The Box
She peered at the scrap of flat metal buried in the cave floor. Using the side of her boot, she scraped away the dirt to reveal a small box, covered with scrapes and dents from a lifetime of use. Squatting down, she looked around the small cavern, the light quickly fading as the sun outside started it’s descent behind the Red Mountains. There were no signs that anyone had been in the cave for some time, no useless scraps so common where wanderers camped, no footprints, no smells that humans leave behind. Now, everything that could be used, was used. And used again. Nothing was wasted in this world anymore, not after the Event.
Pulling out her ghillie knife, she pried around the edges of the box, slowly extracting it from the packed earth. Walking over to the cave entrance to use the last available light, she sat down with her back against the rocky wall, where she could observe the outside, ever aware of the dangers that came with the night in the wasteland she called home.
Turning her attention again to the box, she turned it over in her hands, wondering what it contained, what mysteries were so valuable that someone would hide it out here in The Desolation, at least a day’s walk from any settlement. It wasn’t big enough or heavy enough to contain food, at least not much. Perhaps it had a tool, a better knife than she carried, or something she could trade if she ever made it back to New Frontera.
Running her finger cautiously along the front seam, where the lid formed a near perfect meld with the front side of the box, she studied the rusted lock. If she used brute force to open it, would she be able to close it somehow, to use it again? The dwindling light forced her to make a decision, and Now won over Later, guiding her hand to hammer the lock with the butt of her knife, crushing the brittle metal cylinder, and destroying any hope of securing the box closed again.
Opening the lid, her eyes narrowed as assessed the contents in mere seconds, seeing loose papers, some pictures, and a sealed small metal tin of food. Immediately, her hand flew to the tin, as she lifted it, her face instantly registered disappointment, as it weighed next to nothing. Quizzically, she turned the tin over, and saw where it had been punctured long ago, leaking out its contents and leaving only the wisp of some strange odor and discoloring the papers around it with faded brown splotches and plastering some of them together with a dried residue.
She stared at the contents, her curiosity turning to disbelief, then anger. Why would anyone hide a bunch of papers way out here! And what idiot would haul around anything that wasn’t food, water or something else useful? As she slumped back against the rock wall, she breathed out a sigh of primal disappointment. She willed herself to think, calculating her next move, mentally walking through the next few hours and what she would need to do to survive another night.
At least she could use the papers, she thought, and start a small fire inside the cave to stay warm. Now that winter was coming, shelter provided more than just safety from walking dangers, and if she kept the fire low and close to the back cave wall where it curved to the right, no one would be able to see the light from the fire. Opening her eyes, she looked again in the box, and saw faded receipts, and airline tickets, and other scraps of someone’s life, some poor schmuck who carted these around when he or she should have been concentrating on finding food and water. As she riffled through the papers, she found several crumpled twenty dollar bills, another testament to someone who held onto things that had no use. What did they think they could buy these days when everything was bartered, or just taken by force?
Picking up one of the pictures, she saw a man and woman at the ocean, heads close together, in what people used to call a ‘selfie’ back when there were still phones and cell towers that worked. And electricity! She tilted her head and studied the picture of the couple. The woman smiled directly at the camera, her eyes and smile happy, her look one of knowing, and of mystery. The man looked slightly to the left, as if he was looking off camera, across the woman, his face outwardly carefree, but eyes had a quizzical look, as if there was some puzzle he was trying to solve.
Which one of them did the box belong to, she thought, and what was their story? Leaning her head back against the rock surface, she let her mind drift, closing her eyes and remembering how life was before everything happened. It was getting harder to remember daily life back then, of houses and restaurants, and stores that had food in them. Refrigerated food, and microwaves and water that came out of a tap! And showers! Her mind drifted and she relaxed, her thoughts turning to vacation, the simple weekend getaways with her boyfriend, luxurious beds and couples massages, and relaxing in the hot tub.
Whick! Suddenly, her eyes flew open, scanning across the desert floor, looking for the source of the sound, for what her senses told her was out there. Silently, she lowered the box to the ground, and forced herself to breathe slowly as she scrutinized her field of view, waiting for any movement, any sound that would show her what danger was nearby. The minutes passed, and turned into hours, as she remained still, having learned in the game of life that she played daily, patience and quickness shared equal footing.
As time passed, darkness approached and the temperature dropped. As the cold slowly permeated her clothes, her senses dulled as her body started to shiver. Slowly flexing her legs, her body sore from sitting too long, she slowly leaned to her left, lowering her torso to the ground, so that she could minimize her outline and crawl deeper into the cave. Timing her movements with each gust of wind, cloaking her sounds with that of nature, she moved into the cavern, finally reaching a point where she felt that she was safe enough to stand up. Going by touch, she explored the area around her, finding smooth rock walls and low ceilings, and, to her chagrin, confirming there was but one way in or out.
As her eyes acclimated and her hearing adjusted to the silence of the cave, she heard sounds outside. Voices, no longer human, and a scattering of small rocks tumbling above the entrance. She gripped her knife tightly and pressed her back into the cave, hoping unrealistically that they would pass on, that she wouldn’t become what so many others had, that she would survive another night. Outlines appeared in the cave entrance, first one, then two, then more than she could identify, and as she sunk down against the back wall, she realized that this was how it ended, and no one would ever find a box with her memories.