CHAPTER 1

At the edge of the rooftop, thirty stories above the city, he looked down on the bleak landscape below. The gusting, cold wind at his back pushed him against the chest-high parapet like a troublesome childhood bully daring him to jump.

Daniel Montero considered the half wall. It would be nothing to vault over it, and fear was not a problem. He was not afraid, not of death. Life was a different story. Life terrified him to the point of paralysis.

It was a breath-taking view even on this dreary, winter day. Below him, the river flowed murky and frigid, a long, thin ribbon of gray. Beyond, for miles around, stretched the desolate city. Its streets were empty, deep canyons where the winter gales whistled and raced.

Daniel could picture the free-fall drop, the ground rushing up to meet him, the roller coaster ride of his life. He’d always loved roller coasters. A brief, instant flash of pain and then, eternal blackness, release, rest. No more pain, loss, regret, exhaustion, and loneliness. No more silence. It was the silence more than anything that tortured his daily existence. He took off his parka and laid it at his feet.

“Pop, what are you doing?” Johnny asked, his voice tinged with alarm. His sixteen-year-old boy, the last one left to him, rushed to pick up the jacket from the floor. “You will catch a cold. Then, you’ll be even more miserable.”

“Why didn’t you stay down with Dr. Salvo? Can’t you ever do as you’re told?”

“I wanted to see the view.”

“Well, enjoy. Miles and miles of desolation. Not another soul in sight. A veritable garden of emptiness.” The bitterness in his words was a knife that cut through his son’s heart.

“And you’d take the easy way out and leave me alone to suffer this?” His son’s voice choked on a suppressed sob. Daniel looked down at the floor, shame coloring red his olive complexion.

“I’m not brave. That was your mother. She was the strong one in the family, the glue that held us together.” Daniel put his parka back on and throwing his arm around his son, led them both back towards the stairwell. The moment of weakness passed. He was safe for a little longer.

******

“We need lots of weapons,” argued Johnny. “They’re everywhere for the taking. We should arm ourselves to the teeth before we take to the road.” The boy still expected tidal waves of armed, futuristic, Mad Max warriors to spill over the horizon. One could call him optimistic. In a city of 800,000 people, they found one other person in two years.

“We’re limited to what we can carry,” argued Dr. Salvo. “Rifles and ammunition are heavy. They need cleaning and storage space. To shoot a deer, all you need is one well-placed bullet and one rifle. Besides, the only protection we’ve needed so far has been from the cold. Mind you, I’m not saying we don’t need a few weapons, but we don’t need an arsenal.”

Doctor Salvo watched the father and son over the rim of his mug, with deep-blue, serious eyes. They found him months earlier, holed up at the hospital where he had worked, without a thought for himself, until there was no one left to save.

“We would be wise to allot as much of our carry space as possible to medical supplies: antibiotics, antiseptics, painkillers, and bandages. Suture materials and even small surgical instruments as well,” he added.

“Clothes,” piped up Johnny again, excitement in his voice. The expectation of the upcoming adventure was firing up his imagination. “We need to take every piece of clothing we can, whether it fits or not. Once the things we’re wearing begin to fall off, we’ll be walking around butt-naked. We need to stock up on clothes and shoes to last us forever.”

“There will be plenty of towns and cities along the way we can scavenge,” countered his father, peering over his own steaming mug. “We have to think bare necessities. We will restock along the way. Taking too much will set us back as much as taking the wrong things. Remember, we’ll be carrying it all on ours backs and for a long way.”

“Survival is a long-term business. What we do now may help us live to see another winter but not the one four years from now. We need to think objectively if we’re to stand a chance of surviving for the long run.” The doctor was a brilliant young man, and both his companions had learned to value his logic.

“What exactly are you thinking?” Daniel Montero was the older man, although he was not old by any means. Both his teenage son and the doctor accepted him as the informal leader of their little group.

“Well, food, for instance. We’re assuming we’ll subsist only on hunting. In truth, we need very little meat to survive, a few ounces a day to keep the body healthy. One of the worst habits of our society was we ate too much meat.”

“Wait a minute, few ounces of meat may do for you, but I’m still a growing boy. I need my protein.”

“We can do just as well from fish and birds such as wild turkey. Once we’re settled, we can raise animals. Back to the point, we need to plan for the long range. What can we get here now, to help us in the future?”

The young doctor paused to gaze at his friends, willing them to see his point. “Information, my friends, is what will save us.” He sipped his coffee before continuing. “Information which might be available here but not where we’re going.”

“What kind of information?” asked Johnny.

“The kind we’ll need for the long haul. For example, when we run out of clothes, how do we make new ones? How do we grow cotton and silk? How do we weave the fabric? When we run out of antibiotics, how do we manufacture more? Why rely on guns when we can’t make bullets? We’d be wiser to use bows and arrows made from materials at hand, with minimum technology. We need to find and learn the methods to do such things.”

“So, what are you suggesting?” asked Daniel.

“A better shopping list. We begin with a question: what is readily available along the way?”

“Plants and water,” answered Johnny. “Lots of trees, rivers, and lakes.” The young man every so often leaned into the fire to feed it twigs and small pieces of dead wood.

“Yes,” Dr. Salvo agreed. “That means fruit, nuts, and wild herbs for picking. Ready wood for firing. Water for drinking and washing. Fish and small game for protein.”

“From warehouses and homes, we scavenge for clothes, tools, preserved and bottled goods,” Daniel added. “From hospitals and clinics, we can salvage meds.”

“If any are still to be found,” Dr. Salvo insisted. “We must assume that most things needed for immediate survival will be available along the way. We need to take with us what is necessary but not readily available.”

“A few hand tools to fix our bikes if we break down on a long, desolate stretch,” said Daniel. “Blankets, soap, strikers, a couple of pots. Small trading things,” he added as an afterthought. “We’ll meet survivors as we go. It’s impossible we’re the only ones who survived. There are others out there, and they will need things and may trade for them.”

“Manhattan was bought with beads and trinkets,” Johnny added to the conversation.  “As we scavenge, we can keep an eye out for things that others may want.”

“You’re right,” said the doctor. “A bottle of whiskey, a pair of scissors, a bottle opener, are all objects of value in the right situation. Gold jewelry may be useful. It’s worthless to us, but may not be to others, and it’s easily carried.”

“Yes,” murmured Daniel. “We need to make a list of what we can best use, and it’s not necessarily food and weapons.”

That night the temperature dropped, and the winds picked up. The low, gray skies pregnant with snow, burst in wind-driven fury. The three males kept the fire in the hearth going and made their beds all around it. The howling of the wind outside and the unrelenting darkness kept them all huddled and prisoners inside.

Daniel tried to find his peace and fall asleep, but his need was strong tonight. Two years alone now. Two years spent without a woman’s touch, without the low murmurings at his neck, without the musky-warm scent of her warm skin. He missed the shared quiet laughter in the dark. His wife was the love of his life. There had been no affairs, no betrayals between them. Their marriage defined them both.

Now he was lying in the dark, his mind trying to form images of her in his thoughts. His hand wrapped around his penis, but the images were too painful; they defeated their purpose. He settled for faceless bodies, a mental collage of naked breasts and glistening hot flesh. He hoped the spilling and the resulting exhaustion would bring him blessed sleep.