The humidity had lessened after the storm, so she walked on, feeling a little more comfortable. In the distance, something gleamed in the light, a long ribbon cutting through the terrain.
At last she reached it and found a massive body of water coursing by. Kneeling at the bank, she refilled her bottle and took a long drink of the filtered water. Then she topped off her bottle again. Standing up, she gazed across to the other side. She had no idea how to get across.
Then she spotted a bridge, mostly submerged, with just a few ornate towers visible above the muddy banks of the flooded river. She could cross it, but it was going to be tough. Along the swollen banks, the tops of houses peeked out, their roofs covered in slime, algae, and muddy branches twisted in leaves. She wondered how long they’d been like this. On the other side of the river, a road ran through the town, cracked and broken.
Cinching her bag tight around her torso, she waded out into the cold water. Her boots found the surface of the bridge, waist deep underwater. The surface was slippery, and she almost fell back into the raging current.
Windmilling her arms, she managed to stay upright. Inching out, she kept her body low and slid her feet along the slimy bridge. She made it to the first tower and grabbed hold of it. She steadied herself, looking back the way she’d come. So far, so good. She then moved past the tower, trying to hold on to the submerged side rail of the bridge. But it was too slick with algae. She soldiered on, the current more powerful toward the center of the river. As water rushed over her boots, she knew she wouldn’t be able to stay afoot at its midpoint.
She crept along a few inches at a time, sliding one boot ahead, then shifting her weight and sliding the other. She reached the next tower, grabbing it eagerly. She shifted to the middle section of the bridge. Here the water gushed in a swirling mass. She didn’t think she could remain standing. But she had to try. She pushed onward, concentrating. She hadn’t gone more than a few feet when a rush of water hit her, sweeping her feet out. She came crashing down into the waves, arms flailing until they found the railing.
Her fingers gripped the slimy surface, and she laced her arms around the metal. Water shot up under her chin, flooding her nose and mouth. She spat it out, gasping frantically. The faster she crossed, the better. Arm over arm, she shinnied herself along the bridge, the cold water sucking the life right out of her muscles. Finally she reached the next tower and pulled herself out of the water, trying to catch her breath. She coughed up mud.
She then moved past the tower, starting out on her feet once again. The current was less powerful here, so she padded along. Her teeth chattered, and her legs trembled. She soon reached the last tower and took hold. She clung to it, wondering if she’d ever be warm again. Coughing, she left the tower and made her way to the muddy bank on the opposite side. When her feet hit dry ground, she turned around, surveying the length of her feat. A sense of pride welled up. She’d made it.
She turned around, staring out at the cracked and sun-bleached road. Glad for the waterproof bag, she pulled out her PRD and checked the compass reading. The weather shelter wasn’t far now. She couldn’t believe it. Only five miles away, and the land looked relatively flat. She’d be there in no time.
She imagined dry clothes and a solid roof over her head. Though she’d only been gone from her pod for a short time, the memory of its warm, dry confines already felt distant, as if they belonged to another life.
She realized they did.
As she stepped onto the road, the rain returned, pounding on the hood of her parka. It had been raining so constantly that the thrumming of droplets on her head was starting to get to her. The drumming sounded from inside her skull, with every fiber of her being rattling to each drop. Water soaked everything she had, except her shirt under the warm jacket and her meager belongings in the protective bag.
She double-checked the direction and headed off, feeling more robust now that the end was in sight.
She stepped over broken chunks of asphalt, trotted past rows of abandoned, decrepit houses, and threaded her way through derelict vehicles that littered the road like rusted carcasses of a bygone age.
She passed through endless streets of collapsed buildings as thunder boomed overhead. From the time she’d left the city, the edifices stretched on and on. She could see why they’d been abandoned; no way could someone build an atmospheric dome this big. And the weather was out of control. It destroyed everything. Wind shattered windows and swayed buildings; water eroded foundations. Heat cracked and heaved the street.
All of a sudden, in a nondescript spot on the boundless cement, her PRD started beeping. She stood before a monstrous building of white stone with pillars on either side of the door. She knew she was close.
The arrow pulsed softly. This was the place. Like every other building she’d come across, this one stood in ruins. An entire wall had fallen to rubble, and all the windows had shattered long ago. Some letters chiseled into the stone above the gaping door read Municipal Library. She recognized the letters, but not the words. She mounted the stone steps, staring upward. She noticed smaller letters had been notched above the big ones. The entire sign read, The Mall at the Municipal Library. She walked through the main entrance,
