When We Shed Civilization

Chapter 20

In the light of the moon, the broken towers of the city center had seemed close, no more than an hour's walk away. But as the first rays of the morning's sun had touched their fractured tips, the countless buildings around them and the true size of the place became apparent.

And now, the heat of the day was scorching Beth's scalp while the fatigue of a night without sleep caught up with her.

"Let's rest," she said.

Burt didn't look at her—they hadn't said much since they had left Leo and his daughter. She still scorned him for what he had tried to do and wondered if his silence was a sign of contrition.

But he finally nodded. "Same. And we should hide. Your friend Leo said something about other gangs. More rats. We'd better travel at night."

"He's not my friend." She stopped, mentally revisiting the scene of last night when Burt had tried to kill Hope and Leo, wondering about his motives. Was he jealous?

His skin had even less color than usual, and his tired gaze was on the ground between them.

Her anger abated. He was her only companion in this hostile world. They shouldn't fight. Rather, it was time to find a place to hide.

They stood at the top of a gentle slope studded with the stone and concrete remnants of former buildings—chimneys, a few walls, and blackened remains of wooden ties. Fires must have claimed the rest of the houses long ago.

Almost at the bottom of the incline, where it met the flatter terrain of downtown, a large brick building had survived, promising shade and shelter.

Beth pointed at it. "Let's try there."

Burt wiped his brow. "Okay."

As they got closer, Beth recognized that most of its roof was gone—only a few charred gables remained. But the two floors below it looked intact, the wall of brick almost unscathed.

Burt ascended a wide flight of steps to what looked like the main entrance and tried the handles of the iron-reinforced double door.

"Locked," he said. "Do you think we should ring for them to open?" He pointed at a brass bell hanging at the gate's side.

The lightness in his words relieved Beth. It sounded like a token of peacemaking. Still, the silence of the place and its locked door made her feel uneasy. "If it's locked, the house might have residents. We should look for another shelter."

"I don't think anyone's living here." Burt gestured at the dead trees and ruins surrounding them. "It's a dreary neighborhood. Let's check the other sides. Maybe there's a second entrance. We should get you out of this heat."

The tentative smile he gave her made it hard for her to say no, so she shrugged.

As they walked the length of the front side, Beth tried to peer through the windows, most of which were broken but secured behind rusty metal bars. Yet they were above her head, so all she could see were the blank ceilings of the rooms inside.

As they turned the corner, they found another door, similar to the first one—two wings at the top of a small stair. But that one was locked, too.

Beth studied the facade with growing unease. "Let us look elsewhere. This place is uncanny. It's like a fortress."

"Fortress sounds good to me," said Burt. "Something safe and strong is what we need."

"But what if it does have inhabitants?" She doubted that hospitality or charity would be offered behind these walls.

"Then we'll talk to them. Or run." He grinned as he continued along the wall.

At the back of the building, the windows were closer to the ground. Burt stepped up to one and grabbed the iron grid guarding it. He pulled himself up.