Walking the Ruins

Apples

I gaze at the ruins of the city, the lake, and the mountains. The only things alive seem to be the trees, the creepers climbing the ruins, and the rest of the plants—and a flock of birds, tiny specks circling the tall, crystalline building.

My stomach grumbles. I finished off the last of the dried fruits hours ago.

"Do you hear that?" Elaine asks. "Over there?"

I first think that she is talking about the noise my stomach just made, but she points towards the lake. Turning my head in that direction, I hear faint yowls and barks.

"These are dogs!" says Steve. "Good! People must be close by. Come!"

He heads off, and the others follow without hesitation.

I hesitate. They're like lemmings running after their lead animal, heading for a cliff. But I don't feel like staying behind alone, so I join the stampede.

The city is now on our right side. The path is still an overgrown, former road, but the trees and shrubs stand closer. Fallen trunks and debris bar our way, and we have to thread our path through them, which makes progress slow. The yowling and barking can still be heard from ahead, gradually becoming louder.

Jenny is walking in front of me. I am pleased to see that her sleeping bag is back where it belongs, perching on her backpack. She has changed into shorts, her hiking pants apparently tucked away. Scratches from navigating the shrubs cover her legs. I bless my morning's decision to stay in my long trousers, even though they are making me sweat.

A smell like rotten fruit clings to the air. I wonder what's decaying in that backpack of hers.

My thoughts are interrupted as I suddenly bump into Jenny. We both fall. I quickly struggle back to my feet. An unexpected, hot flash of anger runs up my spine. "Hey, what makes you stop like that?"

Jenny gets on her hands and knees and rises, slowly, scowling at me. She swallows, then points to a tree close by. "Look there!"

I study the tree. It's an apple tree, and I would not know an apple tree from an oak if it didn't carry apples. So this one does carry them. Not particularly large ones, but definitely apples. Some of them are scattered on the ground, in various states of decay. That's where the smell came from.

The others have turned back to join us, and their eyes also follow Jenny's outstretched arm, recognizing the tree for what it is. Seconds later, we are all standing under its branches, happily munching apples and fighting off wasps. I have seen larger ones, but their sweet juice makes my taste buds sing.

After having filled our stomachs and backpacks, Steve tells us to be quiet. We all listen. The barking has ceased.

"Quick, let's go on. It can't be far," he says.

He turns and starts walking down the road again. We follow. The barking resumes.

The noise of the animals is unpleasantly close when Steve stops. He points ahead. We join him, wordlessly.

We are standing at the top of a slope, which leads to a clearing below us, where we can see a couple of dogs, fighting over something.

"Wolves," says Kevin, his voice low.

I hate the sound of this word. "How do you know they're wolves?" I whisper. I'd rather think they are dogs.

Kevin hesitates. "I'm not sure. They also could be large shepherds. But look at what they're doing."

Only now I realize what is happening below us.

"Ugh," Rose says before I am able to utter a similar sound. "They're eating something, fighting over it. Some other animal."

We are watching, in fascinated silence, instinctively standing closer to each other. There are six dogs, or wolves, whatever, which have apparently killed some hapless brownish prey. I don't recognize what it was, maybe a deer. The animals are obviously not domesticated, and there are no humans in sight.

A shower of pinpricks runs down my back.

One of the animals looks towards us. It seems to study our merits as its next repast. It takes a few slow, crouched steps in our direction

I point at it. "That one has seen us!"

"Come, let's get away from here," Steve says.

We are about to turn when the animal approaching us emits a weirdly wailing bark. As if hit by an electric jolt, we start running. The other dogs, or wolves, are now wailing and barking, too.

We head back the way we came, jumping over logs, crashing through the undergrowth. Any traces of fatigue are gone.

My left foot hits something, half-hidden between some creepers, and I crash headlong on the ground, banging my head against a hard object.

Dazed, I see a fat, black bug walking slowly across a corroded metal plate only a few centimeters from my nose, its carapace glittering in the sunlight.

Someone helps me up by pulling on my pack. Looking back, I see Jenny.

"Run, dammit!" She pushes me on, shoving me back to reality.

I resume my running, hearing her steps behind me.

Later, we reach the plateau, the one with the view over the city, where we heard the barking the first time. Steve stops and looks back.

Everything is quiet, the only sound is our heavy panting.

"Do you think we've lost them?" Kevin asks.

Steve shrugs. "I don't think they followed us."

"How do you know?" Rose's words are loud. She draws a breath. "These are fucking wild wolves! Wild animals. What do we do when they attack?"

"They are not wolves," Elaine says.

Since she hardly ever says anything, her words make everyone look at her.

She gazes into the distance, her face devoid of emotion. "Wolves kill at dawn. And you usually don't see them during daylight, they hide. It must be wild dogs."

"Does it make a difference?" Rose crosses her arms over her chest.

Kevin lays an arm around her shoulder. "We're together. They won't attack a group of humans."

She pushes him away. "Of course, mister knows-it-all." Her face is flushed. "If you're so smart then tell us how to get away from this God forsaken shithole of a place."

He opens his mouth, closes it again, and shrugs. "Sorry, Rose. I don't know."

Yes, we don't know anything. I squeeze my eyes shut, willing this ugly, broken world to go away.