Radioactive

The dull light of morning crept through the broken blinds and into the messy, old apartment. The sounds of the offkey sirens from the Greats cars were blaring. Though they were loud and obnoxious, they were blocks away. The air was always eerily still. Dust hung in the air of the apartment, making it difficult to see properly without an attempt of swatting the dust particles away with your hand.

A woman lay on the old, ragged mattress, her knotted, brown locks fanned around her sleeping face which was half covered in a gas mask. She snored lightly and her limbs were spread out, covering most of the bed. The blanket that once covered her body was pushed to the foot of the mattress, half on the filthy ground. A dog lay curled beside the woman; she was an older dog. Her once light brown and white fur was now littered with silver. The dog’s tail began to wag as she heard the door open and shut. Thunking footsteps started to grow louder.

“Wake up,” a man’s voice said as his foot kicked the mattress with a dirty boot. The woman didn’t stir.

“Rosalie, c’mon, before the water gets cold,” the voice said again, poking the young woman in the ribs. With a snort, the woman opened her forest green eyes and furrowed her eyebrows.

“C’mon, Dad,” She groaned, rubbing her side, “Why’d you have to poke me there?”

“Sorry; I forgot,” Her father, Daniel, grunted, a smirk hid behind his gas mask.

“Yeah right, old man,” The woman said, sitting up reaching out for the bucket and rag in the man’s outstretched hand.

Rosalie dunked the rag in the slightly soapy, lukewarm water and rubbed her arms and legs, and then her underarms and neck. She took a deep breath before she pulled her gas mask off and rubbed her face. Quickly slipping her mask back on, she let out a deep exhale. After tossing the rag back into the bucket, she stood up and wiggled into her ripped dark jeans. Rosalie pulled on her old, leather jacket. She stalked over to the window and peered through the old blinds.

The perpetually grey sky was filled with clouds that hung low over the ruins of the city. What was once Downtown Chicago, Illinois, was now nothing but a few run down buildings, rubble and destroyed cars flooded the crumbling streets. From where Rosalie stood, there was no store in sight, even though she knew there was still running convenience store two blocks over.
A group of young adults were seen rummaging through an old suitcase that they found under a mass of rubble. This was common for most people in their district. The sound of a helicopter flying overhead was heard, but because the smog was so thick, one could barely make out the lights blinking above them .
“You ready, kiddo?” Daniel said, putting a hand on Rosalie’s shoulder.

Rosalie nodded, she turned and patted her thigh, “Let’s go, Dot.”

The dog, Dot, looked up from drinking the soapy water and trotted over and licked her palm. Rosalie chuckled and patted the old Shetland Shepard on the top of her head. The woman grabbed her backpack and flung it over her shoulder and slipped into her worn out boots. Daniel grabbed the bucket with the rag inside and tied it to the backpack. The three of them walked to the door that barely hung on its old, rusted hinges. Daniel swung the door open and waited for Rosalie and Dot to walk through before soon following them. They carefully made their way down the slowly crumbling stairs and made it outside.

“Careful,” Daniel warned as they started climbing through the streets as they trekked to The Hall.

“Dad, I’m 24, not four,” She said, jumping up on a rather large piece of what once was a building. As she said this, she lost her footing and tripped. Daniel reached out and grabbed her falling daughter.

“Well you certainly listen like you’re a four-year-old,” Daniel chuckled. He then looked down at his daughter’s knee, “Are you okay, Rose?”

“I’m fine,” Rosalie waved him off and brushed off the dust on her pants, “Let’s keep going.”

“You’re a tough one. Just like your mother,” Daniel stated.

Rosalie winced, “Dad, we agreed not to talk about Mom.”

Daniel’s heart sank, “Right. Sorry.”

“It’s just that. . . You know. She just kinda left us,” Rosalie shrugged.

“You know it wasn’t that simple, Rose-”

“Dad. Just. . . Stop.”

They continued on their journey in silence. Rosalie rarely talked about her mother, Marlee. She left her husband and daughter when the Invasion happened, and had Daniel and Rosalie live in dangerous circumstances for the past 20 years. So to say Rosalie was bitter about the situation would be an understatement.
They travelled about a mile more before they ran into the hustle and bustle of The Market, which was right outside of The Hall. People were everywhere. Everyone covered in masks and protective gear. Merchants and buyers filled the streets. People would trade the shirt off their back just to get an apple or two. Money was scarce and people were desperate. There was, in fact, a time where someone wanted to trade Daniel some bread for Dot.

“Alright, you wanna stop and buy something?” Daniel asked, turning to Rosalie.

She shook her head, “I’m just hungry. The Hall will get us some and then we can go.”

Daniel shrugged and nodded in agreement and they made their way into The Hall.