There's No Sundown Here

No one remembered the light, nor could recall the warmth of the Sun, or the fire, its offspring. This world, nor its remaining inhabitants, was no longer built for such necessities. There was no government, no currency, and no technology. Physical beauty, material possessions, and power struggles were rendered futile. All that tied humanity to "civilization" was now extinct. Everything was frozen, and everywhere was darkness.

In 3 AD, the humans that survived the "Cessation" took refuge in what would formerly be known as Texas in the vacant JPMorgan Chase Building. None of the remaining population had firsthand knowledge of the world Before Cold (BC), and fewer were aware of the physical changes to their anatomies provoked by the Cessation itself. Now existing in extreme cold, their muscle mass and bone structure became denser, and their skin covered entirely in thick strands of hair. Currently living in near-complete darkness, humans were born with more enormous eyes and a higher concentration of rod receptors therein, allowing them to navigate the unknown with more ease. In addition, the extreme drop in carbon dioxide levels caused the absence of heat and fire, prompting massive jaws and sharper teeth to compensate for chewing hard or frozen sustenance.

After crossing what was once the Mississippi River, most of the potential re-colonizers had frozen to death, while the rest went insane in the endless darkness. Of the million or so who made the journey, less than eight thousand existed today, with the lowest life expectancy ever recorded by humankind capping out at forty years. Nevertheless, the expedition survivors, having realized that this was life now, made lives and made life. And there was love and peace.

21 AD (After Dark)

Though there was no memory of the past, there still existed history; firsthand written testimony of the Cessation known as the Txts. These true stories of "Life BC" and "the day the lights went out" frightened children while making the eldest of the survivors who were not victims to the happenings of these accounts grateful. Consuming the words of those long past usually aroused one of those two emotions. Noj was the exception in this case. Noj, born 8 AD, soon found himself discontent with these answers or lack thereof. Noj was not the eldest, but he was not the youngest anymore; and having been raised on the Txts, he'd had ample time to feel both fear and gratitude. At thirteen years of age, Noj had the most thorough knowledge of the Txts in the population. Reading those stories today, though, called upon Noj's frustration. "In all this time hunting and gathering, reading, teaching, surviving, where does our future lie? Can this even be considered the future if nothing has changed as a result of what we know of our past? What can we do? Where can we go?"

Noj was not a prisoner, but no one ever left. The eldest would venture out to collect sustenance, but they always returned soon after. To journey in this day and age was unheard of and dangerous, but Noj had had enough of "the devil he knew." Noj would tell no one of his plans; he could not risk being stopped. The next day at brightest night, he packed his notebook and as much sustenance as he could fit into a duffle bag. He shouldered his grandfather's spear fashioned from a 6-foot steel pipe and bowie knife and began his quest with a single step in a different direction.

21 AD, 14:02:01, eight days later

Noj had traveled far beyond the point of Earth that would have marked the end of Texas; he was now somewhere in the Gulf of Mexico. Noj felt unusually tired for reasons beyond him, which was only more confusing when he considered the ample amount of rest he ensured he got. It couldn't have been from malnourishment. If not for his discipline, he would have run out of the rations he took from home, and just three days prior, Noj killed a Lyuba and still had meat leftover from the poor beast. The only thought Noj knew was sure at this point was this was the first time he'd felt uncomfortable in his own body. Still, he traveled onward using the stars to guide him. The further he walked, the more his mind began to wander, permanently resolving to one question: "What do I expect to find?" He nearly succumbed to his worry that whatever he found, if anything, wouldn't present itself until after starvation or death from whatever this daunting feeling overcame him. Finally, he grew tired from his worry and subsided to rest.

00:00:02

Noj awoke ten hours later to a foreign sound. Beep! He initially assumed it to be an animal he soon realized whatever was producing that sound, that beep, was a great distance away. He looked to the stars to pinpoint his location, gathered his faculties, and walked toward the eep.

05:11:09, two days later

The beep was almost unbearably loud now. Noj was right on top of whatever was emitting this unpleasant noise when he made out a long dome-shaped formation buried in the snow. After burrowing deep enough on one side of the figure, Noj flipped over a hollow structure. It was a motor-powered craft with a weatherproof tarp over the cabin. Noj untied the tarp to unveil a messenger bag and two containers the size of paper boxes with deep, broad ridges all over them. Upon opening the bag, Noj soon came in contact with the device emitting the incessant beep and crushed it in his palm. He sat puzzled at how a machine no larger than a 9V battery could produce such a powerful sound. The only other contents of the bag were two notebooks labeled "Ration Ledger" and "Journal." Toward the stern, there were two boxes fashioned with circular numeric locks which he first thought to break. He successfully denied his impulses and returned his attention to the notebooks. Extrapolating that he'd gain more context from journal entries than a meal plan, Noj tossed the ledger port side, hunched down in the craft's cabin, and opened the journal.

My name is Pollo. If you are reading this journal, it means you have discovered my motor craft and its contents therein. The button on the face of the beacon device will disable the alert frequency. Keep it close. Depending on your propensity for the unknown, you may need it later.

Damn.

Noj read on.

I doubt anyone was brave enough to follow me from whence I came, so whoever is reading this must be a native of this land. For this, I am thankful. YOU are my intended recipient.

The words in the journal told the story of a journey from the United Hemisphere of Eternal Light. Descriptions of a land, a people, and a way of life Noj had never heard of was the exact opposite of everything he'd ever known. Bare dark-skinned humans with small bright-colored eyes, dry heat, infinite desert, and a singular government existing in this time were all foreign concepts to Noj. He especially struggled to understand "light." He was aware of what light was, but despite not being blind, he couldn't be sure if he'd ever really seen it. The traveler, whom Noj dubbed "Last Light," wrote on expressing the same desires as Noj, to see and to know for sure. As the writing extended further into Pollo's journey, though, Noj was constrained to relive his own worry and doubt.

You, my friend, have broken a cycle. I found nothing out here.

The following thick stack of pages in the journal was stuck together, and the ones that would come apart appeared redacted; the weather had not been good to them. Pollo had covered one page with tiny, perfectly drawn hearts. Noj flipped the page and found the original heart attached to a chain, keeping the page as a bookmark. Noj almost overlooked the note written beneath it, entranced by the shape's glare in the starlight.

What I left behind, for what I hoped to find... 05-18-2042

Recognizing the sentimental value of this memorial, Noj left the page as he found it and flipped vigorously through more redactions.

Last Sundown

In man's neverending attempt to fix the unbroken, humankind found itself standing justified in its preconceptions of power. In the mid-22nd century, the Earth seemingly became determined to rid herself of every living thing that walked upon her. A tsunami that nearly took out the DMV marked the first victim of what became a bi-weekly occurrence alongside volcanic eruptions, tornadoes, and landslides. The potential end of the world soon came as casual as midday rain. But that is what's always been admirable about the human race. We make it work. We adapt. Shit didn't hit the proverbial fan until an increase in the gravitational connection between Earth and its Moon beset to bring the two too close for comfort. Facing questions from his citizens he could not answer, the sitting president appointed the Allied Space Exploration Moonbase to conduct a mission. The goal was to determine what changes [to] on the Moon could be contributing to its susception to the Earth's tug. Five weeks and two tsunamis later, the ASEs uncovered data proved inconclusive with desired outcomes. Scientists, running the risk of losing the homes they made and those they left behind, deduced that the Moon's distance from the Earth was the government's top priority and enacted Plan Z. The ASE would mobilize the Moon. Unfortunately, their attempts resulted in an explosion that, in conjunction with all of the other foreign materials on the Moon's surface, imploded the Moon. The horror, dubbed "Silent Night," was plastered on every television channel like 9/11: In Space. "I lost a lot of friends that day."

As the Earth slipped off her axis, the government moved to Defcon -2, and with no planetary evacuation in place, it was time to adapt again. My job was to engineer an artificial axis using next-generation electromagnetic technology, which resulted in me successfully constructing the machine that deprived half of the planet of the Sun for over three decades and counting.

Whatever Noj felt emotionally at this point was ineffable. His life was not a lie rather a stark half-truth orchestrated in part by the man he had just gotten to know so well, his friend. Yet, before he could confront the knowledge bestowed upon him, he saw through his welling eyes that the passage continued.

As for your aforementioned propensity for the unknown, I present to you a choice. You should have found two lock-crates in the cabin. The combination for both is the date beside the locket. One crate contains enough sustenance for a single-person journey from three-quarters as far as I came. The other crate holds tools you will need to survive that are specified to your presumed evolutionary distinctions. And although I know nothing of your life and love, I urge you to choose wisely. I did not know what I would find in this place, but I sought no forgiveness. All I've left to take solace in is a cool, blind death beneath the stars. Farewell, my friend.

Noj's choice, as it was laid out for him by Pollo, was simple, and he proceeded as instructed. He returned to the locket bookmark removing it and the page beneath it from the journal. He confirmed which lock-crate contained the sustenance and dumped its contents into his nearly empty duffle bag. Noj exited the motorcraft and immediately demonstrated his intent to leave it as he found it. As he looked past the overturned transport out in the direction from whence Pollo came, he could faintly see the stars dissolve into whiteness in the sky. Gripping Love's Locket tightly in his hand, Noj looked back at the love he'd left behind. Noj stepped forward in a familiar direction. He'd seen the light.