Oh, what a funny story. I was not the one who unleashed the monster, but I definitely had something to do with the curtains turning pink. My bad.

Timeline/World: Until Tomorrow – New York City
Current Date: November 27, 2022

Character: Charles Lee
Race: Human
Age: 37
Current residence: New York City Ruins, New York
 

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As we were growing up if there was one thing I knew for a mock fact that I was never going to have kids of my own. For one, I knew that I would never have been able to share a bed with a woman, so that was out of the equation. Oh, yeah, sure, I’m certain some people would point out that hey, there were other options, one of them was the potential surrogate but that would have required myself, or my potential partner at the time to indeed do the dirty with a woman—though I’m aware there is the whole insemination thing—or the other option would have been adoption but, you know, no.

With the lives we lived, the idea of putting children into the mix of it was stupid and I don’t think that any of us ever considered it. Our upbringing hadn’t been great, and I think we’d all sort of vowed to never put someone else through what we had. Coupled with that, when I landed in that wheelchair, things changed a fair bit and we had to adapt to that too.

Now, I’m not saying that wheelchair-bound people can’t have kids or raise them right, that’s beside the point. I’m just saying that with the four of us doing what we did for a living, and all living under the same roof—with plenty of room to not walk on one another’s toes—the idea of kids was just stupid.

Then, well then we met them. Then the snow happened.

Then I got my legs back and on certain days I still marvel at that because, well, wouldn’t you?

There are kids around, though. A lot of them are younger, born either during our time in the bunker, not long after, or only recently. In a way, I think our numbers have been growing and that’s a good thing. That or, if we were to ask the people in charge, I’m sure they’d tell us that, possibly, after a bit of a small boom, our numbers have mostly settled. While most of the slightly older folks have been staying oddly healthy and looking younger than it seems they should, we have lost a few people; I think that’s inevitable. There are things out there that we still don’t understand, or know, or can predict or protect everyone from.

But there are kids and at times, on rounds, we catch a few just playing games and the imagination on some of them just makes me smile. I don’t think I was a very imaginative child and listening to them as we pause just briefly by them, because we can, is always a bit of an adventure back into a childhood we didn’t have.

The last small group I walked on by recently was going on about unleashing monsters, curtains being turned pink and who was blaming whom and, you know, for the short bit of time we were there, it was clear they really were into it and for a moment, I was worried that the frustration being portrayed through their games was going to shine through still after they were done playing.

I almost said something. Almost. Then I reminded myself that they were kids; they were playing games and they could handle themselves just fine. I’m certainly not their father and while I might possibly be told otherwise, I truly don’t think that I have what it takes to be a father to anyone. So, I kept on walking, and it was possibly for the best. I did see a couple of them later on that same day, just running around, possibly playing tag, and they looked like they were doing all right.

I know I shouldn’t even really be worrying about any of it. My duties are more along the lines of making sure that everyone is safe and sound; that doesn’t really include making sure that kids who are playing make-believe aren’t too deep into their games that the way they’re feeling at that point stays with them long after they’re done playing. As someone who never played make-believe, maybe I just don’t know how it’s supposed to go.

So, I’ll leave them to their games, even if some of their subjects sound a little odd at times, and I’ll keep on being an adult who marvels at the fact that his legs move and that he can feel them. I think that’s a fair way of going about things if you ask me.

Final Word Count: 756

When we get home, I’m burying myself in ten blankets and having a good cry. You gonna join me?

 
Timeline/World: Until Tomorrow – New York City
Characters: Charles Lee
Race: Human
Age: 36
Current residence: New York City Ruins, New York
Final Word Count: 765 words
 

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Even though it’s been years, I still marvel at being able to walk. I really did think I would spend the rest of my life in my chair and that would have been that. I’d made my peace with it, and I never once blame Devon, though I know—we all know—that he’d blame himself so utterly and completely. I love my brother far too much to want to blame him for something like that. He’s family and what happened was an accident.

That’s not to say there weren’t days when we all felt as though nothing was quite right and it would have all just been better if it had all been over. Especially the first couple of months. Those were the hardest. We’d had to have the house modified so it was compliant with the wheelchair so that I could do all of the things I needed to do on my own—at least once I was strong enough to.

I still remember, though, there was this one day, it was just a few weeks before the others came into our lives. The day had been rough for all four of us, but I’d been feeling under the weather and Devon had been doubly so attentive to me, even though I reminded him often that he had to focus on the task at hand and not on me. I’d have been fine. Feeling cruddy, but fine.

By the time we were done with our job for the day, I’m the one who told him, as we were heading home, that the moment we were getting home, I was burying myself in no fewer than ten blankets—that being, I had a weighted blanket and I loved it—and I was going to have a good cry. It had been that bad of a day and I’m not a crier. He gave me just such a bewildered look. That look softened when I asked him if he was going to join me.

It was one of those things, back then. While I needed my independence in a desperate way as I was constantly pushing myself to my limits, I knew that I needed my brothers with me and when we were younger, on the really bad days, we used to dog pile together and just huddle away for a while without really saying anything.

That look in his eyes, it told me that I’d made the right decision. Yes, I’d been aching to get home and hide away, and, in truth, I would have much preferred to be on my own just then but just one look at him told me that my request to have him join me in a mock pile of two was what he’d been needing.

It didn’t happen often after that, not when they came into our lives and changed those lives into what they are now but, at that point, Devon had enough on his plate with Myca that I don’t think he really needed me to tell him not to worry about me anymore.

Of all of them, I think it was Devon’s reaction that I waited on the most when I walked back into that slight common area that we’d called our own to show him that hey, look, I was on my feet once more. I still don’t completely understand what the doc did to me but I’m grateful in ways I can’t even put into words. His reaction, though, it was the most beautiful thing ever and I could see the final traces of his guilt begin to fade away. It wasn’t instantaneous but it was close enough. It didn’t take much longer after that before it seemed to finally have been gone from his mind.

Now, years later, I can’t complain. Yes, there are days when I feel slightly numb after long, hard days, but it’s nothing a careful massage can’t fix. Whatever the doc did to fix me, it worked a miracle, and I can’t ask for anything more than what I’ve had at this point, it would be like begging for more money after willing the lottery. No one should be stupid enough to do that.

I’m still a pretty independent guy, I don’t think that’s ever going to change, but in the privacy of our own home? I can admit that I’m willing to tell Onyx whether or not I’m feeling up to par for the day ahead. It’s rare that I’m not feeling great but hey, I’m human and we’re allowed to not feel great all of the time, right? Right.

Moving forward is easier when you say you’re going to. Actually doing it? Ugh, I’d rather just lay here.

 
Timeline/World: Until Tomorrow – New York City
Characters: Charles Lee
Race: Human
Age: 35
Final Word Count: 708 words
 

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Some people are clearly afflicted by lazy-disease.

Now, I’m plenty aware that this is a made-up thing that makes no sense but, as far as I’m concerned, it makes all of the sense in the world.

When we get new people offering to help us with keeping the perimeter and the general area of the hub safe, we put them on probation. We’re not going to outfit these guys and girls with what little we have security-wise—small radios for those doing rounds, batons for our safety, little things—and just tell them to go roam and keep everyone safe, that’s not how it works.

We set these people in groups with folks who have been around longer and let them know that after they’ll have been on the teams for a set amount of time, they’ll get more than just the radio and they’ll get ‘better’ routines. Which, that depends on the person. Some like doing the rounds on the perimeter, it keeps them occupied; others prefer doing rounds in and around the hub itself since the terrain is easier to walk and I don’t blame them. The hours themselves are based on how many people there are and, yes, how long they’ve been with us.

Three of our new recruits came to us from another settlement. They were in the hub for a couple of months before they approached us about helping with the ‘security stuff’ as they called it. We asked them a few questions, why they were wanting to join us, why now, what they thought they could offer the team, simple enough questions. Two out of three claimed that helping with the land or the animals or much of anything else required too much effort. In a way, I think they fully expected us to only be standing around doing little else than that.

So when the time came to let them know that it was indeed time to begin walking the rounds, there were—no pun intended—rounds of groaning and complaining. One even went so far as to state that moving forward what easier said than done. They much preferred just flopping over there, where they were, and not moving.

We were off to a rough start; I’m not going to lie.

One from the trio lasted a day. He complained all through the walking we did along the far edge and he told Blake, in very clear terms, ‘Fuck this shit, I’m out’. None of us were surprised.

Of the two left, one lasted about a week before he mysteriously stopped coming though we saw him coming and going several times. It was fine, we didn’t need slackers or people who didn’t take this job seriously. This new world, it might seem calm and peaceful most of the time but I don’t think it will ever truly be safe. We possibly would have to build walls and who knows what else out there to keep everything bad out and I don’t see that happening. Building walls would require more manpower and materials than we have.

The third and last one is surprisingly still with us. He used to complain at first, about how he hadn’t signed up to do as much walking as we were forcing him to do. We reminded him that no one was forcing him to stay, that there was plenty out there that he could turn to, to help the community and hub but he rolled his eyes, muttered about more physical effort and has since stayed. He shows up on time, he works well despite his few complaints, and I think that this is all there is to it, at that point.

People come and go, I don’t think that’s going to change, some are willing to work hard, others are just lazy to the bones and would much prefer to play dead over needing to help anyone because they don’t seem to realize that the world has changed. Loafers are what they were before the snow, loafers are what they’ll remain until the end of it all, as I see it. There’s no changing that.

We give them a chance and when that doesn’t pan out, that’s it. Find something else.

Why didn’t you do anything?

 
Timeline/World: New York City – Surviving Earth
Characters: Charles Lee
Race: Human
Age: 34
Final Word Count: 699 words
 

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I hate the blame game. I don’t know why people insist on playing that game anymore.

It was exhausting before the world ended, it’s still exhausting now that there are so few of us it shouldn’t even be a problem anymore but that particular problem persists.

I got to hear about the absolute childishness of that particular ‘game’ just a few hours ago when we were doing quick rounds around the safety perimeter of the hub because there had been sightings of unknown animals and none of us were certain whether they were friendly or not, aka, whether they were carnivores or herbivores.

It was a peaceful morning and I honestly like being able to do rounds like that. I know that it’s been years since I got the use of my legs back but I still marvel at this second chance at life, this second chance at being able to be on my feet and be a productive member of society. I can’t even begin to imagine how little I could have helped out and about in this world if I’d still been in the chair. Sure, the area of the hub itself now has things that can be seen as sidewalks and roads but they’re not perfectly flat and passable and the use of a chair still wouldn’t be convenient.

The use of a chair before things were flattened out and worked into this semblance of roads and sidewalks would have been even more difficult and I would have been completely useless, I don’t know that I would have handled that well.

Now, a few hours ago, as we were doing these rounds, we were being as quiet as possible, small radios clipped to our shoulders in case of emergencies. The radios worked on the frequency that still was active around the lab. The batteries were charged through solar power and all was pretty well, if you ask me.

All had been well for most of our rounds until a fight broke out in the second group. The hub is big enough that we usually split up in several groups to cover up more ground while we do the rounds and my siblings and me have usually taken to each going into a separate group to mostly keep them in line. The fight broke out in Adrian’s group and he had it under control within a few minutes but they’d attracted the attention of our new unknown visitors. There was some panic as that part was realized and two of his four-person group ran off, flailing as though the devil was on their tail.

Now, as it turns out, these new wanderers weren’t a problem, they were a sort of mutated herbivore as it was—but the two idiots who ran off still shouldn’t have and, once they were found once more, they were arguing again, blaming one another in a pointless back and forth as though they were trying to find out which of the two of them was at fault for ‘calling’ the visitor closer with their loud brawl.

Just listening to Adrian as he recounted the whole thing made me roll my eyes and I offered to switch one of his two guys with one of my own so they’d be in separate teams since it was clear that neither one of them could likely work out well together at that point. They had been recent returnees and quite a few of them were on probation. It’s not that we didn’t trust them, but taking care of the security of the hub is a big job and we need to be sure that we can trust these people. It might not be a case of life and death as much as it had been in the old world, but it’s still something we have to be careful of.

The kicker? I learned a few minutes ago that supposedly that these two were lovers. For people who are sleeping together, they certainly sounded as though they had a beef with one another. If that’s what the world is turning to, I think we’re going to be in for a sad new sort of life.

Where did you hear that?

Timeline/World: New York City – Surviving Earth
Characters: Charles Lee
Race: Human
Age: 32
Final Word Count: 524 words

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There have been rumours that the woman in charge, at least that’s how I see her, has been working on something to keep us healthier, maybe even alive longer. It all sounds like crap to me but who am I to say anything? Here I am, actually walking, on my own two feet, no cane, no reminders of the pain that put me in a chair, a chair I thought I would be in until I died. I just don’t know about the living long part. Sure, I think it’d be nice to have a moment of ‘forever’ with Onyx but what would be the price?

Would we become more machine? Would there be some almost alien thing floating around in our bloodstreams? I suppose I’m being melodramatic but I can’t help it. I like science fiction as much as the next guy but I’m not sure I would want science fiction to become the norm for my life. Then again with the life we have now, I guess that anything is possible.

Still. It’s something to listen to the people talk about something like that and at times I have to ask myself if I’m not dreaming it all. It just makes no sense. Then again, when she called me in to her lab, one of a good-sized group she saw one after the other and told me I could walk again, I didn’t really believe her. So where does the limit between real life and science fiction really sits?

I’ve tried not to give that one rumour of longer—maybe eternal—life much thought. I don’t want to be part of those whose hopes get raised way up and then come crashing down when nothing happens. There’s no way to know whether or not those rumours even have any real basis or not. What if it’s just an idiot who had a dream about everlasting life who got that ball going? I could go and ask but then what? I know she’s busy. I know she’s watching over that boy she’s pulled out of cryogenics and that is something all on its own, it’s baffling.

So I’m not going to bother her, I’m not going to go ask her thousands of questions. If somehow this rumour is based on something real, then it will be, I don’t think there’s anything else to that. If it happens it will and if it doesn’t, it’s not the end of the world. Even if it is, we’ve been through one end of the world already as is, I’m ready to face anything else that might come our way.

I can walk. How could I not be ready to face the world now? I still was willing to face it from my chair but even just getting to this underground safe place when they were rounding people up turned to be a nightmare for us because of that stupid chair. I can also see how Devon has finally moved on from that particular mishap so I’m glad for this end of the world, in a way. I wonder if that makes me a bad person.