The Girl Who Found the Sun

by Matthew S. Cox

Dammit. Why does seeing someone else pee make me have to go? Raven grumbled mentally. The Arc might have had toxic air, but it also had toilets in private rooms. Grumbling at the irresistible need, she stepped over to the left side of the road by the girls and reached under her poncho for the button that held her pants up.

  Tinsley, finished, went to stand—but her plastic sandal slipped off the paving. Flailing, she fell over forward and vanished, flying headfirst into the bushes. Squeaks, shouts, and thumps grew distant as the child tumbled down the slope beside the road. The commotion stopped in about ten seconds, suggesting the fall hadn’t been too long or steep.

  “Tins!” shouted Raven.

  Silence lasted only an instant before a high-pitched scream came out of the woods.

  Without a care to what she might step in or how steep the hill could be, Raven rushed forward into the foliage, arms up to protect her face from branches. She stumble-charged down the slope toward the still-shrieking child. Uneven ground and a jutting root nearly took her off her feet, but crashing into a tree let her remain upright at the cost of a bruise. She gripped the trunk, let out a hard oof and pushed herself around it.

  The steep grade leveled off about thirty feet from the road. A short ways in front of her amid thick underbrush, Tinsley sprawled on all fours, her face within arm’s reach of an eviscerated deer carcass. Raven rushed over, skidding to a stop on her knees, and grabbed her daughter.

  “Mommy!” Tinsley leapt into a hug, bawling. “The deer popped!”

  Raven brushed the girl’s hair off her face and checked her over. The child had a bunch of small scratches and scrapes from the roll down the hill, but didn’t appear to have suffered any serious injuries. One small cut on her forehead seeped blood, but she’d suffered worse running into a metal shelf last year.

  “Is she okay?” called Sienna from behind and above.

  “Yeah,” shouted Raven. “She’s fine.”

  “Why did she shriek?”

  Raven held the sobbing child, rocking her while patting her on the back. “Dead animal.”

  The deer’s throat had been torn out, its belly ripped open. Unlike the other one they’d seen, this one had multi-pronged horns growing from its head. Most of its entrails lay out on the dirt, though the gore didn’t seem like enough for what should have been inside the body, as if whoever killed it took most of the insides with them somewhere else. Much to Raven’s complete astonishment, flies buzzed around the carcass. She’d assumed there had to be insects out here somewhere if the plants had returned, but to see them proved even more thrilling than watching pigeons. She didn’t even mind the cloud of them landing on her face.

  “Bugs,” whispered Raven. “There’s bugs.”

  “The deer died.” Tinsley sniffled. “Did the bugs do that?”

  “I really don’t think so. These are way too small to hurt an animal as big as a deer.”

  She stood and carried Tinsley up the hill to the road. The incline became quite steep for the last five feet or so, requiring she grab onto roots and tufts of grass to keep from falling. When she reached the top, Sienna took her hand and pulled them up. She, too, fussed over Tinsley, wiping at the scratches on her cheek and forehead.

  “Why’d you scream like that for a fall down a hill?” asked Josh.

  “Not the fall.” Tinsley sniffled again. “There’s an asploded deer.”

  “What?” Josh gawked.

  Xan grimaced. “What happened to its ass?”

  Cheyenne and Ariana chimed, “Eww!” in chorus.

  “An exploded deer?” Sienna raised both eyebrows.

  “Yeah. Poor critter looked like it ate something that blew up.” Raven swallowed bile. Thinking about it now disgusted her more than looking at it since she’d been too worried about Tinsley. “But… flies.”

  “Deers don’t fly,” said Ariana.

  “No, it was covered in flies.” Raven tried to spot the carcass, but too many trees stood in the way for her to see it from the road. “There are insects out here.”

  “What’s flies?” asked Cheyenne.

  “Small, black bugs that fly around.” Raven shrugged. “Probably why they called them flies.”

  “Deer is one of those words I was teaching you about the other day.” Sienna patted Ariana on the shoulder. “It pluralizes without adding an s. One deer, two deer, three deer.”

  “English doesn’t make any sense,” droned Josh.

  “Why don’t people say ‘deers’?” asked Ariana.

  “’Cause it makes them sound stupid,” mumbled Xan.

  Sienna brought up the idea of going to take a closer look at the flies, but the kids vehemently protested going to see an ‘asploded’ deer. Raven did, however, make another trip down the hill to recover the inside pants Tinsley lost while falling. At the spot she found them hanging from a low-lying branch, she paused to stare at the deer carcass.

  Did a feral do that? Awful lot of meat left behind. If the ferals kill deer for food, why aren’t they wearing clothing made from deer skin? She shrugged. Can’t blame them… they probably don’t know how to make leather and I wouldn’t want to cover myself in slimy dead deer skin either. She squirmed, then fanned herself. Damn, it’s hot. Those primitives might have the right idea. Just as she started to chuckle, motion to her right accompanied a strong feeling that something watched her. She glanced in that direction and caught sight of a shadow lurking in a thick mass of leafy branches.

  “Easy, buddy. I know you can’t understand me. Not here to steal your food. Don’t want a problem. I’m leaving right now.”

  A deep, resonant growl came from the shadows, in no way a sound any man could’ve produced.

  Two yellow-green eye spots appeared, glinting in the dark.

  “Shit!” shouted Raven.

  She bolted up the hill as fast as she could run on such an incline, grabbing trees to pull herself forward. In what felt like an instant, she leapt out onto the road, whirled, and drew the katana, pointing it at the trees.

  Empty trees, wavering branches from where she’d rushed by.

  No monster.

  Whatever it was hadn’t followed her.

  The kids and Sienna all backpedaled.

  “Damn, girl, what the hell…?” Sienna pressed a hand over her chest.

  “There’s a monster down there,” whispered Tinsley. “I heard it.”

  “Umm.” Sienna gathered the kids away from the side of the road. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “What kind of monster?” asked Xan.

  Raven took a step back. “Not sure. Big shadow with glowing eyes. Yeah. Good idea. Let’s go.”

  She kept her stare on the woods, backing up along the road for a few minutes. Once it didn’t seem likely the monster would chase them, she faced forward and picked up speed, dodging pavement-breaking trees and large holes.

  Roughly two miles later, the downward sloping highway leveled off near the start of the ruins. She came to a stop at the first street running right and left across the path they’d been following. Buildings of various shapes and sizes stood close together in both directions as well as straight ahead, all fringed in green. Various bushes, weeds, ivy vines, and other flora sprouted from every surface in sight, as if the buildings had put on ‘clothes’ made of plant life. Some even had trees growing inside them, branches sticking out windows or holes in the walls.

  As with the other ruin, mangled metal husks littered the streets wherever cars had been.

  Josh whistled. “Holy crap. This place is huge. Are we gonna live here?”

  The boy’s voice echoed out over the abandoned city and faded back to silence. Everyone stood there listening to the eerie emptiness of a place that once held many thousands of people.

  “I can’t answer that yet. Some of these buildings look like they’re made out of concrete or… whatever those little stones are called.” Raven crossed the intersection, heading toward a six-story building on the corner to her left. Beige stucco had mostly peeled away from a
n underlying surface of rectangular blocks fused together by a substance that resembled concrete. It appeared to be the tallest building in the immediate vicinity, a decent vantage point. A series of five metal patios joined by ladders hung from the side facing the first cross street, offering a convenient way to the roof.

  “What are you doing?” asked Sienna.

  “Going up top for a look around”—Raven pointed at the building—“It’s going to be dark soon. If there is anything out here to worry about, I’d rather see it before we get too far in.”

  “Okay. Be careful. That looks pretty busted. Like it’s gonna fall right off.” Sienna led the kids to the right, heading for the adjacent side of the building facing the street they walked in on, which continued straight into the ruins.

  Raven walked under the lowest metal porch, even with the second story floor, looking for a way up. A ladder sat at one end, retracted, though it appeared capable of extending to the ground. She jumped up and grabbed the lowest rung. Her weight hanging on it didn’t make the ladder budge. A few tugs didn’t break it loose, so she pulled herself up to the wobbling platform. Holding her arms out for balance, she waited for the patio to stop moving. Yeah, this thing’s falling apart. Just like the windmills.” The rivets holding the entire assembly to the wall appeared as likely to pop out as hold. Despite that, she trusted it would be far safer than any interior stairs.

  “Gonna go inside,” called Sienna from around the corner.

  “Okay.”

  Raven gingerly walked to the other end of the platform and started up a narrow metal stairway, clutching the railing in a white-knuckled grip. Every time the steel patios wobbled, groaned, or shifted, she expected to go careening down to the pavement. Maybe this was a bad idea. For some reason, she kept going. By the time she reached the third story, she’d become equally afraid of walking down as up, so she pressed on. Creaks and grinding noises came from above and below. A loud clank from below, as though someone hit the lowest patio with a metal hammer, startled her. She froze. A faint metallic ping followed. Since no one stood there holding a hammer, the only possible explanation involved pieces—probably bolts—falling and striking a lower platform before hitting the sidewalk.

  “Yeah… I think I’ve committed an error in judgement.”

  She waited for the metal framework to stop shaking and tiptoed up the last stairwell. The platform put her even with the windows on the sixth story. She peered in past heavily grimed glass at a huge, wide-open room with dingy white walls. Two of the room’s walls consisted of giant mirrors, also smeared and grimy. A handrail spanned the entire width of the room in front of the larger mirror, baffling her at its purpose. She had no idea why anyone would need a mirror that big or a railing to hold while using it. Multiple holes big enough for a person to fit through marred the dark hardwood floor.

  “Not good.” Raven looked at the metal mesh under her. “These patios are going to collapse at any second and they’re still probably safer than inside.” Having her suspicions confirmed didn’t reassure her too much about an eventual trip back to the street.

  She scaled the sixth story wall, using ample handholds where some of the little rectangular blocks had fallen out, and pulled herself up to sit on a three-foot-high wall surrounding the roof. The warped and buckled surface bore numerous holes exposing the interior and appeared so water damaged it probably couldn’t support a pigeon’s weight. I’d fall right through that… and probably go all the way to the ground floor. While the opposite corner closer to the far end of the city would give her a better vantage point, she also didn’t want to die. Perching on the relatively sturdy stone wall would have to do.

  Looking around at the ruins using her binoculars didn’t offer much new information. Countless abandoned buildings, ruined cars, leaves growing everywhere out of control, ruined streets, and no signs whatsoever of any other people.

  The scout on the tower had to go somewhere. Dad needed to pass through this ruin to get closer to the silver ball. She panned around the trees until she spotted the bizarre structure, then zoomed in. At this distance, the giant orb no longer appeared to be solid metal, rather thousands of triangular panels made of either plastic or fabric. The material, a light matte grey, didn’t throw off a blinding glare in the sun, more an iridescent shimmer. Something that moved like fabric but had the lustre of metal baffled her as well as intensified her curiosity. If aliens didn’t make that, it certainly came from before the Great Death when humanity still possessed advanced technology. Even more impressive, the inexplicable structure didn’t appear overgrown or in disrepair.

  Whatever they made it out of survived the poison.

  Unfortunately, being able to see only the upper third of the ball because of trees offered no information about the object’s purpose. On the other hand, she could find no traces of ferals or any ‘monsters’ moving around.

  The wild men have to use some form of language to communicate. Maybe the grunts? Do they have legends about these ruins? Ghost stories? Something must be scaring them away from the place. The one- and two-story buildings would still make better homes than whatever anyone could build out of branches and sticks.

  She spent a few minutes examining buildings up close. A sufficient quantity seemed intact enough—at least the exterior walls—that she decided to suggest this place to Noah if the silver ball turned out to be a flimsy curiosity and not an armored spaceship hull. Ferals had only fists and teeth, neither of which could knock down these buildings. The people of the Arc wouldn’t be vulnerable for weeks while they raced to construct above-ground shelters strong enough to withstand attack.

  However, this ruined city didn’t have windmill generators or any apparent water sources. It definitely lacked a hydroponic farm. Though plenty of land offered the promise of growing vegetables in the future, establishing a reliable source of food wouldn’t be quick. Someone would need to stay at the Arc to run the farms while other people transported vegetables back and forth on an almost three-day walk.

  This is a possibility. However, it’s stupid to go this far away. I’m going to insist we get the hell out of the Arc right away and build on the surface even if I have to drag Noah outside by his ear. Power, water, food, right there. We can handle a bunch of unarmed naked idiots. They’re less of a scare than whatever killed that deer.

  She let out a sigh and put the binoculars in her satchel before lowering herself over the wall. The metal patios gave off grinding, creaking, and rattling noises as she climbed down, refusing to stop wobbling. Intermittent clanks came from above and below, parts of the patios themselves or rivets falling to the ground. Regardless of what fell, she wanted to get the hell off it as fast as possible. She tried not to jostle things too much but perhaps rushed down the stairs a little too fast to be perfectly safe. At the lowest patio, she ignored the ladder entirely and dropped to hang off the edge by her fingertips, then let go, landing a short fall with only a minor stumble.

  Raven scooted around the corner to the front door, entering a small room containing an elevator, a hallway deeper into the building, a door labeled ‘stairs,’ and a large sign of text. The sign listed various items like dental office, law office, accountant, and ballet school, indicating each one next to a number, sorted by floor.

  “Guys?” called Raven.

  “In here!” Tinsley’s shout came from the hallway to the left of the elevator.

  Raven headed in that direction.

  Tinsley poked her head out of a doorway about three-quarters of the way down. “In here. Is the only place wifout holes inna roof.”

  Sienna and the other kids sat on the floor in a room with dozens of chairs all around the outer walls. The decayed mush of former print magazines sat on a low table in the middle. To her left, a large desk held three computer workstations and a sign asking patients to sign in. Sienna and the other kids stood around, flapping their ponchos as if trying to dry them. No one appeared to have anything on under them. Inside clothes and outer pants hung
draped from the backs of chairs around the room.

  “Did you see anything?” asked Sienna.

  “The city is empty. That silver ball is something I can’t even begin to expl—”

  Crash!

  The floor and walls shook in time with a tremendous jangle of clattering, screeching steel outside. Numerous thuds followed, no doubt pieces falling from the six stories above them, knocked loose by the impact.

  Raven almost fainted.

  The kids all covered their ears.

  That had to be the patios collapsing. Shaking from such a near death experience, Raven managed a feeble smile. “Guess I’m not climbing up to the roof again.”

  Sienna muttered something inaudible and ran over to hug her. “Don’t do anything like that again. What if it fell with you on it?”

  “Yeah…” She exhaled. “That would have been uncomfortable.”

  “Just a little.” Sienna poked her.

  “What’s with the laundry?” Raven gestured at all the stuff draped on chairs.

  “It’s not good to wear wet clothes so long, and really bad to sleep in them. The ponchos are a little damp, but loose so they shouldn’t be a problem,” said Sienna. “You should really let your inner clothes dry out. We’ve been sweating in them all day after it rained.”

  Raven couldn’t argue that. She took off the satchel and katana, set them on the floor, then removed her poncho, which she dropped next to her. Her inside shirt went well past being simply ‘damp’ and stuck to her like a second skin. She peeled it off, held it above a large flowerpot containing a plastic rhododendron and wrung it out before draping it over a chair back. Her boots came perilously close to disintegrating when she took them off, the combination of rain and days of hiking having ruined most of the old duct tape. Raven put her poncho back on before shedding her outer and inside pants in one combined shove. The sopping wet fabric gathered around her feet, clammy and unpleasant.

  The poncho’s dampness became more apparent against her bare skin, but, being the outer layer exposed to the wind, it had dried a lot more than her inside clothes or even pants. She hung her pants on empty chairs and, like everyone else, stood there flapping the poncho in hopes of drying it out faster.