The First Date of the Rest of Our Lives

Janine stood still, eyes wide, surveying the horizon of the foaming, polluted lake. Alex couldn’t help but watch her; the palpable wonderment stirring a long-forgotten feeling of electricity in her chest. This evening, Alex’s limbs seemed to have an endless charge of static; wading through the dust and rubble was effortless. Janine was perched atop a slab of concrete with rebar winding its way upwards as if it were reaching out to feel the thick, particulate wind. As Alex helped her down, confidently securing her waist, Janine let out a nervous giggle.

“This is the farthest I’ve been out before,” Janine said, glancing sideways, still enrapt by the crashing waves spilling onto the ruins of the old financial district.

“Is it what you imagined it to be?”

Janine turned, facing Alex with that same wry smile she had given her when Alex walked onto her unit, freshly demoted from the coveted engineering department.

“I couldn’t have imagined anything better.”

The extended pause was interrupted as Alex turned on her heels, forging ahead on the rough shoreline. “I have something else to show you.”

Janine continued behind her. She was growing increasingly nervous about being outside the compound, and with every footstep onward, the distance between the only home she’d ever known grew larger. But as she followed Alex’s sure footsteps over the smoothed bricks and fetid, stinking algae, she was desperate to stay as close as she could. She avoided looking back, afraid that if she gauged their distance for a second, she would turn her head back and Alex would be out of sight.

As they kept on the haphazard shoreline carved out by the unrelenting barrage of rising water that signaled the decline of the old times, Janine was surprised. What looked like rubble at a distance became seemingly intentional fixtures up close. Rubber tires lined an outcropping of concrete, with mesh wiring holding the structure intact.

“What is this?” Janine cried out, her voice muted amidst the uproar of the noxious spray lapping near her feet. Alex climbed onto the structure, beckoning Janine with outstretched arms. “Trust me!” Alex pleaded. “You’re okay, I promise.”

Janine clasped Alex’s hands and made her way up the rocks with shaky progress. “Who… what made this?” Janine looked up at Alex with a certain wild fear — a fear that presents itself when an animal is cornered and prepared to attack.

“Listen to me.” Alex embraced Janine and waited for her heartbeat to stop pounding. Slowly, her tense shoulders slackened, and she once again looked into Alex’s eyes.

“Who made this, Alex? What is this?”

Alex turned her around, rested her head on Janine’s shoulder, and pointed to something in the distance. As she focused her eyes in the direction of Alex’s finger, a dark spot on the horizon came into her view.

“They made this. We made this.”

As Janine spun around, that wild look immediately returned to her face. Alex grabbed her shoulders and met her trembling expression with a measured stare.

“I’ll explain everything. But I think you know. You have to know. You just don’t want to.” Janine said nothing, her mouth open, nostrils flared.

“I have one more thing to show you. We have to keep moving. Come on, I promise you it’ll be worth it.”

As she felt the tug of Alex’s hand leading her down the grungy cinder blocks, back on to the shore, she had the sudden urge to tear away and run in the opposite direction. She kept walking forward. Perhaps it was the state of shock she had found herself in or the need for her burning questions to be answered, but she felt as if Alex’s firm grip on her hand was the only thing she could know for certain was real at this moment.

They scrabbled upwards toward the Old City, eventually making it to a street lined with cavernous sinkholes. Curiously, there were white lines painted along the wide boulevard, carving out what looked like a path.

“Don’t cross those lines,” Alex said, darting her eyes around the corners of the staggering, decrepit buildings while keeping a clipped pace. “We’re almost there.” She flashed a warm, excited smile that Janine felt wash over her.

Suddenly, Alex stopped. Around a block ahead of them, an orange piece of cloth flew in the breeze, tied to a pole. She broke into a jog. “Come on! Hurry.”

“Where are we going?” Janine gasped, keeping pace for fear of being left behind. Just past the orange marker, Alex abruptly halted. She turned to Janine with that same wide smile that seemed to erase any tension in the air.

“We’re here.”

Janine looked around; there didn’t seem to be anything but abandoned ruins, save for the odd weed that survived the affliction of humanity.

Alex laughed and walked over to a pile of dusty refuse. She grabbed a particular corner with ease, pulling a tarp from beneath the rubble, pushing the debris aside. Underneath, a staircase leading down to a smooth, metal door was revealed.

Janine followed her down the dark, musty entrance. Alex punched a code into a PIN pad and the door clicked open with a sharp hiss. Inside there seemed to be a storeroom of sorts; lining the walls were containers stocked up to the low ceiling, with four cots stood on their side, packed into the corner. At the other end of the room, there was a table and two chairs.

“What is this?” Alex walked into the room and pulled up a chair, looking at Janine standing in the doorway.

Janine froze; her legs unable to move as she contemplated an irreparable change from the linear, mundane and predictable comfort of life in the compound.

“Take your time.” Alex walked over to one of the shelves, grabbing two metal mugs and a striking, peculiar bottle. The tapered spout and styled lettering on the label told Janine that it wasn’t from the compound’s ration supply.

“Have you ever had a glass of Merlot? I promise you’ll like it.”

Janine watched the deep, ruby red pour into the mugs and stepped forward, taking a seat at the table. She had heard stories of wine, from a time when the soil offered abundance. Back when civilization lived freely in the open air — without mandated assignments ruling existence, every working body a part of the larger mechanism that kept the compound running. She had always thought of those stories as ancient myths; a time when gods walked the earth and magic ruled the laws of nature.

Alex watched intently as Janine lifted the wine to her lips, hesitantly taking a sip. Warmth rushed over her, and she felt her muscles relax. She took another sip.

“I leave tomorrow.”

Janine looked up, a hint of that wild fear creeping back over her face. Alex lowered herself to the cold floor and knelt by Janine’s legs, hands clasped on her knees, eyes wide. “That place… it’s not a life. Haven’t you ever wanted a family?”

Janine tilted her head. “I don’t understand.”

“People are living. Really living. They don’t want you to know that, but there are people, families, friends... they’re all living over there.”

Janine stared into the mug, her hands shaking.

“I want you to come with me. Come with me, and I’ll show you things you wouldn’t even believe were possible. We could be possible.”

Janine had never even thought of exploring the ruins, no less leaving the compound. There wasn’t anything other than the compound. Her voice wavered.

“They can track us. As soon as we don’t log in for duties in the morning there’ll be drones following our signal.”

Alex smiled, rested her head on Janine’s thighs, and let out a sigh of relief.

“One thing about wine, which you may not know, is that it can dull physical pain.”

Alex leaped up, reaching for something on the top of the shelf. With a loud clank, she placed a long, thin metal instrument on the table.

“I promise it looks worse than it’ll be.”

Janine met Alex’s gaze. Her mind wandered to earlier that day, which seemed like weeks ago. The moment she agreed to explore the ruins with her on Rest Day, she made a choice. Alex inched closer, her stare transfixed with the deep brown eyes that were blinking with a certain nervous rhythm on tempo with her pounding heartbeat.

Janine ran her hand in Alex’s thick tangle of curls, meeting her embrace. She picked up the sleek, imposing instrument on the table, holding it up to the harsh blue light of the bunker.

“I’ll follow you anywhere.”