The Air We Breathe

The world is silent around me.
No breath or movement is wasted.
The parrots sit in the dry, scorched skeleton of a tree soundless. Their feathers do not rustle. Their beaks do not open.
Never have I felt so isolated.
A dry wind blows, caressing the dusty earth, uninhibited by building or any semblance of civilisation. Because there is none.
Not anymore.
Mum used to tell me the world was different. She said that there were skyscrapers and vehicles in more abundance than birds in the sky.
Now all I see are birds. They perch themselves upon the rubble; silent spectators of a dying world.
I have no recollections of my Mum’s world. I was born in the midst of it all. She said it all happened so quickly, she’s not sure if she remembers it all either.
I still hear her rasping voice, drifting towards me as I sat in the heat.
“War, disease and death define humanity. Their ‘solutions’ solved nothing…The water stopped flowing.”
Soon after the freshwater sources had depleted, rations were enforced. Promises of solutions and alternatives filled the air. But not our mouths.
Desalination, and other chemical processes were attempted. Nothing worked. You can’t hydrate ten billion people cheaply.
Before they found a solution, millions had perished from dehydration.
Mum was one of those. By the time I was nineteen, disease had washed over her body – a never-ending wave of sickness and pain – until she eventuated into a statistic.
A number.
A forgotten soul in a lost world.

My feet burned on the dirt beneath my feet. Sharp, searing bursts of pain made me wince as I felt the blisters form and burst.
I couldn’t stop, I couldn’t run. Energy is too precious to be wasted, and with the little water we have been provided with – we cannot afford to get excessively thirsty.
Besides, pain is relative.
There was the burning sensation at the back of my throat, the feeling of never being satiated – but always having enough to survive on. There were the blisters on my skin and the constant sunburn. There was waking up every morning, with nothing. There was being alone.
I didn’t know which hurt the most.

I reached my destination.
Home.
It was the pathetic pile of rubble which sheltered me from the sun, and the night.
But at least I had a roof over my head.

I collapsed the ground, dust flying around me, settling in the back of my throat and nose. I didn’t splutter, or cough. No bodily fluid could be wasted.

Upon the horizon, a lone figure walked towards me. Though I doubted they could recognise my form, my shelter was the only one within kilometres – so I was unavoidable.
I picked up my makeshift knife. A sharpened rock tied to a stick.
Better than nothing.

Civilisation was a lost concept this world.
I didn’t know that the human body was sixty percent water, however someone did. That collective group now believed the only practical way to survive was to consume
those closest to you. Vamps.
Apparently humanity and survival were conflicting values.

I wasn’t afraid to die. This world offered nothing. Vampiric people roamed the streets, desperate for survival while those left of us with morals died slowly of disease and dehydration.
It was hardly a life.
So losing it didn’t matter.

Which is why I was surprised that when the figure approached me, fear assaulted my senses. My heart began to beat loudly, echoing in my ears.
The woman’s black hair was cropped short around her head. Her skin resembled mine, tanned, but tainted with a red shine. The sunburn escaped no one. Tall and slender, her clothes were ragged and masculine.
My hand tightened around the hilt of my knife, and I glared at her, fear searing into my blood.
I flinched as she held out her hand. She laughed softly, a pleasant sound.
“I’m Audrey,” she smiled.
I’d never seen a more inviting handshake. Yet I didn’t extend mine.
“Clever,” she murmured, sitting down next to me.
I stood up and distanced myself from her, pointing the knife in her direction. I was curious, but I wasn’t moronic.
She put her hands up in front of her, a gesture of peace.
“I’m not going to eat you,” she suddenly looked sad, “I’ve just escaped that.”
“Prove it.”
Wordlessly she lifted her shirt, exposing her shallow stomach. A gash from her bottom right rib, to the sharp outline of her hip was still raw.

Sweat dripped from her forehead and I became aware of the anguish and exhaustion that lined her face.
“Get in the shade.” I said sharply, looking to the sky. I hid my face from her. I was uneasy, she knew it.
A hawk flew overhead. It would be dark soon.
“I’m Sean.”
She smiled softly.

We talked until it was dark. It was hard to avoid topics such as the vampiric humans we had encountered, and how we were coping – but we did it. The most ancient of survival techniques is avoidance, and neither of us was ready for a breakdown.
When the sky turned a deep purple, indicating the presence of night, I told her she could stay the night.
We lay on the earth, which would stay warm for the duration of the night. The cold was an almost alien concept.
“I have an agenda,” she whispered to me.
“Yes?”
“I want your help.”
“Was there a test I passed?”
“Not initially.”
I sighed, and sat up, the dust sticking to the sweat on my body. Uncovering my water bottle ration, I took a tiny sip of the precious commodity. My throat screamed for more. I ignored it.
“What is it?”
I could hear the excitement in her voice.
“The birds!” she announced.
“Yes?”
“They’re the only animals we see.”
“And?”
“They’re surviving!”
“They can fly.”
“No. Not just that.”
“What then?”
“They don’t get rations. And they can’t access the storage pools.”
“There is water!” I whispered.
“No.”
“No?”
“There is hope.”
I paused.
“It’s not a good idea.”
“Why not?” she hissed.
“It’s too dangerous. The Vamps, the heat, the disease.”
“I’ll go without you then.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s your loss. Just keep quiet.”
“I’m sorry.” I repeated softly.
We drifted off to sleep. My eyes closed only for my mind to fill with tortured dreams.

When I woke, Audrey was packing her things. She dusted off her water bottle and placed it gingerly into her bag.
The sun scorched my face, the beginnings of blisters forming.
I cursed as I felt my indecisiveness lift. The fog of confusion in my mind drifted away, only to reveal hope.
“Audrey?”
“Yes?” she said shortly.
I raised myself up and sighed.
“I’m coming.”
She couldn’t hide her smile.

We set off with the sun well in the sky.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“Sydney.”
“Why?” I was appalled.
“Birds.” She answered simply.
I was stunned into wordlessness. It would be idiotic to say birds were scarce in Sydney. Nothing was scarce in Sydney.
The Vamps ran rampant.

We walked for five days, never increasing our pace to what would cause us to be uncomfortable and sweat more than the heat made us. It was ridiculous to push ourselves, we’d perish.
Sydney was no longer the busy city of old.
More like a ghost town, the Harbour Bridge was the last indication that civilisation had inhabited and controlled the area. Rubble littered the ground, the stone and concrete forming a cover that resembled enlarged gravel more than the remains of a city.
The immense area was silent. Besides the rare fluttering of a bird resting on stone, I heard nothing.

After walking for an hour my apprehension for Sydney was justified.
The inhumane growl of a Vamp made the hair on my arms stand on end.
Before I could turn, it had leapt onto my back. Claw like nails dug viciously into my skin. I heard a shriek from Audrey and knew she had been assaulted as well.
Reaching my hand back, I clasped the hair of the beast-like human and pulled him over my head. A howl of pain escaped him as I whipped out my crude knife.
I turned to face Audrey and witnessed a blonde woman with teeth bared racing towards her. I pulled Audrey from behind and used my knife a second time.
The vampiric woman continued to attack me, a feral look of hunger desperate in her eyes.
Again the knife twisted, and she fell writhing to the earth.


Audrey lifted herself from the ground, sweat dripping down her forehead. Nursing the bite marks, she lifted her chin proudly and demanded we keep going.
“Thank you?” I questioned her.
“Yeah.” She answered.
I sighed.

We passed through Sydney virtually undisturbed after that. Vamps generally formed groups, and learnt quickly.
They weren’t regarded as part of the human race once they started feeding. Cannibals had no humanity.
In killing them, I was afraid of losing mine.

On the outskirts of the city I sat on a boulder and put my head into my blistered hands. I felt Audrey’s gaze upon me, and didn’t look up to acknowledge it. Rather than the chastising I felt I was sure to hear, she put her hand on my shoulder.
“We can’t rest long.”
I inhaled deeply.
“I don’t know if I can keep this up.”
“Please, Sean, don’t leave.”
“Not you, not this,” I gestured around me. “I mean everything.”
I felt the searing pain in my throat flare from using effort to speak louder.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean surviving. It’s not living, it’s an effort. Every breath tires me; every moment is pressure on my lungs and throat. Do we even have the water to make it? Have you thought of that?”
“Come on, please. We can make it.”
“I don’t know.” Tears slid down my cheeks, another waste of the most precious thing I had.
I lifted my finger and wiped the tear from my face, letting it touch my tongue.
My body screamed for more.
Audrey’s slender finger wiped my cheek, and surveying me cautiously, she did the same.
I saw her wince; she was feeling what I was.
In the sudden realisation that I was not alone in experiencing this hell, I succumbed.
“Okay.”
She nodded.
“The sparrow.” She said quietly, and motioned for me to follow the small bird
with her. “South.” She murmured later.

We walked for days. Soon it felt time was not measured in hours, but by each rasping breath that escaped our lips. The further south we travelled, the more birds we spotted
They perched on their boulders, rubble and skeletal trees, beady eyes surveying us; they were winged guards on the road to hope.

Vamps lurked in the night, their carnivorous souls desperate for one of us to weaken in our resolve or physical capacity. Cannibalism had made them sick with disease, resulting in them being dangerously desperate, but not strong.

Audrey quickly became weaker; her eyes developed deep bruise-like marks beneath them. Her lips and face were cracked. Her skin had deep scars along it, the sun like an incisor on her body.
I found myself praying, substituting fact for religion for the first time in years.
I wanted her to make it.

After months had passed we came to an open plain. For hundreds of kilometres,
to the horizon, there was nothing.
The birds were congregated in a circle, each one moving slowly into the middle of
the circle and disappearing from sight.
Audrey collapsed to the ground, exhaling loudly. The rasping noises vibrated through her chest.
She closed her eyes, that soft smile playing on her lips.
“We’re here,” she said, her parched throat making her words rasped and almost
incomprehensible.

“We’re here.” I agreed.

I lifted her body, feeling for the first time the ribs that were close to piercing
through her skin. She was skinny. She was sick.
A death sentence.
“Audrey” I whispered.
“Don’t worry,” she muttered “just let me down.”
I gripped her body a little tighter. She was heavy to my frail arms, but I would not let her go.
“We’ve come too far Audrey.”
“I know.” She whispered feebly.

I walked slowly to the immense circle of birds, watching them sink slowly into the little hole in the centre of the circle. Whilst they didn’t soar back out, I assumed there was a place they escaped out from the underground cavern from.

The silent birds were careful to allow only one into the circle at once, and it occurred to me that the ground must be incredibly fragile.

“Audrey”
She stirred. I hadn’t been aware she was asleep. She was fading.
I put her softly on the ground, and felt around in my bag for some remaining water. 20mLs.
I hoped it would be enough.
I wet her lips with the fluid, and then poured the rest down her throat.
“Audrey, stay with me.”
She opened her eyes.
“It’s been too long, Sean.”
“No.” I whispered.
“It wasn’t enough.”
She closed her eyes.

Tears fell down my cheeks, and I wiped them away, painting them onto her lips.
Nothing could be wasted.

I crawled slowly across the circle, reaching my hand down the hole. The earth beneath me began to crack, the creaks and groans guaranteeing that I would collapse.

A cacophony of squawks and shrieks filled the air as I landed ten feet beneath the surface. Birds in vibrant colours and species filled the cavern, many soaring downwards into a lower cavern.

The filtered light came in through various holes in the roof of the cavern, shining onto a smooth, wet surface.
Water.
I stumbled forward, my knees scraping the hard floor of the cavern. I threw my head into the water, drenching my hair and skin.
The searing ache in my throat stopped for the first time since my birth.
I closed my eyes and let the dust and blood that had cocooned me for years be washed away in instants.
How liberated I was!
How alone.

Immediately I remembered where I was, and who I was without.
How was I to continue from here?
We made no plans as what to do if we found the water.
Now this abundant, beautiful liquid – a possible saviour – was completely impossible to deliver in masses. It was inconceivable for me to travel back to Sydney.

I wanted to stay.
I needed to stay.

But remaining away entirely from civilisation would result in my death, and of countless other humans. If I could prolong the nomads’, such as myself, lives’ then surely I will have achieved something.
To bring some meaning to a desolate world, will have to sear my name into the history books – and perhaps, in prolonging the inevitable, I could grant time.
And time was just as crucial to survival as hope.

I pulled the water bottles from Audrey’s bag, and filled both mine and hers with water from the subterranean cavern.
Placing them carefully in my satchel, I lifted Audrey’s frail body into the cavern and rested her beside the water.
Her beautiful, scarred body was dry and rigid against the smooth surface of the water.

Clambering out from the cavern once again, I tried to memorise the features of the plain, the cavern, and the birds – and turned my back on it all.

Once again, the world was silent around me.