What is Left

1

"Damn this heat," I said, kicking at the sand shifting beneath my boot-clad feet. My eyes shifted over the horizon, ignoring the mirages created by the glaring sun in search of the little dome I'd grown to associate with Oasis. Even though dad and Uncle Jerem built it for the town when I was 9, I still couldn't wrap my head around the idea of an artificial oxygen rich atmosphere. Sure, we all had been able to survive before, but we certainly weren't flourishing in those conditions. Only after dad and Uncle Jerem figured out how to derive oxygen from carbon dioxide did everyone in town perk up a bit. Pasco took over the upkeep of Oasis's oxygen and water creation after our dads' accident and the rest, they say, is history.

As I grew closer to the dome, I reached into my bag and began to pull out all the items I'd scavenged from some old military base to present to Rocko, my favorite security guard. Technically, we weren't allowed to bring weapons into Oasis. Of course, that didn't stop everyone and their grandmother from owning at least a couple of phasers and a good knife or two and Rocko turning a blind eye when someone brought that type of stuff in.

"Hiya, Rocko! What's up with you today?" I said as I handed him each of my items one by one. His eyes crinkled merrily as he replied with his normal quip about making sure this damn city didn't get any crazier as he placed each item gingerly on the table beside him.

"Pasco sure asked for a lot today." He commented noncommittally.

"Don't I know it...." Rubbing at my shoulder where my bag's strap had dug into it, I glared down at the near 30 pounds of metal junk Pasco had had the audacity to plead me to look for.

"Tell him Rocko says hi and to try not to set the garage on fire again, okay? The whole town was talking about that one for weeks, kiddo."

"Thanks, Rocko, I'll be sure to tell him," I replied as I shoved all those dumb hunks of metal back into my bag and waited for the heavy titanium door to scrape open to Oasis.

Once inside, one wouldn't have thought Oasis was located on a dead planet. Grass and trees grew on every corner, and past town square there were several miles of farm land all covered by the dome. Children roamed the streets like pint sized beasts and motorbikes with people of all ages zipped by, puttering away on nothing but energy from the sun itself. When people said the town is an Oasis, they didn't just mean it in the fact that there were trees and water and all that shit. War hadn't been had there since before the Great Move and people looked happy and healthy despite the high temperatures and the arid surroundings past the dome.
After a large debate as to whether or not to treat myself to a pastry from Mrs. Zimmerman's bakery, I continued past the town center and onwards towards the apartment buildings in the outskirts of town. I flung the door to our apartment wide open after keying in the code and was greeted by all six foot 5 inches of my favorite half black half Asian cousin glaring at a computer screen like it had just insulted his mother.

"Pasco, the fuck, man. I come home from a hard day scavenging through ruins for you in the blazing sun and don't even get a hello?" I said as I tossed down his bag of crap on the couch and started a path towards the fridge. Pasco, the bastard, only waved his hand noncommittally at me in greeting. Honestly, it seemed more like a shoo-shoo motion than a wave hello, but of course he'd've denied it.

Munching on an apple, I moved towards the window and peered lovingly out at my garden. Although I was a fairly decent scavenger, I usually tried to leave the scavenging to the professionals and stick with my true love: gardening.

I know, I know. Not exactly the most bad ass of professions, but it's what I did best. The feel of the soil under my hands helped clear my head and really grounded me to that big, dry hunk of rock. I had tried to introduce Pasco to the wonders of gardening at one point, but he had claimed it to be "too boring" and "my great-great-great-great-great-great-great" (at this point he kept repeating great until he ran out of breath) "grandmother might have been a slave, but that doesn't mean I want to act like one." I didn't try again after that.

"Yo, asshole," I called out from my spot at the window, "what type of weather are you gonna make these next couple of days?"

"Partly cloudy with 10 minute rain at 2 hour intervals tomorrow, full sun all day Friday." He replied, not even bothering to look up from whatever it was that he was messing with.

"Alright, cool. I think I'm gonna go check on the plants then head on out to the greenhouse."

"Cool, veggie scramble for dinner tonight?"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just use up some of those eggs we have before they spoil."

"Alright. Pick up milk while you're out."

I sighed as he called that last bit out to me. He KNEW I didn't like milk, but still insisted like some mother hen that I drank it. Just because he was five years older than me didn't mean he needed to treat me like a child. I grabbed my wallet out of my satchel and headed out the door towards my garden. It had been a well controlled spring so far, not too much rain or sun, and I knew from both my conversations with the people in charge of the green house and several other small time farmers that their crops were just as bountiful as mine. Fortunately, we had all agreed to sell different things to different peoples and to let the greenhouse be the main supplier for the market when fall came so I had no worries about competition.

I grinned and dusted of my knees after crawling around my garden on the look out for any sign of bug infestation or root rot and closed the gate to the empty lot by our apartment. I was lucky that Pasco made enough to rent that small lot. Despite the multiple attempts made by the greenhouse on the edge of town to hire me, I never agreed to do so on the principle that I knew the corporation behind our greenhouse was pure evil. Not just kind of terrible, straight up evil. I knew that if I had ever agreed to join up there, several people would have lost their jobs to my efficiency (not to brag). However, I was more than willing to give tips to people at the greenhouse under the knowledge that the more I helped the people there, the better their pay checks would be.

Realizing that I'd been staring down at my plants and had been grinning for about five or ten minutes, I decided that I should probably start headed for the greenhouse if I wanted to make it back home before sunset. I shuffled out of there as quick as I could, careful to shut the gate behind me, then started to make my way across the street.

"EKIE!! WATCH OUT!!" were the last words I heard before I felt the impact.