The Anomaly Affliction

Eleven

When my head finally pops up out of the water, I take deep breaths and spit.

I look around me. The water is brown and murky. It's no wonder they built the border wall to separate Nacoma from this polluted river. I tread water and it suddenly dawns on me that I'm not in Nacoma.

I'm not in Nacoma.

This is the first time I've ever been out of the Amber District, let alone the whole metropolis. Where can I go now? I can't just spend my life drifting in this river. I need to get out. But where?

I suddenly become aware of a raging pain in my abdomen. My hand, underwater, flies to my ribs and I want to cry out and keel over, but I can't. Not yet. I have to get out of this water first.

I look up and to my left, at the great off-white border wall of Nacoma. It isn't as high as I'd imagined it to be. Then again, why would it be that high? It's not like the builders of Nacoma expected people to jump over it. Every few metres there is a small, balconied platform with something that looks like a hook balanced on the edge of the balcony. Guard towers. I wonder what it's like to be a district guard stationed at the wall every night, having to just stand there and watch the wilderness all night. I wonder if it's eerie. I wonder if it's peaceful.

The sun is currently on the left side of me, meaning that it's west. It must be late afternoon, almost evening. I need to get away from Nacoma before it gets dark; before the guards come out, "pacify" me and take me back to Amber Hospital. Or maybe even MisMap Correctional Facility.

I never thought I'd be trying to get away from Nacoma. Away from where Lake is.

No. I can't think about that right now. I just need to concentrate on getting out of this river.

After several minutes of drifting along, trying to ignore the pain in my abdomen, I find a good spot to get out. I swim to the shore (on the side of the river furthest away from the wall) and manage to push through the pain and clamber out. I peer behind me to double check that Nacoma guards aren't on top of the wall, although I don't feel particularly worried about them. What I'm more worried about is the pain in my body that's making me want to yell. But I can't afford to concentrate on that now - my main focus is getting as far away from Nacoma as possible.

When I'm out of the rancid water, I crawl away from the riverbank and take a moment to catch my breath and dry off as much as I can. On the ground, I shake my arms and legs, water droplets flying off me, and squeeze some water out of my hair. I would love a shower, but unless I climb over the border wall and go home - which is not an option right now - I'm going to have to suck it up. I'm also going to have to suck up this pain I'm feeling. I force myself to stand up, gritting my teeth, and grip my abdomen. It hurts to stand up straight, but I do my best.

I look out to the horizon. Everywhere I look (except behind me) is wasteland. What happened to this place? Weren't all land masses meant to be full of life a long time ago? Now all that's left of this one is Nacoma, a place of forced happiness and mind control, and...this. This emptiness. It looks like the further away from Amity River you walk, the more dried up and barren the ground becomes. It goes from being a vaguely green colour to a dull beige. Wasn't this once a lively place? I like to think that it was.

I squint my eyes. There seems to be something on the horizon; some sort of settlement with a tall structure. I can't see what it is from here, but everywhere else I just see emptiness, so I guess that thing on the horizon is my only option.

Taking one last look behind me at the home that I am about to abandon, I start to walk away.

As the sun gets further and further to my left, the sky begins to darken and walking becomes more tiresome. Walking is difficult already because of my aching abdomen, but it gets even more so over time. Soon I'm nothing but a hungry, tired, aching, overwhelmed mess. With each step my feet become heavier; with each breath the air becomes colder. My heart is pounding inside my chest and all I can think is that I need rest. I look up. The sky is a deep orange colour, getting darker. Soon it'll be completely dark, and I'll be freezing...unless I miraculously manage to dry off before then.

Eventually it becomes clear that the settlement is a fairly small scrapyard, and the tall structure I saw is a large elevated screen, about the size of my bedroom wall at home. Of course - I'm used to screens being everywhere. I guess I'm not as far away from Nacoma as I thought. As I approach the scrapyard, I realise I have nothing to use to protect myself if I need to. I don't know what dangers are out here, if there are any. I should find a place to settle down for the night that isn't out in the open.

I venture wearily into the scrapyard, staring up at all the stacks of cars that surround me. I've never seen so many cars all in one space. There are tall stacks of cars, shorter stacks of cars, and some solitary cars on the ground. Maybe I can sleep in one of those.

I make my way over to a red car on the ground, beside an extremely tall stack of cars. The door is slightly ajar and looks unstable. I pull it open, using what little strength I have left, and see that the foot space for the passenger seat is taken up by a heap of tin cans. Cans...maybe that means food. I bend over, almost grunting in pain, and pick up one of the cans. Using my fingernails, I rip open the can and see that it's filled with shredded pale meat. It looks like chicken. The meat neither looks nor smells particularly appealing, but I know that it's my only option for tonight. I dig my fingers in and stuff some of the meat in my mouth. It tastes like nothing.

There's a black car with no wheels a few metres away from the red one, facing the huge screen overhead. Maybe I can sleep in there. Stuffing some more meat into my mouth, I make my way over to the black car and pull open the door, then sit in the passenger seat and close the door. It's a relief to finally be sitting down. If I'd done any more walking, my legs would've given up on me for sure. Hopefully my abdomen will get its shit together soon.

I have a perfect view of the screen from here, but I doubt that there's a remote control anywhere nearby. There may be a screen but this is not Nacoma; this is not home. This is just a scrapyard I've found - a temporary home, I guess. I don't want to be here forever, but it'll have to do for now.

It's so quiet here. The only sound I can hear is my chewing. Despite the sheer isolation and silence of this place, this is not the loneliest Saturday night I've had. There have been worse nights - nights when I've had nothing except the nearest sharp implement to keep me company; nights when I've had nothing to do except sit in my room wishing I wasn't alive; nights when I've felt so small, so utterly inconvenient, that I've just wished for my life to be over. I don't feel like that tonight. I just feel...exhausted.

Peering out the car windows, I wonder how far away the nearest human is. Probably back in Nacoma. How far away is Nacoma? How far did I walk today? How far am I from Lake?

As I finish the meat and put the can in the driver's seat beside me, I finally realise just what a mess I've made today. This morning I woke up in my little bed in my little house in the Amber District, dreading my SentiVaccines. Now I'm going to fall asleep in an abandoned car in a desolate scrapyard in the middle of nowhere, with no plan for what the hell I'm going to do next. I have made a mess today. I'm away from my home, from my girlfriend, from my life - and I have no idea what to do. I'm away from everything I know...I just wonder if anyone cares.

I sigh, put my head back, and close my eyes. I'll think about what to do tomorrow.

For now, I just need to sleep.