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  The fighting started only a few months after the beginning of the world. Groups argued and tried to control resources. They fought, and died over the water.

  Stopping atop of a broken bridge that still hadn’t fallen from disrepair, I glanced down at the dry riverbed, seeing sharp rocks, debris, and tragic memories. It was probably a twenty foot fall from here to the rocky outcrop below.

  Moving ahead, I looked left to see the dry riverbed running close by. The groups that arose over time did so for two fundamentally different reasons: to take, and to give. Those who wanted to control the waters, to control the people, were almost the greatest threat. They would extort, lie, and kill those in their way. But then again, the ones that sought to keep the waters free for everyone else were utterly terrifying too. They would do whatever needed to be done. They destroyed lives, demolished buildings, and sought to control everybody while trying to keep the waters free. It was a horrible paradox.

  A lot of people died in that war. Not soon after the first stone was slung, I could recall seeing the first body floating upside down in the water. It was a bloody beginning to this tragic city. I sympathized with why they did it too, but just not how they ended it. I never wanted to get involved, but always tried to voice my concern, my voice always drowned out in the violence.

  Then one day the river was simply gone, as if it never existed in the first place. No one could explain it, and I sure as hell couldn’t rationalize it. The fighting only grew worse from there. Accusations were tossed around freely, and especially toward those who could stand to gain from the river’s disappearance. More blood was spilled, and more tears were shed. Even more lives were taken. I was one of the people suspected of somehow tampering with the free-flowing water. That was just the beginning of my troubles, I suppose. I thought to the times when I held Olivia at night, when the fighting grew too close to home, when it threatened to beat down our front door.

  I made my way forward. The river dipped down and swung left. From here it would drift another hundred paces or so before disappearing altogether.

  I passed by several broken dwellings. These places had been incinerated at some point. Surfaces were all weather-beaten from the constant rain and the merciless glare of the sun. Paint was peeling here and there. The grass was burned in places, most of it brown and the rest simple patches of dirt. Blackened soot covered everything.

  Anything that tried to grow back was sure to suffer an unhappy life. The cement on the foundations was blackened and crumbling, threatening to collapse at any moment. A strong wind could push over these weakened buildings, and often did. It was sometimes loud enough at night to hear something falling apart.

  Some other houses on my right weren’t as lucky, if that was even an appropriate way to put it. Piles of ashes were just heaped on the ground. The burnt and rotted piping, and some framework, jutted out of the ground, barely suggested that a building had existed before.

  Not a single piece of this broken city ever looked unscathed from whatever disaster occurred before The Forgetting. As my mind had returned piece by piece, new words and ideas became apparent. War… famine… natural disaster. But nothing fit quite right.

  I came to a halt as a not-so-recent memory arose. Olivia was right here, running ahead and pointing, seeking my attention. I wanted to call out to her, to tell her to stop. But this was just my horrific fantasy, or my deepest fear. If I followed where she was pointing, I knew it would only lead me to that circling mass of evil.

  This was a memory from the first day, a phantom from my past. The cliff that would drop down a hundred feet with sharp and jagged boulders below. I started moving again, keeping my eyes on my feet.

  Step by step I drew ever closer to that edge. Before I knew it I was staring down at the abyss at the bottom of the gorge. The fall would take but a few seconds, and death would be instant. Several graves sat at the bottom of the ravine. Some deaths were accidental, people falling to their doom. Others chose the fall to stop their misery. I knew their plight, their need to let go of the pain and sorrow.

  I’d had the urge to leap myself, to no longer worry about the fighting, the hunger, the turning, or anything else would be such a relief. Every time I thought I was ready to jump, I would hear Olivia’s voice echo in my mind. It would be foolish to fall, selfish even. I would not only be killing myself, but I’d leave Olivia alone in this corrupted world. I would never take the plunge.

  Thunder cracked as I raised my head, as if it knew I was coming. Clouds circled about an invisible axis in the distance, the barrier right below that veil. The city spread out before me, and was just as broken as before, if not more so.

  Towers touched the clouds above, and smoke billowed from the largest ones. This happened often enough, as apparently a fire built up in the skyscrapers. People didn’t know how to control a simple fire, allowing it to spread from the base and beyond. Before anyone could put it out, the flames traveled up the walls and through the windows, where they were fueled with open air. Soon enough, cloud-touching buildings could become raging infernos, expelling multiple families.

  I felt something watching from the darkness beyond. Thunder spoke again while a shaft of lightning rippled throughout the mass. Waves of dizziness swayed my thoughts and threatened to throw me off the cliff, to turn me one of those accidental deaths. I quickly dropped my eyes to my feet, begging my legs to steady. The world rocked beneath me before it finally grew steady.

  A rumbling alerted me back to the center of the city, but I dared not look back. It wanted me to stare into the darkness, to draw me in and not let go. Not willing to give the gloom that sort of pleasure, I turned and focused on the expressway. It wove straight into the heart of the city, exactly the way I was going.

  My feet carried on without me. I was lost to the environment as the superhighway materialized before me. It was littered with wreckage. Cars looked glued together they were nuzzled so close.

  I glided towards what I recalled being a fire truck. The word fire stayed with me as I witnessed the sure and total destruction of the vehicle. It was faded red while constantly assaulted by the weather. The windows were broken, and the driver’s side door was ripped off. Its sides were marked with war stories. As always, there was no driver, no bones to mark a final resting place, no trace of blood. It was as if the vehicle simply drove itself here and died.

  I walked on, passing by cars, trucks, ambulances, police caravans, a motorcycle laying on its side, and even a helicopter that appeared to have crashed and exploded in the middle of it all. I looked at the ‘copter and saw a logo stenciled into the fuselage:—“Bennis Industries” it read. I wondered what type of company that was, but it didn’t really matter.

  I dipped and zigzagged through the onslaught of stationary traffic, making my way passed the cluster. It was never an easy journey on the highway. It felt like miles and miles of twisted metal stretched on forever. At one point I had to start jumping from rooftop to rooftop since the cars were piled on top of one another.

  Why the highway? I could hear Kyle ask. It was an argument I’d heard time and again. It was a shorter route, but far more dangerous. There was a path that traveled downhill from the cliff, a little trail cut into the woods that twisted and turned until it dropped right into the heart of the city just near the barrier. That path took much longer, though, and added time to a journey I didn’t want to make in the first place. It didn’t need to be dragged out any longer.

  Jumping down from an overturned, faded blue sedan, I saw that The Fall awaited me, a twenty-five foot portion that had crumbled away. The opening was too big to jump across obviously. Instead, someone had pieced together a bridge.

  It was only a few pieces of rope, one for the feet, two for the hands, and a whole lot of nerve to cross the thing. The ends for the handles were tied off to huge chunks of cement boulders that had broken off from the bridge. The rope for the feet was attached to rusted metal rods that protruded out of the street. I had forgotten The Fall and its r
ope bridge, as stupid as it was, and dared the idea of backtracking and taking the extra time. This gap in the highway caused several deaths. Too many tried to cross the bridge at once a few months back. Their graves line the asphalt below.

  Taking a step towards the bridge, I causally gave the two hand ropes a tug to test their strength. They were taut and unwavering. Swallowing hard, I promised myself I wouldn’t look down. I focused on the far side and moved out into open space. My feet moved one in front of the other, feeling the rope without having to look at it. It was a slow process.

  A crack of thunder erupted just above me, though the storm was far away. It took my attention off the rope walkway for a second, but it was a second too long. A scream barely left my throat as both my feet slipped off the rope and I plummeted downward.

  Chapter 6: Glasses

  Only the instinct to swing my arms up stopped my fall as my right hand found the rope. I dangled over a fifty foot drop, straight onto broken concert.

  So much for not looking down.

  I gripped the rope with both hands. Swinging up my left leg, I managed to embrace it and get a firm hold. Blood started rushing to my head, and I was already dizzy from exhaustion. Sleep depravity was keeping me weak. How was I going to get to the other side like this? I risked the idea of falling as it would have been so much easier.

  “You alright buddy?” a shout erupted from the other side of the bridge. I turned and saw someone on the causeway. Several people surrounded the shouter. I was upside down, though, and couldn’t distinguish appearances or identify the voice.

  I didn’t say a word, not sure if they’d recognize me or not. There was maybe five of them, though my double vision likely multiplied the figures. The leader was wearing a black jacket that dropped almost to his knees. He wore a pair of sunglasses too. Beyond that, and from this distance, I couldn’t make out any other features.

  “Just hang tight, my man! I’ll get you outta there!” the leader shouted and near immediately took to the bridge. He walked across the ropes with the speed of a man who’d treaded them many times a day. It swayed side to side, seeming likely to give out any second.

  “Whoa...” I moaned. The rope walkway shivered. It was already hard enough to stay latched, and knew I couldn’t dangle like this for long. This man was almost running, throwing the ropes, and me, into havoc.

  “Deep breathes, upside down man. We built this bridge, it’ll hold. You just keep yourself right there,” the man in black instructed as he stopped just above me. He looked roughly the same age as me, though much more rugged. A full beard and several scars covered his face, while the sunglasses hid his eyes. He stood there with an outstretched hand.

  “Wait a second…” he said, nearly stunned. “Well, I’ll be damned!”

  “Jackson, is that you?” he whispered.

  He knew me, even upside down, but I was getting too dizzy to remember anything about him. I looked back at the others but nothing came to mind. A hand awaited by my face, opened and inviting. I looked back up at him and his smile sought my attention. Even if this was awkward, I couldn’t help but take his hand. If this was a ploy, and he were to let go, only open air and concrete below would stop the fall. But he lifted me back to the walkway as promised.

  “Jackson,” he whispered.

  My arms trembled with fatigue, but my mind was working overtime now. Should I know him? Out of the hundreds of people who call this place home, his face wasn’t one I could recall. I had so few friends left, and only knew of the ones that lived close to me.

  This man was from Downtown, and that was where everyone learned to hate me. I knew that the hate still lived there. It didn’t just go away. However, it wasn’t detestation that streamed off his tongue, or through that smile.

  “It’s been awhile,” he said.

  “It has been,” I replied, trying to sound friendly.

  “Well, let’s get you off this bridge, what do ya say?” He smiled again. Without wasting a moment he took off marching, though he kept turning back to make sure I was steady and upright. “They call me glasses. Don’t suppose you can guess why?” He laughed, turning back, and tilting his sunglasses up and down. “Never had the luxury of knowing my name. Never really cared, though, I suppose. What’s to a name anyway? It’s just sounds that relate us to a formality, right?”

  “I guess so.” We reached the end of the bridge. The others watched on in silence. They didn’t bear grins like Glasses. They held crooked smirks, frowns, crossed arms, and disapproving glares. They weren’t used to people crossing their bridge.

  What was my intent? Who was this stranger? In a city with so few of us left, a stranger wasn’t something you saw every day. Did one of them know me? Would they point me out, and shove me through the gap in the highway?

  “Hard to believe you’re here. Thought maybe you had turned, or worse. Glad to know you hadn’t,” Glasses exclaimed as he set his boots on concrete. He didn’t move out of the way as I reached him, instead he leaned in close and whispered, “You’re Will for now. Eyes on the ground and keep them there.” I followed his advice, clinging close to his side with my head turned down.

  “Look here, folks! Will has had quite an ordeal, and not one of you will speak to him until he’s back to normal! In fact, let’s do this. You three…” Glasses said and pointed at more than half his group. “Run over to my place and get me some clothes for our friend. I dare think he’s pissed himself. Stay together. Watch each other’s backs, and light the flare if you need to.”

  There were a few gasps, but without seeing their faces I couldn’t tell how many were disgusted by my supposed urination of my underwear.

  “You two will stay with me, but will be my eyes. You know what that means, right?” Glasses asked and nodded, looking for an answer. The other two moved ahead, going to different parts of the area around the highway. The one’s tasked with retrieving clothes sprinted away without a word.

  “That will keep everyone busy for a time,” Glasses said. “So, Will, what brings you down to our neck of the woods? Wait, wait I know! You’re here to see IT, aren’t you? Well I’ll be a son-of-a-bitch. I go from thinking you’re dead right back to thinking our hero comes riding in to save the day again.” Glasses chuckled. I tried to sense sarcasm, but found none.

  “Ahhhhhh…” I mumbled, dumbfounded.

  “Hey, it’s okay. I’m just glad you’re all well and good. Oh and how could I forget?” He snapped his fingers. “Olivia! How is that sweet girl doing?” Glasses’ smile widened. He had somehow remembered us, even though I didn’t have a clue who he was. Yet he was able to describe us in brilliant detail, right down to how Olivia had two different shades of blue eyes.

  “Bold as ever,” I remarked. “But safe, out of harm’s way.”

  “Good. No reason to get her involved in all of this. It’s been getting worse down here, you know. More are turning every day. Our food supplies are holding well, and water’s still flowing from that well, but that doesn’t exactly matter if we all turn twenty six anyway.” Glasses turned his face upwards, the sunlight bouncing off his shades.

  “What about the barrier…” I cut short, worried about how exactly I would phrase the question. The barrier and the turnings hung on my tongue, but I held back. It felt like eyes were watching and ears was listening, and if the wrong people heard me talk in such a way, then my Will identity might be a bust. But I needed to know why we turn at twenty-six and cross over the barrier.

  “Hmmmm?” Glasses questioned. He ducked below a beam from an overturned utilities truck that had caught fire on the expressway. The charred remains were only a broken shell. The ruined traffic started to lighten as we drew closer to the city. All the vehicles were pointing away from Downtown, as if driving away from whatever doom lingered in the veins of this metropolis.

  Glasses looked back again, and I saw my reflection bounce off those lenses. I shook my head refraining from continuing the conversation.

  We had come upon the off-ramp,
where the highway flowed towards the main level of the city. There was little rubble to impede our progress towards the town, but those black clouds rumbled ever closer.

  “Well, I suppose we should get to it then?” Glasses whispered. “Let’s get you to that tower, and see what you came all this way for. But first…” Glasses pointed at the two up ahead, his watchers, or more likely his lookouts. “We got a tail to lose.”

  “What are you suggesting?” I inquired.

  “Look, I trust them more than I trust myself, but your name is a little synonymous with a bit of filth.” I gave him a look that suggested to turn it around. “Hey, not me, no sir, I don’t believe the rumors. I remember what you did for us, and not what people say you did to us. Look, Jackson, it’s damn good to see you, and honestly I couldn’t be happier to have you back. If anyone can turn around what’s happening down here it’s you. That doesn’t change the fact that people would be out for your blood if they knew you were still alive, though. Hell, they held a public funeral for you when they assumed you had gone the way of the turning. It was a mighty party too, believe you me.” Glasses chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. He failed miserably.

  “Turn, it around,” I said, gritting my teeth. I didn’t need to know if my funeral was a good time or not.

  “Okay. Sorry, didn’t mean, uhh. Damn, I’m bad with words. Forget it, forget I said anything.” Glasses attempted a weak smirk, but it was forced.

  “Done.” I sighed. I shouldn’t be so hard on him. He did just save my ass back on the bridge. “So what’s the plan then?”

  “I’m going to keep you out of trouble. That means keeping you out of sight, out of sight out of mind. Weird saying, but it fits, don’t it?” He glanced at me, but must have seen my irritation building. “Okay, on my mark, follow me. Just keep it quick and silent.”