Walking the Ruins

Tower

We are all standing at the foot of the crystal tower. Even though the apples we had for breakfast didn't satisfy our stomachs, we decided to first have a look at it and search for food later.

The building is close by the river. The ground facing away from the water is covered by the shards from thousands of window panes that have crashed to the ground. Yet about half of its façade is still covered with glass.

Looking up makes me dizzy.

"We shouldn't linger here," Kevin says. "More of these windows might fall at any time."

"Yeah, let's get inside." Steve picks up a metal bar from the ground and steps towards a huge revolving door that seems to form the main entrance. We follow, our feet crunching on the glass covering the ground.

The door is stuck, but some of the floor-to-ceiling panes beside it are missing. Steve enters.

"Careful there," Jenny says.

"This has lasted for centuries, it won't collapse on us today." Steve hits his bar against a metal column, evoking a low, ringing sound, followed by the screech of a ceiling panel coming lose. It falls to the ground, a mere step away from him.

He jumps, frightened.

"See?" Jenny sounds angry. "Let's get out of here."

"No, we should check this out." I pass Steve to enter the foyer, keeping an eye on the few remaining ceiling panels above me. Most of them are already missing, the one that nearly fell on Steve was one of the last.

"I won't hit the building again, I promise," Steve says and joins me, and we thread our way through the rubbish littering the floor, advancing towards a set of elevators.

Kevin overtakes us and pushes one of the buttons beside the sliding doors, grinning. "I wanna go right to the top floor."

Steve laughs. "Good try. Let's take the stairs." He approaches a glass door beside the elevator bank and peers inside. "Here they are."

The door to the stairs is still whole, and it reluctantly opens on screeching hinges. Inside, it's gloomy. Steve ascends a couple of the concrete steps.

"You're sure it's safe?" Jenny asks.

"Rock solid." Steve stamps a foot. "Good, old concrete."

"You promised not to hit the building again," Jenny hisses. "Be—"

"Where's Elaine?" Rose interrupts her.

I look back into the foyer. "There she is."

She is standing before a man-sized structure on a pedestal. It takes me a moment to figure it out that it's a sculpture, an oversized, stylized head of shaped stone. Its eyes are wide open, and its mouth too. I step closer. The head looks as if it's screaming in agony.

Elaine moves her finger along its nose.

"That's a ghastly head." Rose passes me and lays an arm on Elaine's shoulder. "I wonder why they put something like that here. Come, let's go upstairs."

Elaine drops her hand and lets herself be guided away by Rose.

The stairs seem endless, and my legs are hurting when we reach the top floor. Steve, Kevin, and Jenny have already left the stairwell. I hear Elaine's and Rose's steps close behind me.

"This must have been a posh restaurant," Kevin says.

"Not anymore," I say.

What probably used to be expensive furniture is now a cracked and rent mess covering the floor. We step over it to approach the windows. Most of them are missing, and an irritated wind pulls at my hair as if trying to chase us away from a place it has ruled for years.

The view before us is breathtaking. It goes towards the lake and the mountains beyond. The shore is maybe half a kilometer away, with smaller ruins between us and the water. The water glitters in the rays of the sun. It stretches away from us, with a row of hills to its left and higher mountains on its right side. Even higher peaks stand at its other end, snow-covered but vague in the distance and the mist.

Jenny points to the smaller hills on the lake's left shore. "That's where we'll go. You'll see, it's lovely."

"Does anyone see anything?" Kevin asks. "I mean... does anyone see signs of living people."

We all look out, silently. There must be thousands of buildings out there, most of them in decay. Broken bridges, overgrown roads. The landscape beyond the city is covered in forest. No signs of people alive. No fields, no smoke, no boats. Just decay and nature in the process of reclaiming it.

"Let's check the other sides," Steve says.

Sick of watching ruins, I walk through the large room, my eyes on a huge bar dominating its center, like a ship floating in a sea of debris. Four long, wooden counters form its sides. I approach one of them and move a finger over its dusty top. The bar surrounds a construction of glass shelves, which probably used to hold rows upon rows of bottles. Most of them are gone now, probably toppled over and swept away by storms. One is still standing. Its glass is crystal clear, with a finger's width of dark dregs at its bottom. Might be interesting to sniff this. I start looking for a way into the bar when I see a movement at the window front.

Elaine, alone, steps through an empty window frame onto what probably used to be an outside terrace.

Dismissing the thought of the bottle, I decide to join her. I make my way through the rubble as she moves outwards. The outer edge of the terrace was obviously secured by a wall of glass, but most of its panes have fallen, some of them lying broken on the ground. It does not look safe.

"Elaine!" I shout as I navigate around a tilted table barring my way.

She does not seem to hear me. Or she ignores me. And she takes a few more steps away from me.

Her foot hits an obstacle on the ground. She flails her arms, toppling forward. But she can't stop her fall.

I see her disappear over the edge.

Her cry will haunt my nights.

It took us ages to descend the stairs.

We searched for hours but didn't find her.

She fell over the side of the tower facing the river, so she was probably carried away by it.

Or something snatched her away.

That evening, we sit around the fire. Apples can't satisfy our hunger and our craving. The few words we exchange can't assuage the pain.

I wasn't that close to Elaine. But she was one of us.

Rose is sobbing. Jenny holds her.

It should be me to give her solace. But it was my idea to climb that bloody crystal tower. No one has blamed me. But still, it was me who proposed it.

Four days here. One of us dead.

This world is unforgiving.

I wonder how long we'll last.