Walking the Ruins

Gaining knowledge and a canoe

The next few days, we spend most of our time in the house with the "library" that I have discovered, exploring its secrets.

We find that most of the books can still be read if you turn the pages carefully. Apparently, the downstairs door has an airtight seal, and the room's interior was dry, which slowed down the paper's decay.

It comes as no surprise to me that Kevin is totally engrossed with the trove of knowledge that the books provide, and he spends most of his time studying them, but the rest of us are intrigued, too.

One of the books is about history. It starts with the turn of the new millennium and ends around the year 2200.

We learn that most western European countries merged to a single state in 2189. Canada had joined the U.S.A. some decades earlier, and the two of them entered a loose association with a block called America Latina that included the countries between Mexico and Argentina. There were some tensions between the old and the new world, but never any open conflict.

The states of Asia started to wall themselves in, with only the Philippines, Japan and India maintaining active contacts to the outside and forming links between the Chinese block and the rest of the world.

Africa managed to gain power and wealth. In the south, a strong and stable leadership in Kenya managed to forge a federation of the states roughly south of the equator, while the countries of the Maghreb formed the point of crystallization for a similar coalition in the north. These two African blocks maintained mostly peaceful and cooperative relations with each other. The ensuing stability helped the naturally rich continent to thrive. But there were substantial tensions with Europe and the two American groups, all of which were reluctant to loose their influence in Africa.

However, neither this history book nor any other of the tomes we find tell us anything about the reason why civilization has failed.

But the books are not the only things of interest that the basement holds.

Many of the boxes in the shelves contain provisions, which smell like hell when opened. We discard them outside.

Other boxes contain various equipment. While the passage of time has rendered some of the stuff useless, much is still functional, such as simple tools, nails, screws, clamps, knives, and dishes.

We also find weapons. Experiments with a shotgun leave Steve with burns on both his hands, and we decide that the ammunition has apparently turned unstable. A crossbow that I discover seems substantially functional, but its string breaks after a number of shots.

Kevin is particularly intrigued by an electrical generator that can be driven by a small water turbine. He is eager to install it in the brook beside our house and hopes to make it work again. I'd love to have electric lights and hot water.

Many of the machines remain enigmatic, we have no clue what they should do. And most of them seem beyond repair. But Kevin is not dissuaded.

Rose and Jenny are digging through clothing and linen we discover in some of the larger boxes. Much of it has turned brittle, just like the blankets on the beds, but some of the synthetic and cotton materials have withstood the passage of time. Rose finds a garishly orange raincoat that fits her well and that she now claims as her own. I don't mind, I don't think that color would suit me.

At the very back of the basement, we find a boat. It is some kind of large canoe, with a fiberglass hull. It barely fits through the door and up the stairs, but we finally succeed in getting it outside and carry it to the lake. It is surprisingly light, and it turns out to be completely seaworthy after all these years.

The vessel comfortably holds three of us, with spare room for equipment.

"The one who built the bunker must have been some kind of survivalist," Rose says, from under her orange coat one evening while we walk back to our house in a drizzle. We are discussing theories about who built the bunker or library, and why.

"I think so, too", Kevin agrees. "But it looks as if the basement has not been used since it happened. Since the catastrophe happened, I mean, ... or whatever. The beds are untouched, and so are the provisions. It must have happened quickly."

I nod in agreement but remain silent. Not only Sumo's foot, but also the skull we found on our first day here still haunts my memory. On our excursions through the ruins, we continued to find human remains—mostly bones and rags of clothing. Many seemed to have died outside. But quite a number of them were in their beds, too. It is hard to see a pattern.

The riddle persists. And I hate riddles.

I look around me. Even though the weather is dreary, the snow has vanished, and the first tender green of spring can be seen everywhere. The world is awakening from winter.

"Hey folks," I say aloud. "It's spring. So it's time. You've promised me that we would go to that big valley, in spring. To have a look at whatever made that smoke."

And this time, I won't back down. We will go.