An Imperfect Phoenix

in #ecotrain5 years ago

She stood amidst the smoldering fire. She was wearing her fireproof boots. I mean, of course she was. She was always prepared. Others had called her paranoid, but they don't anymore. Well, no one says anything at all anymore.

Even through the boots, her feet felt warm. The warmth spread through her body, and as it touched her face, it became tears.

It was just a trickle at first, but she actually hadn't stopped to just look and feel in a really long time. Months? Years? A torrential downpour was headed her way, and she felt a grief that was so overwhelming it took her breath away. She gasped and then vomited. Searching desperately for a place to collapse, a place not on fire preferably, she stumbled to a tiny patch of muddy grass by the creek. This is where the park used to be. She crumbled to the ground and sobbed violently. Then she slept.

The smoke was still drifting about when she woke up, but the fires were all out. Everything was damp. She had no concept of time. It was twilightish, and the smoke and clouds were quite thick. She actually felt rested. It's that kind of sleep you get after a good cry. Her eyes burned, and her whole body was sore. The water in the creek lapped along as though nothing had happened.

Then there was a squirrel. It felt like a miracle, but of course there would be other survivors. She wasn't the only one that knew how to hide. He looked even more skittish than squirrels normally do. He seemed relieved to notice her as well and went about his business of finding food. She figured that was a good plan.

It hadn't always been destruction. I mean, there had been war and chaos her whole life, but once upon a time it had even seemed the tide would turn. Tears welling once again, she headed off to see if she could find a former store or restaurant that she could salvage something from.

Delilah had been born into sort of a weird family. We all think our families are weird. Maybe we're all right.

Neverending war had begun shortly after her birth. One villain after another, creeping closer and closer to home until full on civil war. Her mother was an activist. They were poor. Who knows where her father was. She grew up protesting, attending rallies and community meetings, building community gardens, as well as shelters filled with everything from canned foods and whiskey to gasoline and weapons.

The resistance had begun peacefully, but then shit got real. Her mother had been a Pollyanna, and her refusal to resort to violence and willingness to eternally believe people could change eventually cost her her life.

That motherfucker paid for his betrayal, but it didn't bring Delilah her mother back.

Her grandparents were privileged enough to mostly be spared from the carnage until her mom died. They felt betrayed by a world they had trusted, and they felt powerless to change anything. Her grandmother had sunk deep into dementia quickly, and her grandfather died fairly soon after.

So Delilah was left with two younger siblings and a grandmother in the throws of dementia amidst a civil war. It's not that she wasn't cut out for it. She really was. She was strong, clever, naturally suspicious, and sufficiently paranoid to keep herself alive. She was, however, resentful. It was a lot to bear at 21.

Delilah spied an old grocery store that had been boarded up six months ago when things started to get ugly. Bombing and burning had removed the boards and shattered the glass. She was able to crawl in without getting cut much. Coordination wasn't her strong suit, ok? The stench was pretty bad. Electricity had been out for two weeks, and the meat was old on top of that.

She decided to grab a shopping cart which felt really weird. Shopping carts are such a sign of normality. So here she was pushing her trolley through a bombed out, dark, stank supermarket. While she usually preferred the outer edges of the supermarket, this trip would be all about the middle. Bread, dairy, meat, and produce would all be spoiled. Time to push away the rubble and hit the canned foods and preservative filled snacks.

The children were delighted to have piles of chips and cookies - and a shopping cart. They heated up some refried beans and diced tomatoes over the little stove, and she held her nose and fried some spam. A few quick corn tortillas, and that's something sorta similar to a taco. She was too disgusted to eat much, but the kids were thrilled. At least there was plenty of wood to make a fire, and she'd come home with a bunch of flashlights, batteries, candles, and lighters.

Grandma was talking to Delilah's mother again. Delilah was too sad and exhausted to cry. She needed to find a pharmacy and get some meds for Grandma. She also needed to build a new house and find a source of electricity. So, yeah. Time to bust into her favorite practice. Lists.

Medicine
Seeds
Butane
Building supplies
Books on building
Books on gardening and canning
Books on hunting
Power source
Way to get rainwater
Piece of land that isn't utterly devastated
Functioning bicycles
Mattresses
Appliances
Other furniture
More kitchen shit
Other humans

She knew there had to be other people who had lived. For sure most people had died. She'd been locked up in the shelter they had built for weeks. There were a lot of dead bodies in the street. The stench was getting bad. Hmm. More things to add to the list.

Shovel
Tea tree oil
Sheets
Some kind of trailer to attach to the car
Handkerchiefs
Lavender oil

A pocket full of posies. Ashes, ashes. We all fall down.

Surely others had hidden away. Most people weren't as paranoid as she was, but there were definitely others who had been preparing. It was worse than even she had thought it would be. So some shelters probably hadn't held up. Surely there were more people. Then again, she had no idea if the nukes had come out at the end. It kinda looked that way. There hadn't been radio for a good week. She could be walking in deadly levels of radiation.

Looking at her list, she decided to prioritize it. The top priorities had to be medicine, butane, books, and the stuff needed to bury the dead. Then she could work on building a new life.

If you enjoyed this, check back soon. I'm already working on the next part.

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How did I accidentally overlook this gem? Sorry! And wow. Scuttles off to check her prepper stash and asks the universe pretty please for the fireproof boots!

Wonderful, compelling fiction, my dear. Thank you. Next installment soon please.


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