I sat in the darkness watching the day shift workers file out. The black work jumpsuits of the Janitors, The white uniforms of Paramedics, and the colorful striped shirts of other Department heads.
I think it's only two weeks since the DayShift was 12 hours long. Now Half of the population is dead. Ironic how the people who used to clean up the messes everyone else made are now the only people left doing any work.
No one cares about the walls anymore. The first layer is days of old graffiti, the second layer is from the riots, the third from the fires of the burning buildings.
The spray paint is layered so deep it has started to crack. Every color has a different shade of gray, black, or brown. The city has entered its fourth layer of graffiti.
I sit here watching the small crowd of people that come in everyday. Everyone is designated to a number, it's the first two numbers of their social security number. I'm 163. Of the 1,842 people they let in the city, I'm the only one alive. I don't know where everyone else is. Nobody talked about it when I asked.
I used to think everything would get better. I used to play soccer and hide from my mom when she tried to get me to clean my room. I used to have a normal life. I used to have friends.
I'm looking at my hand. I've lost track of how many fingers I've lost. My medical records say I was born with 5. I really should get a replacement. I just lost one of my last 5 fingers due to the infection that is spreading through the city. The infection has breeds hundreds of thousands of new cases of the flu a minute. It's been 3 weeks since the day shift was saved.
New day guys! (Recognize the theme song?)
I'm sitting in the hallway waiting for the elevator to come. The Elevators all work again, there's a group of people each day that work on them. The elevator passes the floor I'm on without stopping. For some reason, the people who work on the elevator think it's funny to pass your floor if you're waiting on one. I think they are just bored, because they say it to everyone. It's the 4th time this week.
I haven't met any new people in a while. People officially stopped getting let into the city yesterday. They went on strike when they found out they'd have to share their rations. It's really strange to me. They don't realize they will have to share their Rations when they leave the city anyway.
Now they are just not slowing letting anyone into the city because they have run out of food and they can't let people in while they have food, they also can't let people out because they have no way to protect anything outside the city.
I walk past a group of men pushing a cart of supplies to the door. Even though I haven't met any new people, occasionally I run into people I've met before. Or people get moved out that I had spoken to. Or people that get moved in to take their place. I've seen all sides of the city. One day, I'll leave and see what all of this has been about..
I'm in the elevator when a woman with gray hair walks in. She doesn't have the same lifeless look to her. She's eating an orange, and she looks like she is on a mission. I think that a lot of the women did.
The elevators aren't working now. Instead, you have to carry up the 20 feet from the first floor to the top. This woman is carrying a 50 pound bag of 5 year old staples and hanging on to a 10 foot stair rail. She's balanced on one foot as if it were on a skis. I guess it's the old carry a heavy load thing. She's still missing a finger.
"Where am I again? she says.
I say it.
"You here with the Engineers? I ask.
She nods.
"What's your name? I ask again.
"Lillian she says.
"What does Lillian mean? I ask.
"It's my mother's name. I lost it as a baby. she says.
That's a very strange thing to say. I leave when the elevator comes.
I take the supplies to my kitchen. I have more supplies on the roof now. I brought everything that was down.
I look up and I see the storm. It's a great storm. I can see the city crumbling down around me and the storm breaking. Lightning flashes across the city, every 5 minutes. I stop to look at the city.
I look at it and I hear Lillian's voice. It looks like everything you worked for is going to be gone. You will still be in the city, but not for long.
I look and see Lillian standing next to the window. She's smiling at the storm. She stares at it for a moment and then turns only to look at me.
"You're a rocket scientist right? she asks. I wanted to ask you a question. There are a few theories about what keeps the city running. We came up with a few different explanations. One of them was…
She doesn't finish the sentence. Instead, the room started to shake. I stand there for a moment, and look around on my new train of thought.
I hear something behind me. I think its coming from the elevator, until I turn and see that only my kitchen is shaking.
"That's the explosion of the rocket! I yell to Lillian.
Lillian looks at me for a moment, and smiles. It was not a sad smile, it was happy. I don't really know" she said. "I'd like to know.
"I'll be back. I yell.
I run down the stairs to my car, which is parked on the street, and I start to drive out of the city.
I drive in the chaos of a city falling apart. Brick buildings as tall as skyscrapers crumbling over and crushing everything around it. Glass and sparks shoot up everywhere. It is worse than TV could have ever shown. I'm amazed that I'm not crashed or dead.
I get there. I get out of the car. It's really quiet. I look all over the place.
Lillian was not the only one in the storm. There was this small car. It's covered in dust and spots of oil. On the front passenger side of the car were two small letters.
I get into the car. I turn it on. It works. I hear a clicking sound coming from the trunk. I open it and see a switch. Interesting.
I start the car and I put it in reverse. I look at the roads and I realize they're not moving. I back up and I drive forward. I look out of the window and I see a wall in the ditch. I've found the road.