Flare (5 page)

“If he gets in pain, give him this,” said Heather, and Elsa nodded.

Elsa took the pills and walked towards the wall to put them in her pile. She had medication in rows on the ground, and put Heather’s medicine in the biggest group.

“We should ask her to come along,” whispered Ash.

“You can ask,” whispered Heather in return, “but she won’t say yes.”

Ash asked and Elsa refused, giving no reason. Ash didn’t pursue the matter, realizing they had to return. They had to get back because the sun was lying in wait for them, and Elsa’s room held nothing of value, at least not now.

/***/

They headed back to their house laden with medication for Dr. Shaw, mostly pain relievers and antibiotics. Ash wondered if there was anything they could have pilfered that would have helped them survive in the house, but Heather stated what little food remained at the hospital couldn’t be taken because it needed to stay for Elsa and her patients. Ash didn’t disagree, perhaps because he still had compassion, perhaps because he wasn’t yet starving.

/***/

There were two men on the road on their way back, possibly friendly, but they didn’t look overtly approachable and Heather wanted to avoid them. Ash agreed because he didn’t want to find trouble, let alone another burnt boy.

They took an alternate route home, and though it was longer Heather said it would be fine because she’d developed an intuitive sense of when the sunrise was approaching, and they had time.

They found a boarded-up corner store along the way, surprisingly still half full. Neither Ash nor Heather had any qualms about looting it, though they still approached the store with caution.

It was filled with the usual fare of a corner store: liquor and Donettes, soda and gum, magazines and sugared pudding-pies, with nothing remotely healthy save for a few bottles of water and some fruit drinks that had gone stale long ago.

“There’s a light on in here,” said Heather.

Ash realized that she was right. The place was illuminated by a single bulb located above what looked like the door to the stock room, and it gave the whole place a reddish glow. Ash walked up to the light and examined the circuitry. It was a modern light bulb wrapped in red cellophane, and it had a cord that led to the stock room behind it.

“Have you seen other lights?” asked Ash. “Not flashlights with batteries, but lights with cords?”

“No,” said Heather. “I haven’t.”

“We have to figure this out then,” said Ash. “We should go into the stock room.”

“We can figure it out tomorrow,” said Heather.

Ash recognized that Heather might be right to be tentative. But he thought back to his first go-around at a PhD and remembered the work he had done studying the statistics of survival during disasters.

“We should go in,” said Ash. “During catastrophic events, those who
act
tend to survive. Those who passively wait for help are more likely to perish.”

“This isn’t a plane crash or an earthquake,” said Heather, immediately getting his context. “This is different.”

“You’re right,” said Ash. “I think we should go in, but I won’t pursue this without your say so.”

Heather thought for a moment and then nodded.

“We’ve got time before the sunrise. Let’s do it.”

Ash examined the light above the stock room door once more.

“All right,” he said, before projecting his voice. “Hello?! Anybody there? We’re friendly!”

No answer, and Ash yelled once more. Again no response, and Ash gestured to Heather that he wanted to open the door. She nodded back in approval.

Ash opened the door to the stock room slowly and softly, hitting a barrier two inches in. He gave one more soft push, but the door wouldn’t move any further.

“It’s blocked,” said Ash.

Heather gave it a push.

“Someone’s behind there,” she said. “People block doors so they don’t accidentally open up during the day.”

“Odd that he keeps it blocked during the night.”

Heather agreed, and they both decided to come back later. They would leave a note saying that they meant no harm, and they would take food but wouldn’t strip him completely of his stock.

Ash left the note and then grabbed a handful of fruit pies and put them in his backpack. The blueberry ones were seven hundred calories each, so Ash took ten. He cursed himself for not bringing a bigger backpack but calmed down when he remembered he could return. This place was full after a month of the flare, and they knew its location. They would come back, be nice and gather more fruit pies while the manager told them how he had kept his light on.

The refrigerator at the back of the store didn’t work, so they only gathered water. Ash fit two bottles in his backpack and then found a third five-gallon jug and lifted it. He could take two and place them on each handle of the bike, but he and Heather decided to take one, because the owner probably needed his water. Heather had a water tap that worked anyway.

Heather couldn’t help herself and opened a custard pie, peeling back the wax paper and digging into it. Ash followed suit, taking another one off the shelf instead of taking one from his backpack. It was delicious. It would probably be just as good a year from now, perhaps better, because he would be hungrier then.

Ash noticed that he had a constant appetite, starved from a month in a coma, and after he ate the pie he didn’t feel bad, fat or greasy. His body was telling him that all calories were unquestionably valuable, and that he should keep eating. He had one more off the shelf, and it was just as good as the first. He noticed that Heather had only eaten hers halfway and looked down.

“We need to go back,” said Heather. “Julius is there, all alone.”

“Right,” said Ash.

Ash knew that Dr. Shaw wasn’t going anywhere, and that they should consider bringing him to the hospital. They could place him under the care of Elsa, who would listen to him and allow him to die when he wished.

Ash knew his sister and knew that she wanted the same, but she wouldn’t be able to pull the trigger and leave Dr. Shaw to die. She had held on to this man too long, before the flare and especially now. Ash knew what Dr. Shaw meant to her, but Ash also knew they weren’t doing him any favors by keeping him in the living room and giving him pilfered medicine every time he began seizing.

/***/

A young man rushed out of the storeroom five minutes later, and he had a shotgun. He was of South Asian descent, but he had no accent and seemed too young to run a store. Still, he pointed a quivering barrel at them for a few tense moments, and they spoke calmly to him until he put his weapon down. He kept it close but relaxed and asked them questions about what they were doing, what they wanted, and how they had survived this long. He was educated by his tone of voice, and they spoke long enough to suggest that they were too.

We’ve benefitted from extensive schooling, and so has he,
thought Ash.
In situations like this, that’s enough to form a bond of trust.

They apologized for taking his food, saying that they only needed enough to survive, and that they had left a note in his store. They offered to put the food back, but the young man said it was okay and even let them take the water, since he had plenty.

The young man asked them if they wanted to have dinner, and though Heather wanted to get back to Julius, Ash said they would stay. He didn’t yet know what the questions were, but this guy with a shotgun was sure to have some answers.

/***/

The young man’s name was Raj, and he brought a meal of canned tuna and an LED flashlight that he had modified to turn into a sitting hurricane lamp. The light from the lamp was weak but it was enough to illuminate their meal, and Ash noticed that it was the kind of rechargeable lamp that plugged in.

The man told him that he was a graduate student. Ash and Heather played the
name game
with him, where they shared a list of colleges and universities attended in the hopes of finding common ground in someone that they both knew. Ash was older than Raj, but they still found commonality in a post-doc that Ash had known as an undergrad.

Those with too much schooling always end up playing the name game,
thought Ash with a smile.
List out a set of top-tier colleges and years attended, and then cross-list until you find someone you both know. We play it when we’re strangers at parties, and we still play it now after the world has ended.

Raj told them that he didn’t own the store but that it had belonged to his uncle, who could be dead or alive but was now gone. Raj was underground when the flare hit, and it gave him enough time to plan his way out. He’d made it here on foot, sleeping in house basements, and had no plan other than coming to this place.

Raj said he had no idea what the flare was from, or why it was here, and that it still didn’t feel like the end of the world.

“I would have expected more looters,” said Raj. “They’re there, and it just takes one of them to hurt you, but I was expecting to be assaulted more often. I’ve only been attacked once, and the guy ran away when I brought out my gun.”

“There are dangerous people,” said Heather, “in the city.”

“I saw that on my way here,” said Raj. “Worst scenario you can imagine, with gangs running around throwing people into the sun and stuff. But out here, there’s hardly anyone.”

“There are people here,” said Heather, “and they’re dangerous. I hear them at night.”

“That’s true,” said Raj. “I hear them too, but I thought there’d be more of them.”

Raj went on to tell them about how the flare had destroyed most of the world’s circuitry, but not all. Everything underground was safe, though circuits would be fried if you brought them out for even a moment during the day. He showed them his light set-up and how he had modified a solar panel to withstand the radiation and charge a battery downstairs. Raj then brought out a metal pipe that had one end covered with black cellophane.

“I’m working on getting this just right,” said Raj, showing them the pipe. “I want to put it in one of my walls to allow me to see during the day.”

Ash smiled and looked at the pipe before handing it to Heather.
It might work. Low-tech solutions are the way to go in these times.

Raj explained that cars didn’t work because the flare had broken their circuitry, but that they could be fixed if you knew how to bypass their electrical system.

“Your best bet is to find an old car,” said Raj. “Something from the 1980s or earlier. Those vehicles don’t have a lot of wiring, and if you find one that’s been protected, it could start right away.”

They reached a lull in conversation, and Raj nodded to himself as if he was about to reveal something that he could never take back.

“Have you guys seen the equations?”

Ash had no idea what Raj was talking about, and he saw that Heather had no clue either.

/***/

Raj showed them two papers. One had a series of indecipherable symbols on it, and the other had a long math equation in tiny print.

Raj told them that the papers had blown into his store one day and he thought nothing of them, but other travelers had spoken of them too. He couldn’t make heads or tails of the sheets that he had, but he’d held on to them nonetheless.

Ash studied the math equation. He had seen something like it before. When he was in graduate school they had posted questions like these on a basement chalkboard, to be solved or to become legend. Some stood for twenty years before being cracked, some were “retired” as unsolvable. Ash had solved three, one of which had been retired.

Ash couldn’t figure out what was on Raj’s two pieces of paper, though. But he grabbed the paper and stared at the riddles, and soon his mind moved from the content to the paper itself. It was thick, waxy and was made of a fibrous material that gave off a faint sheen.

Ash rubbed his hand over the paper and exchanged a look with Raj, who returned a smile until it was clear that they were both thinking the same thing. Ash tried to rip the paper, but it wouldn’t tear. He tried as hard as he could, putting his entire weight into breaking the sheet in two, but it still wouldn’t tear.

“It’s indestructible,” said Raj.

“Nothing’s indestructible,” said Ash. “But it’s strong.”

Raj smiled again and took out a lighter from his pocket. Raj put the fire to the paper but it wouldn’t burn, even after ten seconds in the hottest part of the flame.

“These sheets can survive fire, wind, time and even water,” said Raj. “I tried everything.”

“Can they survive the flare?” asked Heather.

“Yep,” said Raj. “I tied this sheet outside and it survived the whole day without a scratch. And check this out.”

Raj then threw the paper up in the air, and it gently coasted back down to earth, waxing and waning left and right as it did so.

“They’re designed to travel,” said Raj. “They’re indestructible, but still light. The wind alone will distribute these papers.”

Ash thought for a moment and then realized the underlying truth that Raj understood.

“That means someone made these papers,” said Ash. “Whoever made these papers knew about the flare, and made these to survive it.”