.

  Uncle Ted waited a long time, as if he had to think through each reply. OPSEC.

  “Fuck!” she cried out to the wind.

  “What is it?” Meechum said over the comms.

  “Oh, nothing. I’m texting my uncle. He was down there. We could have picked him up if we’d known he was there. Plus, I think he had the vice presiden
t with him.”

  Meechum cursed to herself. Kyla couldn’t understand the words.

  She typed in the phone again, more mindful of who might be listening. Speaking without saying the wrong thing was a lot like programming a device to behave in a certain way. I’m going back to the same place where you called me before. Bad there, but not hopeless. I’ll get those people to look for you.

  Thank you. I’m glad you’re OK. Your mom would be proud. I am.

  The Seahawk helicopter was already over the water. The city, and all the new pillars of smoke, fell behind her.

  Goodbye for now.

  CHAPTER 27

  Queens, NY

  “I never thought I’d say it,” Emily wheezed, “but I can’t run another step.”

  She and Ted had run out of Central Park and continued until they hit the East River. From there, they walked across the Queensboro Bridge, using the bottom deck to keep hidden from anything in the air. It was comforting to know allied planes were up there, but the enemies were still there as well.

  “I’ll keep it out of my report,” Ted joked. “Though I should inform you I’ve been keeping track of your fitness since we left my apartment. If your health isn’t up to it, I’m afraid I’ll have to recommend the job of president to someone else.”

  She forced laughter out of her tired lungs.

  The bottom deck of the bridge was four lanes, but it was split in half, so two lanes went east, and two went west. The two westbound lanes were bumper to bumper with what would have been the morning rush hour traffic in this part of the city.

  They walked in the emptier eastbound lanes.

  “I should have ordered that helicopter to come and get us.” Her tone was wistful, like she’d thought of the idea but knew it wouldn’t have been right.

  They’d talked about it when he had Kyla on the phone. It delayed some of his texts back to her as they debated how much information to share. Kyla asked about Emily’s identity in her texts, but, at the time, they’d both agreed it wasn’t safe to confirm it was her.

  He’d responded with the word OPSEC, knowing Kyla would understand, but ever since the exchange, it bothered him they’d communicated at all, because he’d made another mistake.

  “I should have lied and said I’d found a random survivor. By not answering, I gave an answer. To anyone listening, they’d want to know why I didn’t tell her.”

  She walked for a short time as if absorbing all the words. During the pause, he second-guessed himself even more. “I shouldn’t have responded to her at all. Now, they can use my niece to learn my identity. They’ll know I didn’t die back at Dulles. They might put two and two together and figure out the woman I’m with—the one I wouldn’t identify to my niece—is probably you.”

  “You did the best you could, Ted. I know it bothers you when you don’t get things perfect, but you should know by now, nothing gets done perfectly. We’re fumbling through this at the same time. There’s no manual. No one grading us. Not even your report can tell the real story.” She air-quoted the word report, which made them both crack up with stress-fueled laughter.

  “Well, we know more than we did this morning, that’s for sure. I would love to text all that to Kyla so she could bump it up the chain of command. If there are allied forces defying orders and coming back to the mainland, they need to know how the enemy has spread out its forces. How they’re taking over airports. How they’re using the ports.”

  “And how they’re killing anyone left alive. An activity I’m happy to say they’ve failed at several times today because of you.” She took his hand as they walked. “And thank you for being there inside my apartment. I didn’t know how much I needed to see him, and say good-bye, until I was up there.”

  That made him cast his eyes to the pavement. “I only wanted to keep you on familiar territory. I’m sorry for your loss, like I said.”

  “Cheer up,” she replied. “I’m the one who’s supposed to be sad, not you.”

  He laughed a bit, realizing she was right. Things were bad, but they were alive and on the move. It could be worse. The people in the nearby cars never had a chance to fight back. He did. Unlike millions of his countrymen, he’d seen a member of his family today.

  “Didn’t you say you have a house somewhere on Long Island?”

  She looked forward. “Yes. My husband’s family has a house in Montauk. We went there in summer to play golf and take tours of the Long Island Sound in their boat. It’s a snobby area, but I think I can get you in as my plus-one.” She squeezed his hand, then let go.

  “Remind me never to vote for you,” he joked.

  “Ah, I’m hurt. Right now, you are the only voter in the city, too. I could have really used it.” She smiled at him, then strode forward like she’d gotten some more energy.

  “Well, I can be persuaded, I guess. I’d need to know more about your plans for the future. Are you going to raise my taxes?”

  They came off the bridge to the sounds of drones, jets, and explosions.

  They were all behind them.

  Chicago, IL

  Tabby cried her eyes out for several minutes. All three kids gathered around to support her as she kneeled next to the couple on the bench. They all cried too, but she figured out they’d been grieving the whole time they’d been together. She’d whipped them through their parents’ houses to prove their parents were dead, even as she ignored the fate of her own.

  “I’ve been a real jerk,” she admitted when she finally calmed down enough to speak. “I should have been more sensitive when we were at your houses yesterday. I guess I overlooked all of it because it meant I had to take care of you. My biggest fear has been that I’d let one of you get hurt since your parents weren’t around to take you back.”

  Peter sniffled and laughed. “We wanted it to be true, Tabby. If your parents were alive somehow, then maybe ours were, too. Maybe what we saw back in our houses weren’t people after all, but just the clothes. Maybe the aliens took them to Canada or Mexico, and they’re all safe and snug.”

  “That’s not what happened.” She forced herself to speak the words. “All of our parents died in this disaster, whatever caused it. It wiped out whole cities. Maybe the whole country.”

  After giving each of them a friendly smile, she turned around and sat up against the bench so she had a view out the window. The rain clouds were still hanging around, and there were drips on the glass, but it wasn’t raining anymore. Lake Michigan was far below, at the edge of the foggy visibility.

  “We have to decide what we’re going to do next. We have no parents. No family. No authorities. We’re totally on our own.”

  Donovan replied right away. “As long as we don’t meet any of those drone people, or assholes like those sewer workers.”

  “Yeah, they were underground when it happened. Maybe there are other people who were underground and also survived the attack. People in other mines like the one we were in. Workers inside coal mines, maybe. Do oil drillers go underground?” She wasn’t sure who would be safe enough from whatever dropped out of the sky, but it was a place to start.

  “I would be fine if we never met anyone else,” Peter said, sounding a bit more upbeat. “I’ve got my girlfriend, a good friend, and one cool adult.” He grinned at Tabby.

  Audrey huffed. “That’s not fair to Tabby. Do you think she wants to spend the rest of her life with Donovan?” She leaned over to see him. “No offense, Donny. You’re a great guy, but she’s, like, ten years older than you.”

  “Uh, more like five,” she brushed back, before realizing it was a conversation she needed to nip in the bud, not engage. “We can’t go hide. There are other survivors out there. Sister Rose was a nice woman. There must be others like her. We have a whole country to explore.”

  Peter snapped his fingers. “What if we wanted to run the place? Who could stop us? We could make ourselves the kings and queens of Chicago. Take over the whole city and run it how we wanted. The first thing we should do
is empty the banks. We could create a literal pile of gold.”

  “Good use of the word literal,” Tabby said with encouragement.

  Donovan shook his head. “I’m not living in any city where you’re the king. I’ll rule another one, thank you.”

  Tabby got into it. “We could all have our own cities and do anything we wanted until we died of old age.”

  “Except meet people,” Audrey complained. “I would hate to live alone for the rest of my life, even if I was in charge of things. We have to find someone else. Some other survivors, like Tabby said.”

  Tabby took a deep breath, not sure what to do but resolved at the need to take charge again. “I vote we spend the night up here. There has to be food in this building. We can sleep on these benches. When tomorrow comes, we can decide which direction to go.”

  She stood up and went to the glass. How many people should have been down there in the city? Millions, for sure. She watched to see if there was any evidence of moving vehicles on the road, or planes in the sky, or even boats on the giant lake.

  Fires raged to the north, though they weren’t much more than orange smudges twinkling through the drizzly haze all around them.

  The city was empty.

  But she wondered if Chicago would soon see the same horse robots and floating drones they’d narrowly escaped in St. Louis. If that was the case, then they weren’t alone. The city wasn’t empty. And their future had never been as uncertain.

  A million worries clouded her vision, but exhaustion overpowered them all.

  “All right. It’s late. Let’s sleep on it. I’m sure we’ll have a new perspective in the morning.”

  CHAPTER 28

  USS John F. Kennedy

  “Clear a path!” Meechum shouted.

  Kyla felt important, though she had a hard time understanding why. When the helicopter landed on the deck of the carrier, the Marine said the captain needed to see her right away. Then she led Kyla up the ladder-wells until they made it to the bridge. Van Nuys was inside with a pair of binoculars aimed outside.