The Forgotten Ones: Charles

     I had been hiking for days. Hills and valleys covered by thick untamed forest went on forever, certainly farther than anything I had ever imagined. I reached into my satchel to find some of the bars I packed before I left to calm the roar of my stomach, but all that was inside were the old maps I had been hiding, some trash, and a spare battery. With nothing for miles, the possibilities of finding new supplies were doubtful. It would mean returning to civilization, and that was a risk I wasn't willing to take. Food would have to wait. Swallowing my hunger, I trudged on and tried to tune out the pain I was feeling deep in my gut. Of course, I knew the search wasn't going to last much longer. Either I was going to find what I was looking for soon, or I'd have to message for help because I wasn't going to last much longer. Thankfully, when I set up camp the night before I was only a few miles away. The maps I had stolen all pointed to one place and I was going to make it there before sundown, so I had other things to worry about. Whatever was out there, it was going to be just past the shallow stream and a mile into the dark wildwood up ahead. True enough, just as they had said it was, there it stood.

     The ruins of the building stood tall, blackened by dirt and extinguished fires. Probably built circa-1980 by the look of things, the building was a stain amidst the wildlife that overtook the man-made structure. The city had gone to hell long ago, the result of failed industry, heartless politicians, and the abrupt decline of the national economy. The rich had left when the money ran out and the poor eventually followed. If there were any remaining residents, they were surely ready to die and fit in with the rest of their surroundings, to decompose and feed the earth which now grew wild and free. It may have been unusual once, to see a place so broken and overtaken by nature, but cities like these are all over the country nowadays. Homes, businesses, and whole towns were abandoned once the domes were erected. Climate controlled, population controlled, and government controlled. Not outside in the wilderness though, and definitely not inside this abandoned building. I didn't know what was inside, but if the rumors were true, it was necessary if my plans were ever to succeed.

     It was hard to see with the breathing mask on and the sound of my breath was deafening. I don't know if it was the silence or the fear, but I could barely hear my own thoughts over the flow of clean air. The mask was necessary though if I was going to survive outside the protection of the dome. Wandering through the darkness, I stumbled over books that were strewn across the floor. This place used to be a library in another life, probably university judging by the size. A spiral staircase, now missing sections of railing and steps, could be seen at the center of the room. It was faintly illuminated, maybe by a hole in the ceiling, but it didn't bring much light to anything else. What once was a house of knowledge was now a tomb, with only flashes of light able to leak in past the trees that blocked the windows. How could I possibly find anything in such darkness? Branches crashed through the windows, but amidst the debris lied overturned desks, old shelves, and stacks of books. They formed walls, creating a labyrinth that no plant, however wild it may be, could have built on its own. This was man-made, meant to keep people like me out. A good sign I was on to something. 

     I felt my way around in the darkness, weaving through the makeshift maze and eventually becoming completely disoriented. There was no way of knowing if I were any closer to finding what I was looking for, and honestly, I wasn't sure what it was supposed to look like. My entire excursion was based on rumors and whispers. Hushed stories told by scared folks much older than I was that remembered life outside of the dome. I was the only one crazy enough to think I could find the tool I needed, something called a compass. Eventually I decided to make my way toward the light of the spiral staircase. The first floor, with all of its hurdles, was clearly set up to be an an obstacle. If anyone went through this much trouble, they wouldn't leave anything of value to be found down here. Hungry and out of patience, I let my frustrations get the best of me. I screamed, my cry muffled by the mask, and in a fit of rage I decided to destroy the room. I grabbed at whatever I could feel, pulling away at the structures and tossing the debris out of my way. At that moment nothing mattered more than reaching the light, and the shortest distance between two points was a straight line. Suddenly the faint glow of the stairway disappeared. Something was up there, and it knew I was getting close.

     "Hello," I called out, "is anyone there?". The sound of my voice broke the silence, but there was no response. That made things all the more eerie. I crept toward the staircase, cautious not to leave myself open to attacks from above. I grabbed a book from the floor and held it over my head knowing full well it would do little to protect me. "Hello," I tried again, "I'm, uh, I've come from one of the domes about one hundred miles south of here. I'm looking for a... compass?" Still nothing, I began to wonder if the lights being turned off was a fluke, triggered by more of Mother Nature's mission to reclaim the land that was once hers. My heartbeat had almost returned to a steady rate when a loud clang echoed throughout the building and a bright light illuminated the stairwell. Heart racing, I approached the stairs slowly and turned my head up toward the light. It was blindingly bright and I couldn't make out much of anything except a shadow that peered over a ledge. The shadow stared, examining me, determining if I was threat. Maybe it was the forced smile on my face. I did my best to seem friendly so as not not to get killed. Then again, it was probably how I cowered and was still holding a book over my head that did the trick. Either way, the shadow disappeared, the binding light dimmed, and clank - a mechanism of some sort was activated.

     The whir of gears turning pierced my eardrums. So much time spent alone had made me sensitive to sound, and the clicks, squeals and humming rattled my brain. Adjusting to a world of noise, I was finally able to focus on exactly what was happening in front of me. I stared wide-eyed at the staircase. It was a marvel to behold, pieces of railing and steps emerged seemingly out of thin air and settled into their rightful positions. When it was all through, the stairs were brand new and gleamed in the light. I approached with caution. Despite how stable they now seemed to be, I wasn't sure I should trust what was in front of me. The shadowy figure stood one flight up, looming ominously with a metal face and one single eye. It motioned for me to come up but I dared not move. It raised it's arms in the air and I flinched, afraid of the pain it was about to inflict. Instead it held the sides of it's head and lifted up. It was a mask, and underneath was a young boy. His face was smudged with dirt and oil, but his smile shone bright. "C'mon up," he shouted, "it's totally safe! Well, kinda." He laughed and ran off, back to whatever he was up to on the second floor.

     Upstairs, it was a completely different world. A blue light illuminated sections of the room. Stations, each with their own workbench, were covered with tools and gadgets. The boy stood at the far end of the room, mask once again covering his face. The room's light flickered and sparks flew at his station. Whatever he was up to looked dangerous. He set down his tools, pulled off his gloves and darted over to greet me. Tossing his protective mask aside, he grabbed my hands and shook them furiously. His hands felt hot, like he had been playing with fire all day. "Name's Henry. You can call me Hank. This is my workshop! What's you're name? Why are you wearing that mask? What did you say you were looking for? Oh my god, you should see this!" His rapid fire questions knocked me off balance and I stumbled over my words as he pulled me to the table he had been working at. "I'm Charles. I, uh..." "Hey Chuck! Check this out, it's a flying camera and it's nearly indestructible, see!" He pulled a pair of goggles over his eyes and picked up the controls. The camera took off and almost immediately crashed, busting into a dozen pieces. Hank fell back as if he himself had run into the wall. Looking up at me, he turned beet red. "Okay, still needs some work I guess."

     I was baffled. Here was this kid Hank, just a few years younger than I was and living alone out in the middle of nowhere. He seemed healthy and he was breathing the free air without a filter, which was more than a little strange. I stared, unsure of what to say, but that didn't matter. Hank spoke a mile a minute, saying any and everything that came to mind. He was full of excitement, pleased to have a visitor to pull around his workshop. He seemed happy to have me there, if only to show off all of his inventions and gadgets. I didn't mind. I hadn't realized just how much I missed people. The few days I had spent traveling on my own, laying low and only moving through the deserted zones, had made me lonelier than I had anticipated. His manic enthusiasm was actually pretty fun. Plus, his tour gave me a chance to see if I could find what I was looking for - the compass. I picked up all sorts of doodads, and each time, Hank would beam with pride. "That's my favorite!" he said with each contraption. I would have thought it was ridiculous if he wasn't so sincere. He truly loved his inventions, even the ones that didn't work. "Don't work yet," he would tell me, and when he did I could see the gears turning in his head.

     As I took the grand tour, something strange caught my eye. I noticed a table sitting in the shadows. Hank was going on about one of his thingamabobs, a pair of handles that attach to any surface, but the mysterious table had my attention. "...and they're handy for opening the doors of abandoned buildings!" Hank explained to me how they worked, their strength, and the internal mechanisms involved. Even though I enjoyed show and tell, I started to get impatient. I hadn't traveled all this way to look at his toys. The kid was busy talking, so he didn't notice I had wandered over to the dark table. By the light of the neighboring stations, I could see there was a small box. My instincts told me it might be exactly what I was looking for. Doing my best not to draw attention to myself, I reached for the package to peer inside. "Wait, don't!" The fear in Hank's eyes matched the concern in his voice. "I wouldn't do that. Not unless you want to lose that arm." I slowly stepped away. The look on his face said everything. He was not lying. "So that wasn't the compass?" I asked. "Compass? In there? Hahahaha!" Hank's laughter eased the tension. "No, no. The Compass is upstairs." He grabbed a towel, wiped off the dirt and grime from his hands, slipped his work gloves on and headed for the spiral staircase. "C'mon Chuck. I'll take you to what you're lookin' for."

     We passed by the next two floors, the light of the staircase faintly illuminating our surroundings. Hank was talking in a whisper, but I wasn't paying any attention. I was trying to catch a glimpse of what might have been hiding in the shadows, but it was hard to see anything in this place. With plants and trees swallowing the forgotten library, the light of day was unable to breathe any life into its halls. Now that it was night, it had somehow become even darker. I stumbled, my foot catching on one of the stairs. Hank didn't notice, continuing forward while telling me something about collecting materials for his workshop. Even with his chatter, I could sense the feeling of silence that flowed through the air. Hank didn't fit in here, so why did he stay? What kept him tethered to the darkness? He seemed so full of energy. There was a fire in his eyes that didn't match his surroundings. I was so lost in thought that I didn't notice Hank had stopped while I continued up to the next flight. He grabbed the back of my shirt and pulled me off the step. Startled, I screamed but it was muffled by Hank's gloved hand over the small breathing apparatus covering my mouth. He turned me around and pressed a finger to his lips. "Shhh." This floor was as dark as all the others, but I could see a door with light leaking out from the other side. I pressed but it didn't budge. It was locked. Sealed tight. My guess was that the door had been secured for a reason, and the fact that there was no doorknob or whathaveyou to help pry it open made it the most secure room in the entire place. "Locked," Hank whispered. He reached into the inside of his jacket, pulling out one of his gadgets. It was the handle he had shown me earlier. Pressing it to the door, the handle clicked, whirred, and beeped. You could hear the sound of the door's lock turning, echoing throughout the building. Hank smiled and motioned at the door, "After you."

     I took a deep breath of courage to fight off the fear I felt in the pit of my stomach. Could a dragon or some other mythical creature be lurking on the other side? Like the old stories, a monster would be guarding the treasure that no hero could or would ever get their hands on, and I would be added to his collection of bones. I knew it was a ridiculous thought, but somehow it was less terrifying than the mystery in front of me. I looked back to Hank for assurance that I wasn't in danger, but he had disappeared. Most likely to his workshop to tinker with his toys. With another deep breath, I pressed my palm against the door. It was cold, and a crisp air brushed my face as I peeked into the room. Cautiously, I stepped inside and what I saw was much different than what I had imagined. It wasn't a dungeon or an evil lair. It was simply another wing of the library. The room was untouched by man, wildlife, or even time itself. Perfectly preserved, it was exactly how it had been ages ago. Every book looked to be in place, with signs indicating their organization and genre. I browsed, never having seen so many books in one place before. Nowadays people prefer electronic books. Owning physical copies takes up too much space, which is limited in the domes. The wealth of knowledge was stunning, and in this library was where I found her.

     At the far end of the room, a young woman sat cross-legged on the floor with books all around her. Some stacks were taller than others, but all at arms length. One on top of the other, she was surrounded. Hunched over a large book that rested on her lap, her hair hung over her face like the curtains that covered the windows. Her head swayed slowly, and a large pair of headphones covered her ears. A cord ran along the floor, connecting her to a nearby machine spinning a large black disc. I was going to announce my presence, but before I could, she held up her hand and motioned for me to wait. I stood by anxiously, eager to find out who she was, why I was brought here, and where I could find what I was looking for. After a moment, she smiled and pulled off her headphones. She clutched them to her chest with a wistful sigh. "Stravinsky...". She looked up at me, pulling the hair away from her face, and her expression turned. Her brow furrowed and eyes looked me over, searching for answers to questions she had about her newfound guest, but I had questions of my own. "Hank brought me up here," I said, "to find something. A compass. I've come a long way. I really need to find it." She paused, choosing her words carefully. "To what ends? What will you do, once you find what you're looking for?" It was direct while avoiding any sort of answer. She stared at me intensely, waiting for a response that I had yet to find. "Things need to change," I said eventually, "and from what I understand, the compass will guide me towards a solution." She smiled, taking my hands as she stood. She was beautiful, her skin soft and fair. "I'm Annie, but some people... they call me The Compass."

     In most all of the domes you will find small groups of dissatisfied citizens. Pockets of individuals who are angry and ready for change. The nation's reliance on the protection of the domes and those who ran them had gotten out of hand.What once was a government by the people and for the people had become a business run by a handful of wealthy men. These men had the foresight to offer a "bold solution" to our nation's problems after the bombs dropped. Protective shells built over our most important cities would shield us from future attacks, and at the same time guaranteed clean air and controlled weather. It was science and technology in action, and it was a success. Everywhere you looked you could find the AmeriCorp logo along with shiny, happy faces. The truth was, the billboards, news stories, and advertisements were merely propaganda meant to brainwash the populous into believing we had found a better way of living. They didn't advertise the sanctioned killings they used to control the rising population. There were no stories on the long-term effects of artificial air and how many of us were getting sick from an "unexplained illness". You won't see a billboard advertising life outside the dome. Most people I knew were scared. We weren't scared of the outside world, we were scared of what was going on in our home. Something had to change.

     "My name is Charles." I reached out to shake her hand, but Annie had already moved past the introductions stage and wandered down one of the aisles. "What's with that thing covering your mouth?" she called out from wherever she had disappeared to, "It makes you sound like you are in a cave." She chortled, amused by her own observation. I tried to defend myself, "It's to breathe. I don't understand how you can live out here without one!" "We didn't always live in this place. My brother and I lived a few miles away, but after mom..." She choked on her words, never finishing her thought. "Anyway, I've never had any trouble breathing. See!" She reappeared huffing and puffing, and I couldn't stop myself from smiling at her silly faces. "So, Charlie, you're looking for help?" Annie dropped a book down on the table next to me. It was an old road atlas, once used by travelers who moved unafraid of toxic air and a harsh government. "I know this book is very old, and most of the roads are no longer there, but it's all I have!" she's said sheepishly, "Let's take a look." Thumbing through the pages, she muttered under her breath, "C'mon, c'mon..." I wasn't sure what she was doing, but it was strange considering her eyes were shut tight. "There! Right there." She slammed her finger down and looked up at me, opening her eyes. "If we are going to find any help, we are going to need to start there."