The Subzero

Ten

IF A HUMAN HAD showed up, or a polar bear, my trek would be eventful. The recollection of Upheaval done, the dusk commences, yet the house I am aiming to search is not yet seen nor reached. The consolidated cold and dusk have me shivering in my not-so-nonsense clothes.

My throat resembles dessert. Head's a roaring volcano. Stomach's an underfed mouth. My body completely numb in cold. Suffering all through this, I wish I can give up and just slump at the ground and wait for death to claim me.

Where are you frigging blizzard? Come and take me now.

I lost track of time, but I know it's been six hours something since I left our house. It looks like a hill now, lying crosswise against the ground. And the train to the missing house, oh, don't get me started. I can't remember how many times I tripped and fell facedown against the snow. Way to be dumb, Halley. I hope you know the Mount Cassiopeia, the highest mountain after the Upheaval. The tracks of that mountain are alike with the tracks I walked through. Through the walk, I have a good conversation with myself about how good the weather is, yes, very good indeed, and what flavor of ice cream I'm going to pick soon. I know, stupid me, but who will forget ice cream?

I stop dead. I am sure that when the fog moved, I catch a hazy outline northwest from where I am standing. The fog fluctuates, and in a flash, the figure flaunts itself.

The house I'm looking for.

I dash for it, knowing better not be a turtle. Bye bye, Blizzard. The odds are still in my favor.

The four-storey house, as far as I can remember, is now only one-storey, the first three buried after the consecutive blizzards. It looks like a hill too, just a bit larger to mine. I halt in front of a broken, crystal pane, and seeing the shattered glass, something in me tugs my coat, begging me to turn around and just leave. But I think that's the kid in me, the terrified part of me. I almost succumb as I stare at the darkness past the glass.

But I'm not that terrified kid anymore.

I pass through the broken, unfriendly-looking pane, and the darkness swallows me instantly. But then, after months being in darkness, my sense of sight has adjusted itself. The place seems like an attic, only kind of empty. It seems undisturbed. Untouched.

You can't ensure yourself, Halley.

My grip on the rifle tightens, my senses alert for anything unexpected. I activate the flashlight on my rifle. No one. I make a cursory sweep of the room, looking for something useful. None. I stop in front of the stair that leads down floor.

The darkness glares at me, despite the flashlight. I'm scotophobic, afraid of darkness. Or what lies behind the darkness. I never expect I will arrive here at dusk. Or even find the house. I gulp hard. I wish I still have Tipsy, our dog.

Without my mind permission, I descend. The flashlight only lights up small range. It means the third floor is spacious. I hold my rifle up, ao the light aims the crystal ceiling. I'm right. It's crystal, so does the walls. The white light bounces around the room, shining brightly it's hurting my eyes. Having crystal ice ceiling and a wall is a trend in Subzero Era. Too bad there's only approximately one hundred thousand people to enjoy and see it. Or to suffer, rather.

Seeing the ice-coated treadmill, weights and more, I assume the floor is a gym. I walk to the plasma TV attached to an ice pole in the middle of the room. Whoever lives here must be dumb. Really? A television? Who will they watch? Themselves? I check if the device is powered with cryo-energy cell. It's something like solar cell, only these days, there's no sunlight thanks to the Bombardment. It's a hexagonal-shaped plate as large as my palm. The TV has none, shame. It has wires, though, which means it's generated by wire-flowed electricity, or if I'm lucky, a huge cryo-energy cell.

I think the odds are in my favor today since I found a cryoluminicent lamp. It's a light saber-looking lamp that consumes low temperature when turned on. The colder, the brighter. I turn it on, and the diagonal rod begins to glow. After wrapping the strap of the lamp on the hand that holds my oxygen tank, I proceed.

Now that it's brighter, my anxiousness has dropped a little. The shattered crystal pane still bothers me, though.

The second floor is where the rooms are. Four rooms. I frown. Our neighbor must be lucky. They have four members of the family survive the first two apocalypses. We could have four... if only Tanbark survived the Late Asteroid Bombardment. Ignoring the harrowing emptiness in my chest, I go straight to a door.

The door with 'Ostmark' sculpted in ice crystal is what I first rummage. The room is boyish. Ostmark must love killing polar bears for the disintegrated animal body designs inside. I raid, but only to find a monogrammed handkerchief. The thing can be a replacement for tampons.

Kidding.

The Thorne family (I see their surname at their parent's room) seems to have five members, not only four. A mother, a father, three brothers, one younger than me, two either as young as I am or older. They are none of my business, but knowing that all five of them survived the two apocalypses makes me feel more jealous than ever. It makes me miss my little brother, my whole family, to the point that I want to cry.

Not here, Halley. Do it after this raid.

From the second floor, I find a cryo-energy cell with a connecter. Great. I can charge my thermal flashlight. Which means: I can take a bath soon (the flashlight can melt ice), and I won't freeze to death anymore. What I found, except for the cryoluminicent lamp, is in my rucksack now.

If my anxiety plummets at the second floor, the opposite happens when I step into the ground floor.

Shattered panes crunching under my beaverskin boots. Broken ice tables and chairs. A fallen chandelier. Shards and debris everywhere. It seemed like someone had raided the place already

And the someone might still be here. Maybe already pointing a red laser dot at my forehead, ready to pull the trigger, ready to protect his or her turf.

The ground floor screams danger.

My initial instinct is to bail. To run. I have enough, anyways. The lamp, the cell, and the oh-so tampon replacement. It's better than nothing. I should go home happy now.

But I don't.

My daring self face the consequences.

My gazelle-like awareness to the bad vibe makes my heart pound faster. I can run like a cheetah now, but I'm frozen in my ground, like a lizard. My eyes dark in every direction, like a fly, but all I find is darkness. I am too nervous that when my feet fall to a glass shard, I jump, almost screamed.

I somehow manage to walk to the kitchen. Boxes are thrown on the floor. Containers ripped. Jars empty. Someone is or was definitely here. And that someone is as desperate as I am.

However, I frown when I open the heated cylinder, a.k.a fridge, but only to heat. There, three bottles of water are placed, a chocolate-flavored ice biscuit bags, actually three bags, and cherry and apple seeds. I open the upper vault, and find another cryo-energy cell.

If someone had raided the house, why there are treasures left here?

I am frantically shoving the new-found foods to my rucksack when my ear perceives a sound, a sound between a groan and a growl. My breathing stops right away. I am convincing myself that it's nothing and I proceed, closing my rucksack. The sound reappear. Much louder. From my behind.

I freeze.

I'm caught.

~

A/N: (January 19, 2017) Guys, sorry for not updating for what feels like forever. I'm sorry. I know I make promises that I ignore. Well, I won't promise this time. But, whatever, I have the next chapters ready, but I can't post them with the crappy ones still in here. So, yes, I'm in rewriting mode right now. I changed all the chapters, and hopefully, I'll post them sooner. Have a nice day now, guys :) - John