Capsule

Chapter 18

Six days. Six days of rigorous disassembly and re-assembly. Six days of stripping down the hundreds of cars across the massive city looking for parts. Six days of cooking dead wolves in the back of a rusty car. Six days of vigorously pedalling the bike generator every two hours when Epsilon's battery ran out. Six days of finally fitting the correct part in place, only for it to break as soon as he let go. Six days of nearly being blinded by Epsilon's projector as they show him what to do. Six days of scavenging in collapsing buildings for firewood, of slowly filling the water tank with snow, of cutting through the thick snow back and forth and back and forth and thinking about Yonge constantly. Six days of not knowing what he is doing. Six days of desperately rationing his precious duct tape.

On day three, Synth thought the car was fixed, but when he went to test it, the replacement drive shaft fell out and nearly pole-vaulted the car. The whole time he felt a presence. As if someone were looking over his shoulder saying:

"What the hell are you doing to my car?"

On the morning of the seventh day, Synth sits in the driver's seat with his forehead on the wheel. The fire crackles behind him, and Epsilon is strapped into the passenger's seat. The bike generator is stuffed between the two seats.

"Yonge, if you can hear me, I need this car to move." Synth says. "Epsilon has chewed my ear off about all-season tires, but, please. I could really use your help."

He starts to open the valves one-by-one. The wheels spin out in the snow at first, but just as Synth is about to lose hope, the car lurches forwards. He laughs in excitement.

"Epsilon Dowers, you son of a bitch, we did it!" Synth shouts.

The car slowly moves into the massive city, pressing down the sea of footprints with its solid rubber tires. Synth looks up at the overcast sky as they drive through the city.

"You have a built-in compass, right?" Synth asks.

"Yes, why?" Epsilon asks.

"We're gonna need it once we leave the city if the weather keeps up. We used the sun as a marker when we drove."

"I see. Take a left up here. We will have to make a detour around 'ground zero'"

"Understood."

Through the thick snowy blanket, some vegetation can still be seen. Vines and ivy, pausing their climb up the corporate ladder, trees poking their heads out from the warmth of the underground pipes, as they drive, they hear the hiss of tall grass rubbing against their tires through the snow. They pass by a pine tree that has wrapped itself around a traffic light for support. The broken LED bulbs drip with sap. In the ruins of a nearby convention centre, a fox does a nosedive into the snow. The city is silent aside from the loud hum of the steam engine.

"This city was beautiful in the winter." Epsilon reminisces. "Yes, there was light, sound, and air pollution, but on a frigid December morning, the snow hid all the city's impurities. The streets were bustling with people trying to make extra money to make the holidays special for their families. Steam would rise from the local coffee shops as people huddled together to keep warm. On the slushy sidewalks, children would build snowmen next to parking meters. But if you looked up, away from the hustle and bustle of the streets, you saw the Calgary skyline, massive skyscrapers reaching up into the crisp blue sky. Your species made a mess of this planet. However, if you took a step back and looked at your world from a distance, it was beautiful. As if your goal was to paint a mural, but all you could find was lead paint."

"Have you been here before?" Synth asks.

"Before the Evacuation, my purpose was to run surveillance and collect data everywhere IZI had a presence. It sounds overwhelming stating that IZI had branches on all seven continents...."