Capítulo 3: NYC - Nails, Ylide, Corpses
The library was as tall as a fucking skyscraper. I'd always been in awe of the building. The first floor had no windows and the library had let young'uns graffiti it. Of course only legal shit. But it looked cool as hell. It gave the library an urban look. But most of the graffiti was beautifully done; that bad shit had gotten painted over quickly. I tried the front doors. They were sliding doors. No electrictiy meant I had to pry them open. I used the crowbar.
The library was on the first three floors. It was one of the biggest and definietly the coolest in all of NYC. I remembered that the science things were on the second floor. I made a beeline to the Evolution / Scientific History section.
The rows and rows of books were intimidating. But they were also fucking exciting. I guess I was still a bit of a student at heart. You can't study something for almost six years and not have a thing for books.
I scanned over the titles, running my fingers over them. Yakov's Guide to Mutation, The Ultimate Book of Evolution, A Day Away from the Sun, Fivehundred years of Humans...I ended up picking A Day away from the Sun. I sat down at one of the round tables. I never studied here. I hadn't been a med-student afterall.
The book was almost heavier than the crowbar. I lay it on the table and heaved it open. The table of contents could have been written in chinese; I didn't understand a fucking word. Neutrons, electrons, ylides. I skipped to the chapter labelled Mutation.
Most of it was complete bullshit, at least to me. But I ripped a few pages out. They might help me later. For fuck's sake I'll put one in here.
Mutations occur on a daily basis. They are evolution. Let's take the example of a bird. They're migration has drasticly changed due to climate change, they don't have to fly long distances anymore. Migration to South Africa is a rare yet still existent phenomenom. Why is it rare? Most birds have developped shorter wings due to that fact that long-distance flights have become a rarity. The mutated animals, the ones with the bit shorter wings could survive better in urban areas due to the ability to dodge cars and drones. They no longer needed to migrate so the wings became more useful if shorter. This kind of evolution has been jotted down for years starting with Darwin's On the Origin of Species. His concept remains true to even this day.
I left the library in high spirits. My backpack wasn't much heavier; I'd only taken handfulls of paper. I needed to find some food. I was pretty sure the supermarket behind the library still had some food in the back. I thought about seeking a Lingerie store to buy Joline something pretty and new, but I decided against it. I had more important things to do.
The word empty sums up the grocery store. No people, almost no food on the shelves which gave me the oppertunity to look through the store from one end to the other. There was mud on the floor. Only a few plastic bags hung next to the cash register. I searched the shelves for canned goods. I found two cans of beans. Both expired about two months ago. I didn't care. Old food is better than starving to death. I had no luck in the rest of the store and after about half an hour the place had started to really creep me out. It was so eerie. I shouldered my backpack and left.
I scanned the street for Narts. The good thing about those motherfuckers is that they don't fly in pacts. We'd have no chance if they did that. I guess evolution wanted to give us people a little hope. Fuck that. I started on my trek home, keeping a look out for any Sex shops.
Almost every young man dreams about something like this. It sounds fucking awesome; living in a deserted city, fending for yourself, fighting Narts. But the truth is, sometimes it gets fucking lonely. And the realization that it's just going to get worse and harder sometimes seems to strangle you. Or maybe that was just me. I had been an accountant after all, not a safari motherfucker.
I decided to take a small detour, a path I hadn't taken in a while. It would only make my way home about half an hour longer. I had to kill time. I wanted to think about Margot. I wondered if she'd been right and we'd never see each other again. Don't judge me. I hadn't been with anyone except for Joline and quite frankly; I was yearning for some new pussy.
I wrinkled my nose. A strange stank had filled the air. It came at me in waves. If I stepped one step to the right I didn't smell it anymore. I peered about me, wondering where it could be coming from. My eyes locked on a wooden door. It was boarded and nailed shut but something (probabaly a Nart) had tried to pry it open and had sucseeded in ripping a small bit of the door out. I cautiously neared it. The smell intensified. I hadn't smelled something that fucking nasty in a fucking long time. I'd describe it as a mixture of burning rubber, old socks and a sweaty locker room that hadn't been aired out in years. I will never forget the way it reeked in that alley. I wish I could. I pinched my nose shut; I'd worked on a farm for four years. I could deal with smelly, if that doesn't impress you that shut the fuck up.
I squated down and peeked into the whole. Thank God my stomache was empty. The sight made me sick. I was staring into a halfway decayed man's face. I could see little worms snaking their way through the whites of his eyes. His mouth was open and a dried line of blood stained his cheek and the floor. I hadn't seen a corpse this bad my whole life and I certainly had never smelled dead person before.
I admit I was transfixed. I stared into his eye. It was alive again, somehow. Infested, but alive. It even trembled a bit. Probably from the wormies. So, what did you do to make Charles Darwin hate you? I couldn't help but compare myself to the wretched fellow. Was I better or was I just lucky? Maybe my immune system was robuster, maybe I was more intellegent, maybe I had a good gut feeling for things. Or maybe I was just one lucky ass motherfucker.
Eventually I left. The smell had become so bitter that I thought I might pass out if I stayed any longer. On my way home I came to the conclusion that the guy behind the hole was just an poor soul who'd been struck by fate in a terrible way. I wondered how I'd die.
I hoped that when I died whatever killed me wouldn't make a fucking mess out of it. Shoot me quietly, evolution.
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