Desolate

Silhouetted by the sun sinking below the horizon a figure stood atop a rise on I 84, few cars were abandoned on this stretch of the highway leaving the shadow of the figure to stretch far into the distance. Replacing her canteen, Ivy shrugged her backpack into a better position and continued on. The worn map she carried in her vest indicated a town was not far from where she estimated she was. Lost in thought as she spent much of her days, she once again ruminated about how she found herself here. Despite years of warnings. As the planet grew warmer. Drought led to desertification which led to relocation of millions. Competition for resources led to hoarding, and the building of fortified shelters. Predictably war broke amongst the allied countries of the world and yet another warning was not heeded. The deployment of nuclear options destroyed the precious resources they were meant to win. Now the scattered remains of humanity searched for bunkers and hoards in order to prolong survival. The silence from the woods to her right a grim declaration of the culmination of humanity. No birds sang no animals skipped from tree to tree the dead unearthly silence of nature a grim declaration of the folly of man.

With the setting sun darkness quickly descended. With a furtive glance around she turned into the trees, it was time to make shelter. Drawing her machete, she quickly cut two young maple trees, taking the leafy branches with her, she searched for a suitable area to conceal herself. Seeing a tree that had been toppled by a storm she headed towards the exposed root system, a dark circle of earth and roots highlighted by the last rays of light from the sun filtering through the canopy. Setting her cut maple down she used a nearby broken branch to begin digging a shallow depression where the tree once stood. Once a suitable sleeping area had been excavated, she began arranging the lengths of maple to form a dome over the niche she had created against the upturned root ball. The leafy camouflage woven with plants growing nearby, provided concealment from anything less than deliberate observation. Crawling into the space she had created she shifted uncomfortably until she found a position that felt acceptable. Closing her eyes, she knew sleep was a commodity she was not likely to enjoy, yet she must try.

Taking deep breaths, she repeated “Peace” on each inhale and “Release” with each smooth exhale she took. The well-used mantra cleared her mind, the measured breaths slowed her heart rate. Beginning to relax she began concentrating on her hair then to her scalp, to her crown and so forth performing a full body scan. Gently taking stock of the aches and pains of her day hiking had earned. Focusing her breath on the places she felt tension she gradually became more comfortable and drifted off.

Waking before the sun had begun to push its way into the undergrowth Ivy sat up slowly urging herself toward wakefulness. As she had grown accustomed, her dreams were plagued by endless searches and an urgency to hide. Feeling as if she didn’t sleep at all she sighed, knowing without luck her day ahead would provide the same drain on her energy stores and the same lackluster repeal tonight. As she began to ease aside a branch of maple the snapping of a stick nearby drew her attention. Head cocked and ears straining she heard a cough, though faint as if someone had clearly tried to stifle their exhale.

Frozen except for her hand which inched silently towards her machete. Barely daring to breathe, she continued to listen. Another stick snapped this time quickly followed by a muffled complaint clearly admonishing the offender for their clumsiness. Still as a statue Ivy stayed half sitting up. “Peace” “Release” she thought to herself. Once again keeping her breathing steady and focused. She waited what seemed like hours before finally stretching her sore limbs away from the contorted position she had held herself in. Her foot nudged a rock which fell from the edge of her makeshift bed with a dull thud. Freezing once more, listening for confirmation that she had indeed safely judged that it was safe to move, only silence returned. Taking the much-folded map from the pocket of her worn blue vest, if she had tracked her way west correctly, she believed she was almost ready to leave the highway. Deciding to make way towards a billboard she had seen nearby yesterday, to use the vantage point it offered to get a sense of where she was. Struggling to keep her attention on her surroundings her thoughts kept drifting. What I wouldn’t give for someone to talk too, she thought wryly as she thought about the last real conversation she had had, with a squirrel.

“If you didn’t know them before, you don’t want to know them now. “Her uncle had said many times. Following his advice had kept her safe and helped her survive for two? Three years? How long has it been since he passed, she wondered? How long since she had been alone.

Hard and lonely though it was this cautious way of life that had indeed kept her safe. Catching sight of the fence surrounding the large steel pillars supporting the billboard she snapped out of her thoughts and slowed to a stop in a stand of ferns Crouching she took a deep breath, she calmly listened and waited searching for any sign that she was not alone. Having observed diligence long enough she arose from her crouch. Coming up to the fence she immediately saw where someone had already cut a section providing easy access to the area. Approaching the steel rungs serving as a ladder she began to climb. Quickly reaching the platform at the base of the billboard she looked out over the tops of the trees. Little in the way of landmarks presented itself as she searched the distance side to side. A break in the sea of green in the direction she had been heading indicated buildings and likely a town. Moving towards the ladder she came face to face with a tattered image of a beautiful young lady who once wordlessly coaxed cars from the highway to a nearby gentlemen’s club.

Making her way back to the ground she set off towards what she hoped would be food and shelter for the night. Feeling more awake after her climb to higher ground she was much more alert as she made her way through the woods eventually approaching the back of what she believed was a gas station judging from the signs along the road. Once again stopping to crouch and listen amongst the brush. She withdrew her map once again with any luck she would sleep in safety tonight. Adjusting her back pack, and loosening her machete she stepped onto the pavement. Assessing the building's broken windows provided a clear sign that there was nothing left of value. Staying low she came alongside one of the many abandoned vehicles lining the road. Littered through the street like stones in a river, cars and trucks caused breaks in the creeping vegetation causing plants to bunch and flow around them. Lending the turbulent appearance of rapids as nature reclaimed a world that had once seemed so permanent.

Following the steadily increasing number of buildings she followed the road further into the community. Homes lined the street though in disrepair it would still be easy to pick which were most likely to be host to a bunker. Far down the street on the right she caught sight of what was once a magnificent Victorian home much of the intricate molding that previously decorated and accentuated its architecture now strewn about its once no doubt well-manicured lawn. As good a place as any to start, she thought. Making her way towards the house heavily obscured by long grasses and flowering bushes that had been left to grow unrestrained. Stopping beside a truck laying on its side likely having found its position during some panic fueled event as everyone realized that everything they knew was coming to an end. She sat and listened observing her surroundings, it was never a good idea to approach structures without first taking time to ensure that they were unoccupied. Deciding that it was safe she crossed into the yard using the tip of her machete to move aside underbrush alert of signs of life, animal or otherwise. Satisfied that she could rest and explore the area in relative safety she dropped her pack, keeping her machete firmly in her left hand she walked through the long grass of the yard. Coming upon a badly overgrown garden her clothing caught on the thorns of a rose bush as she tried to navigate her way past. Though it would be easier to cut her way through it was always best to leave as little trace of your presence as possible. On the other side of the rose hedge were a line of raised bed gardens filled with vegetables just as badly overgrown. Shaking her head at the tenaciousness of nature she thought about how this garden had to of reseeded itself season after season. Making a note to harvest food before she moved on, she continued to scan the overgrown gardens and surrounding yard for any indication of what she sought. Her gaze fell upon a small shed partially obscured by a stand of small trees that had sprung up. She made her way towards the shed as she came close to the trees, she saw an athletic shoe resting on the leaves. Looking closer she could see part of the sole of a second shoe barely visible from beneath the leaves. Peering into the underbrush she could make out clothing and as she pushed her way through the branches the morning light illuminated her discovery, what appeared to be a bright white polished stone reflected the light back to her. A skull. Knowing what she had found as she approached did not ease the jolt of anxiety and sadness she felt with this confirmation.

Entering the shed it was obvious that it had been ransacked. Tools were strewn across the floor, many of them broken. Empty packs and containers were piled next to the door, anything of use taken long ago. Taking in the contents of the shed with a cursory glance her attention was drawn immediately to the polished steel hatch on the floor in the center of the room. Scratched and dented the cause of the broken tools was apparent, they had been used to try and gain entry to the bunker below. Laughing to herself of the futility of such an act she began clearing debris from around the hatch looking intently for a control to unlock the hatch. Lifting a torn piece of canvas beside the hatch she uncovered a small indentation on the edge of the hatch shaped like a small heart. Running her fingers over the small two-inch depression in the metal she sat back to think.

Growing restless she decided to think while she laid the poor soul at the edge of the garden to rest. She grabbed a shovel with a broken handle and after deciding on a stretch of ground near to the remains, she began to dig a shallow grave. At a loss she accepted that it would be best to continue on when she was finished here.

When she was satisfied with her work, she started moving the bones and clothing to the hole. Lifting the skull, the glint of gold flashed and a heart shaped locket on a delicate chain fell to the ground. Stunned, she hurriedly placed the skull in its resting place and picked up the locket. Turning it over in her hand she noticed an inscription. Wiping away dirt she read. “Love is your salvation”.