Fits and Starts

The Drowned City

As she neared the sea wall, Claire became nervous. The waters on the other side of the wall were said to be extremely corrosive and dangerous to touch, breathe, or drink. What do I have to lose, anyway? She asked herself. I might as well throw myself off the sea wall as face a death squad. She shuddered as she remembered the torture she'd faced before. Suicide seemed like a better option than facing that again. She felt an odd sense of peace as she made up her mind. A single tear slipped down her cheek as she climbed the steps to the top of the wall.

Once she reached the top, she stopped to take in the sight before her. Stars shone above her in a seemingly endless expanse. The lights and tall buildings of the city had always blocked her view of them before. She gasped in awe at the silent sillhouettes of the empty buildings rising from the waters below against the stunning backdrop of glittering galaxies.

She wept openly. The sight before her was so serene and lovely, and she had come here to die. She hadn't admitted her intentions to herself until she reached the wall, but she'd known her plans in her heart from the moment she saw the poster. She was glad that the last thing she saw would be the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen.

She gazed skyward as she climbed onto the outer barrier. The god she'd been raised to believe in had abandoned her five years earlier, but here she felt the presence of something much more real and powerful. She said a silent prayer for peace to this newfound god as she stepped over the edge.

****

Claire woke to bright sunlight and the sound of splashing water. She sat up quickly and became dizzy. She leaned forward and vomited salty water onto unfamiliar, moldy carpet.

At the sound of her retching, she heard voices raised in the hallway. A short, heavily tattooed man entered the room. He carried a tray of food and water towards her. Claire pushed herself back against the wall.

"Who are you?" She asked.

The strange man looked at her with pity in his eyes. "I'm no one, just like you."

The softness of his voice surprised her. As he came closer to place the tray in front of her, she noticed that the tattoos were an attempt to hide extensive scarring. Her hand reflexively reached to touch her own scars.

"Eat," he said. "Solomon will see you soon." With that, he left.

Claire nibbled on a piece of bread topped with grilled fish. The bread was stale, but the fish was the best she'd ever tasted. As her appetite flared, she ate the food quickly and washed it down with a glass of water that tasted slightly salty.

With her hunger sated, she stood slowly, still fighting dizziness. She wobbled around the room, noting its contents. She was in a large office space, complete with cubicles for each employee that had once worked here. The wood and electronics were all missing; scavenged, she guessed. The far wall was made of large sheets of glass, through which she saw the drowned city up close for the first time.

Abandoned skyscrapers rose from rippling, greenish water. Glass facades glittered in the sun while the masonry grew moss. Much of the glass was intact, which surprised her. As she watched, seagulls flew past the window, chattering at each other.

At the sound of the door, she turned. A young, blonde man had entered the room. Though he bore the same scars as the other man, he made no attempt to hide them. They stood out white against his sun-bronzed skin, somehow making him even more handsome.

"So you're the one that's been defacing propaganda," his eyes scanned her and seemed to find her lacking. "What did you think that would accomplish?"

She felt nervous beneath his steady glare. "I just- I mean I didn't. Think, that is. I didn't think," she blushed. He pursed his lips as he stared at her. She composed herself. "I was angry, but I had no other way to express it."

"At least you're honest," he said. He walked to the window and stared out.

"Who are you?" Claire asked.

"I am no one and everyone." He clasped his hands behind his back. "They call me Solomon."

"I am Claire Fields," she said.

He scoffed. "Are you, really?" He turned to face her again. "Tell me about Claire Fields."

She met his eyes and straightemed her spine. "What do you want to know?"

"What is Ms. Fields' profession?"

The way he said her name reminded her of her students. All at once, she understood the point he was trying to make. She turned to the window and leaned her head ahainst the glass. "Ms. Fields was a kindergarten teacher."

He stood and watched her as she silently said goodbye to the person she had been. It was oddly liberating to let her go. She turned to face him again, feeling lighter. "Claire Fields died five years ago."

"Five years is impressive. Few survive in the city for more than a few weeks or months after the questioning." He looked at her with new interest. "You must be very strong and resourceful."

She laughed. "I just tried to kill myself, and you call me strong?"

"Suicide is not a sign of weakness."

She shook her head and scoffed. She'd been taught all her life that suicide was the ultimate sign of weakness and the one unforgiveable sin.

He smiled at her. "You don't believe me? The priests and teachers have taught you that strength is working endlessly at your assigned profession without question, keeping your head down, and believing that your obedience will be rewarded in the next life." He faced the window with a look of disgust. "By that measure, humans are weaker than cattle."

She looked down at her hands. His words rang true, but it was hard for her to shake the beliefs she'd always held. She sighed.

He placed a calloused hand on her shoulder and said nothing at all.

She decided to leave the deeper philosophical questions for another time. She had practical concerns. "Where am I and how did I get here?"

"You jumped from the wall about half a mile in that direction." He guestured out the window to the right. "We patrol the wall at night and saw you jump. We will take you back to the drowned city with us." He guestured to the left.

"What is the drowned city?"

"Your new home."

****

To be continued.....