The Split

Chapter 28

Boston, 2085

We winded through the city slowly. The streets seemed emptier than usual for an early afternoon. There was nothing but patrol cars and soldiers until a few blocks later when we saw a man holding a young girl sitting on a bench. As we drove uptown the amount of people outside grew. The battle scarred and dully colored jungle changed slowly to the bright colors and bustling community of Boston in my youth. We were nearing the area where Bloc citizen's lived, and the upscale look of the area showed it.

Luce stopped the truck at a mostly empty parking lot off of a main street. Leaving the engine idling, he got out and ran across the street to an old Irish pub. The sign looked ancient, but the holographic beer and liquor ads behind the glass brought the place back into the present.

For a few minutes he disappeared inside the door. Cy pulled up the map to Washington as we waited, searching for the best possible route. We could hear Sarah humming behind us, tapping the side of the truck in time. Soon, Luce came back outside. He looked both ways and walked quickly back across the street, getting back into the truck and throwing it into reverse the second he sat down.

"How'd it go?" Cy asked, noting his hurried behavior.

"Exchange went fine," he arched his neck out to see past me before turning onto the street, "Same shit as usual, he said to be checking for a new transmission, thank you for your continued service, blah blah blah. It felt... off though. Faces I didn't like and a tense atmosphere you know?"

We nodded, "I'll keep an eye on it. Glad you made it out. Get on the interstate, I think I found a good way down to Washington."

For an hour we drove down the highway, cruising at a good pace, light poles and trees alike a blur as we weaved in and out through cars and other trucks. Just an hour outside of New York we hit traffic. We were moving at 15 km or so and changed lanes at every opportunity. At Luce's request we took the wheel. Hours passed as we patiently navigated the sea of vehicles.

Through the silence in the truck, me and Cyrus talked, passing the time with passionate discussions about the future, my purpose being here, and what waited us in Washington.

Though we had both seen the same vision we had interpreted it differently. Cy insisted that the pink shape most likely had been an extraterrestrial being that had been detained by the US government. I instead thought the form was a physical manifestation of an advanced warlike AI that had been developed, citing a video game I had played in my youth. Cyrus laughed at this, insisting primitive video games were no indication of the future. This sparked another discussion and before we could finish, traffic cleared and our speed picked up.

We drove fast but stayed out of the left lane, not wanting to draw too much attention. Looking out of the corner of Cyrus' eye I examined the city. Even in my day the upper East Coast had been densely populated. I remembered trips up the highway from Maryland to Maine and how the whole area seemed to blend into one giant city.

The buildings were all still there, but the occupants were missing. Most of the structures would've fit into the Boston neighborhood we had just left. Scorch marks covered most of the walls still fortunate enough to be standing. The streets were covered in rubble, remains from the buildings nearby, and concrete dust. It seemed we would drive miles without seeing people, or even a car, moving through the crumbling neighborhoods.

Every 10 km stretch or so the scene would change to the picturesque America of before, vibrant banner ads and bright sleek buildings. People covered the scene, moving about quickly. All of the people from the ruined area around were here it seemed.