Michael Soll - Scorched

The people who lived here must be responsible for Newbury, the boy thought. They must have brought the people below so long ago.

The two moved past four charred beams and through a door overrun with foliage and entered the home that had once housed some of the most powerful people in the world.

On the walls were many portraits of men long ago extinguished, yet their faces remained, pale and unflinching.

A breeze floated past the cracked doors and into the empty house, sending a chill up Kaolin’s spine. She pulled Spec in close and asked if they could leave.

“It reminds me too much of Newbury,” she said.

“All right,” he said back.

They left the house and its history and were once again met by the beautiful green outside. They walked together, past a gate and to new terrain. They had never seen cement or asphalt or anything unnecessary in the world they had become acclimated to.

The girl looked up at a sign once green, now plastered black, but she could still make out the curves of the letters imprinted so long ago.

“What do you think it says?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Joey only taught me a few letters. I know that one’s a ‘P’ and that there’s an ‘S.’”

They pushed forward, past the street sign so recognizable in the time long ago. Had they known the letters and the numbers and the word imprinted on metal, they would have known that the sign read: “PENNSYLVANIA 1600.”

They walked down the road, not a soul in sight, except for the one in which they shared, encircling the two in a world of their own, one to cherish and nurture, to keep safe from harm at all cost.

And as they pushed ahead, Spec couldn’t help but look up, past the clouds and past the sky, past the sun and further than he could see.

What’s beyond, he wondered. What’s above the Earth? If there’s so much beauty above the world I knew, what wonders are there above this one and the next? How many truths and how many realities exist beyond our own? Did the Specs of the past look up and ask, what if I could go higher? What if I could claw my way past the sky and the sun, further than the stars? Was the past banished to the surface like we were to the depths of the Earth?

And the boy realized that despite his location, he would always wonder. He would always gaze above. He would always be lost in his thoughts.

“It’s okay,” she said, as if she could read his mind, as if his inner dialogue was uttered aloud. “The world is as it is and you are as you are. There are reasons for this and that but things are the way they are because they are. You’re looking up while I’m looking ahead, but our hands are still clasped. That’s all that matters.”

I wonder what direction Joey would look were he here, the boy thought. Would Valasca look below? Would the Mayor keep his eyes tightly shut? What about Cotta and my father? Would they see the sky’s blueness like I do? Would they appreciate the warmth of Kaolin’s hand?

And then, his mind skipped a beat as a thought trickled in. Could I see the world as they do? Could I love the way they love? Was I capable of understanding as they could?

Spec’s thoughts were interrupted by a small creature with a bushy tail that scurried past the two, a tiny nut in its hand. For a brief moment, the animal glanced at the humans, curious by the two strange creatures.

The boy took a deep breath and wondered about the past. Something happened here, he thought. Who’s to say it was a solar flare? Who’s to say it wasn’t something else?

The two pushed past the ancient city. The breeze sent a small piece of paper toward Kaolin, pinning it against her chest, beside her heart. She pried it from her shirt and stared at the man imprinted in the middle, once the most famous general to those who resided in the city now uninhabited. Four large “1”s were imprinted on the bills corners. She tried to read the words: “THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.” But she couldn’t. The girl dropped the piece of paper and the two continued out of the city.

The boy climbed up the incline, up the grassy hill, up the large mound of dirt, beside the girl he once loathed, now his one love. And then he took it all in. Not just the view around, but the one within. How he came to where he was now.

Were I alive so long ago, I couldn’t avert this crisis, he figured. I couldn’t have prevented the war between Nanash and Newbury or their ultimate demise. I couldn’t control any of that. But here I stand, with a girl I saved, with a girl who saved me. I changed my world. Just a spec on this planet. I transformed my everything.

And after some time walking up the hill, the two of them reached the peak, standing atop the tallest mound of dirt, staring down alongside the fiery ball in the sky at the not-so barren Earth.

And in the ruins, in the not too far away, several streams of black smoke billowed up from a distant city.

The boy squeezed the girl’s hand and leaned his head against hers. He whispered something in her ear and she smiled.

She turned to him, caressing the side of his face, amidst the world flushed with green and red and yellow and blue and purple and black and white and all sorts of gray.

And as they breathed in the colors, as they breathed in the world, she nodded and simply said, “Of course.”

Copyright © 2014 by Michael Soll

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

SCORCHED

All rights reserved.

This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. Any reproduction or other unauthorized use of the material or artwork herein is prohibited without the express written permission of the author.

Website: michaelrsoll.wix.com/authormichaelsoll

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First Edition: November, 2014

Cover art by Anthony Jenny