End Horizon

1. Mark

It felt good to feel the air again, a simple breeze through his hair. It had been four months since Mark had last visited their landing zone. Now freshly dropped off outside of the city limits, he shouldered his pack and set off. It was a gamble to walk along out here in the wilderness as varying witness accounts of larger prey animals getting bolder were starting to spike. Those they communicated with along the small communities of survivors had explained they were now in the process of designing and erecting proper barriers. This was no zombie hoard that they feared, but instead anything that might hunt them down.

His own radio crackled at his side. The volume nod was twisted and he found himself once again in silence. Only the breeze across the tall grass accompanied him, each step amplified by the dry plants crunching underneath. No matter how many times they walked through here a path refused to take shape. The earth knew how to fight back against the simplest of things now. The rifle of his shoulder cast a large span outwards, parting grass and shrubbery as if he might be walking with his arms wide open.

Into the great, wide open.

The only reason for dropping a few miles away was for their own safety. There was never any telling what gangs would be formed, who or which animals chose to be brave that day because they were either hungry or bored enough. While Mark was a stellar marksman with his rifle, he had once been a cop only handling the typical sidearm. Anyone could learn, anyone could evolve now. He knew by the faded graffiti under the usual bridges he passed through that no one had come this way in a while. That was a bit of a plus. This wouldn’t have to be an entire day of avoiding others who were looking for the same thing he was - anything.

Once at the city limits, the divide was clear. While the earth fought to consume the pavement it still needed work to do. It crept a little closer inwards to the epicenter of the city every time he visited. Maybe four, five yards this time, Mark noted as his foot falls turned to solid steps. That Honda isn’t getting any closer to driving off anyway.

Instinctively he checked back seats and trunks, sometimes under the hood. Despite having gone through this nearly a hundred times he still hoped to find something, be it a survivor cowering or a stash not properly hidden. Each step was mechanical from here on out, knowing exactly where to lean or step or avoid broken glass. The new roots he tripped over on his way to the Staten Island Mall were only taken note of. Mark knew he was their inconvenience, not the other way around.

The shrill cry of the wind through shattered window panes drew his gaze upward to the buildings above. To him, it had become semblance of wind chimes set outside on a front porch. Fragments of glass glittered as they fell. Mark raised an arm to shield his face but otherwise walked unbothered and unscathed.

By the time he reached the mall, Mark had counted four cars missing from his usual routes. They were never found, not even a hint of them littered across the next street from a storm. They simply had ceased to be in this world. The eastern block of the mall had now fallen in on itself. Sections of the roof  were visibly cast sideways against themselves like dominoes. He couldn’t imagine the damage inside because of this, or how many stores had been flattened because of it.

He greeted the one mannequin inside that survived its own ware, missing an arm and dented to hell and back, but no storm had taken it somehow. It had become his new Statue of Liberty - considering the previous one had been cleaved by Boeing.

Most of the stores on the bottom floor had been ransacked the second the stragglers of the Ascension realized they were going to be left behind for whatever purpose. At first, it had been for materialistic possessions, televisions, gaming consoles and laptops, things that could fill the breach. As time went on, more and more clothes would be taken with more of a responsible idea in mind. The food in the cafeteria kitchen had spoiled long before people started giving a damn, but they had taken the effort to clean it to at least reside there, use the tools, stoves, sinks. From what Mark could remember from his last visit here it was still relatively taken care of, which meant someone was coming around.

Everyone’s own greed had been an instinctive flight here to take what they could. Whether it was to have it for themselves or to become monetary value, Mark wasn’t sure. Coins and bills were still applicable down here on Earth for trade of all sorts, but even Audrey (who didn’t usually care to advise their trips) assumed eventually, people would need something more, something vital to the working world.

Nevertheless, it was strange to peer into a brand clothing store to see the hangers and shelves stripped nearly bare. Mannequins had been toppled and broken in order to get the last of what was left. Mark didn’t see it as a tactless effort at all; it was different these days when there came to be nothing left. He could stop in the several electronic stores and search for batteries and always manage to find something there. Trent had told him that he could take the back out of the remaining consoles or laptops and scrap the screws and the hardware.

An alien ship could build many things but it didn’t understand the human design of a simple screw.

After all, gasoline was a weapon now. Fossil fuels wouldn’t be mined any longer so the remaining shell of the Earth could thank them for that. Basic electricity could be stored in generators, water ran mostly cleaner outside of the city limits. But what powered it all, what was the heart of so many operations, came down to a small chip much like the one Mark held in the palm of his hand. Alright, maybe he somewhat understood the importance.

His watch read 10:39 when he checked it. Enough time for a lot of things. Since the mall seemed relatively abandoned today (more so than usual) he didn’t feel the urge to keep looking over his shoulder. For once he could relax, setting down his small pack and taking out the various screwdrivers to get to work on prying apart the broken laptops left behind.

I don’t know what you need these for, kid, but…

He was surprised that his backpack wasn’t weighing him down by the tame he came to the one set of stairs that had held together. His footsteps echoed - another thing he was no longer worried about today. From the second floor he could see just where the roof had caved in. Checking the map it had taken several counter services for food, so, no real loss there for him. A few coats from a ransacked clothing store, a pair of shoes for Rose - God, she really grows outta these fast. Why do I even bother?

His last stop had been to one of the jewelry departments. To no surprise, almost everything had been taken from the display counters and each step was met with the crunch of glass. This wasn’t his usual routine so no supplies had been brought with him that might be able to crack into the safe or some of the more unbreakable displays. The necklaces inside were rattled around but untouched. He pressed a few fingers to the glass as he passed plastic hands that no longer held any rings. The last time he had been in one of these places had been with …

Mark stood straight. No, not today .

With the butt-end of his rifle he knocked in locked cases in the back. The door had only been opened a few weeks ago but since it had been a silent operation he wasn’t surprised to see that no one had bothered with it since. Chains of any metal were taken, it didn’t matter if it was a necklace or a bracelet. So long as it held when he yanked it from both ends he took it. It had been his first mistake to keep going even when he felt he had more room in his own pockets. Even when he felt something prickle the back of his neck.

Doubt?

After turning his head to look out at the main floor of the jewelry store, he brought down the rifle into the glass.

The sound of the alarm nearly sent him into shock, gone in an instant and replaced with a high-pitch whine of electricity bursting at the seams. A red light flared on and off from above, lighting up the room like a warzone. Mark, feeling bold, hadn’t thought to bring along a reconnaissance team. They hadn’t been here in two weeks but nothing seemed to drastically change around here once the weather settled. That had been his second mistake.

“Shhhhit,” he hissed, freezing for what felt like too long.

Through the constant wail of the alarm he could hear something. It felt, as well as sounded, like a growing vibration. The aftershocks that followed a rocket launching were similar. Only when he felt it through his boots did he get a clue. Someone was coming up the stairs.

“Shit.”