I don’t care if it’s a bad idea, I’m going to pet the alien dog whether you want me to or not.

Timeline/World: Until Tomorrow – New York City
Current Date: September 5, 2023

Character: Devon Lee
Race: Human
Age: 38
Current residence: New York City Ruins, New York
 

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I wonder if it’s because I didn’t have much of a childhood that I feel as though the kids that are growing up in this jungle world are strange. I mean, I guess it’s a matter of the fact that it’s not all of them, most that I’ve seen playing have been doing so in a way that makes sense to me, but I’ve also never truly been around kids, not in any long-term fashion and I guess I don’t know what to expect still.

I was on central roaming duty when I saw the little girl whose behaviour is still baffling me at this point. It’s been a few hours, but I still find myself thinking about it and I wonder where she heard about it all. I can only imagine it might have been from her parents; I just don’t know.

When you’re on central roam, you’re sort of walking the hub. People think that all we do is walk along the outer edge of the community but that’s not really the case. Sure, there are plenty of us that walk the edge to ensure everything that should be out, stays out, but we have just as many folks roaming what now pass for streets in the community and some of us roam closer to the hub. The population isn’t huge, but we still keep an eye on everyone as best as we can.

Near the hub, not far from the marketplace and a little off from the bunker, there’s this cleared-up space that’s been turned into a park. The park has a shallow but somewhat long pond along with quite a few tall trees and a few much smaller structures that kids can climb around on.

This little girl was sitting mostly by herself, her mother—or so I assume—was sitting not very far off on a rock formation that now serves as a bench for kids and adults alike. The child was in a mood, honestly. She was clearly restless as she started off into the distance, shifting from side to side and going on about how she didn’t care if it was a bad idea—her mother looked exasperated, honestly—but that she was going to pet the alien dog whether her mother tried to stop her or not.

It made me pause, how could it not? I mean, I know we have a few dogs, but I have no idea how they survived the snow. I know we have a few cats and my statement on that remains the same. I’m also aware that there are animals we don’t know about out there. We might have only spent a few months inside that bunker, years ago, but something changed in the world during that short ice age and there are so many different animals out and about now.

In a way, I guess that I didn’t know whether or not I should have been worried. Was this little girl imagining some strange, alien creature—alien, did she learn the word from her mother?—or had she seen some strange creature roaming that no one else had noticed? That, there, I think is why I’m still stuck on the whole situation and I know I should have probably gone to talk to the mother about it, tried to get more information but as it was happening, I was so confused by it all, in a way, that I didn’t really think about any of the other details that could have made sense at that very moment.

When I went back just a couple of hours later, they were gone, of course. I mean, it’s possible that they still would have been at the park, I’ve seen kids spend hours there, but I didn’t think it was likely. Not with how restless the little girl had been and how exasperated her maybe-mother had seemed to be. So sure, I took note of this in my little pad that I barely use because paper is now a little rare though I know they’ve found means of making a new type now.

I do have in mind to bring it up to my brothers later today, but I want to believe that it’s nothing to really worry about. Just a young girl with a big imagination who might have heard the word from somewhere else. It’s not even her use of the word that remains with me, it’s the potential source of whatever that alien dog might have been. Fully her bored imagination, the glimpse of something roaming somewhere it shouldn’t be? I’ll never know at this point.

I mean, even if something is roaming around, there’s no telling if it’s going to be dangerous or not until we possibly catch it, if it does exist, so all I can do is keep my eyes open as I always do.

Final Word Count: 813

Wow, I can’t believe you actually think that you can stop me.

 
Timeline/World: Until Tomorrow – New York City
Characters: Devon Lee
Race: Human
Age: 36
Current residence: New York City Ruins, New York
Final Word Count: 783 words
 

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There still are all types of people here. Denying that simple statement would be stupid. It would be like saying that, I don’t know, the sun isn’t warm. That might be over the top, but it is how I feel about it.

As part of the group of people that roam the edges and hub of this place to keep everyone safe from, well, everyone and everything, I’ve come across my share of people and not all of them were what I’d call good people. Some of these people were the same types of people that I likely would have ended up calling criminals, back then. Most weren’t bad people, just people who didn’t seem to really be able to tell right from wrong.

No real crime has been committed, not as far as I know. Not so far, anyway. No one has been murdered, no one has been stabbed for someone else’s blanket or food basket. Some people have stolen goods from others and there have been some fights but, at least as far as I’m aware, nothing really worth a life spent behind bars.

Because we do have cells. I was so startled at first. I mean, I guess I shouldn’t be. The cells are in the bunker since it’s still a semi-central place. It’s off to the side of the hub, so calling it central is a bit of misleading information but, to me, it feels like it’s a semi-central place, mostly for the fact that I know there’s still plenty going on down there, even if we don’t hear much about it. That’s okay, though. I think it’s honestly fine.

Anyway, a few days ago, I came across this one guy who was clearly hellbent on somehow making his way into the one building he was right next to. The thing is, though, that this particular building hadn’t even been fixed, or opened up to anyone because it had been deemed unsafe. For some reason, nature had really taken over that one. While our new floor level is comprised mainly of tightly grown or woven together lianas and whatever greenery and roots took over, this building was a slightly squat but still multi-floor place that had been taken over by those roots.

From the front, you could see one partial window that still somehow was uncovered by vines and the rest but everything else was pretty much root, lianas and just covered and inaccessible. From what I recall, one person had somehow managed to sneak in from I don’t know where. It had been before everything had taken over it and they’d said that the whole building was unstable; trying to get in or make it habitable—and clearing the clearly growing nature that was trying to take over it—would just make it tumble.

So no one had bothered, and we’d left it be. I mean, it had been off on the partial edge of the hub. There are other buildings nearby but they’re still solid, compared to this one. Some people believe that, at one point, the vegetation that’s taken over it will just swarm it and crush it. I think the belief of that one isn’t shared by everyone, but we still all just leave it be.

But on that particular morning, there was this guy who was trying to tear some of the roots away with his hands. I just watched him for a while, because seriously, what more did you want me to do? We—you know, the folks trying to ensure everyone’s safety—do wear a sort of armband. I guess it’s mostly there in case someone needs help. It makes us easier to spot, in a way.

I didn’t approach him, I didn’t rush him to move him away. I just watched. Eventually, he paused and spotted me. He sneered at me, looking ready to bolt. Yelled at me—I wasn’t that far off, yelling was unnecessary—that I thought I was so clever and that I was sure stupid to think that I could stop him. That he had this big plan, and no one would stop him.

Mind you, I still hadn’t budged, I still was standing right where I’d been, and I hadn’t even really focused on him. I was looking the building over. It still looked the same, from day to day, though with passing time, it really did feel as though nature was trying to swallow it whole. I remember how just a few months ago, that front window the guy was trying to get to, had been much more visible.

In a way, it’s a good reminder that nature can do what it wants with us, really.

There’s no point doing the crime if our driver is gonna skip out on us.

 
Timeline/World: Until Tomorrow – New York City
Characters: Devon Lee
Race: Human
Age: 35
Final Word Count: 664 words
 

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It’s weird, the type of memories that surface as you discover old, forgotten things in ruins that had not been dug up before. This one particular memory, for example. We’ve found an old car. It’s rusted through and falling to pieces but it’s still a car. The windows are broken, there is an odd assortment of things in the backseat and it might be more those things than the car itself that pulled this one memory to the surface.

It feels like forever ago and it might as well be. We weren’t all that old; early teens sounds about right. I know it was a case of us just minding our own businesses but being at the nearly wrong place, at the nearly wrong time. We didn’t get in trouble, we didn’t get hurt, but a few moments more, or, worse, if they’d seen us, I think we would have been in for a beating, no matter our age or where we were from or what little, or not, we’d heard.

There were these two men, they were standing next to this battered old car—a car that looked a lot like the one we’d found in those newly dug up ruins—and they were discussing… something. I know I missed most of it since I’d come last to the little spot we’d ended up at and I never asked my brothers for more information on what was going on.

All I know and remember is that they were talking about doing ‘a crime’ but that there was no point to doing it if their driver was going to skip out on them. The one who was doing most of the talking sounded seriously pissed off, as though this was the biggest affront that ever could be; the other, quieter one, was mostly answering with one-syllable words or even grunts most of the time but he didn’t sound, nor look, as pissed off as the first one.

It was hard for us to move away from the spot, we could have turned back but the alley we’d come from was a mess and it was nearly impossible to stay quiet while walking through it, and we hardly could move forward, that’s where the pair were. So we mostly hunkered down, we listened, we waited. There was a whole lot of passive-aggressive complaining going on and it seemed to mostly be pointless, at least as far as any of us were concerned.

Thankfully, after what felt like an eternity, the two guys wandered off. We waited another fifteen or so minutes before going anywhere, just to be sure we were safe. As we passed by the car, I couldn’t help but look in. It was an old thing, it was rusted and beat up, it didn’t even have tires on anymore. There were things in the backseat that were very reminiscent of what we found in the backseat of the car in the ruins, which is probably at the source of this memory.

When I told my brothers about what the car reminded me off, they all gave me blank looks, as though they’d completely forgotten that particular scene and I suppose I can’t really blame them, it was a long time ago. Adrian still doesn’t remember it at all, Blake has vague recollections of what I’m talking about and Charles seems to mostly remember it, though he remembers the car a little differently. I suppose I might have been the only one to look in that car and it’s fine. It’s not as though that memory is a necessity to us in this day and age, and I’m just glad to know that my memory hasn’t failed me completely.

I mean, it was some twenty years ago, it’s possible that what I remember, versus what really happened, could have become fuzzy or corrupted, so I’m happy to know I still remember things well, even if it’s a weird memory like that one.

Your pride is as solid as a rock.

 
Timeline/World: New York City – Surviving Earth
Characters: Devon Lee
Race: Human
Age: 34
Final Word Count: 659 words
 

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At times, I think people overestimate me. That or they mistake me for one of my brothers though that seems unlikely. Since we’ve all changed the way we wear our hair—and that was some years back at this point—it’s been more difficult to mistake one for the other but I know that some people don’t pay attention to that and they’ll think I’m one of my siblings.

Just the same, at times, I think that people mistake ‘pride’ for something else entirely, I’m just not sure. It’s just in the things I hear when I roam, it’s in what people claim, what people say, in what they might think, I don’t know.

Though, I think it was worse before the world ended and I think that I don’t know what to think. What I think right now is that I’m tired and I’m not making much sense, even to myself. I think that I’ve been dwelling on the past and thinking about the accident and how it was my fault that Charles ended up in that chair. Yes, he’s been out of the chair for years now, by some technological miracles but I haven’t fully forgiven myself for that.

I remember how hard he would work, how he’d slip now and again but the guy who would work with him during his physical rehabilitation therapy would pat him on the back with a chuckle and tell him that these things happened, that his pride was solid and that it could take a few slips and falls like that. I only witnessed these interactions two or three times and it was too much for me. I hated seeing him struggle and it made me feel worse about things.

I should have been the one in the chair. That’s not going to change, my thought had always been set on that and no amount of anything from my brothers could change that.

I’ve been told by a few people that they were proud of the hard work I was doing, that I should feel prideful of keeping them safe. I’m just doing my job. My self-esteem about a lot of things isn’t what people seem to think it is and I wish they wouldn’t try to remind me that they believe I’m doing something so great when, in reality, I’m just doing what I think I should be doing.

Have I mentioned that I’m just really tired?

When Charles got the use of his legs back, I think my brothers hoped that it would erase what had happened from my mind and memory. It didn’t. It did help it fade somewhat but it didn’t erase it, I don’t think that anything could erase that. What it did, however, was indeed bring a certain sense of pride back to the surface but it was a pride for my brother, it was being able to see him work his way back to the top of the world. He was in shape as much as he could manage while still in the chair but his legs suffered from their lack of use, so getting back to his feet, it required so much effort on his part, that even now, years later, I still am filled with pride at how much he’s achieved.

That pride, that feeling of satisfaction at his achievement, that’s solid, it’s never going to fade and I’m going to be thinking about it often.

The thing is, I try to not focus on the past too much because I know that if I do, I’m just going to end up letting it drag me back into an ugly pit of despair and I don’t know that I’d be able to get out of it. I’m just… my brain is tired and weird and I think about the weirdest and most pointless of stuff when I’m in that mindset so I think I’m just going to shut up right now.

I just wanted to be able to shine instead of sit in your shadow.

Timeline/World: New York City – Surviving Earth
Characters: Devon Lee
Race: Human
Age: 32
Final Word Count: 568 words

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He was looking at the tiny slip of a woman and trying to wrap his mind around the whole confession thing. It had honestly been years since anyone had confessed to him that way and yet it wasn’t really what he had expected. Devon just wasn’t sure how things had gone from so simple to so complicated in just a few hours. He now had something akin to a murder to deal with and he didn’t want to. He just wanted to go back to his salvaged apartment where he, his siblings and their significant others had the building for themselves and call it a night but now he couldn’t.

All because that tiny little woman wanted to prove herself, wanted to be able to ‘shine’ instead of being in his shadow? How did it make sense to senselessly club a man to death? Yes, they had been tailing him on and off for a few days because plenty had come their way, complaining about the man being something of a peeping tom, a pervert that hadn’t really acted out on what impulse there could have been.

Still, he was looking at her defiant gaze and then back down to the dead man at their feet and he rubbed a hand over his eyes a moment, just wondering why he’d been saddled with her, to begin with. He worked better with his own but his training and that of his brothers had set them as a good example to follow and newbies were often sent their way for a couple of weeks so some things could be taught.

“I seriously don’t know what the hell you were thinking but this is not part of well, anything at all we would do, I should be walking you back to the cells for doing this but I’m just going to set you up with an appointment with the head doc because he hadn’t done anything at all before you started clubbing him, he hadn’t even managed a single word to answer the question I had asked him. You don’t just do that!”

He had no words on how to explain this. He couldn’t understand her behaviour, even if she claimed it as being done to be the one to shine. Murder did not equal spotlight. In the past, perhaps it would have and certainly not the right kind of spotlight but in the life they had now, murder would mean lock-up and serious shrink visits for who knew how long.

“Just go. I expect you to report to the office at ten tomorrow morning at the latest and if you’re not there, you know you’re going to be on our wanted list and you’ll be hunted down.”

Criminals couldn’t be left to roam after all and this wasn’t self-defence, it wasn’t security work, it wasn’t keeping anyone safe because somehow the man had done something wrong. It was flat out murder and no one would think it otherwise when he filled in his superiors on the issue. He was baffled beyond understanding and wished there still were security cameras everywhere that would have helped a lot at this point, saved him frustrations like these.

He watched her go and dropped his gaze back to the still warm body, his shoulders dropping as he realized he wouldn’t be back to his own bed until far, far into the night.

What a Fool I’ve Been

Timeline/World: New York City – Surviving the Earth
Characters: Devon Lee
Race: Human
Age: 32
Final Word Count: 545 words

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He’s mine. Nothing is going got change that. If the world hadn’t gone to hell, I think I would have taken things a little slower. Though maybe not. I don’t really want to change the way things have been or how they’ve happened but there are a few small things I would have done differently if the snow hadn’t caught all of us by surprise.

By now, if it hadn’t been for the snow, I think I would have asked him to marry me. I know there’s someone in the camps that does these things still but I don’t know about it. I honestly never thought I’d ever really have anyone with me or I’d have the luck of anyone’s presence at my side at all. That he,s been with me this long speaks volume about… well a lot of things and I almost feel like a fool for thinking that maybe, one of these days, there could be someone else in his life, someone that’s not me.

That fear was more present before the snow happened. I was more than just a little afraid of the fact that just maybe someone else would come and sweep him away from me. Away from what little I could offer him. Now that the world has ended and the number of survivors is so low, the fear is still present but it’s almost all gone.

I do have a small little ring, it’s a simple band more than anything else. It’s been in my things for years because it’s mine, to begin with. I’ve been asking myself if I shouldn’t just put it on his finger and tell my fear to fuck off but I can’t. Yes, I want to spend the rest of my life with him and I think that’s what we’re going to do, but my brain keeps on trying to tell me that putting a ring on his finger is a necessity, it doesn’t feel like a necessity. Rings and papers were things from the old world, weren’t they?

Maybe not. I’ve heard about a few simple ceremonies that have happened, there’s no real instances of paperwork anymore, of course, but it still would be a ring but I’m just, I don’t know, I can’t explain it.

There’s still the bare hint of a fear that he might look at me like I’ve lost my mind. I know that wouldn’t be the case, it’s not how he is, it never would be how he is, he’s not like that but that nagging voice in the back of my head keeps on trying to tell me that I’m an idiot, a fool and that I shouldn’t even think about that ring anymore, that I should just get rid of it.

I can’t do that. I don’t want to do that and it’s the very last thing I will ever do, if I do. The ring won’t fit him and there’s no amount of fiddling with it that will make it fit him, they are rings we were all given, my brothers and myself, when we were kids. Rings from a family that didn’t stick around with us in the long run.

It’s still something though so just maybe. Maybe I’ll ignore that nagging voice.