The Capital - Part III

The full moon and clear sky gave Madeline a fair amount of light as she started to make her trek across the National Mall. She could feel the cold breeze blow across her face as she jogged carefully through the heavy ruins. It was important that she put as much distance between herself and Moriston as she could before the sun rose and the search parties began to look for her. If there was anything Mimi had been correct about was that her parents would most certainly put forth an arduous effort to find her.

Most of the once proud D.C. Mall lay in ruins. Pockmarked with craters and destroyed buildings, the Mall was less than a shadow of its former glory.

As the capital of the Industrial States of America, Washington D.C. had been a priority target during the War. Because of that fact, many hostile nations had fired, not only anti-matter weaponry, but also conventional warheads in an attempt to annihilate the city and the nation’s government.

The city, for sure, was destroyed. Whether or not the government was, that was left completely up for speculation.

Madeline had made it all the way to the remains of the Washington Monument, which had miraculously stayed upright after nearly a century of neglect. The marble that once coated the exterior of the gigantic obelisk was worn and dirty, turning the once proud creme-colored monument to a dismal dark gray. However, it was the tallest remaining structure in the D.C. ruins and it was from here that she would scout out her next move.

Sliding both her arms through the shoulder straps of her backpack and toting her shotgun by its carrying handle, Madeline began the task of climbing up the stairs to the top. Despite having climbed up and down this staircase over the years, it was a much more difficult task when carrying several dozen pounds of equipment. At least she’d be giving her legs a good workout.

The top of the once proud monument had been blown off during the war, leaving a very open vantage point that overlooked the entirety of D.C. The city was hit hard leaving much of its structures and interior motorways destroyed. To the west, Madeline could barely make out the silhouette of a relatively untouched causeway. She decided that it would be her best bet in eventually making her way north to Minnesota.

She looked down at her watch to see she only had a few hours to move before Moriston started to stir and people would notice that the founding family’s daughter was missing. Making note of which direction she needed to go, Madeline gathered her materials and started to make her way back down to the streets.

By the time the sun began to peek over the horizon, Madeline had made great progress. From her start several blocks East of the Capitol building she had managed to cross the Potomac into Arlington.

From there, her plan was to head to Centreville, the farthest any scavenger from Moriston is advised to go. Once she made it past Centreville, she’d find the best way onto Highway 66 and begin heading west. Once she got onto the highway, she’d be home free. No one from Moriston would be willing to travel out that far.

That’s if she knew them as well as she thought she did.

Madeline passed the Arlington cemetery before deciding to take short pause to rest. Taking cover in a small street cafe, she looked towards the horizon to see the first rays of sunshine.

It would take some time for the citizens of Moriston to stir, and perhaps even longer for people to realize that she was missing. Madeline took to being extremely independent, even among her elders, so it was not uncommon to find her bed empty early in the morning. Until lunch time rolled around, her absence would not be greatly noticed.

D.C. had seemed so much larger and more intimidating when she was younger, traveling out into the wastes with her father and the scavenging parties. She couldn’t help but notice, now, that nothing is ever as big as it seems.

In between her thumb and forefinger, Madeline had a piece of hardtack that she was gently nibbling on, the map unfolded on an upright table.

Over the years, she had studied that map again and again, memorizing every detail from the capital of the former states, to the smallest towns that she would pass through on her journey. It was almost unfathomable that there used to be million and billions of people who lived on the planet and that most people would meet nearly 100,000 people their entire lifetime.

Madeline had met only a few dozen people her entire life, and she felt like those were the only people she would meet if she had stayed in Moriston. She hoped that there were more people in the world, and that she would get a chance to meet them as she journeyed northward.

The sun was peeking over the D.C. skyline when she decided it was time to pack up her things and start moving again. It wouldn’t be long before the search parties started to come up quickly behind her.

The eighteen year-old grabbed what belongings she had and started into a slight jog. With the sun slowly rising in the sky, the temperature grew steadily warmer. It wasn’t until Madeline could distinctly feel sweat forming underneath her hat and brow did she decided to slow down to a steady, but brisk, walk.

From where she stood, at the cusp of a hill on the very edge of Washington D.C., the famous monuments that she had been raised around grew small. She was standing at the farthest point anyone from Moriston had ever dared to journey. Madeline looked towards home, and then turned to the opposite direction: an endless, undiscovered, unexplored horizon.

Taking a deep breath and adjusting her bag so that it sat comfortably on her back, the young explorer continued forward.

If someone had asked her if she was nervous, Madeline would’ve answered honestly. She most definitely was. Despite her open-mind, spirit, and what some would call bravado, she was a bit scared too. No one knew what lay beyond the ruins, and if anyone did they refused to mention it.

It was alright to be afraid, but the prospect of adventure far outweighed her fear. Even if that shelter in Minnesota didn’t exist, getting there would be an accomplishment in and of itself.

If her mother were here, she would call it fantasizing. And it would have definitely been hard to argue.

Moriston, however, wasn’t enough for her anymore. The routine schedule and the life of constant repetition. Getting up, eating breakfast, going out on a scavenging party, eating lunch, scavenging again, the dinner, and finally bet. There was nothing there for her anymore.

But she would return.

And when she did, she would show them that there was more to the world then just that dreary little subway station.