Bernice Breaks a Wall

Bernice shivered and pulled her bearskin hood tight against her smooth head. Jack appeared in the doorway of the abandoned house they were plundering, “Found anything yet?”

Bernice shook her head, “This place has been turned over already. Just junk.” She moved farther away from the broken window and the damp air to take a closer look at an actual framed picture riddled with black and green spots hanging at an odd tilt on the wall like it was clinging there for life. A young woman with shoulder length red hair smiled through the mold.

“What’s that?” Jack lumbered over and Bernice took the picture down and handed it to her. “She looked nice.” He almost whispered as he touched his own bald head longingly.

“It looks like she wasted it and cut it short.” Bernice chided the photo, “You did not have a clue how lucky you were to have hair and you ruined it.” The Pox Wars ravaged the human population and only those on a wicked chemotherapy regimen survived. The poison made everyone hairless and most were sterile.

Looking up, Bernice saw there was a fist-sized hole in the wall where the picture had been. She kicked the wall startling Jack.

“What are you doing, Bern?” Jack was staring as Bernice pounded the wall with first the heel of her boot, and then her fist.

“Help me, get a rock or something,” She said. “That looked like a place to hide something important if you had to leave quickly and wanted to come back.” Bernice envisioned passwords for cryptocurrency and credit chips.

Jack had a hammer in his pack of course. He was always prepared for any situation Bern got into. “Here, let me, you are going to break anything in there.” He motioned with a flourish fit for royalty and impatient Bernice relented. As they cleared the debris from the wall in a much more gentle manner, drywall dust and shadows filled the room. It was getting late. With most of the drywall cracked under the hole, Jack went off to search the other rooms while Bernice cleared the wall.

The studs were exposed and as she wiped the chunks away she felt cloth. She uncovered a small black velvet bag covered in dust and grime.

“Now we’re talking,” she yelled out to Jack. “I wonder why they didn’t come back.”

“I think we can guess why they didn’t come back,” Jack said, walking up with two scavenged butcher knives and a wool blanket with an electric plug. He cut the cord off the blanket with one of the knives and wound it up like a rope. The wires inside would be no use now, but they might find a usable battery someday. Until then, they could use it to tie things up. The blanket and knives were good finds.

Most people did not survive the Pox Wars. Only 37% of humans were able to get the chemotherapy in time and 10% of those people did not survive the treatment. The governments of the world just could not cooperate and get the treatment out.

“Open it,” Jack said. Bernice had been staring at the dusty blob in her hand just wondering what it could be.

She knelt down, wiped her face with the back of her left hand where her eyebrows would have been, then poured the contents of the bag out onto the floor. Better safe than sorry. A soft metallic clink was heard and her lashless eyes narrowed.

It was a silver necklace, heart shaped, with a ruby stone in the center. It was large and heavy when she picked it up. “No currency,” Bernice said.

“It’s in the picture of the girl,” Jack remarked wondering. “Let me see it.”

He turned it over and felt with his fingers and noticed a hinge. “It opens, see.” He used his ragged thumb nail to pry open the heart-shaped locket. There was a rolled up paper inside.

Bernice took the paper and unrolled it and stared in amazement at the bright red hair braid found inside. This was worth more than currency. This was DNA with hair from before the mutations. This was their ticket out of scavenging.