The Fall of Man

Part II chapter 20

Chapter 20

It is December. The onset of Winter has transformed the city, which now hides under a thick blanket of white. All of the scrawny trees planted at regular intervals along the avenues and boulevards have long since lost their foliage; a whistling wind rips through their skeletal remains. Noah continues to wander through the inhospitable streets. Where the snow has been cleared, the ground is rock hard underfoot and slick with ice, and the air is bitterly cold. Needles of pain stab constantly at his nose and fingertips. The river has frozen. Nothing moves.

The public state of panic that swept the population out of their homes in a frenzied carnival just over a month ago has been replaced by a contagious, nervous paranoia. The feverish hordes have dissipated and in their place is a deathly quiet. Walking alone through the barren, still streets, Noah rarely encounters another soul. All of the city’s inhabitants are presumably locked inside, standing watchful guard over their precious hoards of food and fuel.

He walks in a northerly direction again, along the familiar central boulevard. In the distance, a lone figure scurries furtively on the other side of the wide avenue, scuttling from doorway to doorway. If there are other people out there, concealed by the long, low shadows, none of them venture out into the central reservation. The manicured lawns have been eroded down to a wire mesh substrate. Noah’s breath steams under the scarf that is wrapped protectively around his face. He is shrouded from head to toe in layers of borrowed clothing. His hair is long and his wet beard is full. He pretends to himself that it helps to take the edge off the cold.

Once again, he walks up to the northern gate. Today, a total of eight guards stand huddled together behind the neon barrier. As a group, they look uneasy. Their gloved hands don’t stray far from the rifles slung over their shoulders, whose black muzzles follow their line of sight unflinchingly. Four of them are trained on him as he approaches. On the other side of the Wall, nothing moves in the snow-covered fields. Beyond, the dark tree line seems further away than ever; way out of reach. He thinks back again to his conversation with Gwen, the day she told him the news about their baby.

“How did it happen?”

“Noah, come on.”

“Then why were you so surprised? Why didn’t you – we, I mean – use any… you know… protection?”

“It’s just so rare. It’s unheard of.”

“What do you mean?”

“For God’s sake. Getting pregnant, Noah. I’M PREGNANT. It just doesn’t happen any more… Seriously. This is crazy…”

A sonic thud jolts him out of his reverie, as one of the four big guns blasts another dose of particles miles overhead into the atmosphere. Now that the city is still, the shots can be heard throughout the day and night. Apparently a new mix has been engineered to counter the crippling cold weather by magnifying the warmth from the sun…

“You mean because of the side effects of the SunScreen?”

“SunScreen – whatever. It just doesn’t happen any more.”

“So why has it happened to us?”

“I don’t know. Maybe my medication? Or something to do with your treatment?”

“My treatment? That was months ago.”

“Oh, Noah. What does it mean?         Oh God. What are we going to do?”

In his head, Noah had understood exactly what it meant. He wouldn’t be leaving. No sooner was one shackle released from his wrist than another one had clicked tightly shut. And this imprisonment was entirely of his own making. He was morally bound to stay with Gwen; he couldn’t possibly leave her now, alone and adrift in an uncertain world.

“Don’t worry, Gwen. Doctor Marsh will know exactly what to do…”

Doctor Marsh had known about the pregnancy before he found out himself – through Gwen’s ‘friend’ Darryl, via the hospital pipeline presumably. The doctor has since proved to be an invaluable contact – helping out with all of their countless questions and allaying Gwen’s floundering concerns, while guiding them through all of the bureaucracy and keeping the entrenched army of specialists and analysts at bay. Without her, the rising tide of complications and hiccups would have overwhelmed them both, and imprisoned them permanently in the hospital laboratory months earlier.

Two of the guards stood behind the barrier are talking; their lips move soundlessly with their fingers pressed to the intercoms at their larynxes. One of them gesticulates in Noah’s direction with the barrel of his weapon and then turns to his colleague, who stoops to lift the fluorescent rail. Quickly, Noah turns away from the gate and heads along the base of the Wall, the scarf over his chin tucked low into his chest. He must put out of his mind for the time being all thoughts of escaping from the city…