Love at the End of the World Page 29

  “Yes, I did. Thank you.”

  They stood over the dead man together, but it was too dark to see his facial features.

  The next morning Greyson and Infinity buried the man, who was now covered in flies. They didn’t know his name. He was thin and malnourished. He looked old, but he was their age. Greyson thought he resembled the man who had ripped apart a fur ball. Greyson slung an arm around Infinity. She still favored her arm.

  As soon as they returned home Greyson began to gather rocks and bring them into the cave. Infinity hauled wood to make a door for their cave. Greyson sat down with the large piece of wood he had used to kill the man. There were other sticks poking from it. He began to sharpen the ends.

  “What are you doing?” Infinity asked.

  “I’m making weapons to protect us.”

  “Weapons?”

  “The man should have asked.”

  “Do you think there will be others who won’t ask?”

  “Yes.”

  “I never thought we would hunt people.”

  “We won’t hunt people, but we will defend ourselves. Gather more sticks for the fire, please. I can throw those too if I have to.”

  A sudden explosion sent them flying. Infinity fell to the ground screaming. Greyson raced to her. The ground rumbled beneath them. Outside grew dark as black thunder clouds rolled in. His heart was pounding. Fearfully, he wondered if the Superiors were watching and were angry he had killed. The man had hurt Infinity, perhaps that made them angry.

  “Greyson, it’s like we were in the pods all over again. An explosion. The ground shaking. Does that mean the Superiors are back?”

  “I don’t know, but it’s quiet now.”

  “Why does everything seem different? Outside looks so angry.”

  “I don’t know, but I feel it too. Maybe we should sleep. Everything might seem better in the morning.”

  They made a bed of the cows’ hides and added the many little hides they caught and killed for food first. Even the tiniest of squirrels had come in handy as their slippers were useless and were replaced. Infinity remembered sewing with her grandmother. The needles she made with bone and thorns were good for making clothing. Their old clothes were rags. It was warmer covered in the coats of animals. Infinity had made clothes for Greyson—pants and a shirt. He wore the coat of a cow. After he killed the cow, they had butchered the meat, and Infinity scraped the hide. She didn’t like any particles sticking to their new clothing. She had rinsed the hides in water to wash them. They were rough and stiffened at times but better suited to their environment, and he was happy she was so intelligent.

  Greyson crept to the cave entrance and stared out. Night was coming and all seemed still. The air grew cold. Greyson placed a fur across the door Infinity had made with long sticks. He kept an opening because their fire liked air. Greyson wasn’t so certain the fire was a living being, but they treated it with respect. It cooked their food and kept them warm. Two essentials in their strange new world. Furs were strewn everywhere. Both were adept at hunting.

  Infinity was shivering when he crept into the furs beside her. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her forehead. He knew she was afraid; he was too. For a moment he worried something might happen that he couldn’t protect her from. They lay down wrapped in one another’s arms and whispered words of encouragement to each other, hugging until they slept.

  * * * *

  The next morning snow was falling. Beautiful sheets of white coated the land before her. Infinity shivered. She went outside to touch the phenomenon. She cupped a handful, enjoying the sensation it caused. The texture changed to water when held. It was cold when she brought it to her lips for a taste.

  There was a growing amount as the sky plundered their area with the whiteness, and she grabbed some wooden bowls they carved and filled them with the substance. She dropped hot rocks into the snow and watched it melt. The cold wasn’t a good thing but the water, when warm, washed her body well, and she didn’t need to go to the tiny stream for a bath.

  Refreshed, she went back to their bed. Greyson was stirring. He yawned lazily and stretched.

  “You look so clean,” he said.

  “There is snow outside.”

  Greyson whooped and, naked, raced out the door. Infinity ran after him. He was dancing in the snow, rubbing it all over him. Washing in the frigidness of the morning. Infinity laughed at his antics. He was like a child with a new toy.

  “I warmed water for you to wash, silly,” she told him.

  Greyson stopped moving. “But this is snow. Snow. I loved to watch it fall from the calming scenes, and here it is.”

  “The snow melts into water.”

  “Oh, how wonderful. With all this snow we can bathe all the time.”

  “Come inside and sit by the fire. The snow is coming down harder. We won’t be able to hunt. We can’t see very far.”

  “I never thought of that.” His expression turned to worry, and she was sorry; he had been so excited.

  “We have food. It’s no problem,” she said with a light air.

  Infinity warmed up their stew from the previous night and handed him a bowl with a fake smile. She was worried. If they couldn’t hunt, they would go hungry. Greyson took his meal and seemed thoughtful.

  “Why do you think it snowed?” she asked. “I know you might not know, I just wanted to see if you had any thoughts.”

  “Maybe the explosion made it snow. I vaguely recall being told of seasons and change. I wonder if there will be a loud boom to announce when the weather will change. Like an introduction.”

  Infinity shivered. “I hope not. Two big bangs were enough in a lifetime.”

  “I agree. It’s dark out still. Not too dark, but I wish the sun would grow brighter.”

  To their dismay the nights grew longer until they wondered if the sun would ever shine. Hunting was proving to be difficult. The Earth had changed. Snow continued to fall. As the weeks went by their bodies grew thin. The tiger refused to share kills more often. Greyson suggested they kill the tiger after he brought something down, but Infinity refused. The tiger was thin as well. So were the other animals. It seemed snow hated all creatures equally.

  Foraging was difficult. The rocks and deadfall froze to the ground. In desperation, Infinity dug out inner bark from trees. She had seen other animals eat the softer insides. The bark had to be cooked. When she left some out overnight it formed a gelatinous mass. She roasted the substance and pounded the remains. After adding water she formed little cakes of flatbread, which she decided she liked very much.

  Spending time outside watching the few remaining animals, they took a cue and dug under the snow, finding greenery. Tasting the exciting find, Infinity detected garlic mustard. Fresh and green. Another outstanding find was wild garlic, which she put in stews, adding leeched acorns to the mix. The snow appeared to be a blanket for many different things.

  On rare occasions they made strange discoveries of interesting objects. The round, hollow things were a favorite. The silver containers held water well when cooked in the fire. They made noise when banged together. This was particularly handy when the tiger refused to share. Though it was stealing, the couple helped themselves to a few kills when desperate.

  They speculated for hours about the outside world and what had happened. Their grandparents had hinted they were from this place and had moved to the Superiors’ area during their later years, and of course, their children had moved with them. When more children were born the Superiors grew stronger and more controlling. The older generations didn’t want to be told what to do and when to do it. They became increasingly rebellious, teaching their grandchildren things in secret.

  Late one evening, after sharing their pleasures, Greyson told Infinity they needed to leave their cave and move on. They needed to see if other areas were spared the destruction and dying foliage. They decided the best time would be when the snow melted. They couldn’t be in the open in a snowstorm. Also, there was
the concern of what to do about the fire.

  Infinity lay quietly as she listened to Greyson’s sleep noises. She wondered how they had managed to survive. They had seen no other since the attack. She pulled out a round, small object she’d hid from Greyson. She would show it to him later, but for now she studied it. It was dirty and rusty. There were four words on the back. Infinity knew what it said. She discovered she could read. She flipped the metal piece over.

  Resist, fight for freedom.

  What kind of a world had their elders come from? Three of those words were not allowed to be spoken—resist, fight, and freedom. She whispered them aloud. Greyson stirred, and she tucked her treasure under the fur. Was this freedom? It was scary and enlightening. She was cold and hungry at times. But she answered to no one, not even Greyson.

  Infinity rolled to snuggle at Greyson’s back. The fire crackled. She was safe, safer than in her old pod. She gained the most powerful tool in survival—knowledge.

  * * * *

  “What is it?” Infinity asked.

  Both she and Greyson stared at a large, flowing body of water. After the snow melted and the sun returned they had to venture farther to find food, both animal and vegetable. The idea to leave their cave and go farther had been a hard decision. But luck was on their side. Farther afield seemed less affected by the big boom, which clearly made the destruction.

  “I don’t know what it is,” Greyson replied. “I mean, it’s obviously water, but why is it in such a hurry? What does it run from?”

  They moved cautiously forward. In a clearing a rock basin had captured a large puddle. Infinity peered in. She cocked her head.

  “Wow, I look different.”

  Greyson joined her. “So do I. I didn’t realize I had so much fur on my face. I wonder if it can be scraped off. I’m not sure I like it.”

  “You look fine to me.” It was true. She didn’t mind his furry face but thought when it warmed up he might be uncomfortable. She would help him if he insisted on removing it.

  “This is definitely water, but I’ve never seen so much. We better wash, because we both stink.” He settled his heavy pack on the ground as did she.

  “Gee, thanks.”

  Greyson grinned and winked at her. She liked his flirting. The word came to her like so many more had done. She didn’t question; she knew the term was correct.

  A froth caught her eye, and she went closer to the fast-moving water.

  “Where are you going?” Greyson called.

  “Just over here. To the bubbles. A plant must make some kind of soap.”

  Infinity strained down, but in order to reach the froth she had to move closer to the river. Her heel skid and down she went. Her splash was loud, and she came up sputtering. She screamed as she was dragged away.

  Greyson was running wildly on the bank, screaming, “You better come back and take care of me.”

  As terrified as she was she would have liked to bellow back she was sorry for the inconvenience. It wasn’t as though she had a choice. She had never in her life been immersed in water...or had she? All at once, memories crashed over her. She was no more than four or five when her nana took her to a secret pond away from the watchful eyes of the Superiors. There weren’t as many back then.

  She wondered how old she was now, and she wondered how her arms knew to paddle and her legs to kick. A tree came close enough that she was able to grab onto it and pull herself out of the water. She sat there on the bank shivering.

  After they were caught at the pond she never saw her nana again. The pond dried up the next day. The Superiors bathed them with numerous hands in stalls, insisting water could be a danger. Based on that, her nana had endangered her. They dried their children and clothed them, then robots tucked them into pods.

  Her entire family was gone, disappeared overnight. But the Superiors told her they were her family. They loved her and would provide everything for her. All they asked in return was to forget anything taught to them by a human. But it appeared a human, her nana, had saved her life by defying the Superiors.

  A terrible realization took over. The Superiors must have killed her family and all the other adults, along with every child over the age of six and the ones under the age of four. All of the ones left were near the same age, none younger. Maybe four or five. Her brother had been seven, and he was gone. The counting words came at her faster. And so did those first few months. All of the children had cried. Her pairing with Greyson was enforced. All of the children were separated into pairs.

  They were old enough to do certain things—they were out of diapers, they could talk, and so forth. The children at that age were so impressionable. The Superiors took charge of everything. When they ate, when they slept. But as the humans grew older they began to remember certain things. The Superiors couldn’t wipe their minds completely clean.

  When Greyson caught up to her he pulled her into his arms and checked her over.

  “I can swim, Greyson. Nana taught me in secret, and the Superiors took her away. And I can count. I bet you can too, you just need to be reminded. The Superiors spared our lives and stole our families. I remember Nana calling to me, telling me she loved me as the big robots dragged her away. I think that was the real reason I was so frightened when the man bled. I hadn’t seen the big robots in years. They took so many away. Nana was yelling for me to never forget. We both know I can sew. She was teaching me to secretly cook. Nana wanted me to be independent while the Superiors wanted us to be entirely dependent. Look what happened. Did they do this?”

  “I think it’s time to find out.”

  Chapter 7

  The pair had to backtrack. They stored many of their belongings in a new cave. The fire they brought was contained in its hollowed horn where they fed it small bits to keep it healthy. There were no animals to hunt where they went, so they were glad of the meats they’d cooked and brought with them. There was no significant foliage. The Earth looked dead. The area they roamed to had been hit by something harder than what hit their old area.

  The wall was gone. The devastation was phenomenal. Smashed pods were flipped and shattered. Robots lay without movement. The sidewalks were obliterated. The beautiful grass was all but gone, and what was left crinkled under their feet as they walked. Everything was destroyed. It hadn’t been when they left. Something else occurred. Greyson was certain the second blast had something to do with it. There were melted puddles in places filled with muddy water.

  Greyson gazed at the remains of the scattered, dead bodies of those who had trusted that the Superiors hadn’t abandoned them. All dead from starvation. From their wasted bodies and gaunt, tortured facial expressions he knew they went through hell. Your children, my fucking ass. Fury rose inside him. He wished he knew why this happened. They had been so loved and cherished. They died frightened and alone.

  His gaze then traveled to the numerous bodies who had tried and failed to go over the wall. There were scratches on it. One man’s head was crushed as it appeared he tried to go through the wall. All the innocent souls that lay before him, dead, had once been so happy. Betrayal welled up inside him. Another new emotion brought from deep within.

  “Why?” Greyson screamed, balling his fists.

  Infinity didn’t flinch. “Yes, why?” she asked in a calmer tone.

  The flickering voice of a Superior was heard. “Please help, children. Please help.”

  Greyson heard the voice from a distance. He walked with hesitancy toward the tone. At one time he would have cried with pleasure at hearing the familiar sound. Now he tensed and was wary. He had trusted this voice. The voice of many. Now it was met with trepidation and disgust. Below the hill was a massive amount of undamaged pods, all of them unopened. It was confusing to look at. The pods he and the others had been in were a mangled mess.

  “Our children,” the voice called again.

  Greyson tapped the restaurant pad. “What children?”

  “Not much time, Greyson. So happy you retu
rned,” was heard as the words crackled and faded in and out. “Our children. They know nothing of life. They have no negative thoughts. Their emotions are innocent. They will die if you don’t help them. Look over the hill. You will see the pods. All of them are closed for now, but when I am gone, they will open. The children will be exposed.”

  Greyson and Infinity peered over the edge of the small hill at the sea of pods, the ones he had been curious about. No doubt these were children to replace his era. Better children than he and the others had been.

  “What happened?” Greyson demanded, his tone harsh and bitter.

  There was no response.

  “What the fuck happened?” he bellowed. “We were your children. You didn’t beg for our salvation. Why? You let us die. You abandoned us to fend for ourselves. We trusted you.”

  “Promise to care for my innocent children.”

  “We were your innocent children. Not so innocent anymore. Do you see what you did to us?” Greyson screamed. He stepped back and showed off his many kills that adorned his body to keep him warm.

  “I am so sorry. But our children are even more innocent. Please take care of them.”

  Greyson experienced an intense anger, and for the first time in his life, he lied. “I promise we will if you tell the truth.”

  “When we discovered how innocent our children would be—such a joy, requiring no reprimands or calming drinks, just bliss—we couldn’t believe our creations. Greyson, the DNA of you and Infinity is in a few of these children. Only the sweetness, the adventure. We picked what we wanted. We created the perfect humans. There would never be war, disease, famine. No cruelty. No animosity, jealousy, fear, rudeness. Empathy for others is embedded in their souls. All they are capable of is love. They can all play together, love each other, know one another’s names. Names we chose.

  “We tried with your era to create the same environment, but we couldn’t. It wasn’t us, it was you. We did try. But you have memories. You interacted with parents and grandparents who can leave an imprint stronger than we can control. We couldn’t care for the younger children, we weren’t equipped, or we would have kept them instead. No matter how much we loved you, your families loved you more. You question, you say words you shouldn’t have. You began to have feelings for your partners that we didn’t condone. No children other than ours could be allowed. You couldn’t breed. Your children would question. If they questioned, you would find answers.