 |
Prolouge -- Untitled
They were going to die. There was only one simple fact that they could rely on these days, and that was it. They were all going to die.
---
A tall man with jet black hair stood at the end of a long line, holding a small woman's hand and balancing an even smaller baby in the crook of his right arm. He was young, but the wrinkles on his face aged him and gave him a wise appearance, one that insinuated that he had seen more than he should have. The line inched forward and, with every step, the woman beside him clutched her coat pocket slightly tighter. If anyone were to find the small button jar of seeds in the deepest corners of her left pocket, she would surely not be allowed down the tunnels to safety. So, she continued to clutch the small jar until her knuckles went white, perhaps thinking that if she squeezed tightly enough, it would evaporate and turn into a less incriminating object. They waited patiently until the line was no more than ten people long. Once everyone else had been safely lowered down to the deep tunnels, they stepped forward. A sturdy iron ladder had been propped up and made a forty degree angle with the sides of the large hole. This large hole was really nothing more than a branch of the local sewer system that had been burrowed through and transformed to contain miles and miles of tunnels. They would inevitably lead to their safe haven, as their elected government called it. It was proposed that it would protect them from the nuclear blast that was surely coming. The non-believers continued their daily lives as they normally would, but the others knew that something was sure to happen and so they lowered themselves into the abyss, believing that the chance to live was well worth giving up the sunlight. Small earthquakes had been occurring since early morning and with every shake, the people in the line would look around nervously and glance forward as though willing the people in the front to pick up the pace. With a smile, the man passed the child to the woman and eased her down onto the ladder. Wrapping her fingers tightly around the top step, she climbed down until only her face was visible. The man bent down and kissed her lightly on the forehead before the largest shake yet rattled everything. Suddenly, buildings came tumbling down and a large wave of heavy pressure knocked the man to his knees. A look of anguish crossed his face when he realized what was going to happen and he whispered "I love you" to his wife before a loud roar overtook all other sound. There was another shake and then...silence. For thirty seconds or so after, the woman watched as the man lay face down on the ground, bleeding from a gaping wound on his forehead. She attempted to climb back up the ladder to get to her husband, but she was pushed back down by the guards at the top. She lost her grip and tumbled backwards as the darkness swallowed her whole, clutching her child to her chest. Had anyone been listening at the top of the hole, they would have heard the high pitched screams and cries of a month-old baby girl.
Her eyelids flickered and she opened her eyes minutes later, shutting them soon after as a blaring headache gripped her skull. Suddenly, light was flooding through her eyelids and she wrenched them open again only to find an older woman was shining a flashlight into her face.
"Look, lady, you don't have time to lollygag. Pick up the pace and let's get you down to the city before you do any more damage to yourself...or to anything else.” The old woman glanced around suspiciously and, in doing so, somehow lost her gentle features.
The woman had no time to process her words before being wrenched up from the ground. She blankly followed her savior through the tunnels until she reached what seemed to be a thick wall of shining aluminum. The old woman was tapping the wall slightly with her forefinger. After almost five minutes, the wall split apart, revealing a small room full of medical beds and injured people. It seemed other people had also toppled down the ladder earlier and sustained injuries. This room was designated as a small hospital. She looked around and tried not to meet the eyes of anyone in the room. Abruptly, a nurse approached and led her by the wrist to a small bed on the opposite side of the room.
"Miss Nace, you'll need to set your child down. Give her to one of the other nurses. She'll be well looked after. You have a few minor cuts that need to be tended to."
When she cried out in indignation, the nurse backed up a few steps and waiting for her fit to subside. Even with the nurse's soothing voice and soft features, Mrs. Nace was still shaken at the thought of letting go of her child. After everything she'd been through, the thought was practically unbearable. Once everything was back to semi-normality a few moments later, the nurse stepped forward again and gently pried the child from it's mother's arms. The little girl was whimpering slightly and sniffling; she sounded like it had a bad chest cold.
"What is her name, dear?"
"Her name?" Mrs. Nace blinked.
"Yes, what is her name?"
Mrs. Nace stared at the nurse, seeing through her.
"Aaralyn. Her name is Aaralyn."
---
"She needs the medication, there is no way around it. We only have enough for one week, though, so whether she lives or not is completely up to chance. If the antibiotics are effective, the pneumonia may clear up with only one week of antibiotics, but if not...you must be prepared to deal with the fact that Aaralyn might not make it."
Mrs. Nace let her gaze burrow into the nurse's eyes. This child; her child, was dying and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it, save give her some antibiotics that they weren't sure were even going to work. But there was a chance...there was always a chance.
She let her right hand roam to her child's back and began to rub gently. She was still arguing with herself over what to do. Mrs. Nace hunched over slightly and stared at her daughter's closed eyes, begging silently for an answer. She just needed someone to tell her what to do and to tell her that she was doing the right thing. As if she sensed her mother's stare, Aaralyn opened her eyes and stared back. The bright blue color seemed to give the woman a rush of adrenaline and Mrs. Nace finally spoke up.
"Give her the antibiotics. Now,” she said, “Please.”
The first dose was administered and the toddler fell back asleep, her tiny eyelids fluttering every now and then as she dreamed. Every day, Aaralyn and her mother made her way to the front of the small room near the entrance and received another dose of the medication and every day Mrs. Nace said another small prayer for her daughter. When the one week mark finally hit and the last dose was given, Mrs. Nace laid Aaralyn in her bed for what might be the last time.
Aaralyn's chest slowly got better over the next few days. Despite the lack of medication, she seemed to be healing well. A strong immune system was definitely helping, or so the doctors claimed.
Once Aaralyn's sickness was fully cured and they were both declared healthy, they received their IDs and were let into the city itself. Turning the ID cards over and over in her hands, Mrs. Nace eyed them with a sort of sad expression on her face. They were nothing more than thin, plastic cards with a line of twelve numbers dented in on the lower left corner. Mrs. Nace silently wondered what they were for, but she quickly cleared her mind. Dwelling on government affairs would do her no good.
They passed through a long, narrow tunnel lined with guards. Every so often, they would be stopped and, after flashing the IDs, Mrs. Nace and her child would be allowed to continue. After a good thirty minutes of fast-paced walking, the tunnel began to flood with artificial light. For a moment, Mrs. Nace was startled by the sudden burst, but her eyes slowly adjusted and she was stricken by the city that stood before her.
It was comprised of three triangular buildings, all made of what appeared to be glass. Around the buildings were smaller, more modest condominiums. Each building looked like it contained at least five hundred houses. The city had a clean, modern feeling to it, despite the fact that they were several hundred feet below the surface. There were many small concrete pathways winding around the city, allowing for easy access to housing and the large buildings in the center.
Two guards broke off from the group that had lined the tunnel and beckoned Mrs. Nace to follow. She did so, and was led to one of the many apartment-like buildings. They walked through the front door and into a roomy lobby. Mirrors were everywhere and the floor was a light oak hardwood. There was a clerk behind the counter reading a newspaper, but as soon as they walked in, he bounced up off of his seat and smiled widely.
"Well hello there, Stephanie. Been waiting for you, I have."
Mrs. Nace just smiled wearily.
"Are you here to claim your house?"
Once again, Mrs. Nace remained silent, choosing instead to nod her head and stare at her reflection in one of the farthest mirrors. She heard the clerk shuffle through a large stack of papers on his desk and could have sworn she heard him curse as a large cup of pens and pencils went toppling to the floor. Rather than stooping to put them away properly, he leaned over, picked up a large feather pen from the pile and walked to the front desk again.
" We don't have many left, I'm afraid. Most were taken a few hours ago. However, I believe we do have one more on the first floor. Oh, yes. Here we go!”
He held up a small paper card with a room number printed onto it in red ink.
“Would you like it?”
"It sounds marvelous. I'll take it.” Stephanie was too tired to say much else.
"As you wish, Mrs. Nace."
The man led the way down a narrow hallway to a thick, brown door. He thrust a key into the menacing-looking lock and the door swung open. It was a small apartment with only one bedroom, a small bathroom, and a kitchen of sorts off to the left. Mrs. Nace took a quick glance around the room, thanked the man from the lobby, dismissed the guard and hastily laid her bags on the bed.
Aaralyn was fussing and crying, upset that she hadn't yet been fed. Mrs. Nace glanced over, dug a cookie from the baby bag and let her begin to nibble on it before walking into the bathroom. Turning on the faucet, she began to draw the water for what promised to be a relaxing shower. The pounding of the water sent her brain into a sort of stupor. This was the start of their new life; their life without the souls of the people who didn't believe that anything could possibly be wrong with the way things were before.
|
 |
Community Member