As Cities Fall

 And so, the climax ends. Not even a fragile peace is left behind in the wake of an apocalypse. That’s the problem with fear: it takes root, refusing to let go until your psyche is corrupted. Only a few can persevere alone; the rest who rely on each other only lose hope once their pillars are smashed.

All that remains is a place slowly crumbling from the dead silence. Those who are still alive may try to rebuild, but the majority will fall through no fault of their own. Nothing can prepare them for such a disaster.

And by the time they recover…

Tick.

“Toot toot!” The wheels clunked as they turned, slowly propelling the train forward. At first, it chugged along slowly, but gradually, it began to pick up speed. Nothing seemed out of place, and the controls were working fine. If anything, it was going too perfectly, but that was much better than a few extra hiccups.

Judging by the gas meter, we had enough diesel to make it pretty far from the city – maybe enough to the next country. Of course, that didn’t mean we were safe at the moment. While guns likely wouldn’t be a problem, there could be other trains on the tracks. Though, most of them were probably in city limits, so I could just find a way to change to the next rail over.

Tick.

The city whipped by in a blur as the sun set below the horizon, leaving behind the green tinted darkness. Even from this distance, the bodies and destruction were clearly on display, preventing anyone from escaping the harsh truth of reality. Barren wastelands and floating islands falling into the sea occasionally overlapped to remind me of the unfortunate past. While this city was still partially standing, it was obvious how far it had fallen.

Tick.

We continued our journey past the fallen skyscrapers and through the abandoned suburbs before finally making it out into the nearby plains. Eventually, I stopped the train for some rest as the waning crescent almost reached its peak. I didn’t really need any, since I was a doll, but it would definitely make my traveling companion suspicious. The wheels screeched to a halt, eliciting a few ‘moos’ in response.

I made my way back into the first and only train car meant for first class passengers. There were others, but I detached them before we left the station instead of wasting precious diesel. As expected, Andrea sat in one of the seats near the middle, staring out the window with an emotionless expression. Though unexpectedly, she fiddled with one of the baby formula jars lying around. I tried to toss them since Jack was no longer around, but her gaze seemed unwilling for some reason.

Tick.

“How can you remain so calm?” Andrea asked in a whisper, staring at my reflection in the window.

“About what?”

“Your son died. I didn’t think about it, but you should be grieving much more than me. And yet… your expression… it’s just… devoid of everything.” A fair question, even though he wasn’t my son. However, I took care of him for nearly three months before he passed. Some might rightfully wonder why I would do that for some stranger.

I decided to answer the easier question first. “First, my face has always looked like this. I’d be surprised if I can convey anything but mild irritation.”

That got a small laugh out of her.

Tick.

“As for grief… I’ve lost a lot of people over the years. Some I knew very well while others I barely did. I can still see their faces wherever I am, standing by my side, sitting right across… or lying dead at my feet.” Even as I looked at the empty seat next to her, I could see one of my comrades, twiddling her ratchet with a smile.

Andrea’s eyes urged me to continue.

“At first, they all seemed resentful, asking why I lived and they died. The smell of blood never left my nose as I fell off the crumbling cliff into the void below. It was a fool’s errand to try and climb up on my own, so I simply spent my time wandering alone, trying to do something, anything.”

“WHY?” That same question echoed in my ears over and over. It never specified what it asked, but I seemed to know regardless. It was a different person each time, but the voice was exactly the same. I could remember the nightmares as if they happened last night.

“Eventually, I realized that voice was my own, taunting me over a feeling of guilt that I never knew I had. Rather human, if I must say.” It was the first time I actually thought of myself as more than a simple doll, rather than a doll acting like a person.

“So, what did you do?”

“I just accepted it.”

Tick.

“...how?”

“That’s not something I can answer. It’s different for everyone. Like I told you before, all you can do is keep living. Whether you find it in the end is all on you.” Of course, it did take me nearly a hundred lifetimes, but I wasn’t going to mention that.

“...that doesn’t help at all,” Andrea responded, but this time, there was a hint of a pout.

“Sorry about that, but it’s the best I can do. And, for me, I’m sure that’s good enough.” I wasn’t sure who I was trying to convey my feelings to. Maybe it was myself. Maybe it was Andrea. Or maybe it was the people behind us, playing in the reflection.

A woman’s face I never knew, wearing a gentle smile. A daughter jumping around, waving her arms without a care. Jack crying in his mother’s arms. I never met the other two, but I could tell it was a family that clearly loved each other. It made me a bit envious. “Isn’t that right?” Whether I was smiling, who’s to say?

Andrea turned to face me, or maybe she was looking past me.

“...such a weirdo.”

Tick.