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.
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