The Decay

Chapter 37 - Earhart Town

37

“What's that over there?” asked Mike. After crossing a river east of Tufts University, Mike and Anita were walking along it towards the center of Boston when they noticed a large dam. “It's a dam. Someone has definitely expanded on it recently. Look at the size of that thing!” said Anita. Mike realized she was right; the dam had a large platform the size of half a football pitch extending in the opposite direction from them. The tower had been repaired and stood high – a good look-out point for snipers. Removing the binoculars from her backpack, Anita looked at the Dam, checking for movement. There was plenty. “I think it's some form for city. We could see if someone knows something about John.” Mike nodded in agreement. “Let's go then.”

Approaching the only entrance, they both raised their arms, indicating their disinterest in looking for trouble. A man in his twenties stood on a platform immediately inside. “Do you have money?” Mike exchanged a brief look with Anita. “Money? Why would you care?” he asked. “This is Earhart Town. We're known for gambling. If you're broke, get out of my sight.” Mike chuckled. “We have money. And weapons too, if you care.” The man disappeared for a moment before the metal gate opened. “Come in. Hurry up,” said the man. Mike and Anita did as told. “Any form for weapons go in there. They will be returned to you again when leaving,” he said, pointing at a container near a security check point. “Show me the money.” Mike opened the backpack and pulled out a pouch of gold coins. The man examined its contents before placing two of the coins into his own pocket. “A welcome tax. Now go waste the rest gambling.” Mike took the pouch silently and, after leaving the duffel bag and both their knives and revolvers, they headed into the main part of the small town.

As they entered, they realized that there really wasn't much to this town. Two large buildings had been built on the near side of the platform, facing the entrance; the one of the left a casino, the one on the right a motel. On the far side of the platform were two rows of eight tents and a row of four. It appeared that the four tents were two shops, a form for cafe and a doctor's clinic. The two rows of tents were homes. These people value gambling and tourists more than their own homes, thought Mike, incredulously.

Opening the doors to the motel, they entered a cozy little reception area consisting of a desk, two wooden chairs and a decorative vase on a small table. The light was dim, barely lighting up the dirty-green walls. “Can I help you?” sounded a visibly-bored woman sitting behind the desk. “Erm, yes please. Do you have a room for two?” asked Anita. Without looking at them, she grabbed a key from the wall behind her and handed it to Anita. “Up the stairs, second room on the right. Rent is three gold coins a day, if you break anything you pay for it.” Anita thanked her and, key in hand, went upstairs with Mike. They opened the door and entered the room.

“So, is it supposed to look like this or did a nuke go off in here?” asked Mike sarcastically. The room was small, dark and broken. A bed with more-or-less clean sheets filled half the room. A desk, a chair and a small wardrobe filled the rest. The brown walls were scratched, white colour showing underneath. The only lamp in the room hung from the ceiling and looked as if it was about to fall. The window located at the far end of the room was broken, a constant breeze of air entering. A doorframe in the right corner nearest to the entrace led to the bathroom. A toilet and a sink, nothing else. “Well, at least there's a roof over our heads,” said Anita, trying to sound enthusiastic, but failing miserably. Dropping the backpack on the floor, she jumped onto the bed, exhausted. Mike soon followed suit and put his arms around her. As they fell asleep, it looked as if he was shielding her from a hundred dangers.