Dear Diary

Dawn trickled into the deserted warehouse through a broken roof, not so much bringing light as pointing out in glowing fingers how decrepit the contents were. Debris was piled from wall to wall, separating the large space into smaller sections, each one in turn filled with odd mounds of rotted fabric, moldering boxes, piles of wood, and other, less easily identified things. A few narrow alleys through the center of the debris looked like paths through a junkyard.

Angie yawned, pushed back her cadet cap and looked around the vast room. Squinting at the light coming through the dilapidated struts of the roof, she shook her head. "Terrific."

All the buildings the team had seen in the area were old, but this was different. Almost as if it had been here longer, untouched. She automatically pulled her tablet out of her knapsack to make notes when the events of yesterday swam up in her consciousness. The fight in the mobile science lab, when she learned they were actually supposed to find out what had killed most efficiently in the last war, not how to avoid it. She had said some choice words, walked out of the mobile, and just kept walking in the growing darkness- until she found this building to crash in.

Angie pulled out her water bottle and drank deeply. I wonder if there's any food around. She took a few steps away from the wall, pulled a flashlight from her bag and wandered through the piles of rotting fabric and stacks of boxes. Ah.

There were some ancient cans of soup, and she put a couple in her knapsack just in case she got desperate. Then, something sticking out from under some debris a few feet away caught her eye. She nudged the decaying fabric back with the toe of her boot. At first she only saw the sparkle of something that caught the beam of her flashlight. A heart, silver, on a silver chain. Then she saw the rest, and her heart jumped.

A skull grinned up at her, the small, bony arms of its body wrapped around a book. The water she had just swallowed came up in a rush, splattering in the dust as she realized she was looking at the huddled skeleton of a young child. Turning, she stumbled over another pile of debris and heard the hollow, almost musical sound of bones collapsing onto the concrete floor. Everywhere she turned, now that she was looking for them, she saw heaps of crumbling cloth with dull bits of knobby, ivory white stems sticking out from under them.

Metal switchback stairs climbed up the wall behind her and she flew up them, thinking only to get away. At the top she paused, panting, and looked at the floor six flights below. It was clearer from here that the ground level was divided into smaller sections, almost like rooms. Oh.

A small squatter's town had been created in this huge warehouse; a big, sturdy place that was safer from the bombing and the raids than their homes.

Then why are they all dead?

There was no sign of a fight here. Angela's mind ran over the possibilities that the last war gave. Poison? Biological warfare? Gas?

She spun away from the silent graveyard and found she was facing a door. Without a thought she pushed through, slammed it and fell back, her eyes squeezing shut in a futile attempt to erase her memory. Then a cold draft brushed her hair, and she heard a rustling noise. Oh, no-

The room was missing part of its back wall. The rustling was dry leaves that had blown in, and the draft was the breeze that moved them. Something must have hit this building back during the war, neatly shearing off a section of brick and plaster.

Instinctively she moved to the opening, clinging to the edge of the broken wall and gulping fresh air as if she'd been holding her breath for hours.

Dawn was breaking in earnest over the ruined city, draping the broken buildings with shining coppery streaks where the rain had left them wet. As the sun rose it illuminated the devastation, and the magic faded. Angie took one more deep breath before looking around the room.

Consoles lined two walls, and she looked at the remains of dials and meters curiously. Gaping holes showed where equipment had been, cut wires indicating they'd been pulled out in a hurry. Broken monitors hung on one wall, and she could make out what looked like a logo of some sort embossed above them.

"Y?" She squinted, trying to make out more than the one lowercase letter. I'd guess this was a control room. Operations for the warehouse – might have been a factory. She stared at the wall for a few minutes and realized the words below the y had been scraped off.

This place wasn't just abandoned – whatever was going on here, they tried to take all trace of it with them. But with death and devastation all around, who were they hiding it from? Unless… military?

She flipped switches on the ruined equipment, expecting nothing and getting just that. Then there was a quiet, sharp snap when she flicked the switch back and forth on an old meter.

"Oh, really?" She fished out her kit, pushed up her sleeves and opened the bottom of the console. "Okay. What have we got here?"

The snap had been, as she thought, a short circuit. And where there's a short, there's power. She traced the wiring back to where it disappeared into the brick. Leaning out the hole in the wall, she saw a bank of old solar cells mounted into the side of the building.

Habit had her fixing the wiring automatically, and she flipped the switch. The needle on the meter rewarded her by jumping and settling down.

"Well, hello, little friend. Like to tell me what you're measuring?" When she stepped away the needle sank a bit lower. "Temperature? Humidity?" She opened her knapsack and put it on the counter to get her water. "What about –"

She looked at the machine, and her eyes widened. The needle was three quarters of the way across the meter. With scientific calm, she picked up the knapsack and moved it away, watching the needle drop as she did. Thoughtfully, she reached into her bag and pulled out a can of food from downstairs.

The needle jumped to its far end.

Angela blinked. Suddenly she looked at the logo on the wall and whispered what she saw there. It was not a lower case y, although it resembled one. It was a Greek letter. One that she knew well. Gamma. The thought left her mouth dry.

That small 'y' shape. A Greek letter used with caution in labs everywhere. Clearly, whatever had been produced in this space had left it kissed with gamma radiation. Those people down there… they didn't know. They knew it was a big, empty, strong building. Her stomach churned as she imagined it, knowing all too well what would have happened as they stayed here. As they got sicker. Even then, the leaders didn't care about the people. They all died here, and I'm betting no one even warned them.

Then her mind brought up the point that she had thus far avoided.

And I waltzed in and slept here. And now I'm going to die.

She blinked several times. Knowing what it must be measuring, she went back to the meter, tried to figure out the multiplier on the faded dial. Well, I'm still alive, so I can guess it's not too high. I've been here for what, ten hours? I'm guessing this is reading that I'm in about 2 grays. If it was 20 or 200, I'd be dead already.

Unbelievable. I've got a couple weeks, if that...

She staggered out of the room and back down the long stairway. When she reached the first skeleton she had seen, she stopped. Carefully taking the book and necklace from its clutching arms, she opened it and saw scratchy, childlike writing.

This is my book

Chelsea B, age 7 1/2

You can write hello

Angie smiled in spite of herself and turned the page.

Dear Diary,

Today we moved into this super big place. A lot of the neighbors, and some people I don't even know. Mamma says it's just for a little bit, but she always says that about stuff she doesn't like. Papa says we'll be safe here, cause it's got strong walls, and the bombs can't hurt it.

A bunch of soljers came by and said Papa and some other peoples father's had to go with them. Even Emma S's big brother Tom, and he's not that old. I heard Papa ask if this place is safe for us to stay in while he's gone, and one of the soljers said sure. So I guess it's okay. Mamma says he's very brave and we should be too. I am. Mostly. Mamma cried a little when she thought I didn't see.

We have our spot here, just me and Mamma and right next door is Emma J and her aunt. Emma J is my best friend ever! I'm glad she's here. We named all the walks in here like our streets at home, so our familys live on Applewood, and down at the corner where they keep the water is Oakwood. Not too many trees in here, though, haha.

She shook her head and flipped ahead a few pages. Soldiers taking innocent men to fight. It sounded painfully familiar.

Mr Al from the corner says there's something here making people sick. Most everyone else says where else can we go? I can still hear big noises, but more far away than before. Emma J's aunt says he's a worry wart.

Angie turned another sheaf of pages and found only blank sheets. Frowning, she turned back until she found the last page of writing.

Dear Diary,

I feel kinda sick. Mamma went somewhere last night, I guess. I know she'll be back cause she left me her necklace. Emma J's aunt said she'd be gone for a little bit, and said I could call her Aunt Sandy if I wanted. So that's nice.

I found out I have a super power! Timmy K from down the street said that Mamma wasn't comming back, and I got so mad I kicked him really hard. He grabbed me by the hair but then he screamed real loud and ran away because the whole handful came out in his hand! Haha! So I don't know how long it will take to grow my hair back, but I'm glad he's scared of me so he doesn't say those things about Mamma anymore.

I hope Mamma is back soon. Sometimes I hear her when I'm falling asleep. And Papa too. I wanna go with them but then I wake up. I think I'll sleep now. Maybe they'll be here when I wake up. If I look quick I can actshully see them over by the door!

Angie stared at the last words for a long time. Then she carefully closed the book, and looked at the necklace. The heart was a locket, and she opened it easily with a thumbnail. Inside was the picture of a little girl with shining blue eyes and light brown hair, laughing happily. Hi, Chelsea.

Carefully, Angie replaced the necklace with the little figure. She ran a finger delicately across the smooth bone of the skull. "I bet I'll see you soon, Chelsea. Really soon."

Pulling the ragged cloth over the sad little bones, she walked back out into the light. Pulling out a pen, she opened the book.

Dear Diary

My name is Angela C, but you can call me Angie.