The Reach

Look back on your life and find that one moment. That moment where you felt obsolete, unimportant, irrelevant in the grand scheme of it all. Minimize that and bring it down to a total of seven minutes. Seven minutes filled with terror, with confusion, with every emotion you could gather in your mind from every feeling you had ever had. That’s how long it took to tear what was left of our world apart. Seven minutes.

Chapter One – Sky

I opened my eyes to the unsettled dust in the light of the sun that shone through the small window that sat just below the ceiling line. Every day begins the same, the 7:00AM community alarm pulling me from the imaginary life I had created in my sleep, shaking me from the care-free girl I had pieced together in my subconscious the second I drifted into the welcoming darkness of night. Cracks riddled the bare concrete that ran along the floor, ceiling and walls, the dirtied grey a constant reminder of how we were all feeling. Rations had been cut significantly since winter ended and it had been at least three weeks of over time for everybody. I lay a moment longer before pulling myself upright to face another day using all of my energy to plaster on a mask of happiness for Dad and Jake. I picked up the dirt covered overalls that were lumped in the corner of my small room and pulled them on quickly, tying my hair into a tight knot at the top of my head. My black t-shirt, going on two weeks unwashed smelled of soil and sweat, I held my breath as I pulled it over my head.

I stopped and looked at myself for a brief moment in the reflection created on the small window that let in the early morning light. My skin looked worn from the days under the sun, my hair an unkempt mess of a nest that sat on top of my head, and my eyes clearly void of any feeling, any emotion at all. Taking a deep breath I focused on the field beyond my reflection out the small window. The corn field that sat on the edge of our block – in-between our buildings and the Forge. It was a staple that represented the subdivision we lived in; Tuckreach, but everyone just called it The Reach. The tall husks of corn swayed in the morning sun, a wave of movement that ran the length of the field and back, over and over again as the light spread across the field and into the grid in a splash of brightness. The field was free, to grow and move and change, to evolve day in and day out as we stood around it frozen in time, unable to sway freely in the wind. It was a bright green with hints of yellow where the husks were ready for harvest, a contrast of colour against the Forge which was a dark, ominous and lifeless reminder of our imminent end.

The Forge was a part of the grid which had decayed over the years, left abandoned and rotting. It sat only meters beyond the perimeters and you could see it if you were anywhere above the 5th floor of our building facing east. The grid was built surrounding the corn field, identical 12 story buildings as far as the eye could see some hundred years ago or so. Carbon copies of concrete bunkers cut and paste from throughout the perimeters, all that was left of the world, the perimeter marking what was the end of civilization. In the early hours of the morning, before people begin making their way to their shifts, if you lived close enough you could stand outside and hear the faint buzz in the distance of the electric fence that ran the length of the perimeter keeping everyone in.

Recollecting myself, I turned from the window to head to the kitchen to find Jake and Dad at the table, each finished their morning rations staring intently at the morning broadcast. Each day at 7:15AM following the community alarm came what we call the read, some officials from the city would read off the events of the day prior, any news about rations and incidents that took place. The monitor sat on a steel table in the corner of the kitchen and a small two-seater wooden table that had collapsed too many times to count took up majority of the space in the room. A thin counter ran along the opposite wall to the monitor, in the middle the cooler box that held that mornings rations.

“Three young men found dead in the Forge from nuclear exposure – city officials investigating into the perimeter breach that took place. Citizens are reminded of the new perimeter limits in place as of the most resent Resize that was announced last month,” the monotone, emotionless voice of the woman on the screen was droning, I turned away to pour what was left of my morning ration into a bowl. Resize’s happened every 6 months to a year, when environment workers from the city would survey parts of the grid which sat close to the perimeters for nuclear levels – if they were too high, the perimeters would be resized and a new map would be sent around the grids. Often you would hear of civilians found in their homes who had been exposed to fumes that came from outside the perimeters, they were quietly dealt with and the buildings would be marked off limits until the perimeter fences could be adjusted. We hadn’t been affected by the resizes, dad has some kind of theory about the nuclear levels and how they moved around the grid, says that the corn field keeps us safe and that it couldn’t be touched. Dad had a lot of theories, about the city, the Forge, the officials, about everything really, but he never left The Reach, he never challenged things, no one did really.

“Some read today – three dead! And that’s not including the five they found just outside of Minte last week,” Jake didn’t take his eyes from the screen, “this shit’s been getting worse and worse, soon the resizes are gonna wipe us out.” He sat slouched in his chair, his sandy blonde hair a little too long for the hot late sping weather we were having, his legs stretched out under the small kitchen table which had outgrown our family years ago.

“You need a haircut,” I say aloud, ignoring the read, Jake’s anger and my dad’s blank stare.

“I need to get out of the fucking Reach is what I need,” Jake gritted his teeth as he kicked the chair back from the table, storming out the door without even a glance at either of us.

Tension, always so much tension. Mum had been found in the Forge a year back and Jake could never come to terms with that. She’d had a theory about the nuclear levels and that it was all a hoax, got caught up in some conspiracy cult at the warehouse she was stationed for work and they were all found a few weeks later in the Forge. I didn’t take it too harshly, she hadn’t been all there for years, the warehouse she was stationed in was chemical based and the toxicity levels had taken a toll on her. When they were found, the burns made them unrecognizable, the images from that mornings read haunted us all. We never spoke about it much, dad shut down, Jake got angry and I continued to look after them both as they fell apart. I wasn’t given the chance to feel anything.

“He’s right y’know?” dad started as I took the last bite of oatmeal from the bowl, “they’ll resize and resize until that radiation gets us all.”

“Android guards apprehended a group of miners in the south mines just beyond the perimeter, fence signals were triggered early enough that the group of miners remained unexposed,” the screen flashed a video of the miners being escorted by the city androids towards the large trucks that would take them into the city for further testing. It happened often that groups were found trying to pass the perimeters, those who weren’t found dead from exposure were driven to the city where they would undergo testing and questioning. Some returned, some showed late reaction to the exposure and died in the city. The androids monitored the perimeters and were first response to trips in the fence. Carbon copies of humans made to survey the edge of humanity, the exposure levels were often too high near the perimeter that we just weren’t able to do it.

“I’ll pick up our dinner rations on my way home,” I avoid eye contact with my father as usual, the despair and emptiness my gaze was always met with was one let down I didn’t have to endure. “I’m over time again so I won’t be back until after eight.” All I get in response is a nod as he begins to make his way for the door. I collected the remains of morning ration, packing them in the cooler box that sat on the counter. Slipping on my torn gloves and battered boots, I grabbed the cooler box and headed for the door. The sun was bright when I made my way out the double steel doors at the bottom of the building stairwell, now high in the sky over top of us. I could see the hordes of people making their way to morning shift, with the read going a little longer than usual people were in a rush. No one wanted to lose portions of their rations for being late for the 8:00AM start time.

I could see Jake in the distance entering the education centre with some kids from his year. He was in his final year of school, once you turned 16 you were considered an adult and assigned to a location for shift. You really didn’t learn much when in school anyways, just boring recaps of our history, the nuclear attacks, the aftermath and the rebuild. At the end of your schooling you were assessed for a number of things which determined where you would be assigned for shift. I had been assigned to the corn field after assessment, some of the kids from my year were assigned to the Minte Mines, some to the carpentry facility just west of the field and very few to the city.

The city sat in the farthest South-West corner of the perimeter, the complete opposite of the corn field – on days where the air was clear you could faintly see the tallest buildings in the far distance, if you stood on one of the rooftops. The city jobs were what everyone wanted coming out of school, distribution centers, rationing police, food commissaries, android deployment and correction centres, interrogation units, the more respectable, less-labour intensive jobs. Outside of the city you had more hands-on work like working in the field or the Minte Mines, sanitary response teams, waste disposal, infrastructure correction and whatever other dirty work needed to take place in the grids. All of the food and resources from the grid work would be air-carried or driven to the city where it would be processed in the appropriate facilities.

Jake was really smart and well-rounded, but would most likely end up working the Mines due to his build. Even though he had only just turned 16, he was 5’10 and could carry over double his own weight. His assessment results would be in tomorrow with dinner ration pick up.

I made my way down the final row of buildings that lead to the wide corn field, peeking its husks over the eight foot fence that made its way around the whole 300 acres. The morning check in officer stood at the small entrance gate ahead of me. Before making my way over, I drop the small cooler box for rations on the Return Cart just outside the gates and scan my ID card across the small screen attached to the cart. “Ration Return Complete. Stone Family. June 5th 2235. 7:54AM. Tuckreach Return Cart 0456-A.” Once the cart conveyor belt swallowed the cooler box into the loading truck attached, I cross the street to where the entrance to the field greeted me and a dozen others alike.

“Present ID and state name,” the officer said countless times as each of us made our way to the front of the line.

“Schylar Stone,” I say aloud as I scan my ID card across the handheld screen in the officer’s hand. The lights turned green with a pleasant sound that confirmed my identity to allow me access to the shift.

“Marisol Daniels,” behind me Mrs. Daniels checked in for her morning shift.

“Mrs. Daniels, how are the boys? I know they worked with some of those kids from the read this morning found in the Forge.” Mrs. Daniels had four sons, all around me and Jakes ages, who worked over in the Minte Mines, her husband had passed away in a mine collapse years before when the boys were only young. She was getting frail with her age, her hair a silvery blonde and her skin worn from the years in the field.

“Oh, they’re alright. Mrs. Jacobs eldest was one of ’em though. I reckon she’s not doing so good.”

We made our way down the rows to where we were stationed for work that day, Mrs. Daniels catching me up on how her youngest was adjusting to his shifts in the mines. He finished his final year last spring and was struggling with the new norm. He had hoped for a city job or even something in waste disposal or infrastructure correction; anything but the Minte Mines.

The sun, now high above us in the sky beat down hotter than usual while we planted the rows upon rows. Sweat beaded on my forehead and dripped into my eyes blurring my vision until I would wipe my torn dirt covered gloves across them. My black t-shirt stuck to every part of my skin with moisture and my knees and back ached from being hunched over the dirt for so long. I looked up to the clear blue sky instantly blinded from the sun, closing my eyes and tilting my head far back to take a moment to really feel the warmth on my skin. The lunch bell rang from the shaky wooden pavilion erected on the East end of the field, at the edge of the perimeter.

As everyone made their way over, a commotion in a group of men caught my attention. Johnny, a man I had gotten to know over lunch breaks at the pavilion, was lying face up gasping for air. He was no younger or older than 45 and struggling to make it to the end of the day in the heat. I rushed over quickly and dropped to the dirt.

“Can someone get him some water! Please, quick!” I yelled to the crowded group around holding Johnny’s hand in mine and trying to cover the sun with my body. The hollowed faces stared back at me and no one said a word. “God dammit, someone get him some water, he’s overheating out here!”

One of the perimeter monitoring androids appeared within seconds, lifting Johnny to his feet in one swift movement, his fragile body twisting and folding as he moved, moaning in pain.

“A perimeter breach has occurred, all citizens please step away from the infected and return to the pavilion,” the android looked and sounded just like one of us, if it weren’t for their grey and white uniform you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.

“Perimeter breach? What are you talking about? He was working the field, two rows away from us, he’s just exhausted, it’s almost 45 degrees out here!” I take a step closer to where she stood with Johnny.

“A perimeter breach has occurred. Please return immediately to the pavilion for further instructions. The infected will be brought to the city correction centre for further treatment. This is a city official order.”

“Like hell he is, he just needs some water, he wasn’t even close enough to the perimeter for a breach or else everyone on his row would feel it too! Who was working on Johnny’s row?” I plead to the men who were crowded around him moments ago and are met by their eyes darting to the ground. I go to take another step towards them when she reaches forward with the small scan screen that each android is equipped with.

“Please present your ID card, continued disobedience of city official order results in 10% loss of ration.”

I stare at the group of men incredulously but know better than to open my mouth again. I pulled out my ID card and held it face down on the small screen.

“Schylar Stone. ID 47931. 10% ration loss. June 5th 2235. 1:03PM.”

And just as swiftly as it appeared, it was gone. I knew we wouldn’t see Johnny again, the sweet man who was missing half of one of his two front teeth, who’s hair was always sticking in all the wrong directions and was always willing to give you a little more of his share of lunch ration to help get you through the day. I stood there for a few more moments as the crowd returned to the pavilion to get their lunch, everyone so desensitized. Just last month Henry, a man who lived in our grid unit had collapsed while leaving the Minte Mines, a day later the mine resize closed the south mines and the fence was adjusted. No one mourned Henry, his unit was switched over to someone new and his shift filled at the mines. The south tunnel blocked and closed forever.

“Come on Sky,” Greg grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the pavilion, “what were we going to do? You can’t do that, you’re just going to lose more rations until they get tired of you and change your shift to something like sanitation or waste disposal.”

Greg and I met around 4 years ago when I finished my final year and was assigned to the field. He taught me the ropes because he had been assigned a year before me and tried his best to keep me in line so I could keep my rations.

“You got it good here in the field, don’t mess around with that. Your dad and Jake can’t lose you, think about that next time.” Greg was an absolute rock, he worked hard and stayed in line. His mum had died when he was being born and he was really close with his father, who worked alongside my mum. They turned up dead the same morning and he vowed to work hard, keep his family name alive and make worth of his life.

“I can’t just stand by, I just get so… so angry, I just..” before letting my emotions get the best of me, I close my eyes and stop walking. Greg wraps his hands around my upper arms and shakes me lightly.

“Sky, Sky, always with your head up in the sky,” he laughs as I open my eyes to glare back at him playfully, “One day, we’re going to go beyond The Reach, away from the field, maybe move shift into the city. But until then, get your ass in gear Sky, stop talking back and step in line.” He gives me a reassuring squeeze before dropping his arms to collect our lunch trays from the pavilion entrance. I thought about it a lot, us two getting away from The Reach, going to work in some distribution building or ration control centre in the city. People died in the grids day in and day out, but especially in The Reach because of the perimeter closing in so often, and the waste and sanitation teams being based here. Jake and dad cross my mind for a brief second and I forget about the idea of leaving The Reach.

“Yeah, one day.”