REM

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Chilling wind whipped against my winter attire as we pushed on. The other two in my party of three were brother and sister; I was probably lucky to have bumped into them out here.

Winter hasn't been the same since the extreme warming of the Earth. First we were sweating excessively, worrying we would drown as sea levels rose to the highest points we had ever seen in history. Cities were flooded, tidal waves washed out homes, and the face of the Earth began to transform. Now, however, it was the polar opposite.

Swift moving water that once swept away lives was now frozen solid, accompanied by freezing temperatures that never reached higher than zero. This was normal now. Trudging through the city streets with cold wind and snow whipping at you was a usual occurrence, but that was the least of our worries at the moment.

Some people would freeze in the elements, many doing it willingly as a way out. If you were one of the unlucky ones, you would discover the ones who gave up, stumbling and tripping over their stiff bodies when you least expected it. Traveling from area to area was one of the only ways to stay alive. Not because movement kept the blood flowing, but because supplies and proper shelter were scarce.

The road we walked on was clear, void of people and vehicles. We passed by an abandoned school, the Canadian flag frozen at a near ninety degree angle still. Some things had a chance to thaw when it was a mild zero out, but not much.

Glancing down at my boots, I wished I could heat them up. My toes were becoming numb again, indicating we had been walking for at least two hours already. The best way to forget about the numbness engulfing me was to finish the crossword puzzle I had. One word remained, but it was only connected to one other word.

"I still can't figure this damn word out!" I yelled through my scarf, hoping they would hear me.

James turned around and squinted at the paper through ski goggles. "It's zebras!" he yelled, making sure I heard him over the blowing wind.

As he turned away to continue on with Sarah, I looked at the paper, bewildered. How did I not figure that out?

Moving on, I wondered where our next stop would be. My nearly frozen toes were a good indication of how long we had traveled each time, and James assured me that we wouldn't leave our next shelter until my toes had recovered. It was a rollercoaster process for my body that was more or less life now.

Even though I had James and Sarah, and they had me, I actually envied the fact that they still had a family member around. Mine were long gone, dead before the worst, or lost when it finally arrived. Surviving without them wasn't easy at first, but ever since meeting James and Sarah, I've been doing better, much better.

A flashing yellow light caught my eye. It was coming from behind us, so I turned around to look. A yellow snow removal machine was making its way down the road. James and Sarah took notice of the beast as I stepped into a snow bank with them to avoid getting run over.

Vehicle passing by, I asked, "Tell me again why we shouldn't just ride that thing?"

"Because its autonomous, just like all the others!" replied James, the noise from the engine still filling our ears. "We have no clue where they go, or what would happen if we tamper with them."

"We're not tampering," I argued, "we're just hitching a ride!"

"Still! We have a system that works. We shouldn't mess with it."

The system he spoke of was traveling by foot to new locations in search of secure shelter and food. It worked for the most part, but as I watched the machine continue on down the road, the noise it produced growing quieter, I couldn't help but wonder where it was going. The thing surely must need maintenance completed on it. I never heard of any autonomous vehicle with solar panels that worked by charging off of moonlight, stars, and street lamps.

In the distance I watched as the snow removal machine turned left at an intersection. Not that we were planning on following it, but deep down I wished James would chose the same direction. Finding out there was a repair depot would be nice. Infiltrating it could prove to be tricky, but if there were people stationed there, maybe they would be willing to let us stay for a night. It was mostly wishful thinking of course since I have never heard of there being any large, permanent safe haven for anyone.

Once at the intersection, we stopped. James peered down the street at the machine, continuing on without a single care in the world. Houses lined the road, but they were covered in so much ice and snow that it looked like gingerbread houses that had been dipped in marshmallow batter. We tried getting into a house once before, but spending the time to dig out a door to find it locked just wasn't worth the effort. That plan was abandoned after the first attempt with it.

Before James chose a direction to continue in, I noticed a storm cloud brewing in the distance. It wasn't so much a fluffy white cloud hanging in the sky, more so a collection of whirling snow and ice that passed through areas like a tornado, wrecking havoc on anything in its path.

Most definitely not something we wanted catching up to us, I pointed it out. "Storm is coming!"

No sooner did he lay eyes on it, James was immediately turning left in the opposite direction, following the path of the autonomous yellow machine. We could continue straight where the road was less cleared of snow, but there was no way of knowing if the gamble would pay off.

Trusting James' judgment, I followed him and his sister as he waved his arm and yelled, "Let's go! Those things move faster than we think!"

The first time we ever saw one in the distance, we didn't think much of it. A mistake we would only make once as we were caught in the middle of it as it passed over the shelter we found five minutes prior. It was a close call, something we tried to avoid every single time we stepped foot outside.

This was our world now: permanent temperatures of zero or below. We had to survive in hopes that things would change, just like they always did. Giving up simply wasn't an option.