March 2nd. The day that marked year 100 after the world ended. Though, technically, it hadn’t really ended. The world still spun on its axis, life still thrived. Even a sizable population of humans still existed, now scattered across self-sustaining colonies.
But they found it more sensational to call it the "end”.
Of course, nobody celebrated the anniversary of the apocalypse. There were barely any people left who’d even lived through it. But talk of it still buzzed about every year. People wondered what life had been like before the Great Collapse. Before pollution choked the skies, suffocated the crops—the lungs of the earth—and pitted humanity against itself. Before the disease, the hunger, and the Wilderness took over. What things were like: the cities at their prime. Ease of access to resources. Mass production. Burgers. They’d wonder aloud amongst themselves, fantasized even, but when the day ended, so did their intrigue, and things proceeded as normal—the new normal.
But to the Madden family, this date marked a different day entirely.
It marked the day the eldest son died.
Camdyn, the son who remained, had grown to hate that day. It was a constant reminder of his own shortcomings. And standing there two years later, he found that the same guilt weighed just as heavily upon his shoulders. His fingers tightened around the flower he held.
A tombstone stood a few feet away with the name Roenen Madden etched into the cold stone. All that was left of him. Camdyn felt a hand come to a rest on his shoulder. His eyes met Azaraya’s, and he placed a hand over hers. His mother joined them moments later and took up the other space beside him. For a moment, he waited in expectation of his father, but he never showed.
“My sweet boy…” Elowyn whispered, gazing upon her son’s grave. Camdyn wrapped an arm around her as she choked back tears. He, too, struggled to keep it together.
Azaraya finally broke the silence, “I feel like we should say something.”
“I think that would be good,” Camdyn agreed quietly.
She nodded, taking in a shaky breath before placing a flower where he lay. “We always said that we'd love each other till the day we died. I guess you kept your end of the deal,” her laugh was teary and hollow, “You still are the love of my life, Roenen, and your death took a piece of my soul with it… a piece of everyone's…You were a wonderful husband, son, and brother. And you have and would have done great things for this colony and its people. May you rest in peace.”
“May you rest in peace,” they echoed in unison.
Elowyn shakily pressed her lips to the petals before placing her flower on the grave. And Camdyn, after a moment of lingering, laid his on the ground as well.
"I'm gonna walk her home, Raya. After that, you wanna have a drink?"
Her tired face lifted at the idea. "You're on, Cam."
Once they reached the door, Elowyn hesitated. "You'd think things like this would get easier with time…"
Camdyn knew there was a long road ahead of them, but he decided not to touch on that. Instead, he squeezed her hand and looked into her glistening amber eyes.
"It will, Mom. Maybe not today. But one day, it will get easier. I promise we're gonna get through this."
She placed a hand on his cheek and caressed the edges with her thumb.
"You should get going. Don't keep Raya waiting," she spoke softly.
He nodded, offering up a small smile that held until the door shut firmly behind her.
He stared at its wood, feeling his throat tighten and the burn build behind his eyes. His knuckles turned white.
It’ll get easier.
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His own words echoing but not taking root. He stood there a moment longer, guilt settling in his chest, before he forced himself to move.
One breath in. One breath out.
He walked past the edge of their lot to the place where he knew Azaraya would be. She sat amongst the rubble in the familiar bed of an old pickup, surrounded by remnants from the Old World, now overgrown by foliage: an overturned car here, the crumbling foundation of a building over there, and litter scattered all around the weeds.
She still wore that old, weathered flannel–Roenen's flannel–but now knotted just above the navel for a personal touch. It suited her anyhow, matched the whole rugged, outdoorsy persona she’d built for herself: calloused fingers, bronzed skin, and that no-nonsense stare behind sable eyes. He remembered the first time she cut her hair, too; it was years ago. She had said it got in the way, so she chopped it off, and ever since then, she kept her dark hair short.
“It’s about time!” she greeted him as he stepped into view.
Camdyn smiled back, joining her in the truck. It dipped under the added weight, rusted mechanics groaning in protest.
“You got the stuff?”
“Of course.” She flashed him the glass bottle, its golden hue catching the fading sunlight. At some point, it may have held finer liquor; now, it stored whatever was left around for fermenting. She poured him a cup and topped off her own.
Camdyn didn’t particularly like drinking, but Raya did, and if that’s what it took to be there for her, then he could stomach alcohol. He raised the cup to his lips and took a sip. The liquid burned down his throat, foul and putrid. He coughed, choking on the taste.
Raya leaned back against the cab, propping herself up on her elbows. Her gaze drifted to the horizon as the sun began its slow descent, casting the ruins in shades of gold and crimson. Camdyn settled beside her, his back against the truck, taking in the view. The silence between them was comfortable, but the weight of the world hung heavy.
They didn’t speak for a while, just watched the sky change.
“Do you think we deserved it?” she eventually asked, her voice quiet but curious.
“What?” he chuckled, “Like the world ending?”
“Yeah, like karma, or some kind of divine intervention by something that saw how far gone we’d gotten and was like ‘yikes, let’s just scrap it and start over?’”
Camdyn shifted, running a hand through his copper hair. He hadn’t expected that question, and for a moment, he wasn’t sure how to answer. “I don’t know… People like to say things happen for a reason, but... I’d like to think not.”
“Well, if we have history down right, then this all happened because of us.” she said, her tone thoughtful, “We set it all in motion: the overpopulation, the pollution, the wars… everything.”
“True, but to say that we deserved it would mean that our great-great-great grandmas were somehow complicit, and I don’t think that’s the case. Unless ole me-maw was some kind of warlord with insane political influence.”
She rolled her eyes, but a smile tugged at her lips, the humor in his words lightening the mood just enough.
He leaned back slightly, continuing his thought. “I just think that if a divine being were to exist, could it really condemn the entire species over the actions of a loud few? If the answer is yes, then what would stop it from doing it again?”
She took another swig of alcohol. “I guess nothing.”
“But to counter that… if this is all really just cause and effect—stupid people, doing stupid things—then we just have to make sure we’re not the stupid ones this time around. So rather than it being ‘divine consequence’, it’s more like a fresh slate. A second chance to do things better.” Camdyn took another sip and recoiled at the taste. It lingered on his tongue before he swallowed, forcing it down.
“You don’t have to drink that, you know.”
“What? This stuff?” he winced at the aftertaste. “ I love this stuff.”
She snorted. “You’re a terrible liar.” Then, without missing a beat, she downed the rest of his drink. Getting to her feet, she added, “I hear you’ve got a long day tomorrow. Walker tells me he’s taking you to the Perimeter.”
Camdyn too got up, following her off the truck and down the path.
“Yeah…” he shoved his hands into his pockets. “I think I might call out sick.”
She rolled her eyes again. “Come on, Cam. It might be good for you, you know. Stepping out of your shell. Getting some tan in your pallor.”
“Well, I don’t tan, I burn–”
“Regardless,” she cut in, “I think you should do it.”
“Yeah, yeah. We’ll see.”
They paused when they reached a fork in their path and exchanged goodnights. Camdyn watched for a little longer as Raya disappeared around the corner. He then turned, walking the quiet road home.
