Chapter 05 | No Certain Future

No sunlight yet painted the windows of the decrepit library that was now home. A thick layer of ash dusted the shelves and floor. It was not a particularly large library, but with the exception of soot, its selection had been largely unaffected. Except for the section of the library that had severed itself from the rest of the building. Ash still fell through the cavity in the ceiling—even after most of the fires had blazed through the flammable materials in the city. Perhaps the suburbs still burned. The dark before the dawn was an odd in-between weather with an eerie note of warmth. Strange for it to be so warm when clouds of ash had blocked the sun for days.

The few days since the earthquakes had been—at best—difficult. While the wolves hadn’t bothered her, she had only narrowly avoided several groups of raiders. It was becoming increasingly difficult to find edible foods. April had stuffed enough into her saddlebags to last her several months, if she rationed it out right; but was that long enough? She had given up on dying from natural causes long before the tremors—there had been little hope Earth wouldn’t be destroyed in some human-enabled environmental or nuclear disaster. Too much hung by a thread to expect to live as long as her parents’ generation—but in her wildest dreams, this was not one of the ways that the world might have ended.

Despite the hour, April remained under her blankets, turning the locket over in her hands. Her quest to find Chloe Parker had seen very little progress, but at least she had managed to avoided most of the raiders. Hopefully Chloe hadn’t become a raider. None of the people she had seen so far had resembled the other woman in the locket. At first, she had thought that the picture could help—but even if she could match the apartment building in the background to a still-standing building, chances were she’d be long gone by now.

It had now been two days since the raiders had found the apartment that she had been setting up as her home. She had managed to hide from them—barely. And by the sound of things, they planned to bring their entire party back there. She would have been ill-prepared to stand her ground, so she had moved on. Evicted, she had spent the previous day finding this library. Today, however, she could search for Chloe and more supplies.

Calmly, April removed the blanket from herself and carefully folded it in thirds before rolling it up. She had changed her clothing before she’d slept—a practice she was rapidly turning into a habit. It might be difficult to fall asleep in jeans and shoes, but she wanted to be ready to make a getaway at any point. After strapping the blanket to her backpack, and tucking the locket around her neck down her shirt, she dug around in her pack for her box of cereal. Though it was half empty, it could still provide at least a week’s more breakfasts, if she could continue to eat portions as small as she had been. Two handfuls were what she had been allowing herself each morning, but this morning—despite her growing hunger pains—she forced herself to be content with only one and a half. Slowing her consumption of the food might buy her a few more days. Every day counted to her.

She put the box back into her backpack, regretfully zipping the bag shut. Most of her items were carried in a canvas backpack she’d taken from a department store a few days ago. She still had Jason’s motorbike, and she used the saddlebags as storage, but having the bike was almost a problem. She was uncertain what she should do with it. She didn’t want to discard the memory, but moving with such a large and noisy object was difficult. For now, she’d just have to keep it in the library.

As soon as April had set up her bedding yesterday, April had been skimming survival books so that she could survive the bleak horrors of the apocalypse better. Several of the tips were helpful, though she seriously doubted many had ever really been tested. Still, she brushed her teeth with the vile-tasting salt and vinegar mix that had been listed in several of the books. It seemed to work, if not quite as well as regular toothpaste. She had exchanged her flimsy hair tie with a more rugged twine, keeping her hair tied back. The string might come in handy someday—according to the books—but it could remain out of thought until then. Once ready, she left the back storage room with a simple, “Stay safe,” to her brother’s bike. She had no way to lock the door behind her. The books told her to always lock up her possessions, but she didn’t have the library keys.

She didn’t enjoy this ashen overcast Times Square nearly as much as she had enjoyed coming into the city with her uncle. That was many years ago now. She hadn’t seen him for over a decade. He had also became a stranger after the accident. Despite the destruction, Times Square’s towering buildings and wide streets remained largely the same. The signs still flickered with the little remaining power in the city. Abandoned cars littered the streets. It had once been so much more. April coughed, putting a fist up to cover her mouth with the handkerchief she wore around her neck. The only nice thing about the ashen air was the diffusion it provided during sunrises and sunsets. Yet even beautiful arrays of muted purple and orange peeking from behind the would-be-clouds failed to offset the fact that the air was barely breathable. Breathing through a piece of fabric helped filter the air—at least a little.

Her eyes felt strained in the dim sunrise. The street was riddled by fallen building fragments and rubble. She did her best to walk closely to the buildings—another tip from the books—wondering where she’d go next. There were an overwhelming number of options, and the task seemed impossible. Chloe could be anywhere. And that meant that it almost didn’t matter where April started.

From her position, she surveyed the melting city. The allure it once held was now erased by the colossal level of destruction. She began to make her way towards one of the crumbling office buildings. She knew she would never find anyone if she didn’t start somewhere, but it was unlikely that these destroyed office buildings had any remaining inhabitants.

Regardless, she began to move toward the building that looked the least dangerous. From its roof, she would be able to see any movement in the streets below. Carefully, she stepped through a shattered window pane into a once elegant lobby. Driftwood that had once adorned the walls lay split on the artistic brickwork floor. The floor and its elegant rug were hardly damaged. The counter, however, lay in shambles. The granite counter-top had slid off of its fragile glass base. At least that was what she assumed was the source of all of the shattered glass on the floor. The metal stools the receptionists had once sat on had been thrown across the room, one of them even dangling from its leg in a dark blue cushioned seat in the lobby waiting area.

The air looked a little more clean under the protection of this building. April pulled the handkerchief down to her neck as she stepped over the rubble towards the clearly marked stairwell. Unpainted cement slabs spiraled upward, but once at the top, she realized that these stairs would lead only to the offices; not the roof itself. Viewing the city from a window would be far more limiting than if she could find her way to the roof. As she wandered the abandoned eerie chic halls on the top floor in search of a secret staircase, she began to wonder at the uncertainty of her future.

So far, she had yet to even see even the faintest sign of friendly human life. The fear of solitude began to fill her—and not for the first time. She was quite familiar with this sensation, and knew the road it pushed her down. When she had lost her mother and brother, this fear had settled upon her. When her father came home from business trips with increasing rarity, that same fear had settled upon her. It would lead her towards what it always led her towards—spontaneous shifts between depression and rage, and a constant crawling anxiety.

She forced herself to focus on the search for a way to the roof that didn’t involve an elevator. Her boots left ash footprints on the previously undusted patterned carpet. She looked into the rooms as she passed them, but they were all just offices. Then she saw something that might work. It was unsafe, but it was promising. A door to a room that she was passing had been shaken off its hinges, and on the other side of the office, a yellow crane had careened off a nearby building and smashed through the window.

Shattered glass crunched beneath her feet as she peered out at the crane’s other end. The way to the roof of the building that she had chosen might be opaque, but the path to the roof of this other building was just over that veritable bridge. With a great deal of trepidation, April gingerly reached out her right hand to the cold steel. With a quick but determined breath, she knew that this was the path to follow. She used her free hand to pull down her air mask, and pushed herself over the ledge.

The wind that whipped at her from this height was impressive, but pressing her body tightly against the construction device gave her enough protection. The truss itself was rather easy to crawl across, despite the frigid metal on her hands. She reassured herself that she was safe. The bridge didn’t shift once. She was more afraid of the wind ripping her hands off of the crane than she was of the bridge collapsing. Neither of those failures sounded good.

Slowly she edged her way across the top of the trussing, waiting and clinging whenever a large gust of wind ran across the trellis. When the air was still, she moved quickly. Her heart raced, but thankfully she wasn’t too afraid of heights—or at least she wasn’t terrified of them. There was a great amount of respect that she felt for height, but certainly no one could call her a coward. That was the moment that she spotted movement and the wind came to a momentary standstill. She watched as four men and one woman emerged from a subway entrance some couple hundred feet below her. Of course—the subway would make for perfect shelter. While she was too far away to make out much of what was being said, she could pick out the pieces.

One particularly large man—perhaps a body builder—was using his hands to count in conversation with a smaller man. The woman and a scrawny man were generally conversing about danger. There was clearly more, though they spoke a little too quietly to be heard. They split into two smaller groups, but it was at this moment that the structure she was on began to creak. Her grip slipped as the end of the crane that she had been crawling towards smashed through the roof and landed several floors below. She watched as the locket dangled upward. No, that must be downward. She oriented herself, realizing now that the structure had twisted in the fall. The larger man looked down toward her and she willed her body to be very still—motionless—invisible. The only movement was the slow creep of the chain trying to break free of her neck. If that fell off, she’d be seen and—quite likely—killed.

Then the woman and the man that the large man had been talking to headed towards the Square, and the rest moved in the exact opposite direction. A voice called to the large man, identifying him as Dane. He turned away from April, yet she remained as still as she could, only reaching out to take hold of the jewelry that had come within inches of betraying her. She heard a couple of wishes of luck as they parted. They seemed friendly, and perhaps there would be more survivors underground. She just had to get off of this crane before she could find her way there. She clung tightly to the truss, focusing on fighting her fear of not making it to the other side; only moving once she knew the other survivors were truly gone.

The rest of her trek across the second half of the bridge was slow. First, she climbed around the side—back to the top of the structure. Then she moved purposefully to the other end. As she was contemplating how exactly to climb off the death contraption, a hand reached for her from the inside of the room that the crane had careened into, but she couldn’t see who it belonged to. Despite not knowing if the hand would be friendly to her, she took it. It was her only real option. She wasn’t about to crawl back to where she’d begun. She took the woman’s hand and was carefully hoisted into the room.

The room was completely destroyed—if the initial shock of the apocalypse hadn’t done it, the base of the crane crushing the wall between this and the next room; dangling precariously out the windows had rendered the room a wrack. April felt a little guilty over it. The crane wouldn’t have fallen into the room if she hadn’t used it as a bridge. The stranger spoke quietly but with a hint of jest. “Well, I guess that’s certainly one way to get evicted.” Her voice was tired and shocked, but the corners of her mouth twisted upwards. April could only stare at her for a moment, trying to take in the simple fact that the woman was friendly enough that she didn’t feel a need to run away from her.

Straightening herself, April got a good look at the other woman. She was about half a foot the taller with long brown hair that had a natural wave. Looking at April with a friendly smile, the stranger brushed the gypsum from the drywall off the knees of her blue jeans. April murmured a simple, “Sorry,” before the woman’s friendly hazel eyes met April’s.

“Don’t worry about it.” She said dismissively, now brushing the dust from her pleated dark green tank top. “No harm done, not really. I’m Penny.” She said distractedly as she plucked the larger bits of wall off of herself. April found herself giving her name to the other woman before she continued. “I just got back to this city and this looked a safe place to spend the night while I figured out where to meet some people. I didn’t really expect that this room’s alarm clock was a giant piece of machinery careening through the wall. Not really going to leave a great review of this place. Oh well—their loss, I guess.” Then she looked at April.

It was all April could do to not laugh at Penny’s bubbly mirth. Here—in the destroyed hotel room; in the middle of a broken world—she seemed genuinely happy; maybe even giddy. It was inspiring. “Glad to meet you,” April said when Penny didn’t say anything more. “Are you here to find a specific person?” Then a second question that felt more pressing came to her and she asked, “From where? I know the suburbs are destroyed too, but how far out does this destruction go?”

“I just arrived from Chicago last night,” then after a moment added, “Oh—but I grew up here. I’m here to look for my family. What about you? You have family in town?” Penny spoke quickly, but the most striking thing to April was how friendly she was. Given how many raiders had shot at her recently, she hadn’t really anticipated to find another friendly soul. The change was relaxing—but she didn’t fully trust it yet. April shook her head at the question.

“No. No, I’m the last one of my family. Or might as well be. My dad’s in some other country, but I haven’t seen him in over a year.” Penny’s smile cracked at April’s cold, emotionless words. “I’m not too phased by it.” April added with a curt shrug.

“Well,” Penny said slowly, “I’m still sorry for your loss.” April felt a little uncomfortable. The constant loss was sad to her, but she knew there was no reason to be remorseful. Life was what it was. And there were far more pressing issues for her to deal with. In a way, not worrying about other family members was almost freeing. “You’re welcome to hang out with me for a while. I’m sure it’s better to look for other survivors with a partner.” Her smile was once again wide across her face.

“Actually,” April began. “I think I know exactly where to look—but I want to go and collect my things first.” Penny looked reservedly eager.

“I can help you with that!” She said, slinging a worn canvas backpack over her shoulder and grabbing a single barrel shotgun. The weaponry was startling when juxtaposed with the buoyant disposition of the woman, but as April checked the knife at her belt—well, she understood the need.

The two of them began their trek back to the library, April leading the other woman in direction, but following in diction. Penny still hadn’t answered the most pressing question. “Chicago,” Penny was saying as the pair walked down the stairs of this elaborate hotel, “Chicago is destroyed too. I think it’s the whole country. Maybe even the world.” She was somber. “So I came to the city of my childhood. That’s who I’m looking for—my family. I think they still live here. I was so busy writing that I fell out of touch with them, but that’s just the way family goes sometimes, I guess. You just don’t know where those you should be close with are.”

The railing of the stairs was bent steel plated in what looked to be gold and tapered into feathers on the ends. April felt as though they were too valuable to touch, but used them anyway. Such currency was a luxury of the past now. “What sort of writing did you do?” April herself had always dreamed of being a published author one day—to have her name on a shelf in a library that some future stranger could choose at random to read the words that she had written: that was a true legacy. That was about as certain a future as could be achieved. Now, however, looking at the burnt carpet stairs, she wondered if anyone would ever be able to afford the luxury of being a novelist again.

“Newspaper work, mostly. Most of my work was to fill in the text around the interviews.” She smiled briefly in memory of an easier life.

After a brief pause in dialogue, April thought of her next question. “What was Chicago like?” In truth—and partly because of how often her father got to travel—she wanted to see places other than New York City. She supposed that she could now—except that she needed to see the locket made it to Chloe first. And she’d never see a city in its glory.

After taking a moment, Penny replied. “A lot was the same as here. Different people, different buildings, different layout—but a city’s a city. There was always interesting news, and people were always doing fun things.” April furrowed her brow. That had not really been the answer that she had anticipated, but that was—of course—the reason to ask. “Have you ever been outside New York?” Penny asked April as they reached the excessively gaudy lobby.

A chandelier had smashed into the floor beneath a series of ornate windowed balconies overlooking the reception area. There was no doubt that the room would have been spectacular had it not been engulfed by a large split in the ground that spanned and spiked out from the door to the counter. “No.” April said simply—recalling with a longing the travel shows she used to watch with Nicole. “No,” she repeated followed by a sigh, “but I’d love to see the world. Or at least what’s left of it.”

“It’s all much the same as what can be found here. It’s all a husk of what it once was. That drive used to be one of my favorites in the world—now it’s all just ash and dark waters.” April felt sorry for how much Penny had lost—it wasn’t anything more than what anyone else had lost, but it certainly affected her on a deeper level than April had originally assumed.

“But you made it back!” April said, trying to lighten the mood, even a little. Penny smiled and nodded. The pair was now outside, attempting to be more quiet. Attracting too much attention wouldn’t result in anything good.

“I did.” The other woman said with tinges of sobriety. “And now I get to find out if I’m the last of my family.” April frowned as she momentarily glanced to Penny. They both knew the feeling of having no remaining family. To have no kin was… Well, April hadn’t been able to sift through her feelings over it. Not a great feeling, at the very least.

“It’s scary,” she finally responded equally as quietly, “to be alone in this world.” The pair was quiet for a moment. It was difficult after so much time to have a conversation with a stranger, even if she were going through a similar series of events.

“I’m sorry you’ve lost so many in your life.” Penny said in response after a few hundred feet. April shrugged in response.

“Many were so long ago that I can barely even remember much more than their names.” It was a lie that she told others who felt pity for her. She had said it so many times that those words had become a meaningless numbness as they slid from her tongue. She had cherished memories with everyone that she had lost. She had memories of her mother tucking her in at night, and of her brother teaching her how to ride and care for his motorcycle. She had memories of Nicole comforting her. She held these memories close but refused to cry over them. The people were gone—but their ghosts could exist in her memory forever.

Penny smiled faintly. “The greatest people are now just the names they left behind.” She glanced to April, but April kept her eyes forward, occasionally scanning the rooftops for potential threats. “You’re very mature for your age.” April ignored that last comment—she heard it far too much but didn’t really understand why.

“Hopefully we can find your family,” April changed the focus to Penny. She had been interrogated long enough. And she didn’t want to dwell on sadness.

Penny nodded. “Well, both of my parents both passed away years ago, but I think my brother still lives here.” She said, only continuing after April shot her a quizzical glance. “We fell out of touch when—” she caught herself, “well, a decade ago now. Not a moment goes by that I don’t regret not trying harder to keep him in my life. But such is life, I suppose.” She ended with a melancholy tone that felt appropriate. April was about to mention how even in his death, she felt as though she hadn’t fallen out of touch with Jason—but beyond thinking it a selfish comment, Penny asked another question. It was difficult to get to know her with how many questions were being asked. “What about you? What’s driving you?”

April was very quiet for a moment, trying to decide how to answer the question. She could talk about the locket—and perhaps why not? But something kept her from that simple answer—a feeling that she couldn’t quite explain that told her to keep it a secret for as long as possible. “Just surviving for now, I guess,” she finally answered, “Haven’t found my future yet.”

They were now back to the library. April supposed that she should probably explain her motorbike to Penny—but there were parts of her life she wanted to keep secretive for now. Not that she wanted to keep secrets, but there was certainly a time for that. For now, she had to find her way to the subway. Not much was be certain about the future any longer, but there was strength—and opportunities—in numbers. And that was a certain future.