The Ark

14.

We zipped through back streets for what felt like hours, avoiding motorways, taking an indirect route along the border of the Canadian Territory. Tears had filled my eyes as we'd left the diner and, at the speeds we were travelling, ended up in my ears. I sobbed quietly into Delta's back, barely managing to keep my grip around her waist. If she felt me coming unhinged, she didn't acknowledge it.

I closed my eyes to try and curb the tears, focusing on the rushing air and the brief, passing sounds of the city around me, but it was no use. The news broadcast dominated my thoughts, bringing with it a sick heaviness.

After some time, the bike slowed to a stop and I opened my eyes to find we had parked beside a massive dumpster in an alley.

Delta helped me dismount before climbing off the bike herself. "If you can manage, we're going up there." She pointed to a ladder above the dumpster. It led to the roof of a ten-storey brick warehouse.

I looked doubtfully at it through the watery haze in my eyes and sniffled violently. "Sure."

The ladder's rungs were worn and thin. It objected to our combined weight with a series of groans as we climbed. I didn't dare look at the bolts, which I was certain didn't exist in some places they ought to. I swallowed back my tears for the climb out of self-preservation.

The view from the roof would have been quite striking had I been able to see it properly—or been in the mental state to actually care. It had a direct line of sight to the Canadian Territory's city. It was a huge mass of twinkling lights, gradually increasing in height toward the city centre with its towering skyscrapers.

Delta led the way to a large dome protruding from the roof. It looked like the outer part of a skylight or temperature control system. She fiddled with a couple of bolts that had been intentionally loosened and opened a hatch-sized door on the side.

The dome concealed a fan set into a large hole in the roof. The blades spun lazily so that when Delta approached, she was able to jump through the gap and down into the hole. I hesitated as I heard her land in the darkness below.

"Come on, it's not a very big drop," her voice carried up through the hole.

I braced myself and waited for the blades to pass before jumping feet first into the darkness. She was right, it wasn't very far down at all, and I landed on some kind of spongy mattress.

It was pitch black, but I could hear Delta rustling around. A fluorescent light flickered on and we were bathed in its off-white glow.

The room was about the size of my bedroom at Dad's. There was a small kitchenette and a few basic cabinets against the closest wall, while a worn couch and upturned crate-come-coffee table occupied the centre of the room. On the opposite wall to the kitchenette was a long desk—and an equally long holo-screen above it. Delta was fiddling with some controls on an interface set into the desktop. My eyes came to rest on the back of her.