He smiled. “The people didn’t fly by themselves, boy. They’d sit in long metal tubes and the tubes would do the flying,” he said. “The tubes carried bombs and dropped them on the people they were fighting. That made the blasts and created the Zones all over the world. There were also rockets.” He paused. “Those are tubes that zoom through the air without people, like the one in the gray room.”
I noticed Gran’father fingered the key, again. He always did that when he talked about his memories.
“They’d smash into a target and explode,” he said.
I’d laugh at these silly stories of flying tubes that had people in them.
“That’s how your father and mother were killed,” he said, and shook his head. “They blasted the other people, but the others blasted them too. You were only a little baby when they died.” He looked up at the ceiling like there was something there, but I couldn’t see anything special. Then he put his arms in front of him like he was carrying something. “This is how I held you in my arms when you were a baby and I took you down here into the bunker.”
I smiled at that. We don’t have many babies here, but I had seen some little ones. Some of them died, but a few grew up like me. It’s mostly the girls who do the baby caring, not the boys. The girls stay in a separate part of the bunker and don’t get to go outside much. Something about protecting their inside parts. I don’t really know what that means but Gran’father said I’ll find out after I get back from my Walking. Then, after the Walking ceremony, I have to stay with one of them for a while.
“There were many blasts,” said Gran’father. “They were radioactive.”
“What’s radioactive?”
“If you went near it you could get sick and die. The radioactivity made you sick. Sometimes it would even change the way people looked.”
“What does radioactivity look like?”
“You can’t see it,” he said. “You just can’t stay near it for long.”
“How did you know it was there if you can’t see it?”
“It’s like poisoned air. You know that some water holes have bad water? Well, some air is also bad and it’ll kill you if you stay near it too long. Everyone had instruments to measure if we were near it.” He held out his hand like he was holding something in it, moved it slowly from side to side, and clicked his tongue.
I shook my head. I can see bad water, but I can’t see radioactive air. I didn’t say anything.
“That’s why we don’t see any birds or other animals,” he said. “The radioactivity killed them. Thank heaven there’s not much of it anymore, especially in the Zone.”
I’d heard stories and seen pictures of birds flying in the sky.
“Birds are like beetles,” he explained. “They have wings and can fly, but the birds were friendly and there were a lot of them. The beetles are the only things that survived the blast besides us, and we survived only because we hid underground for many years. Some animals survived for a while because they were underground, but eventually they, too, died from radioactivity or starvation.”
“How would they get radioactivity if they lived underground?”
“They got their food from the surface, so they’d have to go up and try and find some.”
He shook his head slowly like he was thinking of his memories, and I looked at his beard, wondering if any bits of dirt would fall out.
“So in order to find food,” he continued, “they’d have to stay out longer and longer. Remember, the blasts killed everything, including the food they needed.”
Gran’father has so many great stories. Sometimes they’d make me laugh, but I learned not to laugh too much when he was telling them. He didn’t seem to like it when I didn’t believe his stories.
When the darkness came I laid down and slept. It wasn’t a good sleep because I was anxious and excited about my Walking in the morning. When I dozed, I had a dream where a beetle found me and I had to fight it and it cut me up into little pieces.
In the morning I woke early and swallowed my breakfast pill. I put one water container and one food bar in my pack. The food bar had three food pills in it–enough for one full day. That was all I was allowed to take.
Gran’father was sitting there and watched me when I woke up and took the pill. He wasn’t smiling…none of the old men did when one of us young ones went on a Walking.
I left at the first opening of the doors after hugging Gran’father and walked through the long tunnel into the open. The sun wasn’t very hot yet and I was comfortable. I walked down the hill for about two times until I came to the Zone’s outer limit. By now the bright sun blasted down, and the Zone landscape looked the same everywhere–white powder, like ash from a fire, covered everything. It was a scene of total devastation as far as I could see. White rocks littered the white earth. After I walked for another time in the Zone I came upon a large mass of rubble and decided to explore it. This was what Gran’father said to look for: an a-part-ment. I pulled rocks off a large pile, digging deep into it. I enjoyed the cool ground under the rocks and found a long piece of shiny metal about an arm’s length long. It was hollow with a flat end and a short groove along one edge. I stuck it in my pack. Maybe Gran’father could tell me what it was.
Pulling more rocks away, I found two small, shiny pieces of metal. Brushing the dirt away I stared at them, trying to understand what they were. One said “cold,” but it wasn’t cold; the other said “hot,” but it wasn’t hot. They were both only cool from being buried. I put them into my pack. Maybe Gran’father would know what these were. They were probably in his memories, somewhere.
I continued to pull rocks away when I saw movement to my left and glimpsed a black beetle slowly walking. It was huge, just like I had been told. It had a clumsy walk, more like a stumble, but I knew they were dangerous. I bent low hoping he didn’t see me.
I waited until he walked past me, then hurried further into the Zone to avoid him. I thought about how many times I had been there. The sun was high overhead and very hot, and I wondered if I would ever understand Gran’father. “You put the sun on your wrist to tell how long you were out,” he said. Jeez.
I walked on the rubble heap for about one more time and stopped at another large pile of rubble. The sun beat down on me but my back scales fanned me to keep me cool. Gran’father didn’t have scales, but I guess that was because he was so old and he lost his. I supposed I’d lose mine, too, when I got that old.
I stopped and swallowed some water. The water was in an unusual container. Gran’father said you press the top and it goes “foof.” That tells you that the water is fresh and the top is open so you could drink. I laughed at that. I did it now and it went “foof.” It was so funny, but I was glad the water was cool.
I continued rummaging through the rocks, looking for something new to take back in addition to what I already had. I found a larger piece of glass–a mirror–that showed my eyes and face and put it in my pack. Then I saw it off to the side: mostly buried in the dirt, one corner sticking out. It looked like the big white box that Gran’father had talked about.
I dug around it for a while so I could get it free. It was just like Gran’father had said; a box that keeps food cold. I got some more of the box free and dropped to my knees to dig all of it out. I worked at freeing it for at least one sun time. I was getting really warm. My scales could only do so much to keep me cool, but soon the box stood in front of me. A pull was on the front. I grasped it and it swung open just like a door. I wanted to see the food in it. There were two compartments: a big one on top and a smaller one below it, but I couldn’t see how either one kept food cold. Gran’father said that insulation kept the cold inside and you could even get ice from it, but I couldn’t find any place in it that kept cold inside and there wasn’t any ice. And there wasn’t any food in it.
I know about ice. My friend, who did his Walking to the Mountain, told me that ice was all over. “Ice was like a very cold rock that changes to water when it get
s warm, but it happens slowly.” I couldn’t think why Gran’father would want to put rocks that change to water in a box like this. Since I was doing my Walking in the Zone, I had to wait two seasons before I could go on a Mountain Walking.
I had finished the digging when I heard a noise and turned. Two black beetles, their shiny, black armor-plated bodies trimmed with red, were walking toward me. I became scared and backed away. I didn’t want to fight two of them.
Their brightly grouped eyes followed me, and their long legs clicked on the hard rocks as they moved, their pincers opening and closing. I watched their mouths move like they were talking. It was bad enough having to fight one beetle, but now I had two of them. I picked up a rock and held it over my head to threaten them, but they continued coming.
I aimed carefully at the nearest one and threw. The rock glanced off him but all he did was unfluff his body plate and refold it. I picked up another rock, this time a larger one, and climbed higher on the rubble. Using two hands, I held the rock over my head and smashed it down onto one, hitting him directly on top. He collapsed, then slowly stood on his rear legs and smoothed himself out. One of his legs was broken and he left it behind. I noticed that he now leaned to his right and his top body armor plate dragged as he clicked along toward me, but he was moving a little slower.
“The beetles move slowly,” Gran’father had said, “because their armor is so heavy, but don’t be fooled, they are very strong and when they decide to fly they are even more dangerous than when they crawl.”
Another rock and another smash. The beetles were tough, I gave them that, but I didn’t want to be shredded by two stupid beetles. At least I hoped I wouldn’t be. They slowly scratched their way up the rubble pile I was on. As soon as one reached the top of a flat rock I smashed a large rock down hard on him. Green matter oozed from him. He was hurt but he still came, dragging several body plates. I leapt from pile to pile but they continued to come after me, the wounded one moving much slower, leaving a trail of green slime.
I’d hit the other beetle several times but now he flexed his wings, probably getting ready to fly when he thought I was unable to defend myself. They didn’t fly much because they are so heavy, and they didn’t stay in the air for very long, but once in the air they were very dangerous. I threw more rocks, hitting each of them but not stopping them. The mostly unhurt one again flexed his wings again, and with a buzz of noise, leapt at me. He came so close I could hear a swoosh as he flew by. I ducked, but I was really worried. Even though he was wounded, the beetle on the ground continued toward me. I ducked to avoid the flying beetle, knowing eventually he’d catch me and his slicers would cut deep.
I jumped down from the pile I was on, ran behind the slow-moving wounded beetle, picked up a large rock and smashed it hard on him before he could turn around. More green matter spluttered out and he struggled to free himself from under the rock. I dodged as the flying beetle spun by my head and came close enough to slice my cheek, just missing my eye. His slicer was so sharp I didn’t feel the cut for several seconds. I could hear him screech, enjoying the taste of my blood as he prepared to fly at me again.
Beetle, beetle, is outside. Hurry away, you can’t hide.
I took the metal rod out of my pack, thinking I’d use it as a club. When the beetle flew by I swung at him, but missed. He cut me again as he flew by, this time on my head. It hurt so much I fell to one knee. I was really worried. He circled for another attack. This time he flew straight at me, heading directly toward my face, his pincers and slicers sticking straight out ready for the kill.
I held the metal rod out in front of me, pointing it directly at the beetle’s open mouth. If I missed, I would be sliced again and much deeper. It screeched as it came close and flew onto the metal and impaled itself. The force almost knocked me down. I heard it screech as it flapped its armored wings trying to remove itself from the metal rod. I set the beetle down on its back. Its legs waved as it struggled to right itself. I quickly hefted a large rock and smashed it onto his lightly armored underside. Green matter squished from him. I let him die before I pulled my metal spear out. It took me a minute to rip off his armored shell and put it into my pack to show Gran’father. I did it with the other one, too. I was breathing heavy and still very scared, but although I won the fight, I didn’t feel so confident anymore. My blood dripped all over me.
My heart almost stopped when a third beetle appeared and stared at me, but decided to head to the dead beetles and devour them. I could hear him sloshing up the remains. I thought about fighting it but decided it was better to get away because the scent from my blood would only attract more beetles.
I hurried back to the white box and ran my fingers over it, letting the long fingers on top of my wrists feel it also. These fingers were very sensitive. Gran’father would want to know what it felt like. Smooth and cool, although now, where the sun hit it, it was warm.
I’d accomplished my Walking goal: to kill a beetle. I got two of them and had their armor as proof, so I thought I’d better head back. I was bloody and tired. I wiped the blood from my face before it ran into my eyes. I lost track of how many times had passed and also lost my direction. Gran’father said if I got lost to criss-cross the path I was on, not continue along it. That way it would be easier to find the right path I needed to find my way home. Gran’father had said to watch the sun. It would be behind me going to the Zone and behind me coming back. I turned to the right and walked for about a half time, then turned and walked in the other direction. My scales expanded and fanned to their limit to protect me from the heat of the sun. Even though the sun was setting, soon it would be dark and then the cold would come. My scales couldn’t protect me from the cold. Without protection from the cold, I could die.
I saw hills and headed for them only to be disappointed by their barrenness. Everything was coated with white dust: the rocks, the rubble, and the ground. My eyes hurt from so much white. Gran’father said it was because of the blasts. The blasts killed everything, burned everything. He used the word “desolate.” I began to understand what that meant.
I headed toward a large pile of rubble that might be able to shield me from the cold wind of night and keep the beetles from finding me. The temperature was dropping fast and a chill had set in. My scales were closed tight now to keep in what heat I had but I began to shiver. I was afraid I would die if it got too cold.
I moved rocks to make a lying place, hoping the rocks had stored enough heat to see me through the night, when off to the left I saw what looked like another white box. I ran over and hurriedly dug it out. This one had a moveable front like the other one, just like Gran’father said, but it was larger than the other one. I pulled it open and looked in. There wasn’t any food in this one either. Gran’father said food would be put inside and when the door was closed the food would be kept cold. Why didn’t they just leave the food outside in the cold?
I went back to my lying place and began to cover myself with warm rocks when I heard clicking noises. Sometimes the beetles prowled at night. They probably sensed my dried blood and would try to dig me out. I couldn’t stay awake all night fighting them and the cold. The only thing I could think of was the white box. Maybe if I hid in it the beetles wouldn’t get me and I could outlast the cold.
I climbed inside, curled up, and pulled the door closed. It was a tight fit and very uncomfortable because I had to curl my tail, which didn’t like being curled and ached all the time in the box. I thought it would get cold inside but it didn’t. I couldn’t understand why Gran’father said it got cold inside when you closed the door, but I was glad this one wasn’t cold.
I could hear beetles scratching on the box and I was very scared because they might open the door, but they never figured out how to do it. After a while, they gave up and went away. I ate one of my food pills, and as uncomfortable as I was, it made me feel better. I think I dozed during the night. Finally, when I thought about twelve times had passed, I peeked out and saw the sun
and felt its early warmth. Maybe someday I could come back and take this white box back for Gran’father. It had saved my life.
I was tired and hungry and swallowed my breakfast pill. My muscles ached from the cramped position I was in all night. I had to be careful now, because I only had one food pill left. It wouldn’t be long before I’d be hungry again. Once my food bar was gone my tail would start to shrink as my stored food supply got used up and my stored water would be gone. I had to get back to the bunker. Blood had caked on my face and I needed to wash it off so it wouldn’t attract the beetles.
I spent several times searching for the path home. I was becoming exhausted from the effort and getting depressed that I’d never find my way back and the sun was beginning to set again. I wasn’t supposed to stay out in the Zone this long. I’d walked so far that there were no more piles with white boxes I could crawl into and no protection from the cold or the beetles. Desolate.
Then I saw one of my rock piles. It gave me new energy and lifted my spirits. All I had to do was follow it back to the bunker.
I’d been walking for many times and the darkness came quickly. It brought with it a quick drop in temperature. I had to hurry or I would die. I was getting weaker and approaching exhaustion, but I kept walking. I had to get back to the bunker…there was no other alternative.
In the distance I saw a small yellow light flickering–a fire. They had kept a fire for me. I yelled for Gran’father and ran, finally seeing the bunker. I could see Gran’father waving to me, his arms outstretched, reaching for me.
He held me close. “You had me worried, boy. When you didn’t return yesterday, I thought you were lost or killed by the beetles.”
“I got lost, Gran’father.”
“Didn’t you make marks on the ground like I told you?”
“I made some, but forgot to make more and got lost, but I did what you said and crossed back and forth until I found the markers”
“Good for you. I’m glad you’re back, boy. You’re all bloody.” He looked me over. “What happened to your cheek and your head?”
Young Adventurers Page 16
