We Forgotten

by Richard Dusk

  "These are iron bits and powder falling from the sky. We've got to hide right away. Come."

  "I want to leave. If it comes here, we'll be squeezed like oranges."

  "Where do you want to run in this? Breathing metal dust isn't the best way to survive. Anyway, those buildings may transfer anywhere," Garrett felt powerless, turned on the heel, and holding the wood walked inside the church.

  Jillian came in seconds after and watched him lighting the paper he tore out of a magazine.

  "Do you think it will ever stop?" she shut the door and helped Garrett to pile the branches on burning twigs.

  "No, it won't. It will accelerate. It's exponentially gaining strength!" he shouted, hearing himself in the echo and remained silent for a while. Then he continued calmly, "Whatever causes it, it's getting stronger every day. You may wake up tomorrow and see just the sky above you with church gone. Or you'll be lying in some shop, mall, or whatever the place will be. Probably dead. Or alive, dying crushed underneath. It's always yes or no, do or don't, live or die, and so on. Got it?"

  "Why did you save me then? If it's do or don't, why did you choose do?" she said, but Garrett didn't answer the question. He picked three cans out of the bag and slightly opened them.

  "You'll enjoy this. It's brussels sprouts in sauce," he sat by the fire and placed cans on the edge of the fire ring.

  Jillian didn't react. She still wanted to hear the answer. Garrett felt the demand she focused on him, and when he caught sight of her eyes fixed on him, he began to talk.

  "I didn't think about it the first time, and I certainly didn't plan to go along with somebody. It was just a reflex, you were in danger. But as I saw you later, it's because there is something in you that I knew very well once. You can't ask, 'Why did you save me?' and expect a simple answer. You are strong but delicate. If you were my daughter and somebody else would see what I saw when those wolves ran after you, I would beg anyone to help you no matter the price. But I wonder if you are happier being here now rather than lying there torn to pieces."

  Garrett took out Zack's empty pistol and held it against the light of the fire, but Jillian took it.

  "I don't know. It's strange to live when you know you could already be in a better place. No fear, no pain. Nothing," she weighted the gun in her hand. "Teach me how to shoot," she interrupted Garrett reaching for warm cans.

  "You don't know how to shoot?" said Garrett a little surprised. It was the first thing he learned after he had to set out on the road.

  "No, otherwise I wouldn't be asking."

  "Well, never point at anyone, mainly yourself, if you're not ready to shoot. That's the first rule. Even if your gun is empty, don't do it. Point to the ground all the time until you will be forced to use it. It has to become a habit. Okay?"

  "Got it," she nodded.

  "Hold the gun firmly, like this, and lay forefinger on the trigger," he showed her. "If you want to check the magazine, press this on the grip to release it."

  Jillian pressed the button, and the magazine fell out to the ground.

  "Next time, catch it. Dirt and dust may jam the spring. To empty the barrel, pull the slider to let one last bullet jump out and pull again to be sure. Now your gun is empty and safe. I've got no bullet to show you how to load it, but I'm sure you would handle it. Then you just slide the magazine inside the gun and pull the slider to load the bullet. The last thing is safety," he pointed to a small lever. "If you see a red dot in here, the gun is hot and ready to fire. If you see a white one, safety is on. And that's the basics you need to know. Now you can shoot."

  "Thank you, man," she put the gun in her jacket pocket.

  "I didn't say you can keep it," he reached to take it from her.

  "This one isn't yours," she blocked his hand. "You took it. Same as I did now."

  Tyke, he thought and looked at the waves on soup's surface caused by falling buildings.

  "Which one do you want?"

  "You really don't want anything in return?" she watched Garrett shook head. "Well, then anything but that green thingy," she looked at the can in disgust.

  As they were eating the first food of the day and listening to booming resounding in the air, Jillian suddenly cut through the silence.

  "I want to know. Where are we going?"

  Garrett, chewing full mouth of green vegetable, swallowed and stirred the content of can.

  "Heh, you said on the other side of the hill that you won't ask until we get there."

  "You see, the world is going to hell, and you said that we might die just because of nickel. You know a place, and I want to reach it with or without you if I have to."

  Garrett took out the map and spread it on the ground between them.

  "It's an underground laboratory. Well, more a military base to be honest. It's a vast complex buried inside the mountain and beneath it. We're heading to the back entrance that is not as much deep in the woods as the main one on the other side. When you go off the road and enter the forest road, you will reach metal doors embedded in the mountain rock. There used to be soldiers outside, but they are all probably hidden now. You just stand at the door and wait. Cameras will spot you before you come closer than five hundred yards."

  "Why do you believe they are still there? They could run away months ago, and you may be chasing ghosts."

  "It's the most reasonable place where to hide, and I've got a feeling that I have to get there. Trust me. In events like this, you won't find safer shelter. I visited it several times when they asked me to develop a few more applications utilizing Ocrosir. It runs deep underground and is entirely self-sufficient with no requirements from the world outside. Energy and heat are geothermal, water is pumped from subterranean rivers flowing deep in the ground. Air is recycled and flows through sets of high active filters. They have the cleanest air on this planet. It's possible to outlast there at least eight years with full staff capacity after the food supply cut off.

  The whole base was projected to withstand stronger earthquakes than were ever measured. Its main core floats in a water capsule and levels are connected by movable joints. That is what makes it resistant. Floors had design according to the research divisions. White holes, mind uploading, parallel universe collision, teleportation, and extraterrestrial exploration, of course, they preferred," he said ardently. "They also performed extensive genetics and nanobiotechnology projects. In one up-and-coming research, they embarked on a project of nanorobots used for nerve system substitution. They simply grew artificial neurons on a medium by inducing premature stem cell differentiation and then used nanorobots to implant these long fibers from the spinal cord down to peripheral nerves. It gave the impression of cyborg development," he smiled faintly.

  "Garrett, thumbs up for your enthusiasm, but consider my presence, please," she tilted head to the side, sardonically winking at him.

  "Doctor Hikls will explain anything you ask him. It's easy to simplify what I've said."

  "Yeah, but I don't care who he is till I find out he's still alive and not slobbering on his shirt," she scratched the bottom of the can with the spoon.

  It was uneasy for Garrett to hear these words. His belief gradually grew over months in a way that his mind blocked out thoughts like these, and now Jillian managed to knock it down in a second. It weakened his will to go on, but he kept a poker face and finished the meal. The intensity of ground vibrations grew stronger, and Garrett stood up to peek outside.

  "Look at that. Cover your nose, and don't breathe too much."

  Jillian strode to him into the weak light. Buildings already reached the edge of the slope, and the valley began filling up with piling rubble. Rising dust and raining iron impeded even more the little amount of sunlight to reach the ground.

  "I've got it," he said thoughtfully. "Everything that contains a slight piece of metal can transpose, appear, disappear, or whatever else. Those buildings over there, this church, iron rain, and that box out there. Everything," said Garrett, but not entirely s
ure. "That would explain the iron rain. I've never seen a plastic one."

  "Yeah. What about earthquakes and storms?"

  "I don't know. I've spent too much time thinking about it, and this is the first time when I realized something new," he stood there for a while, watching rows of buildings appear, sink into the hillside, topple over, and tear down the trees on their way to the bottom. "It won't come here. It's happening for too long and will be over soon. It has to," he got back in the church, sat by the fire, and took out his jotter as he needed to reply to words that began flooding his mind.

  Jillian watched him from the door and unnoticeably walked behind his back.

  "What is it?" she aimed to snatch the jotter from Garrett's hands while he leafed to the last written page. He blocked and held her hand.

  "That's personal. Just for my eyes," he turned it away from Jillian.

  The jotter was more than personal to him. It became a piece of him – leaves that described the mind of a man who lost everything but false hope. The only moments when he could pour emotions out of him on a lifeless piece of paper for a price of feeling the presence of his demon.

  "Okay, okay," she calmed him in surprise. "I'm not in a mood for reading anyway," she said happily because she didn't expect Garrett to be apprehensive about some writing. She unrolled her sleeping bag and slid inside with her clothes on. "Why are you writing it anyway?"

  "Because when you say or write something, it becomes real."

  "Well," she rose eyebrows, "if you say so. I'm gonna shut my eyes for a while. Maybe that madness outside will stop."

  "Didn't you sleep enough last night?"

  "No, I pretended it," she yawned. "I stayed up all the time, waiting for the moment when you'll try to strangle me. But when you sat at my feet and I saw your head fell down, I decided to rest a bit. I closed eyes for a minute, but shortly after, I heard coughing and had to kick your leg. With you two in the shack, I couldn't shut my eyes at all."

  "Yeah, I couldn't sleep too. It felt strange to have somebody around. Moreover, when I knew you will be leaving in the morning with that moron."

  "So if you care so much, why did you let me go when you knew what will happen? He could shoot me anytime," she flared.

  "Yes, he could, and he tried with the empty gun, but I didn't let you go. I followed you to see what he was after. I didn't trust him a bit, but what if he was telling the truth? There would be a second option where to go if my plan fails."

  "So I was bait or what? You wanted to find out what he was after and then decide whether it suits you?"

  "No, you weren't," he sighed. "Look, I didn't force you to go, and you wouldn't be listening to me yesterday, so I let you find out for yourself. I followed you too close to miss anything. If you feel I screwed it, I'm sorry, that was not the plan, and you decided to go. So don't make me responsible for this."

  "You didn't screw it, I just. I…" she sat bewildered with his actions and her reaction. "Garrett, ehm, thank you," she said humbly after a while and lay down. "It's been a year, and I still didn't get used to this life as much as it requires. I don't know where to go or what to do. I can't make new friends and stick with them. People are mad, and surviving alone is not a piece of cake. Zack had something to offer even though he lied. I let myself misled because I knew him, and I knew Emma. A few hours passed since I met you, and look at what we went through. Now buildings are appearing outside and crushing everything beneath in a never-ending cycle."

  "Yeah, there is nowhere to go. Everyone fights for himself. Army and emergency centers are no longer operative. But for now, we're good. The appearances prolonged, so they will disappear soon."

  "Whatever. I need to shut my eyes for a while. You seem not to…" she deeply breathed in and paused. Garrett, uncertain about the rest, silently waited. "You seem not to be willing to hurt me, but if you will, then wake me. I want to be ready for it."

  "What the hell are talking about?"

  "I just don't know you."

  "Neither do I know you," said Garrett seriously. He wanted her to trust him because they both may be at risk this way. "Look, I don't believe in the world and people outside because it took away the best from me. I don't believe in killing - it's pointless. We can do better than that. I had a daughter, and I lost her only because someone decided to be it that way. I'm no danger to you. I'm no danger to anyone unless I have to."

  "But I'm nothing to you. We're not family, we're not friends."

  "Does it matter these days?"

  "No, I guess not," she closed eyes. "If anything happens, wake me up."

  "Sure, I will."

  Jillian, lying on the back and covering her eyes with the right arm, enjoyed a bit of comfort that sleeping bag offered. Garrett didn't plan to wake her up at all. They needed to sleep and conserve energy. Who knew what was ahead? He listed the last sentence and sharpened the blunt pencil with his knife. Staying awake the entire night, keeping an eye on both of them, finally showed its effects and made his hands and body shake. His mind spun around all the events that happened with Jillian entering his life and world falling into pieces more than ever before. Garrett sharpened the pencil to the length of his thumb till he got back from musing.

  "Well done, Garrett," he praised himself with annoyance, put down the knife, and began to write.

  I envy dead ones. I do. I'd like to be one of them. Why? Are you pulling my leg? They are gone. Away. They don't know. They don't feel. Ice cold nothingness is their reality. It matters them not. Would you choose to live my life? Nah, I know you wouldn't. You just wander into my mind every time and infect it like a virus with thoughts destroying me. You like it, don't you? You like to see... No. No, you don't just like it. You love it. You love to see me suffer. You love to watch the way I strive to cope with it, but you always come back to remind me of everything. Who I'm, what I did. As if I could ever forget.

  There is a strange spark in your eyes and an odd smile on your face. Why? Because of her? You did find something, didn't you? And want to use her somehow, right? I'm not surprised. You're not human, and you have never been because you're not able to love. You know only your wants and desires. I locked you out, and I will burn you to the ash. I've made a stupid mistake when I made peace with you, but I'll never make the same one again. Never!

  Garrett pressed hard, making a circle to create a large dot at the end of his short writing and mended the fire with more wood. The fire crackled and filled the church with light. Noise coming from outside subsided, and the subtle sound of dense, tiny, metal specks rain falling on the roof accompanied Garrett's mind. He sat there depressed, assuring himself to go on with Jillian by his side, but his brain was too tired to make any rational decision. Exhaustion inconspicuously reached his eyes, and he fell asleep before he slid down to the ground. Church went silent, and the wind blew quietly through windows on the belfry.

  Chapter 07 "Jillian."

  The terrifying rumbling resounded for the rest of the day and night and ceased only when the sun rays of new day's dawn appeared. Bridge and the city from which they came were gone. There left nothing reminding its former shape and complexity, and high piles of debris came down like an avalanche filling the valley. A different, strange silence spread through the world as if all movement of every molecule ceased forever. Garrett lay on the cold ground next to the wooden ash of the died out fire, and for the first time after many months, he had a peaceful and dreamless sleep.

  "Garrett, wake up," Jillian jiggled him. "Come on, wake up," she jiggled him again and rushed to the door.

  "What is it?" he jolted awake, sleepy but alarmed.

  Jillian stopped at the door and carefully opened it. Iron hinges screeched, and intense light flooded the church. Garrett immediately covered his scratchy eyes that he barely kept open and squinted to see at least a bit.

  "What are you doing? Shut the door."

  "It's snowing."

  Garrett stood up from the ground, and rubbing his eyes, he walked towards beami
ng Jillian.

  "Blimey," he stared in disbelief.

  She didn't lie. Three inches thick white layer glistened in the light of morning sunshine, and more will definitely come. Just a few hours ago, they sheltered from iron dust rain falling from the sky, and now it's all hidden under fresh, crunchy graupel. The temperature dropped below zero, but the air felt the warmest of this month. The sky turned dark blue, and zooming, gray-colored, puffy, snow clouds quickly took away the sunlight. They looked like tied to invisible ropes and dragged above the church by someone's will.

  Garrett deeply breathed in and immediately recognized the scent of winter air, which he could never get enough. He loved winter over all other seasons his entire life. It was the only time of the year when that little boy living in far depths inside of a grown man got alive and came out to enjoy the world. But the child's joy filling Garrett's heart didn't come this time. The snow became an inconvenience, and the last thing he did expect rather than a source of happiness. Not only because it didn't rain for weeks and he saw snow a long time ago, but mainly because they weren't prepared for it. Their worn clothes will get wet sooner or later, and any sleeping outside is now definitely out of the question. The weather looked ideal, tempting to set out on the road, but if a blizzard occurs, it may be the last thing they will ever have to deal with. Jillian didn't let him worry her and walked outside.

  "Come and help me," she began rolling the first snowball. Crystal white at first turned quickly to orange-red.

  "I hate my fingers cold," he shouted to her and couldn't understand how she can be building a snowman. The whiteness of snow hid all the devastation, so the world looked less hostile, but it didn't wake up any positive feelings inside him. "And I don't want an iron splinter stuck in them," he added and began packing his stuff.