The Lost And The Wicked

Chapter 4

 

 CHAPTER 4

Zhane shakes me back to reality. “What’s wrong, Mandy?”

“E…everything is wrong! It’s the middle of the day. These streets are supposed to be buzzing with activity.” I point at the skyscrapers’ carcasses. “Those buildings should be filled with people.” I point at a nearby Burger Queen, or rather what is left of it. The glass of the building has been shattered completely. The inside is filled with tattered tables and broken chair pieces. The outer playplace has obviously not seen the bristles of a cleaning brush in years. Its usual bright colors have been dimmed. Instead of giggling kids, a group of wild cats have claimed it as their home. “That Burger Queen is supposed to be full of families, kids playing, and people on lunch breaks.”

Zhane raises an eyebrow. “What’s a Burger Queen?”

“It’s a fast-food restaurant, but that’s beside the point. The point is tha—” I wave my hand. “All this is wrong. Something very bad happened here.”

“Maybe you’re right, but there’s nothing we can do about it now. We should concentrate on finding Driftwood.”

“You’re right.” I focus myself. We need to help my family. Honestly, how hard can it be to find a five hundred and fifty-ton ship in an abandoned city? “Let’s spread out and look for a tall enough building to climb. Stay close. The last thing we need is to get lost.”

Zhane nods and scampers down the street. A tall, brown building towers in the distance. I make my way to it. If it has a good foundation, maybe I could climb it to get a good view of the city.

I turn the corner onto a street with a sign that reads Mission Boulevard. Seeing it reminds me of my dad. I hope he’s okay. He brought me here once when I was five. We had walked up and down these streets. I still remember that halfway through the trip, I started complaining that I was too tired to go on. My dad propped me up on his shoulders and carried me the rest of the day. By the time night rolled around, he was rubbing his aching back, but the smile on his face never left him.

The scene in front of me, though, is a far cry from what I remember. Wind whistles through the empty boulevard. Rusted, driverless cars fill the street. A few scattered leaves from a nearby park provide the only movement.

A huddled figure catches my eye. I hope it’s a person, but I can’t really tell from this distance. 

“Hello?”

There is no answer to my shout. Maybe they can’t hear me.

I cautiously walk out on the street and into a square of grass, passing a sign, which reads: Bonita Cove Park. Scratched benches and trees surround me. My eyes remain fixed on the unmoving figure.

As I inch closer, I make out a ragged, burnt dress hanging from the skinny figure. It must be a woman. I can’t see her face because she is huddled over something, but at least I confirmed that it’s a person and not a wild animal.

“Hello,” I echo. “I’m Mandy. I was wondering if you could help me?”

Still no answer. 

Hardening myself, I tap her shoulder. No response. I move around. My blood freezes as I gaze at her, or rather what is left f her. Her face, wrists, and legs are somewhere between a skeleton and burned flesh. Her arms are protectively wrapped around something. I crouch forward, but instantly pull back when I see what she is carrying. My hand covers my mouth as I suppress a scream.