Tristan Harlow:
The outside is the same as I remember it. The sky is dark red, with massive black clouds. Hiding behind the clouds is the sun, though it's hardly much more than just a pale yellow circle.
Looking around, I see nothing more than miles and miles of a barren wasteland, littered with signs of what the planet used to be like. There are rusted cars everywhere, anything even remotely useful was taken long ago. Fallen logs and twigs cover most of the bare dirt. The roads themselves can hardly be called roads anymore as most of them are gone, leaving giant gaps.
"This is the outside," the package asks, shielding her eyes as she looks at the sky. "Where's the sun?"
"It's behind the clouds of poison," I say, pulling Rebecca up and out before putting the sewer cover back.
"Oh."
"Shit," Rebecca says, turning around. "It has been a while since I was up here. Why the hell is the sky red?"
"It's the fumes from the chimeras' spaceships. For the last 20 years, they've been leaking some toxic fumes. Why do you think we need these?"
I tap the glass of my face mask, Rebecca replying with her middle finger.
"So which way is Connecticut," the package asks.
"It's this way."
I nudge my head toward a lineup of stripped cars and vans.
"How can you possibly know that," Rebecca asks, still looking around. "Everywhere looks the same."
"This is the road to Boston. It's the road I took to get here from the city. From Boston, I can get a better sense of directions. Figure out which way New Haven is."
"You're the boss I guess," the package says, walking toward the lineup.
"Damn right, I'm the boss," I say, grabbing and pulling the package back. Ignoring her as she yells 'Hey', I go on. "And as the boss, you two will do exactly as I said. Got it. This isn't the bunker. This is hell. Literally hell."
We reach the road in a few minutes and start walking through the lines of rusted vehicles.
"Everything out here can and will try to kill you."
"What is out here exactly," Rebecca asks, looking to her right and left.
"Bad stuff," I reply, hearing something. Not wasting a second, I run to the package and Rebecca and push them down. Despite their struggling, I throw my entire weight onto the two and force them down.
"Shut up," I whisper, reaching for my gun. As the three of us hide behind a small car, I peek over. With my finger on the trigger, I scan the area.
The wind picks up while I scan the area, and I see the source of the noise. It's a hanging side mirror, banging against the car door.
"False alarm," I say, getting up. "Just a piece of junk."
"Thanks for that," the package says, dusting herself off after getting back on her feet. "Fatass."
Raising my hand, I'm about to hit the stupid package, but Rebecca stops me.
"No," she says to me before to the package. "No. Just, calm down, the both of you."
"Being calm here will kill you," I reply, eyeing the package. "You need to always be on guard. Whether it's a piece of hanging junk or something worse."
I shake my head as I look up. The sun isn't too high in the sky.
"Come on," I say, waving my hand. "We don't have long."
"Long until what?"
"Until the sunset. Judging by where the sun is right now, we only have a few hours left until dark. And once it's become dark, it's a whole other world."
I scan the area again, ensuring we are alone and that there is nothing hiding or hunting.
"Okay," I say, sprinting a little now. "Listen to me and listen to me now. If we're really going to keep going, then here are some ground rules. Rule 1, listen to me exactly. I don't care how crazy I may sound, or how much you don't want to do it, just do it. Rule 2, don't make any loud sounds. You never want to draw any extra attention when out here. Rule 3, we do not use guns unless there are no other options."
I eye the package, remembering through blurs that Rebecca gave her a gun.
"Rule 4, we never ever, under any circumstances, be outside when it is nighttime."
Looking up again, I see the sun has moved.
"Come on, Boston isn't too far now. We can find shelters there."
Following the reminders of the road, we stay low, always hiding behind cars, but still sprinting until eventually, we see the city within sight.
"Boston, Massachusetts," the package asks.
"Yup," Rebecca answers, "Home sweet home."
"At least parts of your home are still standing," I say, looking up at the towering skyscrapers. Surprisingly, despite everything that had happened, 20 years of wind, rain, and aliens, a lot of the buildings are still standing. As the three of us walk into the city, the sun is setting. The whole circle falls to the ground, the only things left are some very fading rays.
Ducking behind a corner, I peek around to make sure the coast is clear.
"Rebecca," I whisper, still focused on the empty streets in front. "You lived here, right? Is there anywhere we can camp for the night? Anywhere near here that is secure?"
"Let me think," Rebecca replies. "Let me think. It had been a while since I was last here."
Having to wait about a minute or so, Rebecca snaps her fingers.
"I know a place. Fenway Park."
"Fenway Park," the package repeats. "Isn't that a famous baseball stadium?"
"How the hell do you know that," I ask.
"A few of the rebels like to talk about their old lives. What they did before the invasion started. A lot of them talked about baseball and how they would go to Fenway Park. Though, I'm still not sure what a tailgate is."
"I'll tell you later," Rebecca promises. "For now, I think Fenway Park is our best bet. It's not too far from where we are now and when the chimeras first came, the military turned the entire stadium into a sort of shelter."
"Okay," I say, "Fenway Park it is. Which way?"
"It's this way."
Rebecca taking the lead, leads us under a toppled building, past dozens of destroyed houses, through the remainder of a fallen church, all the way to a massive brick building.
"Fenway Park," I ask.
"Fenway Park," Rebecca says.