2034 by Nick DiChario

Author:Nick DiChario
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: dystopia, postapocalyptic, rochester ny, western new york, dystopian fiction, bicentennial, lilac festival
Publisher: R-SPEC Press

DYLAN AND THE NAKED GIRL, January 1, 2034:

Okay, I’m over Faye. Like a lead weight just dropped outta my heart. They shut down the airports, and she left on the last plane the day after Christmas. In- or Out-World, no one’s heard from her since, ’cept it got out she was fired. She took my book with her, too. I didn’t say goodbye. Dad’s in the hospital, quarantined.

I’m running with the naked girl through Durand Park towards the lake. The snow glitters down with the wind, there’s huge drifts under the shaggy trees and the moon overhead. She took off her pants. She’s gonna die. He might, too. Her hands, feet, nose and ass are already red with frostbite. She’s straining to breathe. Our breath makes cold vapor. “What are you running away from?”

“‘They flee from me that sometime did me seek.’”

“Who are you? Are you an avatar? Am I in our cad still?”

“‘I am the grass, I cover all.’”

“Am I sick? Why’m I chasing you?”

I’m hot and I can’t feel my hands. My pros legs are beginning to falter. No sense of pressure. And I think how even the virus is running from something, shedding costumes and putting on others and always staying a little ahead of us. I’m pulling Rochester behind me like a wedge of shadows developing magnitude. It’s slowing me down. I miss you, Faye. Show me Phoenix, and rise up, my little bird!

The naked girl says, “‘I will follow the right side even to the fire, but avoiding the fire if I can.’”

Distant crackling. Then closer booms. I think of the earthquake. No! Fireworks! It’s New Years! It’s 2034! The marvels of the future waiting to be unfolded in the real cad. Crackle! Boom! Crackle! Pink, green, bright loud stars!

“Are you the corona? Or the carrier?”

“‘I own only what I can carry with me.’”

“Can you help my Dad?”

She shakes her head. To his credit, he put his arm around me before when I cried and told me Faye wasn’t worthy of me.

“Then a message to a woman named Faye? No one can get in touch with her.”

“I am not going in that direction.”

“Where are you going?”

“Into the future.”

“Aren’t we all?”

“I am not going into your future. I am going into mine. Do you want to join me?”

We cross Lakeshore Blvd and we’re at the icy beach. The naked girl turns around, jogging in place, and looks at me finally. Her hair and face and skin is thick with a veil of frost. When I hesitate, she nods, like to say goodbye.

“Stay away from Mandy!” I’m panting and holding my knees.

She smiles, turns and runs out onto Lake Ontario, and I don’t follow her. I stay on the snow and watch her run and run until she sinks, way off in the dark. I won’t go there. I won’t.

I can feel my hands. I can feel the gorgeous hurting life rising up in me. There’s a car. It’s slowing down. I want to be carried home.

“Help me!” I’m shouting loud.

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