WHAT'S IN FRONT OF ME {Stories}

 

 

In front of me, the inert field stretched as far as the eye could see and beyond, never finding an end, for now everything was like that, desolate. I didn't expect to find anything else for miles around, no grass, no leaves, no hint of life. If I saw a cockroach I would be happy, I would have something to eat. He was starving. In my canteen I carried the mixture that my grandfather had taught me to make, with a thick, bitter taste. When I started taking it, I thought it was vomitive, but it hydrated like no other liquid, which in itself was scarce. When you can't find water for hundreds or thousands of miles, and the whole world is like that, you need to make the most of what you have. Unfortunately, my grandfather never got to see what his invention would result in or the conditions under which it would be used: he died when all this was just being cultivated. He never saw the end.

The earth creaked with my every step, with a dry, unpleasant, sometimes faint sound. I had to be careful: there were points where the floor could sink, leaving me trapped. The land had become a dangerous place. He was in a hurry to find some shelter. A chemical cloud could be seen in the distance. Still, constant in my footsteps. It wouldn't be long before he was on top of me. It was important to calculate how long I could keep running, as it was essential to reserve my energy, since food was extremely scarce, not just liquid. Lightning flashes could be seen in the distance, threatening. It was likely that the remnants of some fuel had been scattered, so the storm would start fires that would not end. If there was anything alive in these lands, there wouldn't be any more when I finished, including myself if I couldn't find a place to hide. I wondered if I would ever find a place where I could take off my gas mask: I was starting to get tired of wearing it squeezing my face all the time.

After a while of walking, with the threat almost upon me, I was able to find a shelter: it was a ruined building, which preserved almost intact one of its rooms in the west wing. I noticed the kind of building that was in front of me, because in the end, when it all happened, there were those who tried to protect themselves from the catastrophe: bunkers, walls covered with lead, steel and solid concrete, warehouses with food, medicine and vaccines, airtight rooms, among many other means of defense. This, in particular, was a room covered with protective materials: just enough to be safe. I hurried to take cover, the cloud wasn't too far away. I walked in, closed the door behind me, and turned on my flashlight. I wasn't afraid that there was something or someone dangerous inside, nothing was alive anymore. I wondered if he was the last human on Earth. Perhaps in faraway places, on other continents, or even on this very one, there could be someone in a situation like mine, even a group, even if the possibility was minimal. After all, it was almost impossible for me to stay alive.

He had planned to live in the mountains, but finding food didn't seem feasible; Wherever I moved, I could hardly find canned remains or jars that had not somehow been invaded by fungi or bacteria. In addition, he could find materials to produce Grandpa's mixture, or even insects, a rather substantial meal. Luckily, it seemed that, somewhere, some presence seemed to have heard me, and in front of me moved a small, furry creature with four legs and a small tail: it was the first mammal I'd seen in years, one associated with plagues, one that had probably had a role in human extinction. Outside of insects, this was the first form of life I saw. Perhaps it was the last specimen of its species, or even of its entire genus. I watched the curious rodent, sad, starving, looking for some bug or anything to feed on, it almost reminded me of myself in that situation. I thought for a moment that she and I were the last mammals on Earth. I wasn't sure, but it was very likely. I thought his end was a pity. No, rather a real misfortune: if I didn't survive, then mammals would have ceased to exist. It was almost certain.

That gruesome ending did not leave my mind. As much as it hurt, I couldn't let the rat escape. It didn't take me long to pierce it with my knife, and then cook it. I think it was the leanest, richest thing I'd eaten in a long time. I really tried really hard to give it a good taste and it was worth it: I really enjoyed it.

It was a sad end for the last specimen of a species. Nevertheless, it served to keep me alive, though it was likely that my end would be even worse, even more tragic. With me, an entire genus of vertebrates would have been wiped out. The term of another species, the one that had dominated the planet; A success in terms of ambition, a biological failure, since the life span of human beings on the planet had been extremely short compared to that of other species. Not satisfied, we destroy several species much more successful than ours, being victims and participants of our aberrant acts. I think until the end I acted like a human.

I went out as soon as the storm was over, satisfied and sad, with my gas mask on, still thinking about the rat. I wondered if there was anything left of us alive somewhere, knowing deep down that it wasn't.

 

The end

 

Paya Frank @ Blogger