Journal Of Aber Crombie 3

CHAPTER THREE

We wake up earlier than usual today. The excitement of the adventure ahead of us I suppose. After realizing there was a garden tractor and cart in the green house, we estimate how far it could go on one fully charged battery. Uncertain of the actual distance, we are hopeful it will be enough to get there and back. And maybe even get there before sunset. I start to point out to Herbert that we should have used this mode of transportation all along on our daily walks. But then I think, we saw more details on foot, and it was good exercise. Beside, I enjoy our walks.

We load up our supplies in the cart, and we ride out in the 323 direction. As Herbert drives, we come up with all sorts of wild ideas about what the structure are, why they were deserted, or maybe they weren't deserted. It could be a mutant colony, or survivors of a war that don't know there is a universe of other people out there. We suspect it is something very mundane, but Herbert and I both love to make up stories about what could be. He seem to be more optimistic than mine.

We draw closer and closer to the buildings. Definitely buildings. You can make out windows. Probably 10 or so large buildings, fourteen or fifteen flights. Surrounded by lots of smaller ones. Three or four flights each. This is a city.

As we get closer, we can see streets between the buildings. Empty streets. There is no sign of movement. No transports hovering around.

We have stopped speculating. We have stopped talking all together. We just stare at the city as we get closer. The cracked earth edges right up to a street running along the perimeter of the buildings. We pull up to where the dirt ends, and Herbert stops the tractor. I don't ask why. We never talked about what to do when we got here. This world has been wide open space. We had both lived in cities before, but for 24 days now, we have seen nothing to block the horizon in any direction. Now suddenly we were about to enter what looked to us like a foreboding labyrinth of narrow passages between great stone and steel walls.

Herbert checks the battery status. Plenty to get us back even if we drive around. I check the time. Plenty of time to get back to the way station, maybe not before sunset, but not long after. It depends on how long we look around. We decide we will drive around the street for a bit first before we go into any of the buildings. Herbert makes some jokes about double parking and no one to jack the tractor while we go inside. I laugh, but my dark imagination was triggered by the one about someone stealing the tractor. We don't know that no one is here. I am going to make sure to lock the ignition before we leave site of the tractor.

The place definitely looks deserted. There are shop widows that look like the stores could still be open if not for the amount of dust and dirt that coated everything. This is not a place that was moved out of. It was left. As frozen in time as the stores look, there are no vehicles left on the street. You would think if it was a panicked departure, there would be some form of transports left here or there. But not a one. I suggest they left in a hurry. And all at once, Herbert adds.

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Herbert says we should map the streets. He hands me his tablet and says I should draw the map. He snaps pictures every time we get to an intersection. My compass has stopped working, perhaps due to the height and composition of the buildings. So Herbert lets me use his. There are no names marking the streets. So we name the ones running somewhat north and south with letters, starting at Alpha. For the ones running east and west we use numbers. The odd diagonal ones, a color. I draw in rectangles for the buildings. I want to think up clever names for them, but my brain is too busy absorbing all of this to be very creative. I just note the number of flights for each.

As we reach the center, the street leads to an open plein that looks like it should be filled with people walking around and sitting on benches admiring what must once have been fountains but are now silent parched statues. Across the plein from us is the tallest building we have see so far. Its width takes up three of the cities blocks. It is magnificent. Wide steps, a third of the building's width lead up to entry doorways three flights tall. This surely is the city center. We don't even have to ask each other if we should go in. Herbert pulls up to the bottom of the steps and turns off the tractor. As we get out, I reach over, lock the ignition, and pocket the key fob. Just to be safe. Herbert smiles, but says nothing.

We walk up the steps in silence. As we near the top, we see through the doorways. An enormous open space lit by windows five fights up the front wall. There are ornate stair cases in the center, leading up to suspended walkways connecting to a third flight balcony wrapping around the back wall and both side. Something about this silent majestic space feels deserving of reverence, almost sacred. We stand silently admiring it.

Beep.

What is that?

Beep.

Herbert pulls the microbe detector from his pocket. Microbes. No inhabitants remain. Just the microbes. The microbes that made them leave, my imagination screams. I ask Herbert if we are safe. If we should leave now. If the microbes are air born viruses or bacteria. All at once I ask him all of this. He just shakes his head. He says the device is not registering viruses or bacteria that would harm us. I say I am relieved, and glad we are safe. Herbert does not looked relieved. He looks at me, then around the building. He points out, he didn't say we were safe.

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