Diary of an "Immortelle"

“There are only so many days I can afford to lie down,” I silently tell myself as I close my eyes and take a relieving sigh. It took me almost a month to find this barrack, and I’ve been horizontal on this creaky, metal bed for the majority of the days I’ve hid here. What a treat it’s been, to be so exhausted that I finally got some sleep. A familiar lethargy is starting to creep into my muscles from fasting. As I think about the energy it will require to reach for the rations in my bag, I return to the slow rhythm of my breath, hoping it will help alleviate the throbbing feeling in my head from the heat. I gently glide my fingertips across my chest in a slow side to side motion to soothe myself. My fingers eventually meet the curved sides of the gold, heart-shaped locket hanging from my neck. My father gifted this locket to me when I was a little girl. Every time I feel the gentle weight of it in my hands, I remember him. My eyes begin to well with tears as I anchor myself in the memory of what was. I miss my family. Everything changed so fast.

This grief isn’t safe, not right now. It can take me down and I won’t get to where I need to go. I’ve already given it too much time. The sun is setting and the air is starting to cool, which means it’s time to pack up and venture back out into the unknown. I roll to my side when the pounding in my head comes back, “Ouch...” I whisper as I sit up and reach for my backpack. As the mouth of my hydration pack hits my lips, the nourishing sips of water start to replenish my being. My backpack is lighter now, which reminds me to stop drinking. I was lucky enough to find some chocolate hidden in the barrack. I’d like to think someone left it behind for those that would follow. To me, it’s a sign that I’m getting close. Closer to the underground city Michael told me about. The city with water.

This myth held so much promise, I risked everything to walk by myself into this wasteland between worlds to find it. I’m not sure exactly where I am... but maybe someone was close, maybe that’s why they left the chocolate.

After eating a few squares, my body began to wake up again. It’s dusk and I should leave the barrack before I’m tempted to stay another night. I get my hat, tie up my boots, grab my gun and walk towards the door. With each step, the wooden planks of the floor squeak underneath my feet. Each sound reminds me of the newfound safety I’m leaving. I slowly open the door when I hear a loud screech, “Damnit...” I whisper in fear. It’s hard to know what or who is outside. I’m trembling as I look through the opening, tempted to shut the door and hide. The sound of the wind plays tricks on me, but I tell myself it’s too hot to walk during the day. I just don’t have enough water.

My heart is pounding, but the desert is clear, so I do what I can to gather my confidence and walk out of the barrack. I’ve been alone for a while now. I can’t tell if God has graced me with the gift of continued life, or if I’m condemned to a certain hell for surviving. The sound of gravel beneath my boots is somewhat comforting as I embark on my journey underneath the night sky. Luckily, there is no smoke here. The mountains are hard to see, but I can find my way following the stars.

This area of California was mostly barren before the fire tornadoes consumed everything. In the last years I spent in my hometown, we were steeped in the looming grey presence of fire clouds. Ashes from burned forests and homes continuously fell from orange skies like a slow rain. That’s when my family got really sick. We didn’t have much left after the depression and were living in one of the few remaining neighborhoods in the area. The fourth variant of the recent virus touched our community, and government water vouchers became increasingly limited for each family.

I was an anomaly, because I was immune to the twelve viruses that devastated the world after 2019. There was a very small percentage of us that they referred to as “immortelles”. They didn’t know whether or not it had something to do with the cocktail of vaccines we ingested, but there was a chemical response in our bodies that kept us alive with little to no side effects. That wasn’t the case for most. We were being monitored by “science”. Once a month they would run tests on me in exchange for water vouchers, food rations, electricity and medicine for my elderly parents. This exchange helped keep us alive. Eventually, they gave me an ultimatum: leave my family to dedicate my life to a cure, or the resources they were giving our household would stop. They promised they’d move my family to where I was in a few weeks. However, after two months, a nauseating feeling in my gut told me they were never coming. I oscillated between debilitating depression and infuriating rage. We could have prevented this all from happening when we had time. We didn’t have to lose everything. I... didn’t have to lose everything.

A year passed and throughout my time imprisoned at the lab, I developed a romantic relationship with the guard who was watching me. We were both orphans of circumstance and found comfort in each other’s arms when the lights were out. Michael held me on days when the tests were strong and times when I felt unsoothable. He reminded me of my family’s presence which sat at the center of my chest, gently guarded by the locket hanging from my neck. That’s when Michael told me about the underground city with water. He had a map that one of the other guards gave to him before she disappeared. We spent nights dreaming of this city… What did it look like? Who was there?

“Do you think there’s trees?” I inquired one evening, as my finger slowly sketched an outline of one on his back.

He turned around, looked into my eyes and responded, “Why don’t we find out?”

Michael had already prepared backpacks with rations for the both of us. There was a small window of time where he could sneak me out of the lab. We were almost out the gate when they found us. He tried to protect me by shooting at the patrol officers. They fired back, shooting him in the leg causing him to fall to the ground. I tried to help him, but he forcefully shoved the map into my hands with a gun, and yelled at me to keep running.

It’s difficult to not let these memories consume me, but here I am... Walking alone in the desert, with the company of my locket, and a stranger’s chocolate most likely melting in my backpack. The fantasy of salvation was ahead of me. Yet, I wasn't sure if I’d make it. The barrack was a welcoming reprieve, but it felt like solitary confinement. It wasn’t my place to surrender to. It’s better to keep walking, to stay focused on a destination, something other than the ocean of pain in my heart. As I marched forward, I would sometimes close my eyes and imagine I was under a canopy of trees, similar to the ones near the creek I knew before it dried out. I used to hike along the water, jumping from boulder to boulder, accompanied by the orchestra of nature which resided there. I recalled the shimmering color of the hummingbirds and the orange butterflies I’d meet. Those times were so magical, I wish I didn’t take them for granted. The problems that kept my mind busy at the creek seemed so ridiculous now. Our priorities, what our culture valued, were so incredibly misguided.

It was still dark when I began to feel the heat creeping in before dawn. My skin has been dry for weeks now and my lips were cracking from the lack of hydration. No matter how immune I was to viruses, I still needed water. I’m not invincible, I’m human… My mouth was parched and I stopped to reach into my bag for my water pack. I tried sucking the water through, but only a little came out. I panicked and unzipped my bag, looking for the other hydration bladder. I pulled it out and reluctantly stared at the sixteen ounces left to sustain me. I opened it, drank half, then took a square of the nearly melted chocolate with hopes it would substitute my ongoing thirst.

The chocolate helped me move forward into the bittersweet beauty of the sunrise. I tried keeping the light weight jacket that was protecting my arms on, but I didn’t want to sweat. I barely had any water left and I needed to retain as much of it within myself as I could. I pulled out the map, thought about Michael and momentarily lingered in the memory of his embrace. I noted a valley in the mountains ahead where an unmarked manhole was supposedly located. This was the entryway into the underground city. It seemed so close now, but as I looked out into the distance, the disorienting waves of heat made it feel incredibly far.

I swerved in my steps, periodically stumbling from my lack of energy. There is a certain way your body feels when you're malnourished. You can feel and hear every movement of your muscles and bones. It would be more interesting if it wasn’t so horribly hot. I should be used to the heat by now, but it’s always an ongoing negotiation. I started to get dizzy and finally decided it was time to drink the last eight ounces of water I had left. I pulled the hydration pack out and thought to myself, “This is it. The moment I feared reaching for so long. This is the last of my water...”

As I drank, I prayed this water would keep me going until I reached the manhole in the mountains.

The heat was unbearable and sweat began to saturate areas of my clothing. It felt like an eternity, but I eventually made it to the valley. I could barely breathe while I felt the frailty of my new frame. I became nauseated and started dry heaving, a sign of heat stroke. Fortunately, I was feet away from a shadowed area of the mountains’ valley I found myself in. I found solace in its shade, then sat down to slow down my breath.

My head was pounding again. I placed my hand on the Earth to stabilize myself, when I noticed a metal, triangle shape on the ground. I swept some dirt away and found an open circular hole the size of a silver dollar. It was the manhole! I made it. However, my excitement was dulled by the exhaustion I felt. I was depleted... I had no energy left.

At that time my awareness was drawn to the weight of the gold, heart-shaped locket on my chest. I closed my eyes and thought of my family. The red glow of sun I saw through my eyelids, became an increasingly bright, warm white light. My headache dissipated and a calming peace swept over me. I felt my father behind me. He gently placed his hand on my left shoulder, then softly whispered in my ear… “Welcome home Sweetie.”