The Outliers

"There's a tree, in the back. It has a leaf."

Gerald had never seen any sign of life outside the very few humans he's met. He was born in this wasteland and ever since, expected to die early in it.

There hasn't been any semblance of a lengthy life since the world turned. Those born before the turn managed to have stronger bodies. Gestation in this environment yielded a poorer quality of life. Gerald's father knew this. Perhaps that's why he kept an arms length away.

"There hasn't been any life in those plants for over 60 years. I don't know what you think you saw, but you ain't seen it." Gerald's father shouted back. Never looking up from the piles of rubble and discarded keepsakes.

They're in a home, one of the last standing in the fossilized footprint of an old neighborhood. There are remnants of the old roads children used to ride bikes on. The grass is long gone, the yards are crusted and dried over for decades now. Though, Gerald's father can still hear the laughs of afternoon play, bells from passing cyclists. A faint tinkling of a music box over loudspeaker, an ice cream truck. He hears all of this, but doesn't remember. They're just noises he can't place anymore. Bright, overexposed, flashes of memories of long past time speed through his mind. He was a boy once, but no memory proves this.

Time in a turned world has hardened all.

"Man?" Gerald's father insisted he'd be called. "It's so hot"

"It's always hot." Short. Simple. That's been the extent of his emotion for over 8 years now.

Gerald knows nothing else of his father. For him, this is all the same as it ever was. No matter, the bond Gerald feels to Man is inherently boundless. If he had the words or maturity to describe it, it would be like: family. A home in this treacherous land of abandon and hell. The only love he's ever consciously known.

They sift through the remains of the old world. Hoping to find any usable tools but hoping more to find food. Man has felt this coming on for a long while now. The time he's feared is arriving. When the final rationings of left behind scraps have all been raided and consumed. Any cans and other nonperishables that may have survived past the last of the great culling have all been scoured.

Exhausted and hungry, Man looks at Gerald.

"We'll stay here tonight. Tomorrow, we head down the pit."

Gerald hates the pit. He hates what they find down there. He hates being scared. Most importantly, he hates hunting food down there. There is only mutated rodent down beneath the surface world. The surface world was warmed and dried, picked clean of sustained life. The turning only worsened the earth underneath, huge cavernous craters appeared as giant parcels of land gave way to the hallowed outer crust. It remained damp, though. Cultivating a transformation in some of the few non-human creatures. The rodents all turned, slowly, into hairless milky white malicious beings. All blind with large rough teeth and strong jaws to assist in their consumption of a new, strange, diet. You see, they like meat, they love meat. When they can't find any meat, they eat the rock in the pit. So, they need their strong jaws and tough teeth, and Gerald hates that.

As he lays down to sleep, Gerald looks over at his father, laying still and turned away from him. He thinks, tomorrow I'll be brave.

…

Nighttime in the hovel smells like faint cinnamon. 75 years ago, the largest bakery in what used to be the Midwest still operated here. Neither Nick or Deana remember cinnamon, let alone any of the wonderful pastries that called for it. Most had long gone before the two were born, long forgotten as want died out and absolute necessity took rank. Nick had spent 37 years on the planet, born before the turning. He knew Earth in better times, but only relatively so. The Earth had already begun to die, centuries before. Shallow attempts to stop it were themselves thwarted by party politics. Foolish jesters in malice and greed, danced wildly misdirecting any possibility of hope for measly nickels and dimes.

And they were convincing.

Leaving Nick and Deana here, in their hovel, holed up wishing to care and love for their newborn child. Love and care aren't the problem, but their boy born in such unfathomable times can't possibly have much hope. They've known people before, birth children, and lose. Life after the turning just won't last, not in any capacity.

Maybe after the boy lasts a year, they can name him.

…

Hours after they began their rest, Gerald still can't sleep. Anxiety builds in him at the thought of heading into the pit. He has to be tough, he thinks, to prove himself to his father. He crawls silently over to his father and opens a pocket on his pack that he's never seen Man go into. In fact, Gerald has watched Man reach for the pocket, even fiddle with the closing flap, but never open it. Gerald knows what is in the pocket. It was Woman's. Woman used to smile at Gerald, he looked at her and she was big. A giant. Woman made Gerald feel calm and happy but he can't remember much else. He remembers her smiling and laughing to him. She said something, he didn't understand the language she spoke but she always knew what he would say to her. He remembers that last time he got to see Woman, she yelled, her eyes looked hurt. She cried.

Gerald opens the pocket and pulls out a silver heart shaped locket, heavy with patina. He opens it to see a photo of a small girl. That's her, that's Woman, from before.

He can sleep now.

…

You don't bury the bodies anymore. You don't need to burn them either. Leave them in the sun and they dry and crack, crumble, in days. Or, you eat.

Deana can't bear the idea of eating her baby boy. They were so close. Gerry, they were going to call him Gerald, Gerry for short. She felt the light of it all brighten these horrific days. The turned world doesn't leave life any leeway. Only the strong can survive. Though, Nick is beginning to think it only takes luck anymore. Eleven and a half months isn't nearly enough time to gain any possible luck.

The Boy never stood a chance.

…

The descent into the pits is generally easy. A smooth, lengthy decline leads you below the surface. Out of the sun's light, it somehow feels as if you've lost weight stepping into the shadows. It's colder down here, but it's bearable. Tiny bioluminescent creatures crawl all around the cavernous expansion. They give off just enough light to faintly recognize shapes and space around. In 30 minutes, their eyes should condition to see better, for now they're careful.

Gerald walks with his chest puffed out, standing tall. He wears the locket tucked into his shirt so Man cannot see. It gives him strength and he feels mighty. There's nothing for him to fear.

Gerald and Man walk through the beneath, watching all the while for the rodents they hunt. It'll be a nasty hunt, the rodent's blood has changed to a thick black slime. They'll have to squeeze them dry of it or risk being sick. Worse still, if they're bitten, the saliva carries a toxin that will surely madden them. Days after a bite, they'd start hallucinating and paranoia sets in. Man has seen this before, in a traveler he met long ago.

They travel down, winding through the rock. On the hunt.

…

" There's a gathering of other survivors down there. When it all turned, they went underground. You see? They made it. It's a whole world down there. I know it."

Stevens came from a big family, living alone has not been easy. Nick and Deana hadn't liked how comfortable he made himself around them, they were still unsure of this stranger.

"What happened to your wrist?" Deana asked about the bandage around his arm. It was dirty and black.

"One of those damned milky beast's took a bite outta me. I got him though!" He pulls the severed head of a nasty rat-like creature from his pack. He's strung wire through its skull, intending to wear it as a necklace.

Nick debates following this man down into the pit. The possibility of a community gives him hope, that's all he wants for his son and wife.

"We'll go, it will be what's best for the boy. And you, Deana."

They rest before setting off. It'll be a long hard walk down the pit, the boy is just over a year now. Making the trip without a child would be hard enough, though Nick is determined to keep this one safe.

Moving through the tunnels of the pit weighs on the travelers. Stevens doesn't look well, his arm has lost feeling and his breathing is rapid. Still they walk. The possibility of a sanctuary underground is all that drives them.

Stevens' eyes look white.

They reach a bridge of rock, it's wide and they can pass safely above a sheer drop, though the edges round off. One false move and you'd slide, never stopping before the edge.

"I need sacrifice." Mumbles Stevens.

"What?" Deana asks.

"Sacrifice." His tone deepens and gaze turns to Deana.

Stevens lunges at Deana, wrestling her to the ground. Nick pulls him off and now sees he's gone mad. They fight, but Nick shields the boy as Stevens turns back to Deana. He grabs her shoulders, dragging her towards the edge but he slips. Still holding on, he slides down the rock, Deana grabs hold of the bridge.

Nick can't reach her in time. Her grip loosens and she falls. Nick feels hollow, he cries, he must get his son to the surface where it's safe. Getting up, he sees Deana's locket, the clasp broke in the struggle. He will give this to his boy, if he lives long enough.

…

Running through the cave, Gerald and Man have three large house cat sized rodents in their sights. They gain on the pack ready to pounce. Man's heart pounds, he grips his knife harder. Four figures appear from around the corner dressed in all white. His eyes widen as he grabs for Gerald.

"What? I had th-"

Gerald sees the figures and immediately goes quiet as he hides behind Man. The beings only move their heads, watching Gerald and Man. One speaks.

"Follow."

There's something calming about them, Man thinks. They walk towards the group as they begin heading back down the corridor they came. For miles, they travel. They feel fearful, but still they follow.

Man can hear a waterfall now. Then, people. He hasn't heard sounds like this in ages.

"Man, is that people?"

Man is in disbelief, he can't find the words to answer Gerald. As they round a huge rock structure, unlike the rest they'd seen, a city appears. There are children playing and laughing. Adults all around, all wearing white, all smiling. The strangers turn to Man and Gerald.

"I am Jedidiah, we welcome you to our home. It is safe here in Gabbro." One says.

Gerald runs towards the children. He feels happy and laughs chasing another. His guard falls as he jumps and plays.

"What is your name?" Jedidiah asks Man.

"Nick." He replies, faintly, as a tear swells in his eye at the sight of Gerald laughing.

For the first time in a long time, Nick feels hope for his boy and himself. He can only feel saddened by the fact that Deana isn't here to see Gerald live an almost normal life. They are home.

The Boy might just have a chance.

END