reflections and memories

31 days and counting…

Last night I watched my first ever falling star.  It was beautiful yet transient, a fleeting orange flare that burned its way across the night sky, tearing through the darkness before disappearing over the horizon.  I can’t help wondering what it was, maybe a meteor or perhaps the death throes of an ancient satellite burning up in the violence of re-entry as it lost its long and futile struggle to resist the implacable pull of gravity.  I don’t know why but the thought saddened me, perhaps the romantic would-be archaeologist in me mourned the loss of one more relic of the pre-war world, of one more piece of proof that mankind could have been so much more if only we could control our urge to destroy each other.  I’m starting to realise how much we’ve lost as a people, not only in terms of the society we had before but in terms of what we are.  Life in the city is ordered, managed and controlled and the drive to innovate or explore has died.  We don’t question or push we just accept.  My little brother used to love watching Science fiction movies, starships and battles in distant galaxies, cars racing on neon circuits, humanoid robots living and working alongside people.  I used to watch him play, pretending to be a pilot, a driver, an inventor and  the innocence of it made me smile.  He used to keep me awake at night in our shared bedroom telling me how he would follow in the footsteps of the heroes of the past and travel to the moon, build a car and race it down the narrow streets of the city and I would nod and tell him I’d help him.  I knew of course that as he grew up his dreams would change, that the pressure of life in our underground home would mould his mind and personality in to one that suited the wishes of our rulers.

Although it looked to me like a shooting star, the cynic in me couldn’t help but wonder if it was actually a piece of long dead satellite burning up. I’m always saddened when I think about parts of the old world being destroyed or lost, I’m not sure why since all I’ve ever known my whole life is the old world in tatters, but I still find it sad when another piece of history is gone forever.  I guess it’s nostalgia I mean I know that before things weren’t perfect, they can’t have been for the war to happen in the first place but I believe that life was better for most people.  There were towns and cities, neighbourhoods instead of corridors, schools instead of repurposed storage space and places for children to play in the open instead of a ventilated hall with a metal ceiling.  Sure the playground in the city was nice, the ceiling was painted blue with clouds and everything and even the lights were hidden so it seemed like daylight but we all knew it wasn’t and we all, that’s the kids, wanted to know what playing outside would really feel like; how wind would feel on our face and how grass would feel on the soles of our bare feet.  I’ve seen movies where the children had to wear coats and scarves to play on the swings and slides but as a child all I needed was shorts and a blouse, it was never too hot or cold underground and we never had to worry about dirt or getting wet thanks to sponge mats and slick, plastic grass that was more likely to give you a friction burn than a grass stain.  I wanted to be the kids in those films, I wanted to feel snow on my skin, to need to take off a wet coat when I came in, be given a towel  by my mother and a hot drink.  Or at least I used to.  Honestly, I do wonder what I’d tell my 7 year old self about the reality of being up here, how it feels to get soaked and have to dry off by a fire shivering in the dark and hoping that the light doesn’t draw the attention of anything that’s likely to try and kill you.  Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t go back now and I wouldn’t fit in if I did but would I warn my young self of what was coming in the future?  Probably, maybe then I’d be better prepared.

The Storm

Week two, day three.

There was a thunder storm yesterday.  I’ve seen them in movies before so I knew what was happening but to see one for real, up close and virtually out in the open underneath the worst of it was one of the most breathtaking yet terrifying things I’ve ever experienced.  As someone who has never felt anything stronger than a sprinkler system on her bare skin or heard anything louder than a dog barking that wasn’t man-made I was totally unprepared for what I was about to experience and even though I heard the distant rumble of thunder long before I found myself in the eye of the storm I ignored it.  What I didn’t know was that it wasn’t  just one storm I was facing but two, approaching from different directions and on course to meet directly above me just as I had no way of knowing what it would be like to be outside when they crashed together.  By the time I did realise it was too late, the only shelter near enough to afford any protection from the steadily worsening elements was still a good few hundred metres away and the rain was quickly turning the ground in to a treacherous, muddy morass while the natural path I’d been following had become a stream of frothing ankle deep water that dragged at me as I struggled to make my way back to the shallow cave I’d slept in the previous night.  Cursing my own stupidity I tried harder, pushing my body as hard as I dared in my efforts to get out of the storm but as hard as I pushed, the wind pushed back harder and my progress slowed to little more than a crawl.  Forcing myself to keep going despite the agonising ache in my limbs and dancing black spots that clouded my vision I struggled on, managing to get more than half way before the gap between the thunder and lightning narrowed to less than five seconds and I knew I was out of time.  Dazed by the aural assault from the thunder and blinded by the electric blue flashes of lightning I stopped, standing dumbly in the open while the two storms inched ever closer like angry gods preparing to fight.

Unable to stop myself I looked up and despite the danger I found myself in what I saw was possibly one of the most impressive, unbelievable things I will ever see.   To my left the swollen clouds were covered by an almost constant strobe-like flash of actinic blue as sheet lighting danced across their undersides while to my right the air between the ground and the sky was torn by blast after blast of lightning sending peal after peal of ear-splitting thunder rolling across the open ground, so loud I could feel it like a physical blow on my chest that sent me reeling.  I sank to my knees in the mud, too stunned by the display of natural power to move and I honestly think I was ready to die.  It seemed inconceivable to me that anything should be able to survive in the face of such unbridled ferocity and I think I remember starting to laugh manically as the rain washed the over me, filing my eyes and running in rivulets down my neck and shoulders until my clothes were so wet there seemed little point in wearing them at all.

Suddenly something hard and cold slammed in to my cheek drawing blood.  The pain woke me from the strange trance-like state I’d drifted in to and in seconds I realised how stupid I’d been to let the storm overwhelm me.  Fighting the urge to panic I began to crawl towards the cave while around me balls of ice fell from the sky battering my body.  The ground grew more solid as the mud gave way to rock and though the ice lay in a thick blanket that sent me skidding to my knees more than once but despite this I virtually ran the last few metres, throwing myself gratefully through the entrance to the cave.  Inside, out of the wind and the hail I could watch as the two storms fought to a mutual death, neither giving ground as the two fronts battered each other relentlessly.  The ice balls grew in size until they were about as large as golf balls and I realised that another five minutes outside and I really would have died;  the sheer force they were falling with would have been enough to knock me out at the least leaving me to either freeze to death or drown.

I don’t know how long the storm lasted, all I know is I sat shivering, wishing I’d thought to gather dry wood for a fire to warm me while  I watched it die in a series of painful, violent convulsions that left scorch marks on the rocks near the cave and on the shattered trunks of several trees before it finally came to an end.  When the sky had mostly cleared and the wind had dropped to little more than stiff breeze I dared to venture out, surprised by how little the landscape had changed.  I’d expected it to be a blasted ruin, the grass washed away and the trees nothing more than skeletons but around me everything looked almost exactly as it had before the storms had hit.  I felt elated; amazed that despite being a little bruised I’d proved to be as resilient as the land I now called home.  Surviving the storm has given me yet another reason to believe that I have the right to hope that I have a future, that my exile won’t end in an inglorious premature death.  Maybe my confidence is misplaced but to me, every day I survive, every time I overcome something like the storm it gives me hopes and right now that’s what I need most. 

A small postscript

Added, day three, dusk.

I didn’t want to say earlier, it sounded a bit naïve and silly even to me but I’ve thought about it and decided I want to share this with you as well.  You’re reading my journal after all and since it contains my deepest fears and secrets I guess there’s no point hiding anything.  There is one other thing I’ve taken away from the village.  Though I don’t have any proof and can’t be sure, the fact I didn’t find much of use while searching the ruins tells me that at some point it must have been looted and picked over and though I’m not certain, I think it happened after the bombs had fallen.  If I’m right then maybe whoever those survivors were, wherever they’ve gone, their children might still be around somewhere and if that’s the case then maybe I can find them and if I can find them, then maybe I don’t have to spend the rest of my life alone.  Thinking about it gives me hope and a feeling of purpose beyond simply surviving.  I’ve decided once I deal with the immediate challenges I face I’m going to search for these people and join them.  And so what if this is naïve but you know what?  This is what I need right now, a sense of purpose, something to aim for.  However stubborn I am, I’ve realised that simply surviving won’t be enough, I need to have hope that somewhere I might find a place I can call home, somewhere I can belong.

Laura

Surviving that difficult first night

Week one, day two:  First night above.

It’s morning.  I didn’t sleep if I’m honest though I’m sure that’s not really a surprise.  I’d hoped to find somewhere to rest, a cave maybe, perhaps a building with most of its roof still on but after several hours walking I still hadn’t found anything substantial or enclosed.   I guess thinking about it, whoever built the city didn’t want to draw attention to it; after all it was supposed to be a shelter for the future so it would make sense for them to put it somewhere isolated, away from anything that might be a good target in a war.  I think maybe they did too good a job of hiding it and eventually, over time it got forgotten.  You see I’d been thinking about my conversation with the mayor, about his answer when I’d asked about other cities and it seemed obvious to me that there must be more.  I mean if ours was the only one, then what would have happened if the air conditioning had failed or the generators stopped working?  I couldn’t imagine that the politicians and generals from the past would take such a risk with the future of their people, especially since it was obvious even to me that the city represented a massive undertaking, a huge commitment of resources for a country about to enter a devastating war.  No, the more I thought about it, the more obvious it was that others must exist somewhere; waiting for a signal to tell them it was safe for their people to leave and take back the world they’d lost.  I found the thought strangely comforting though of course I didn’t dare go looking nor did I expect a warm welcome if I did find one.  If nothing else, the mayor convinced me that hoping for anything else was pointless; whatever the original intentions of those who built the underground world I’d grown up in, the cities were now the domain of small minded petty dictators determined to hold on to power at any cost.  I was almost glad to have left, almost.

Whatever my feelings for my former home, however confused and conflicted I felt about the circumstances under which I’d left, there was at least one thing I was clear about; staying near my former home would result in a slow, painful death either by dehydration or starvation if the mayor didn’t tire of me first and send out a guard to put me down like a sick animal.  With this in mind I spent the first day walking, making sure to keep the blocky, decaying buildings that camouflaged the city directly behind me at least until they were swallowed by the horizon.  I won’t repeat the troubles I had with the open space, if you’re reading this then you already know how hard being outside was for me and you can imagine how slow my progress was.  On day one of my exile I don’t think I managed to travel more than ten miles, a distance I was easily capable of running in an hour or so at home and regularly had on the treadmills of the public gyms.  By the time the sky had darkened and it was clear that night was on its way, I still hadn’t found somewhere to shelter.   Feeling exposed, vulnerable and desperate, my agoraphobia faded enough for me to be able to move a little quicker and following a wide avenue between the trees that later turned out to be a pre war road, I began to search more and more frantically for somewhere to hide from the approaching night.

The road petered out eventually, the roots of the trees having broken through the surface, making it hard to see where the road had been but not before I found myself standing in the ruins of what was once a village.  Not one building was complete and few had walls that still stood higher than my waist.  As far as shelter went, it didn’t offer much more than the trees had but at least it was man-made which helped a little even if it meant I had `to lie down on the floor and huddle against the sagging bricks.  I didn’t spend too long looking for somewhere to rest, I just followed one wall until it met another and wedged myself in to the corner.    With the sun gone the temperature started to fall and for the first time in my life I began to feel cold.  Belatedly I remembered the lighter I’d found in my pocket earlier in the day and cursed myself for not collecting wood to start a fire but it was too dark now and I didn’t want to risk hurting myself by climbing over uneven piles of bricks looking for something to burn.  Shivering, I pulled my knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around them, wishing I had something thicker and more substantial than the thin, fashionable jacket I was wearing to keep me warm.  It was beginning to dawn on me just how hard surviving would be I mean I hadn’t expected it to be easy but there were so many things I hadn’t thought about, things I’d taken for granted back home, things like keeping warm for example.  Living in an air-conditioned place like the city I’d never had to worry about getting cold, I could have spent most of my time walking about in my underwear and still been warm enough though I’m not sure I’d have enjoyed the kind of attention doing that would have got me. Now though, faced with a new environment that could change daily for all I knew, I realised that finding or making better clothes would have to be a priority if I wanted to survive more than a few days.  Then there was food and water, other things that had been readily available back home but now I’d have to find on my own.  I’d also need some kind of shelter preferably near both, have to learn how to make and use tools and weapons and teach myself how to hunt.

Something rattled a few feet away making me jump.  I listened, heart pounding, staring in to the darkness and heard the sound of something skittering across the rubble.  I didn’t manage to see what had made the noise but it reminded me that the surface was probably full of wild animals, some of which were more than likely dangerous.  I pulled out the knife I’d salvaged from the warehouse and inspected the blade, unsurprised to find it was blunt.  Thinking that a spear might be more use than the knife alone as a weapon, I decided I needed to find some kind of pole to use as a handle and something to sharpen it with.  Sighing, I put it back carefully in my belt, trying not to split the fragile plastic band with the metal and dropped my head back on to my arms.  Although whatever I’d heard had sounded small the knowledge that something was out there and that I couldn’t see it, wouldn’t see it if it decided to come and investigate the strange creature shivering in the dark left me unnerved and more unable to sleep than ever.  Fighting the waves of nausea that surged through me every time I looked up, I tried to peer in to the darkness to see what had made the noise but apart from a brief glimpse of something that looked like two pinpricks of light hovering in the air several feet away I didn’t see any signs of life.  Blinking, I looked again, not sure I’d really seen anything at all but whatever it was had gone.  Several times through the night I thought I saw it again but every time I turned my head or moved it disappeared leaving me with the unpleasant feeling I was being watched by something but whatever it was out there in the dark, it didn’t try to come any closer.

Alone, tired, hungry, cold, and terrified, I felt overwhelmed but as tempting as it was, I still couldn’t bring myself to give up.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m not particularly strong or brave but I am very stubborn or so my parents have always told me and the thought of the mayor and his smug lack of faith in my ability to survive annoyed me.  Even though I knew I’d probably never see him again, I felt the need to prove him wrong, to show that I, Laura was tougher, more resourceful than he believed, that this fragile girl from the uncelebrated middle levels of society could survive when everyone else had give up on her.  Maybe that sounds melodramatic, over the top but the truth is I did feel the odds were against me.  If he’d really thought I had a chance he’d have given me blankets, a coat, some rations, maybe even a good weapon but no, so sure was he I’d be dead in a few days he hadn’t bothered to risk wasting the resources he could so easily spare leaving me to scavenge and struggle for even the most basic things I needed to get by.  Knowing I’d been so easily dismissed by someone who’d never had to fight for anything in his life made me angry and even more determined.   

With a start I realised that it wasn’t quite as dark as it had been and that I could see shapes in the gloom, piles of rubble, the outlines of buildings against the sky and I realised that the night was nearly over and more importantly, I’d survived.  Sure I hadn’t slept or eaten and I felt like I’d never manage to be properly warm again but at least nothing was going to sneak up on me without me seeing it.  Even better, I found that my fear of the open had faded a little and while being outside was still making me feel extremely uncomfortable, at least I didn’t feel nearly as sick when I looked up or around.   I began to think that maybe my sense of optimism wasn’t quite so misplaced and that maybe I really could make it up here alone.  I didn’t move straight away, I waited for it to get light enough to explore the ruins better in the hope that something useful might still be lying around but I didn’t have much luck.  The only thing I took with me in the end was a knife sharpening stone from the remains of a building that seemed to have been some kind of shop once judging by the odd jumble of bits and pieces lying around inside.  How did I know what the stone was for?  I didn’t, it was a guess and one that I tested by running the block up and down the blade of my knife a few times then gently flicking the edge with my thumb. After nearly cutting myself I decided I was right and since I wasn’t keen to spend a second night in the same place, I left the village without looking back. 

Week One, Leaving without saying goodbye.

I’m not sure why I’m writing this, I mean it’s not as if anyone will ever read it is it?  All the people I know, my brother, my parents, even my friends think I’m dead or worse.  I can’t help wondering what they’d think if they knew the truth, that for making one small mistake, playing a stupid game of dares and taking the wrong air duct I’ve been banished, driven from my home under threat of death if I ever try to go back.  I’ve thought about it you know, trying to get back in to the city after all, what have I got to look forward to here?  Loneliness, starvation, being mauled by some wild animal maybe yet despite that, I can’t do it.  Sure being in the open terrifies me, it would terrify you too if all you’d ever known were concrete corridors with metal ceilings instead of open skies, strip-lights of bright white neon instead of sunlight but death? The thought of that scares me more.  I suppose if you’re reading this then maybe the city isn’t something you’re familiar with, maybe you’ve never been inside one, didn’t even know they existed until you found my pad and started reading.  That’s a strange thought you know, that my whole world until now could be secret, hidden away forgotten while above the world slowly recovered from the war.  I’m not sure I even believe that happened you know, I mean before today I accepted totally everything I learned in history, the great war, the bombs, the radiation, the poisoning of the earth until life on the surface was impossible  or at least so changed and mutated that us humans wouldn’t be able to survive.  That’s part of city life you know, accepting everything you’re told by anyone with any authority, parents, teachers, the security men, the mayor, maybe that’s why I didn’t ever feel like I fitted in.  I remember my mum telling me that ‘why’ would be the death of me, that I should be a good citizen like her and dad and make more effort to fit myself in to the slot I’d been assigned at birth.  That sounds wrong you know, it’s not like we were born with no choice at all as to what we could do when we reached adulthood, just that as a menial, someone born to the mid-levels of the city rather than the top or even heaven forbid the bottom I was expected to do two things, get married and have a child.  Beyond that it didn’t really matter, I could work in the school or the hospital, maybe clean if I didn’t have the aptitude or the social skills needed to butter up my betters, no one cared.  As long as I kept my head down, avoided annoying the security and played the role of good little wifey I’d be allowed to live a long and peaceful life.

I guess it sounds like I hated it there, being trapped under tones of concrete and bound by social conventions that stifled any creativity or original thought but the truth is I didn’t, it was home.  Sure I found it frustrating, who wouldn’t?  No one likes being told what to do all the time, what to wear, when to be somewhere or even who from a limited pool of candidates they could marry but at least I was safe.  I had friends, a family, even in my own limited way ambitions.  Sure I couldn’t help pushing boundaries, certainly  the security guys on our level knew me by name but I was always careful not to go too far just in case.  Like everyone else I believed the sermons about god punishing us for our wickedness (people that is, not me in particular) and the stories we were fed about the dead world above.  I gave thanks every evening that my family had a home where they were protected, where the monsters and poison couldn’t reach them and despite my childhood dreams of wandering the surface, exploring forgotten ruins and finding hidden treasures from the time before the bombs that would somehow magically make life in the cities better for everyone I never really wanted to leave, after all, why would I?    Would you? 

I guess the obvious question now is why?  How did I go from moderately good citizen to outcast?  Did I commit some act of treason so terrible the mayor was left with no choice but to cast me out for the good of the city as a whole?  Maybe I sabotaged the water or the power or even tampered with hospital supplies?  Honestly, I wish I had.  If I’d done something, bought harm to my friends and family I could understand why those who ruled our little enclosed world would chose such a fate for someone like me but the truth is I didn’t deserve it.  I haven’t hurt anyone, caused any damage or even said, written or otherwise expressed subversive ideals.  All I did was take a wrong turn in an air duct and open a hatch.  Now yes, I know we shouldn’t have been crawling around in the ducts, I mean I’m 19, old enough to know better but I was playing with my little brother who at only 8 really isn’t.  With mum in the hospital in the later stages of a wasting disease that even the best doctors we could afford couldn’t really treat and dad either working or by her side someone had to look after John and since I’d finished studying and had a few weeks before starting my first real job that someone was me.   You might have guessed that as far as entertainment went, not much existed for children, especially young ones and john was certainly not the only kid from our level to play hide and seek in the air con ducts, I’d played it myself when younger and knew quite a bit of the system, or at least I thought I did.  Although I wasn’t a child anymore, I’d stayed pretty small, only 5’4 though athletic tending towards stocky rather than skinny.  Either way I still fitted in the pipes and could follow my smaller, faster brother as he clambered along one of the main ducts before dropping in to a side shaft that led towards the system hub.  Determined not to lose sight of him and acutely aware of the consequences if I did, I pursued him until he managed to find a way in to one of the sub systems that vented air in to the heat exchangers near the outer walls of the city.  The pipe he disappeared in to was far too small for me but ran parallel to a slightly wider one which wasn’t.  I followed this new pipe, waiting for it to intersect with Johns’ but it didn’t, instead it ran arrow straight for longer than any other pipe I’d ever known.  Also, I could tell from the effort it was taking me to slide along that unlike most of the pipes which ran perfectly horizontal above the different levels of the city, this one sloped upwards.  It was only when I reached the end and found an access hatch I realised why.

Ok, a little helpful information about our system might be useful here.  Each floor has it’s own system of ducts running above and in the ceilings.  The air from one level doesn’t mix with the air from another until you reach the upright columns where it’s sent to the exchangers to be scrubbed and cleaned before being pumped back in to the system.  This is designed to prevent airborne disease spreading throughout the city and to make locking down each level in an emergency far easier.  Access to the uprights is strictly forbidden and no one ever tries to climb in or out of them.  The pipe I’d found was odd in that it seemed to run almost separate to the rest of the system, only linked to other pipes here and there by fist sized vents and these  were rare at best.  Stranger still, the air in the pipe seemed stale, hardly moving, odd given how large it was.  Eventually I found a hatch which rather than being on the side as was usually the case, was mounted on top and instead of allowing me to escape, lead to an upright which luckily had a ladder fixed to one side. Reluctantly, I climbed the ladder, sure that when I finally managed to get out I’d find myself somewhere on the top level of the city and most definitely in the worst trouble I could imagine getting in to.  In the end, I was half right.  Reaching the top of the pipe after a longer than expected climb on a ladder coated in rust and what looked like moss I reached a hatch sealed with a wheel and two heavy clamps that took all my strength to unclip.  Now I’m sure I know what you’re thinking.  I probably should have climbed back down the ladder, back along the pipe and got out before anyone caught me and yes, I probably should have but truthfully, I’d never seen a hatch like this one before and curiosity got the better of me. 

Pushing it open and backwards I climbed out of the shaft and found myself in what felt like the largest room I’d ever been in though it was too dark to make out any details.  The torch I carried only threw out a weak pencil beam, good for navigating narrow pipes, useless for lighting up large areas though it did mean I could see odd, shadowy shapes lurking in the gloom.  On one wall I could see pinpricks of lights, different coloured L.E.D’s that blinked rhythmically.  Leaving the hatch open, I made my way across towards them, tripping several times on snaking cables or unrecognisable piles of debris.  Eventually I reached the far wall but all I could see was a bank of dials and switches with broken glass and missing needles.  A couple of monitors towards one end still worked but all they displayed were lines of faint green text that made no sense. Although I didn’t know where I was, I had a feeling this room although connected to, wasn’t part of the city and that I was the first person to see it for quite some time.  For a moment, I was a little girl again, dreaming of excavating lost cities for treasure before it dawned on me that getting caught in here was obviously a really bad idea.  I tried to retrace my steps and find the hatch but I must have missed it and instead got lost in a maze of odd shaped vehicles, tanks, cars and lorries if I remember correctly from the few pre war movies I’d seen though judging from what I could see of them in the pale glow of my torch, these vehicles were never going to move again.  Each was missing tires or wheels and most had cracked and rusty paintwork, clear signs that no one had come to service or tend to them for quite some time.

Knowing that the hatch was in the floor, I reasoned that there must be a door somewhere that would lead to the city since this room was obviously some kind of depot or warehouse that had simply fallen out of use so I went back to wall with the lights on and followed it until I reached a corner.  Carefully, using my hands, I felt my way along, searching the shape of a doorframe or a change in texture that would signify some kind of exit but this wall was blank was almost featureless except for irregular shelves that felt soft and spongy to my touch.  Eventually, it was on the third wall that I found one and hesitating for only a moment, I pushed it open.   Honestly I’d been hoping for a corridor, or maybe an office, even another warehouse, this one lit and filled with hum of people working.   I’d certainly expected to be told off, shouted at by some irate foremen who would tell me I shouldn’t be there before dragging me along to the nearest security office for a severe telling off.  What I hadn’t expected was what I found.   The first thing I noticed was that it was old, probably built around the same time as the warehouse and not used for about as long I guessed, judging by the broken glass, faded walls and missing roof.  Yes, that’s right, the roof was missing and above me for the first time I saw Sky, real sky filled with clouds and sunlight.  It took a moment to register since the sky I’d always imagined above our safe, hive-like city was a burning red, lit by the flames of thousands of nuclear fires burning and polluting everything around them.  The regular hellfire and brimstone sermons shouted to us by red faced preachers every seventh day spoke of a world turned black as wickedness was scorched from its’ surface by a vengeful god while us lucky few were given sanctuary in the womb of the city (their words not mine!)  You can understand then why it was so hard for me to accept the evidence of my eyes, the truth that maybe once the world had burned but now it lived and instead of scorched and blasted rock I found myself looking at a field of green, unripe corn undulating in the gentle breeze while in the distance, trees reached for the horizon.

“Beautiful isn’t it?” a voice said quietly behind me.   I turned, stunned at the realisation I wasn't alone.  Smiling at my shock, the Mayor shook his head and sighed before fixing me with a look of sorrow and pity.

“How did you find me?” I asked

“The hatch you opened set off an alarm which in turn alerted my office that maintenance hatch had been disturbed, one that had no business being opened.  We sent a drone up with a camera and it followed you.  I found you stumbling in the dark quite amusing” he grinned.  I admit I found myself disliking him, a feeling fully justified now in my opinion. “At any rate once you found your way in to this building my staff and I felt we had to act lest you manage somehow to find your way back inside.”

“You shut the hatch on me didn't you?” I asked, angrily.  He nodded.

“Of course.  Though in fairness, you know the ventilation system is off limits for a reason” he added reasonably.  “Incidentally, the hatch you used is now sealed for good, no one else will follow you.”

“So what happens now?”

“Well I can’t very well have you come back in to the city and tell everyone the surface isn’t the blasted wasteland they believe it to be can I?”

“I won’t say anything” I promised, aware that the here guards with him had all drawn their guns.  I had a sinking feeling that what had started out as innocent exploration had become much more serious and it dawned on me that the mayor didn’t mean for me to leave the building alive.

“I know” he nodded.  “However I can hardly take the chance can I?  What do you think would happen if the people below decided they wanted to live on the surface?”

“Surely that’s their choice, their right” I replied.  The mayor just shook his head.

“In an ideal world yes but here’s the thing.  The city functions because the people are controlled; they believe that we, the ruling class are looking out for them.  They are happy that they have security, a place in the world and so the system works.  If they believe they can leave when they wish then everything would break down, we would have anarchy and besides, they don’t know how to survive on the surface do they?  They don’t have houses or factories, no food supply, how would they live?  Are you going to show them?  Do you know how?”

I shook my head.

“Of course you don’t, that’s my point.  Why let them leave when all they will find is suffering.  I don’t keep the city closed because it pleases me to do so but out of compassion for my people, out of the sense of duty I feel for their welfare.”

“What about my welfare?” I challenged him, nodding towards the weapons that pointed neither towards nor away from me.

“Well” he said, sucking air through his teeth thoughtfully.  “I can’t let you return yet I’m inclined to be merciful too.  I think in your case banishment is the best course of action.  It’s not necessary to kill you yet, not unless we catch you trying to sneak back in of course, you understand that surely?”

“So instead you’ll let me die out here?” I hissed.  “What about radiation, or animals?”

“What about them?  Truthfully, there are places where I wouldn't linger if you still want children or to live to old age but most of the land is now safe enough and as for animals, most of the more dangerous ones died out when the bombs went off.  Give up if you like or survive, the choice is yours.  We might watch you occasionally, maybe even send aid every now and then though I shouldn't count on it if I were you.

“So there really was a war?”

“Yes there was, that’s why the city was built.  To house and save the best and brightest of the time.”

“Are there more like it?” I asked, a plan forming.

“Perhaps, I’m not inclined to answer that though.  I don’t imagine if there were they’d appreciate subversive elements from outside upsetting the balance just as I don’t.” 

There was a sharpness to his tone and I sensed the conversation was coming to an end.

“You may take what you like from the warehouse, there may be some useful equipment in there though most of it is hundreds of years old.  My guards will stay with you tonight since the day is almost over and I wouldn't want to send you out totally unprepared in to the night.  That would be… uncivilised.”

“What about my family?”

“They will be told that you died in the vents trying to find your brother and that your body was burned in an upright flue that you accidentally fell in to while traversing a junction.  It will serve as a warning to other children to stay out of the ducts in future.”

He turned away, bored now and began to walk off.

“I’d get a good nights sleep” he called over his shoulder.  “I imagine tomorrow will prove exhausting.”

The guards for their part were courteous, polite and even allowed me to eat from their ration packs.  One told me they’d expected to have to spend several nights outside hunting for whatever had set the alarm off hence the extra equipment they carried.  One, Simon if I remember correctly even gave me his lighter, slipping it in to my back pocket as he escorted me inside for my final night above my former home.  I thought at the time he was just groping me and my last words to him were unnecessarily harsh.  I think he liked me and I wish now I’d offered to share my camp bed with him.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m not easy or anything but I don’t know when I’d going to get human company again let alone intimacy and it would be good to have a recent memory to stave off the loneliness. They led me back to the storage room and set up a camp bed with a battery light for me to sleep on.  Eventually I drifted off though the dreams I had were far from pleasant.

The next morning, I found the warehouse lights on and under the watchful gaze of the guards explored the contents thoroughly.  Almost everything was worn, rusted or rotted though I did find a knife that was still just about serviceable and a vacuum sealed box with a flask that would hold water.  Reluctantly, I gave the room one last glance and head high walked out through the door, refusing to look back at the three men regarding me with expression of pity and sadness. 

So now you know a bit about me and my past.  I won’t describe what I look like just yet, after all, I don’t know how long I’ll be up here, how many of these entries I’ll manage to write and besides, a little mystery is good right?  I’d like to think there will be many more, that I’m strong enough to survive up here on my own but the truth is being alone beneath an open sky scares me more than anything ever has.  Every time I look up I feel my head start to spin and the ground beneath my feet seems to sway.  I find myself looking for walls to lean on but there aren’t any.  I’ve tried leaning against a tree and willing the feeling to pass but it doesn’t work, the trees themselves seem to move and the sound of the wind in the leaves, rustling only makes it worse.  I know it shouldn’t, after all at least that’s a sound I know from movies and the audio drama’s my parents used to borrow for me from the central archive but the realness of  it all is too much, Before, if something scared me there was a pause button or even a stop but here, in the real world it’s all around me, open space, open sky and the quiet, oh god the quiet.  Unless you’ve grown up in a city with the constant drone of voices and the hum of overworked air con struggling to keep thousands of sweating, working people cool and breathing you can’t imagine how unsettling it can be to find that noise gone, replaced only by the faint sound of things in the bushes and branches above me and the rustling leaves.   The only good thing is that I haven’t actually thrown up yet despite feeling sick for most of the last few hours.  My body at least seems to want to hold on to what food I managed to eat which I guess is a plus since I don’t know when or what I’m going to be able to eat in the near future.  For all I know the stories of radiation could be true and I could be dying right now, the cells in my body failing but I don’t think so, I mean surely if just being outside could kill me there wouldn’t be so much life out here already?  I mean the trees don’t look unhealthy or strange, they look pretty much how I’ve always thought they would, brown trunks with green canopies like the parasols some of the more upmarket café’s used to have over their tables back home.  I never understood that you know; why they needed them underground.  I did ask once but the only answer I got was ‘tradition’.  I guess they meant back before the war when they needed them for people sitting outside. Damn, I’m thinking about the city again already, I’m going to have to stop myself doing that or I’ll drive myself nuts.

 At least it’s still light for now.  I mean it’s darker than when they made me leave but not actually dark.  I’m hoping I’ll find that easier, that it will make the world seem smaller but  I’m not holding my breath,  The truth is I remember the warehouse and the darkness in there I how scared that made me and I can’t imagine that being under the night sky will be any easier.  I’ll let you know.

Laura