Black Rain

                                                                                                                                                            
     The fog from my breath condenses on my face in the cold night air. White light from the moon cascades through the canopy of trees illuminating the path down to the lake edge. Each step putting me closer to Cattoll Lake as I shuffled through the crunching leaves. In order to get down to the water, there was a steep drop off caused by the water lapping at the long exposed sedimentary layers. I walked to the edge of the small cliff and grabbed a half-blackened tree to stabilize my descent. The tree was covered in large amounts of soot that stuck to my hands. The wind from the lake is unimpeded which allows soot to be plastered against the lake facing side of the tree. Jumping down from the precipice on to the soft sugar sand, I hear the sound of the trees whipping in the wind. My leg hurt badly from the cut I obtained by tripping over some large branches the day prior. I needed to make sure I kept the wound clean to avoid infection.
     I brushed my hands together to attempt to remove the black soot, but it is near impossible to get off of your skin. The air smelt of smog and rot from decay and neglect. Nothing made a sound around here anymore besides the natural elements.  Sitting down on the damp sand, I closed my eyes listening to the water eroding just in front of me.
     In my younger years, I swam in the now grimy lake every summer with the rest of my friends. We splashed and played until we were so red from the sun’s rays it hurt to move. The water always glistened in the light of the sun outlining the sea weed patches teeming with underwater critters. I remember the largemouth bass, brim and trout you could see darting away from one’s gaze. The small minnows, that would swim to the surface for anything thing, were always great bait. The meals you could have with just a couple of fish. The fish now are smaller and much fewer in number to be even noticed let alone caught. Fishing would mostly likely result in a broken line stuck with the rest of the trash and waste in the lake. Besides it’s not as if the fish are safe for consumption anyways. 
     I touched the frigid water to attempt to remove the soot, but instead felt the thin veil of slime made up of algae and waste from runoff, on the top of the water. I flicked the viscous substance off my finger back into the larger cesspool. To think, this place once harbored a flourishing ecosystem. With all this algae and waste on top it’s surprising that anything in this lake is still living.  Standing up from my spot on the shore, I dusted off coarse sand from my tattered clothing and trotted down towards the direction of the encampment.
     I wonder if the others ever miss me while I’m on these trips. Without the group, I would be lost in this world. They took me in even when they didn’t have enough for themselves. Luckily, walking east down the shoreline leads to our enclave on the hill. I need to get these supplies to the group. They are my priority.
     The trees were swaying in the breeze just leaning far enough to block some of the moon’s glare. Following the bank to the swamp would be my best option. The swamp isn’t the safest place, but I need to get to get back to dress this wound. It has been a while since I have seen an animal near the lake. In order to find supplies, I had to go to the outskirts and even out there I’ve only seen a squirrel. Either the animals in this area died in the lake or fled to look for a more hospitable place. Nothing survives here alone.
    The underside of my shoes became slick as I walked over a patch of algae washed ashore. The air still smelt putrid as always becau walking se of these patches of rotting algae and oxygen poor lake basin that traps gases beneath. As I kept, I noticed my breaths becoming shallow once I inched closer to the lower lying swamps. The swamp is called Falling Swamp, by the others, as those who manage to fall in are preserved under the oxygen poor soil and water.
     I stepped over the exposed roots of a rotting tree that had become water logged. Staring up into the sky, I noticed the moon was concealed from view. Walking further along, the natural bank began to fall off revealing the swamp covered in duckweed. A large dense smog descended over the area. The smell of the swamp was even worse than the lake as the noxious scent of sulfur is pungent.
      In a matter of minutes, I could barely see two paces ahead of me. I coughed and felt a burning pain in my chest. It dawned on me that if I don’t get out of this smog I will begin to suffocate and suffer the same fate as many others. My backpack was full of necessary supplies for the group and if I died, this trip would have all been for naught. I turned around and reached into my bag for one of the torn pieces of cloth. To help my breathing, I wrapped the thick cloth around my mouth, nose and head to ensure a tight fit. I know if I keep following this lake edge, I should begin to go up hill to the encampment to escape this smog.
     A small strip separated the lake and swamp, but both were equally horrendous in nature. Falling into either the lake or swamp wouldn’t be ideal as the cut on my leg could get infected. The strip began to thin until I had no choice, but to veer away from the lake and into the swamp. I hopped a two-foot gap onto a small island with a fallen tree. Many trees had fallen into the swamp creating make shift walk ways to get from one area of land to the next. The islands are surrounded by cat tails so distinguishing land from water proves difficult.
     The logs were covered in a slick substance that proved difficult to maneuver. My leg was being irritated by the constant movement, but I can’t risk dying out here. Reaching each small patch of solid ground, was like a minor victory to my larger goal, surviving. Without this cloth, I could be in much worse condition, but I am beginning to feel the effects on my body. My leg was hurting more and more resulting in each step with my right leg being followed by a wince of pain. I could feel the fine dust seeping into my leg from the air. Each breath brought excruciating pain to my lungs and throat as the particulates coated the surfaces despite the covering. There is only so much a person can do to protect themselves from the harsh realities of our world.
     Leaning into the distance, I notice the terrain beginning to change as the shallow swamp gave way to rough jagged rocks that went up at an angle. I could either stay here in the deadly fog or risk the jump from this log to the rocks. Attempting to catch my breath, I jumped in hopes of grabbing and holding on to a rock sticking out of the natural wall. I landed on my right leg and cried out in pain. My wound had reopened as I landed and could feel the warm liquid welling up in the laceration. Getting my bearings, I observed the surroundings and looked to my right.  A wave of hope rushed over me. This was the base of the hill I was looking for. I wasn’t home free just yet. I noticed blood trickling down my leg so I took another piece of cloth from my bag and tightly dressed my wound. It wasn’t disinfected, but the wound needed to be covered.
     The fog was thinner near the rocks, but not thin enough for my safety. A loud cry pierces the air behind me. My heart begins to pound in my ears. I tried to turn to look, but if I did I would fall into the swamp behind me. I haven’t heard any signs of life by this lake in years. No animal would be able to survive out here in this desecrated terrain. I haven’t seen anything other than humans in these woods let alone something that could produce such a loud sound. My lungs felt more inflamed and irritated as I became startled. Needing to survive, I ignored the noise and felt my way through the smog as I side stepped along the rocks to the smoother side of the hill. The cold wet rock face fading into root systems lead to a more open grassy field. Rounding the corner of the natural wall, I began to feel the air become thinner slowly relieving my lungs of the searing pain. I hobbled over into the clearing, taking off the make-shift headscarf and begin to take in the “fresh” air.
     I flop down in the grass, dropping my backpack and resting for my final trek up the hill to safety. I don’t want to strain myself for risk of fainting from blood loss and hypoxia. The cloth I used to dress my wound was beginning to have blood seep through it. I began using the other piece of cloth to apply extra pressure to the wound because of the excess blood. Turning my head, I look up the hill to the tree line at the top. The air at the height of the hill is free from the smog clouds as it is higher than they can reach. I can feel the coolness of the grass on my sore back and tense shoulders.
     The wind seems to have picked up since exiting the swamp or maybe fear of death caused me to be less observant of the changes to wind. I sit up to feel the rise and fall of my chest become less irregular once more. Lifting myself off the ground, I heave my backpack over my shoulder and begin walking up the hill. I became more and more excited at the prospect of seeing the others as it has been nearly two weeks since I last saw them. In order to get enough supplies, I have had to go farther and farther each supply run. Maybe that’s how it is for the animals, exhausting limited resources, having to go farther and farther to obtain food.
     I begin running in the grass up the hill, until I hear the piercing cry once more. I stop and turn around to face my ear in the perceived direction of the sound. The woods and swamp below stood still. Off in the distance, I see a white four-legged figure shirk away into the night as the moon light is obscured by the trees. Seeing an animal at all was good news because they had to have a reason to be close to his hell hole, right? The others will be delighted to learn of my discovery.
     Reaching the camp’s edge, I see the hexagonal metal walls with the dome atop covered by the tree canopy. The sun was beginning to come up which illuminated the figure of the structure. The air up here was far more tolerable than the air within the swamp and lake. There was no path leading to this place in order to avoid unwanted travelers who we wouldn’t be able to provide for.
     Looking to the right of the structure, I see the sun outlining the whole of the lake and the light bouncing through the smog in the swamp causing a minor glow. This world may be desolate and hostile, but it still sheds beauty.
     As I approached the airlock doors, I put my face close to the camera to be identified by the facial recognition inside. The small icon began to spin signifying loading. While I waited for entry, I turned to look back into the woods at the foot of the hill where I saw the creature. I wonder why it was here of all places? Are there other places to go or is the creature so desperate it came here? Feeling uneasy, the airlock began to open as the hairs on my neck started to bristle. Walking into the chamber, the doors slowly closed blocking out the rising sun’s light. The air begins to filter and spray from the walls in order to disinfect my body. The red lights above each door flashed bright red. The light turned green as I stepped forward. As the secondary doors open, the light comes sprawling through the crack in the door. The main hall was very long and led to many other rooms. The chrome walls reflected the fluorescent lights and made the hall feel much brighter. I strode down the corridor as my footsteps echoed through the metal surroundings. The majority of the facility was featureless as anything else would require more up keep and materials. In a resource hungry world, simplicity is how you survive. The hall on the left leads to the main living quarters attached to the dining area. I didn’t see or hear anything to suggest human presence so I began to call out to them.
“Hey, where is everyone?”
     My voice bounced throughout the halls to every section of the facility.
     I rounded the corner and opened the main door to the living quarters. Upon opening the door, the smell of rot smacked me on my ass. Fear over took my body. An assortment of scenarios were running through my head. Tossing my back pack down, I run into the various rooms of my peers. The beds were empty and made as though no one has been in the room in a while. Not a single sign of life or remnants of life except the smell of decay. 
     Reaching the dining room, I notice multiple people through the window in their seats. Opening the door, I am hit with an even more strong smell of death. Everyone was seated at their respected spots at the table, but the room was lifeless. All of them were dead and rotting as bacteria inside their bodies began making many of them bloat. They didn’t appear to have any noticeable physical trauma, but rather died in this state of communion. My emotions felt like they were pinging around inside of me. Their frames were emaciated and frail signifying they were dead for a while. Unable to hold back, throwing myself to the ground, I begin to grovel and weep in my own sorrow. Through my tears, I look to the right of the table out the window overlooking the lake. Crawling over to the window, it began to rain as the light from the sun touched every corner of the room.
     I rub my face and a tear falls to the floor with a small splash of mud from the grime on my skin. Rocking back and forth, the grim reality of what my new existence entails hitting me like a wall. Standing up and composing myself, I began to inspect the bodies more closely. This was a suicide pact. How else could they all die in such a staged manner? The world is falling apart even from within because to live is to delay the inevitable end. At least they left together and not alone.
    Grabbing my bag from the living quarters, I begin to stride back down the hall to the airlock. My footsteps echoing into the depths of the facility, I rush to escape the horrors within. The memory of the others all sitting at the table lifeless may follow me outside, but I sure don’t have to stay here to be reminded. My mind is beginning to feel numb. I feel as though I’m screaming but only in the back of my mind.
     Once again going into the airlock, I awaited the doors opening in order to release me of this nightmare. The sound of silence was never louder. The light flashed red then the light flashed green signifying my departure.
      The doors opened as light funneled into the airlock and I stepped outside into the world. The rain was still just that of a drizzle, but enough to wash away some of the grime from my eyes. I looked around at the landscape from the swamp, to the woods, and the lake to think of a plan of action. Where am I to go? What am I to do without other people?
      The rain began to pick up so I pulled a tarp from my bag to wear like a poncho. I swear I heard rustling in the bushes nearest to me. Turning rapidly, I pull a knife from my pocket just in case. The crinkling of the tarp surely made whatever is there aware of me. I hear another rustle just a few feet from the first noise. All I can hear now is the sound of rain hitting the leaves on the ground and the tarp being pelted with water. In an instant, a huge black creature jumps forth from the bushes. Moving back, I realize that this was not the same thing I saw at the forest edge. The muscles of the animal were burly and the paws were large enough to crush my skull easily. The beast snarled at me as a warning growl. I have my hands outstretched after dropping the knife and looking straight into the animal’s eyes. I reached to push the button of the airlock to try and get back inside. The beast was quicker. Its pupils dilate before it jumps at me and grabs my neck with its huge jaws. The sound of growling and the breaking of vertebrae fills my skull. My whole body is going limp.  The sky begins to be filled with red as I hear the ripping of my own flesh. I start to fall into the blanket of darkness; the world begins to hum and fade into red.
     The animal continues to tear into his flesh as the rain dilutes the last human’s blood into the Earth. “Dawn brings with it the secrets of the night.”