The Children of New Earth (11 page)

“This place is seriously terrifying,” my voice wavered.

“You know what’s actually scary, though?” Aelia inquired. “The total lack of bodies.”

We said nothing for a moment, contemplating her question.

“How do we even know there were bodies?” Cora tried to quell our fear. “Maybe they all got out before the attack.”

“And then died elsewhere?” Aelia asked.

“Unfortunately…yes.” Cora responded with some hesitation.

“And if they didn’t evacuate?” Aaron was still not convinced. “This is one of the cities that was right under a cluster of those portals.”

“If they didn’t evacuate in time, then those millions of people must have died in this city,” I said. “And yet, we haven’t seen a single body between here and the shore.”

“Meow,” Lynn cried out.

“Lynn’s right,” Rachel said. “Now you’ve frightened everyone.”

“I think you’re forgetting that there aren’t exactly scores of Demons roaming around the surface,” Aelia said. “The only thing dangerous here is the fear in our own heads.”

“Fear that you planted!” I argued. “And I suppose you weren’t paying attention on the beach when that Swarm attacked us?”

“We escaped didn’t we?” Aelia asked bluntly. “Besides, that Swarm could’ve been disintegrated in seconds.”

“You need to stop bickering all the time,” Mark said above us, slightly out of character. “I can hear you all the way up here, and if I can who knows what else will?”

I couldn’t help but agree, and with a glance at Aelia, we ended the argument. Shortly after, Lynn stopped by a building about five stories high. All the windows above the third floor were shattered, but the foundation looked strong enough. Mark didn’t detect any life forms in the vicinity so Lynn, in her cat form, advanced ahead with Aaron to have a look around. Upon entering, Aelia’s fire revealed a large entrance hall with a balcony running along three of the walls, overlooking the first floor. Particles of dust swam in the air and covered the large desk in the center of the room. The place looked like it had been abandoned for years, and I was both relieved and concerned to see that there were no bodies here either. Stumbling our way through, we were able to find a stairwell. We risked climbing to the second floor, for the sake of being on higher ground, and made camp on the balcony in case we needed to make a quick escape.

Aelia made a fire, and I found a place against the wall to settle in. Rachel seemed especially exhausted from steering the boat all day, so she laid down in the corner closest to the staircase, rested her head against her backpack, and shut her eyes. Aaron and Lynn returned and reported their findings.

“We seem to be in a hospital,” Aaron said.

“There are beds in all the rooms and some of the medical equipment is still here,” Lynn added.

“Any bodies?” I asked.

“None,” Aaron answered. “All the beds on this floor are empty.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Lynn insisted. “The dead couldn’t have just gotten up and walked away; either something moved them or they didn’t die here in the first place.”

“Excuse me, but I have new information,” Mark interrupted.

“What is it?” I asked.

“My sensors recently picked them up. There seems to be a large group of people about five miles north of our position.”

“Are you sure they’re people?”

“It’s a large reading. Logically, I can only assume it's a group of humans.”

“Are they moving?”

“Well I’ve been monitoring them for the past hour, not revealing their existence for the sake of - “

“Yes, yes, you don’t like causing panics,” I said calmly. “Go on.”

“Anyway, they have not moved from their position, and I plan to monitor them overnight.”

Reassured by this, I decided the best thing for all of us would be to get some sleep. It had begun to rain, and judging by the thunder, a storm wasn’t far behind. We settled down near the fire, and stared at the ceiling. I missed looking at the sky, a luxury I did not think I would crave until I had lost it. But when I closed my eyes, I could see the stars in all their bright, shiny constellations. I imagined galaxies and solar systems infinitely far away from my own where perhaps other races lived in peace and bliss, unaware of the troubles of Earth. Hearing nothing but the crackling of the small fire, the pitter-patter of rain on the windows, and rolling thunder in the distance, I fell asleep thinking of the heavens.

Chapter 8

I awoke happily that morning, partly because I did not have a nightmare involving anything especially awful but also because the rain had stopped. Rays of sunshine were beaming through the windows. I looked over the balcony, and despite the dust and the mess, the illumination made the entrance hall look a little less gloomy.

Mark was floating in the center of the room, basking in the sunlight and powering up his battery. I assumed the others had wandered off in search of supplies again, and Rachel was the only one still asleep. I didn’t want to disturb her, so I decided to take a stroll myself and explore the hospital in daylight. As I meandered through these empty halls, I pictured the people who worked here, as well as those they cared for. I imagined doctors reading patient charts and nurses carrying supplies and patients sauntering about. My father was a doctor himself before the war, so I had learned quite a lot about medicine from him. My mother was also trained as a physician, though she did not follow a career in it. Instead she spent her days pursuing her love of history. Many of the Parents had been married, or otherwise involved with each other, before the war started. Some of them also had children of their own who unfortunately did not survive the Demon attack. These same Parents were also among the first to have children when the war ended. Perhaps when it was finally over, they longed to fill that void that was left inside them by the loss of a child. I do not know the real reason; I never asked my own parents if I had any deceased brothers or sisters.

The hospital rooms looked more or less the same. Their doors were either left wide open or gone entirely. All of them were a mess, some had beds and some didn’t, and none that I passed by contained any trace of life. There was an inexplicable absence of blood, human or otherwise. I had a couple theories, but that’s all they were; once again I found myself with more questions than answers.

One particular room caught my attention, mostly because it was the only one with the door closed. Stepping in, I felt a rush of cool air. The environment was pristine, as if it had just been vacated by one patient and prepared for another. The bed was made with clean, white sheets with two blue chairs positioned next to it. The blinds were opened to allow the warm sunlight to flood in, and the windows were completely untouched. The medical machinery was turned off, but all the monitors and devices looked good as new. Besides the occasional speck of dust, the room was relatively unspoiled. I had a look around, checking in the closet, under the bed, and behind the equipment. Then, in the dresser drawer next to the bed, I found a journal. The binding was made of black leather, engraved with lines running diagonally across the front and back covers, creating a pattern of diamonds. A single string stuck out from the spine, probably used to mark progress in the book. After glancing at the inside front cover, which read the initials ‘C.G.’, I opened to a random page, and began to read:

“August 29, 2050

Well, it’s been almost a month that I’ve been here and I don’t feel any better. Doctors still say there’s a chance that it will go away, but I don’t like people telling me the odds. I don’t mind being sick, it’s just the constant attention and worrying from my parents. I’m sure they mean well, it’s just annoying. This disease will run its course, the chemo will do its job, and whichever is more powerful will end up winning in the end. No use worrying about it; Though, I can’t help feeling a little down, I was supposed to start college this fall.”

I gleaned that this person most likely had some type of cancer, and judging by the content he was about my age when he wrote this. I skimmed through a few pages and continued to read:

“September 15, 2050

I’m feeling quite sick, so you’ll excuse me if I don’t make this entry a long one. The chemo’s been pretty bad these past few weeks, but for my parents, even a chance at beating this is worth it. Not sure I feel the same, but I’ll endure it nonetheless.”

I learned about several diseases growing up, and remembered that cancer seemed to be the most common. Anyone could get it, since it was caused by an error in the most basic of all biological processes. You could take precautions but there was never any guarantee when it came to this affliction, or any illness for that matter. I continued to read:

“October 23, 2050

I haven’t been able to write in a while, the fatigue and nausea were too much for me. But I’m feeling a lot better now. My little sister turned 16 yesterday. The doctors said it was fine for me to leave the hospital for the night, so we went out to dinner to celebrate, and I got to experience the world for the first time in months. My parents surprised my sister with a new phone; it was fairly standard with a 6G network, 50 MP camera, and basic AI interface. The meager 1 TB of memory was a little disappointing for her, but she was happy nonetheless.

It wasn’t my birthday for another couple months, but when we got home my parents surprised me with a new car. It was the latest model in its series with built in maglev support, an autodrive feature, and a holographic media interface. Whether this was out of pity or love, I do not know, but it made me very happy, and that’s all that matters isn’t it?

After thanking them profusely, I asked if I could take it for a drive. They agreed after I promised several times to be careful. I took a short drive through the city, listening to some of my favorite songs. I passed the hospital, and dreaded having to go back there again the next day. I glanced at the dashboard and noticed that I had a full tank of gas. For a moment, I contemplated leaving the city and spending whatever days I had left in freedom. I realized, of course, that this plan was poorly thought-out and would hurt more people than it helped. I went back home, and next day, here I am.”

I continued to flip and skim through these pages, intrigued by the life of this teenager. I had only read about for a short while, but I felt like I’d known him a lot longer. Perhaps it was the way he wrote, or maybe his cynical outlook on life which, though caused by different circumstances, wasn’t too different from my own. I skipped ahead to the last entry, hoping to find some good news. I was both glad and dispirited.

“December 19, 2050

I just woke up; It’s almost noon, so guess half my birthday is gone. I’m feeling unusually energetic and lively. Normally I just read and watch movies but today that wasn’t enough. I can feel the boredom taking over. Even writing in this journal is getting old. My doctor just walked in, let’s see what he has to say…

He just gave me some great news! The cancer is in remission. 80% of it is gone and I can probably go home in the next few days. Hopefully by 2051, I’ll be totally cancer-free! I’ve already told my family and friends, and they’re all visiting to congratulate me. Talk about the best birthday ever! Wait, there’s a lot of commotion outside my room.”

“There’s some kind of storm happening outside. I’m looking out my window and there’s these giant purple holes in the sky. The wind is picking up and lightning just came out of nowhere. I’ll try to keep writing but…I see something. I don’t know if they’re animals or people or what but they’re coming out of the portals.”

The writing became sloppy here, but I could just barely make it out.

“Something tells me my parents aren’t gonna make it to the hospital today. I’m getting out of here, but I’m leaving my journal behind; hopefully someone will find it and make sense of what’s happening. This is my last entry. Goodbye.

P.S. worst birthday ever.”

December 19, 2050. That’s the day the war started. This boy, almost my age, looked out his window and saw the world he knew fall apart before his very eyes. And here I was, almost thirty years later, looking out the same window at the same view. Except now there were no portals. The Demons were defeated, and humanity had survived. For all I knew, this ‘C.G.’ could still be out there somewhere. My final thought before leaving the room was realizing that people
must
have died in this city, making the lack of bodies even more disturbing.

I stuffed the journal in my backpack as I walked back through the halls of the second floor. When I turned the next corner I bumped into Aaron, startling us both.

“Dammit, Thran, I nearly killed you!” he exclaimed, lowering his weapon.

“That’s not the first time someone’s said that to me,” I said smiling.

“Still, be careful, friend,” he warned. “Have you seen the others?”

“Nah, I thought they were with you,” I replied. “Rachel’s still asleep and Mark’s nearby.”

“I’m sure they’ll turn up,” Aaron reassured himself. “Hey, do you wanna check out the third floor?”

“I’m not sure it’s safe to go any higher. The upper levels looked a little unstable from outside.”

“Don’t worry, one more floor can’t hurt.”

Against my better judgement, I agreed. We found the nearest stairwell and ascended a couple flights to the next floor. It wasn’t much different from the second. Papers, glass, and medical equipment were strewn about. There was a central desk riddled with dust and mold, and all the surrounding rooms had doors that were either left open or even completely ripped from their hinges. And once again, there was no sign that anyone, living or dead, had been here recently. Unlike the second floor, the ceiling lights here were all broken and wires hung freely.

“Let’s see if we can find anything useful,” Aaron said. “Be careful.”

“Follow your own advice,” I said lightheartedly.

After about 20 minutes of searching we came up with nothing but a few first aid supplies. There was one more room we hadn’t visited, so before returning to the second floor we decided to check it out. This room was in a much worse condition than any of the others we’d seen. Cracks ran through the walls and ceiling, the windows were shattered, and the curtains were waving with the wind. The pillow and bedsheets were ripped to shreds, and the equipment lay smashed to pieces all over the floor.