Exploring New York

January 1st

So we begin. This part of the once great city hasn't been touched since the war. As the radiation has cleared, it is safe to explore it for future habitation, if the population grows enough.

No! These entries are just to write down what we find. Not to ponder about the unknown future. Unknowable, that is a better word. 

So we set out, walking across the Manhattan bridge. New York, I always wanted to go here, never imagined it would be like this. 

Only small bombs were exploded here, the war lost already. So we see some buildings still standing, as we make our way across the bridge. The harbor was hit at the beginning of the war and it never got a chance to be rebuilt. Piles of torn apart ships and smaller craft line the shoreline. The ocean, indifferent to what man does, washes across them, pulling some back out with her tide. I wonder how many years it will take for her to clear her shore.

I say this to Billy and he says, ‘Don’t be such a girl. It doesn't matter Chloe.’

It does matter though if we want our children to be able to play on it again.

Here I go again, speaking of things I don't know that will happen. Twenty years after the war that destroyed our country, we those that were children then, we have to see if rebuilding society is even possible. It isn't assured.

We exit the bridge and enter the city proper. Streets lined with long abandoned cars, buildings slowly being taken back over by nature. We have seen it before but here, seeing what was called in our parents and grandparents time, the city that never sleeps, now permanently asleep, it hits differently. 

By the time we make it into the city, the sun is setting. Camp is made on a clear patch of road.

January 2nd

Another thing that is hard to get used to is how the war, particularly the radiation from it, has changed the weather. January in New York, and it isn't cold. A bit cool but not cold. We wear jackets but no coats as we fold the tents up, placing them back in the backpacks. Besides myself and Billy, there is Dan, Kelly, and Mike along for this scouting expedition.

A meal is made of granola, dried fruit, jerky, and bottled water, and we start back out. Another thing we are looking for, besides habitable dwellings, is food. Canned food that could survive the fallout. 

The animals are slowly coming back. Hunting, though, is forbidden until their population increases enough. Food is becoming an issue.

We walk up the eerily quiet street, our footfalls the only sound. Above us the pigeons react to our presence with noisy calls.

“I wonder what they have been eating,” Kelly says, “with no old people to feed them.”

Billy's laugh is hard and bitter. “The old people of course.”

She turns white and I give him a dirty look. “Billy!”

He shrugs.

“They aren't carron birds.” Mike adds.

“Until they had no choice.” A subdued Dan says.

The dead. We tried to bury all we could. Even doing the best we could, there will still be a lot. In places like these, well, their number doesn't bare thinking about. We instinctively move closer to each other.

“The warnings were sounded in time.” Kelly tries to make us all feel better about the graveyard we are traveling through.

“Yes, but how many shelters do you think there are here?” Dan climbs over a pile up blocking our path. He helps the rest of us over.

“There was plenty of time to prepare.”

“They didn't think they would be bombed,” Billy's tone is bitter. A bit older than the rest of us, he went through more things he remembers, “they were too important. The war had almost ended. “

We all grow quiet then. It is a graveyard we are walking through, and we feel the weight of that.

The building's empty eyes, reflected by the sun, stare daggers at us. We enter the first one we come too. It was a small convenience store. The shelves are half stocked, like they were awaiting a delivery that will never come. Bottles have broken and we gingerly make our way through the broken glass. Cuts can be treated but the risk of infection isn't worth taking. Some from our group have died from simple infections.

The can stuff is examined. Anything not swollen and therefore canned right, is gathered up. The freezer section is foul and we avoid it. The newspaper rack is full of dusty newspapers whose headlines talk of peace negotiations.

I lift one up. At their looks, I say, “For the future children. It is a historical document.”

Billy rolls his eyes probably at the talk of future people but Kelly smiles.

All day, it is the same thing. Entering the buildings, trying to ignore the smells of rot, salvaging what we can. I make it a point to collect all the different newspaper copies, placing them in my backpack. The food is placed in a big rolling wagon and we take turns pulling it.

The second night we bed down in the lobby of a hotel. 

January 3rd

“We should check out the subways.” Billy suggests as we get ready to start off. It isn't a bad idea just…

“They are a bit… eerie.” Kelly says what I was thinking. 

“Oh, stop being such a girl!” 

Dan stiffens beside me. He and Kelly are, whatever together is in this dystopian new world. “Billy, stop putting them, any of us, down for not being as brave as you.”

Billy sighs, staring out into the distance, seemily looking at the rising skyscrapers but probably at nothing. “Look, we just can't be timid. I know this is all nightmare inducing. It isn't that I don't sympathize. I do. It is just that we have a job to do. No matter how distasteful it is. I am sorry Kelly,” recalling that he also said something similar to me, he adds, “sorry Chloe.”

We both acknowledge his apology with nods. Mike slips his hand into mine. We aren't what Dan and Kelly are but, we are heading that way.

“He is right. That is the next logical step.” We walk towards the nearest opening. 

January 30th

To whoever finds this and reads it: Stay out of New York! Stay out of the subways! The survivors aren't exactly human. They are…