Fault Line

Underground, there’s no telling the seasons or the weather and the windows are fake and painted in bright renditions of old above-ground artwork from days gone by, imperfect but lovingly hand painted. The air coming through the vents is room temperature and filtered, giving no hint as to the state of the outside world.

Like clockwork, the overhead sprinklers click on, misting the small garden beneath them, followed by the heat lamps warming slightly. The bunker is dark and cool otherwise, making it difficult for Jhaesa to want to leave the safety and comfort of her home, but it’s supply day and she needs drinking water and more seeds for her garden.

By the door, she tugs on a pair of beat-up combat boots, lacing them tightly. She removes the delicate heart shaped locket from her neck, presses it briefly to her lips, then sets it down carefully. She can’t risk wearing it out in public for fear of being beaten and robbed for the precious gold, and it’s one of the last pieces she has from her parents. Finally, she reaches for the gas mask, doing a quick check to make sure it’s in working before fitting it over her face, glancing in the mirror to double check it’s situated correctly. Under the mask, the only thing visible are her pale blue eyes, the one identifying mark that tells everyone she was born before the Collapse.

With one last glance around her home, she begins cranking the inner door open, gloved hands gripped tightly around the wheel. The air lock hisses slightly, and she steps into the small area between the two doors. One more check on the straps of her mask then she unlocks the outer door, revealing the rocky outcropping that shields her home from view. The near-perpetual gloom has persisted for so long that it’s almost comforting, but there’s a brightness to the haze that suggests the sun is out, though its rays don’t manage to cut through the heavy smoke-filled air.

The Collapse had begun when she was five, when the San Andreas fault split, and half of California was swept out to sea and the other half swallowed by the rising ocean levels. The currents had changed, warming up and melting the polar ice caps, resulting in massive storms and unprecedented destruction, followed by unexpected shifts in the tectonic plates that happened faster than anyone had been ready for. Scientists had been struck speechless as their theories and weather models became obsolete as the continents began to merge together once more, millions of years ahead of time.

The churches cried eternal damnation for the wicked and preaching salvation for the righteous while the Earth’s billionaires cowered behind their security gates, until even their money ran out and they’d been forced to the streets, facing the wrath of the common folk. Society had fallen after that, police forces dismantled and governments unable to control the people. Classes and rules no longer existed; it was every man for themselves and no one was your friend.

Not long after that, the volcano in Yellowstone National Park erupted, tonnes of ash and smoke blanketing the earth and sky and killing hundreds of people who had made the. It remained active to this day, fifteen years later, belching out lava and smoke like a gassy old man.

The phrase makes her smile; it has been a favorite of her father’s and it always made her giggle when he said it. Now, it tugs on her heartstrings to remember it, the same as when she opens up that locket to look at their pictures. They’d built this bunker, her mother and father, not long after California disappeared under the waves like ancient Atlantis, and it was the only home she could recall. It had everything they ever needed, and the markets every Saturday dealt in trade if anything else was required.

They had been in the market, all three of them, when the riot broke out. They’d been separated by a mob, Jhaesa losing her grip on her father’s hand as he had been tugged in one direction. She’d stumbled, falling to the ground and scraping her palms on the sharp gravel and panicked when the screaming started, scrambling under the nearest table, pulling her knees to her chest. She had clutched her dagger tightly in one hand, though she’d never used it in an actual fight and didn’t think she’d be able to use against someone.

It seemed like forever had passed before it got quiet and she’d slowly crawled out from under the table, eyes darting left and right. The market was still, tables overturned, fruit trampled upon the ground, though through the gas mask she hadn’t been able to smell the sticky sweetness. Scouring the area turned up no clues at first, the dust settling from the kicked-up gravel until she reached the opposite edge of the market and spotted footprints and multiple tire tracks in the dirt track leading out towards the east road. Frowning, she had followed them until a glint of something in the grass had caught her eye. Kneeling in the dirt, she had picked a dirty necklace, only to drop it once more when she’d realized that it was her mother’s, and her heart sank.

Standing, she stood numbly at the side of the road as the sky darkened until someone nudged her, catching her attention. Through wet eyes and a fogging up mask, she recognized old Louise who always traded these funny little trinkets for fruits and vegetables. He father had traded some especially large potatoes for a music box for her birthday and it had quickly become one of her prized possessions.

Louise had stayed with her the entire walk home and it wasn’t until she was safely inside that she allowed herself to drop to the floor and sob.

Her parents had disappeared, and she was alone. She’d just turned eighteen and her parents were gone.

Taking a breath to clear the thoughts in her head, Jhaesa eased out from the rocks, scanning the area for strangers before she turned down the trail to the market. That had been two years ago, and it had never happened again, but it never hurt to be cautious. She held out hope that her parents would turn up at the next market, whole and unharmed, but as the days had passed, she had let go of that hope little by little.

The market was bustling today, and there was music coming from one of the stalls. Smiling at old Louise and her husband as she passed, she paused at one of the seed stalls to see if there were any tomato seeds yet but finding nothing she turned away from the table. In doing so, she walked into a man passing behind her but as she opened her mouth so she could apologize, he grabbed her hand and put something in it, before disappearing into the crowd without a word.

Frowning, she looked down at the item in her hand, a small pile of papers tied together with twine and only grew more confused. She tugged her gloves off and fumbled with the knots for a few minutes until she managed to untie them and unfolded the first paper, which looked like a map. It was definitely not a map of a place she recognized, as she moved on to the next folded up bit and that turned out to be directions of some kind. Feeling like this was some sort of prank or game like the children played, she unfolded the third paper in the packet and felt her eyes widen and her stomach drop to her feet.

It was a photograph, taken in an unfamiliar place and the subjects weren’t looking at the camera. She knew though, there was no doubt in her mind who these people were.

She gazed unseeing through the crowded market, only one thought racing through her mind.

Her parents were alive.