New Beginnings

Looking down at the almost pristine cityscape. To him, the view evoked both triumph and despair, the first because of what was and the second for what was no longer. If you squinted, it was like it had never happened. All the lines were crisp and the missing windows. Well, they were just the clever design of architects putting personality into their creation.

The whole place had been deserted but not abandoned.

They still visited regularly.

Others too.

He had walked in those shadows and last year he had even entered the cavernous open spaces and climbed to the sky. That hike up those thousands of steps had been a waste.

No!

That was wrong. Sure, they had returned empty-handed, but there was more to life than material goods. It was Jody’s first time, and she had loved the view. That moment when her face was transformed into an expression of innocent wonder. She had been looking out across the city that was slowly and surely being reclaimed by nature, and he had been grinning ear to ear, watching the emotions play over her flawless skin. It was her first scavenger experience, and she had loved it.

Flicking the now tarnished heart-shaped locket open. Eyeing the pictures like he had done so many times before that so that now they were burned into his memories. Shutting it and running his fingers over the metalwork. It needed a polish and had turned black instead of the original silver, yet the intricate swirls were unaltered.

Cupping the locket and turning his hands over to hide it fully. Exhaling heavily and squinting up at the sky.

Composing himself.

It had been so long, over twenty years, and he was back here on vigil once more.

There was a presence behind. Respecting him but being there if he needed it while giving him space. Moisture in his eyes. That was something he had promised not to do today.

“Thank you for coming.”

He did not care that his voice was breaking.

She was moving closer. Hands encircled his waist and her body pressed against him, hugging him.

Swallowing heavily and sniffling.

“Thank you for being here.” He told her. A hand brushing his cheek, wiping away the single tear that had escaped. “How did you know?”

“You do this every year.”

“Yeah!”

She had not answered him, but that was ok.

Clicking the locket open and shut again.

He sat down. The park bench was not surviving as well as the skyscrapers in the distance, but it still held his weight. Though barely. There was room for two. He tapped the seat.

She nestled next to him, resting her head on his shoulders, and together they stared down at what used to be a populous city.

“Do you remember when we met?”

“Of course. But I did not know how awesome you were then.”

She laughed. It was something that he loved to hear and spent a lot of time chasing.

“To be fair, I had not washed for a week.”

“Your group saved me. I had seen no one since it happened.” She had heard the story hundreds of times, but she made encouraging noises, anyway. God, he loved her. “Only bodies, and the smell, oh my god the smell, especially when you knew what was causing it. I was lost, mourning and considering ending myself. I thought I was the last. That was no hope. I even had a gun.”

“Really, you never told me.”

“It misfired.”

“Oh.” The hug got tighter.

Flicking the locket open and shut. It was time to end it.

“You have never come here before?” Asking her again. It was probably just a delaying tactic.

“It has never been my place.”

“Yet, you are here today. How?”

Looking down at her. She was still beautiful. Hard and weathered, but had kept the sparkle in her eyes. She smiled up at him.

“Just demonstrating my awesomeness,” she quipped, using his word deliberately.

Laughing now. The partially reclaimed city was laid out below him. It was a classic day with the late afternoon sun giving him the perfect view of everything and the warmth was wonderful on his face and skin. Some houses were intact and from this distance looked untouched, and others were swamped by greenery, vibrant and alive. In reality, they were all empty husks of what they once were.

“This is my last time.”

She said nothing at his proclamation. Letting him find his own words. How had he found someone so perfect who was willing to put up with his baggage?

“I need to move on. I have a new family, you,” he nudged her, hoping for a laugh but just received a small smile, as the mood was too intense for more. “And the pigs.”

“Ahh god the pigs!” She was laughing with him. “Everyone thought you were mad, when you first tried to catch them.” The bubbling joy of the memory broke through the tension, and he smiled along with her. “Then when you had them, your attempts to keep them contained. For that first week you would not let them outside for fear of losing one.”

“There was so much shit, and you all refused to help clean it.”

“You did good,” she agreed, patting him on the head.

Carefully, he disengaged from her and knelt on the ground in front of the bench that he had visited every year for the last twenty-three. Digging into the soft soil and placing the locket in the small hole.

“I always thought you would want that to become a family heirloom.”

“I thought so too, but I was wrong.”

Covering it up.

More tears.

So much for promises.

Sitting next to her, both pressing their heads together to get as close as possible. They looked down on what humans had lost. So many people, infinite knowledge, all those machines and computers. The bounty of modern life that would have to be laboriously reclaimed by future generations. Sure, they had grabbed all the technical manuals they could, and taught the kids every scrap they remembered. It was one advantage of living on the outskirts of the broken city. Part of the reason they had stayed.

Living with ghosts was better than starving.

Their group motto.

It was that saying that gave them the courage to live next to the greatest of monuments. A landscape that dug into everyone’s heart and reminded them of lost loved ones and the destruction of the future that had once been promised. Despite that, they had stayed close, because memories did not kill you and when things got hard, there were always twenty-year-old cans of beans out there just waiting to be found.

“I spent the first year wishing I had died with them.” He nodded at the locket. “Everything was about gathering survival, preserving knowledge, finding what happened.”

“Uselessly!” she declared at the last bit.

They had debated it endlessly. A virus combined with EMPs at a minimum had been the trigger. Those discrete events occurring at the same time stretched the bounds of plausibility. It meant it was terrorists or a rogue government or aliens. Maybe one day their kids would work it out. There was only so much you could do with pen and paper and ten-year-old rice.

Shaking his head.

“It was all so busy but beyond that there was nothing to live for. Then I found you and now I can’t even bring myself to regret the event. Them.” he gestured softly at the locket. “Losing them was hard, but I have a new family now. A grandchild, a functional village, a future, regular consistent crops.”

“And pigs,”

“Yes, and pigs,” he chuckled along with her. “So scavenging is a luxury rather than a necessity. That,” another gesture at the locket. “It has become a millstone.”

“No,” she objected. “It is part of you.”

“I loved Jess more than life itself.”

And now you, he thought to himself.

“I know and also Christine.”

“We all have our ghosts. Yet it is time. I do not need to clutch those memories like a starving man anymore. I have new ones. Every day there is laughter in the village, vibrancy and life, and carrying that locket, clinging to the past. No. I need to move on, live for now, and for our future prosperity. For our kids and grandkids.”

“And pigs?”

They smiled knowingly at each other, but he could not let the teasing stand.

“No, for each other.”

They watched why the sun dropped, and then as it started to get cold, they stood with entwined hands. She gave a simple kiss, and it said more than words ever could.

Heading down towards the village, the smell of pig on the spit reached them.

Love triumphs all, but the pigs sure helped.