Harry watched the apartments to the west, hoping he would see nothing. As he did so the platoon command team studied the map to figure out what went wrong. So far they had concluded that they were somehow further east than they liked, or the city ruins snaked further east than the map had marked.

The platoon command team identified landmarks to find their position. The lieutenant found a road map of the city from about 150 years ago when an exploration team was searching for food and ammunition. Harry’s squad was ordered to exit the parking lot and find a street sign so they could find where they were. While they were doing that a second squad searched the apartments for anything useful.

Harry picked his way across the parking lot, he and his squad carefully moving from car to car in groups. Harry and Gerald in one, Thompson, Thomas, and Theodore in the other. One team would provide cover fire while the other advanced. Given the lack of enemies at the time, it was just watching an empty parking lot.

Three minutes later they reached the drive way. The drive way ran beside the northern building, emerging onto the street on the other side. Stopping before the driveway Harry looked for any signs indicating what road it led off.

“You guys see anything?” He asked.

“There is an old post here, but the sign is broken off. It might be on the ground near here.” Gerald replied.

They searched the ground, pulling weeds off the craggily pavement. Harry found a rotting wooden toy, but no sign. Gerald found a rusty knife, and nothing else. Contacting Watson, Harry told them that there were not any identifiers inside the apartment ring. After a moment Watson’s fire team made their way to his, after informing the lieutenant that they would have to exit the apartments to look for landmarks.

On the street the squad fanned out. Scanning the street, they looked for any locations a street sign might be. More rusted cars littered the road. The occasional mutated animal scuttled across it, not wanting to be in the open for more than a moment. About forty meters to the north of the driveway was an intersection.

Across the intersection lay the rusted remains of a fire engine, with the collapsed traffic lights draped over it. The ancient fire engine had no windshields or doors intact, and it’s cab was crushed by a concrete facade that tumbled from an old building. The The building the façade had fallen from was scorched and charred, a fire having rampaged through it.

Leap frogging from cover to cover Harry’s squad approached the interception. Closer inspection of the fire cab showed three firefighter skeletons in tattered bunker gear and oxygen masks. Their helmets were ripped apart, and one had chunks of it’s skull missing.

“Shit, looks like these poor guys got absolutely eaten up.” Commented Thompson, glancing at the corpses. “I wonder if any of their protective gear would still work.”

“No, it wouldn’t. It’s been two hundred years in the elements. I’m surprised they are even still intact.” Gerald replied, as he had been a firefighter before enlisting in the Nevexico Army. Walking to the rear of the engine he climbed a ladder to the top, looking for a street sign. Harry followed him up, while Watson’s fire team searched the ground around the wrecked truck for a sign.

Crawling over warped and rusted poles, Harry’s vision swept the fire engine’s roof. Ahead of him Gerald did the same, bending over and moving debris in his search. Harry saw a flash of green below rebar and concrete, and used his foot to slide it off. He reached down and picked it up, a almost illegible green sign reading “Rocky Avenue”. Grabbing his radio he reported his reply.

“Sergeant I found a sign, it says one of these streets are Rocky Ave.”

“Alright, now we just need to figure out which street that is.” Watson replied, continuing to search the ground.

Harry then heard the screech of metal collapsing, and straightened fast hw lost his balance and ended up on his buttocks. Clambering back to his feet he quickly turned in a circle, trying to find the source of the noise. While he did that the Sergeant spoke over the radio.

“Everybody check in. Check in now!”

“Thomas here.”

“Thompson breathing.”

“Harry here.”

“…” Silence followed when Gerald should have reported, filling Harry with worry.

“Gerald, report.” A hint of concern crept into Watson’s voice.

Harry was now carefully walking towards where he last saw his squad mate. He slowly maneuvered over concrete and steel, every spot carefully scanned for Gerald. Reaching the center of the engine’s roof he found a gapping hole. Next to it lay Geralds radio. Harry reported it, and not waiting for a response shined a flashlight into the whole. It was a tank of water, it’s contents stagnant and brimming with algae, and in it Gerald stood, patting himself down and looking around.

“Gerald, you good down there?” Harry called, trepidation in his voice.

“Yeah, I’m good. Lost my radio though. The strap is torn.” Gerald replied, not sounding too converted.

“It’s up here, must’ve caught on something as you fell.”

“Could you toss it to me?”

“Yeah.” With that conversation over Harry tossed down the radio, it’s fall terminating in the hand’s of Gerald. Gerald then recounted the last few minutes to the Sergeant. Sergeant Watson was glad that Gerald wasn’t injured, and reported what happened to LT Yorkshire. He also reported that one of the streets they were near was Rocky Avenue.

While the LT made use of the information Harry and his squad searched for a way to get Gerald out of the water tank. Harry searched the top off the engine, hopeful a length of hose or of hose or rope somehow survived two centuries. Along the top of the engine he only found rubble and metal. Climbing down the ladder bolted onto the rear of the engine he began wrenching random compartments open. While he was hurriedly searching for rope or hose he came across various breaching gear, but nothing with the reach to pull out Gerald.

“Gerald, I’m not finding anything, shouldn’t they have rope or hose somewhere?” Harry asked.

“Yes, but given we don’t use engines anymore, just the emergency boxes scattered around the cities I have no idea where it would be. Try checking next to the corpses.” Gerald replied calmly.

Thompson checked in the general vicinity of the firemen’s remains, but found nothing. They must have been killed before unloading their gear. Continuing to open random compartments Harry eventually found a section of polymer rope. Pulling a coil out that looked to be in good shape and able to support Gerald’s body weight and kit Harry walked back to the ladder. He threw the rope over his shoulder and climbed up, Thomas close behind. Watson and Thompson kept watch below.

Reaching the hole Harry tossed one end down, while he and Thomas anchored the other. Had it not been for the lack of any goo floatations to tie it down, it would have been securely tied to something.. Spreading their legs they braced themselves and waited for Gerald to climb up the rope. The metal groaned ominously beneath them, but held steady.

Scrambling up to the metal gash Gerald began to pull himself up. As he did so the metal he was on began to bend and creak louder. Stress fractures began to show through the paint. Gerald immediately stopped moving, while Harry and Thomas slowly inched themselves to the other side of the hole.

On the other side of the hole Gerald once again tried to pull him self onto the roof. Once again the metal began to fold and buckle under his weight. He quickly descended to rope and stood again in the stagnant water. Harry stood silently hold the rope with Thomas thinking all the while.

After a moment of contemplation Gerald spoke up, “Alright, I have an idea. Pull the rope out, and coil it up. Never know when we’ll need it again. Once you’ve done that carefully push a chunk of concrete into the tank. I’ll use that to get up to the lip. While I do that you guys lay down and spread out, to pull me up.”

“Alright… uh, why would this work better than the rope?” Thomas asked.

“This should spread out your weight and hopefully the metal won’t buckle with you pulling me up.” Gerald replied patiently. “It’s what would be used to rescue people who fell through ice, so I think it should work here.”

“I see” Thomas responded slowly. Harry then nudged him and they began looking for a chunk of concrete to elevate Gerald. Slowly working their way from the hole towards the cap they searched. Above the rear section of the cab they found a suitable piece, but it was to large to life over the other debris. Harry radioed to Watson that the currently plan was to move rubble into the hole and pull Gerald out from there. Harry also explained that they would have to clear some debris from the rest of the engine to move it over.

Watson told them to wait a moment and radioed it to the LT. After a few moments of conversation Watson called up to them. “Lieutenant Yorkshire sent Johnson’s squad to help clear debris.”

Without wanting to wait Harry and Thomas began clearing rubble. They picked up and tossed off small pieces, flinging them like skipping stones. They had only moved maybe eight pieces of concrete before Johnson’s squad arrived to help.

The arrival of Johnson’s squad significantly sped up the process of clearing a path. Jean and Alexander worked together to lift larger debris off the truck. Everybody else moved the smaller pieces. After a few minutes of working they cleared enough of a path that they could move the concrete chunk to the hole. With seven people pushing the chosen chunk slowly scraped towards the hole.

Half way to the hole the metal underneath the concrete began to buckle. Harry and the six others back peddled, ran, or jumped off the engine. Harry shouted at Gerald to watch out, before diving of the engine. He landed on his feet unsteadily, waving his arms for balance. A moment after he landed the roof of the truck gave way, the concrete falling through. The resounding crash echoed throughout the city, bouncing from building to building.

Harry scrambled back up the ladder at the rear, and looked at the now collapsed tank. The entire roof on the cab’s side of the hole had caved in. Bounding over to the now gapping hole, harry shined his flashlight into the hole.

Gerald was standing at one end of the tank, shaking the stagnant water off of him. Looking up he spotted Harry and waved.

“I survived, Harry. Just a bit wet.”

“That’s good, now let’s get you out of there.”

“Yeah, I think I can just climb over the edge of the truck from the concrete now.” Gerald gestured as a he spoke, indicating the left side of the engine.

“Alright, we’ll wait down here and help you over as needed.”

Harry clambered back down the truck, and waited on the left side for Gerald to start clambering out. His hands grabbed the edge of the truck and slowly pulled himself up. With his arms fully extended he swung a leg over the lip, then the other. Harry watched Gerald slide down the engine and onto the ground. Gerald then slid his back down the side of the engine to a sitting position, exhausted from climbing the engine.

Harry walked over and offered Gerald a friendly hand and spoke, “Well Gerald, looks like you got your upper body workout for the day.”

Gerald accepted the the hand and pulled himself up with it, before responding with, “Yes. Yes,I suppose I have. Hopefully I won’t have to do any more today.”

The two squads gathered in the intersection then took a collective break. Everybody took out their straws and got a drink, the last half hour proving very exhausting in full combat kit. Refreshed, Harry put his straw and water away. Casting his gaze about the city, he observed how different it was from Foba City and Turnop. Unlike the wall to wall, carved from rock and steel tunnels there were wide open spaces, with parking for vehicles and plant-life. The fact that private transportation existed at all once was a foreign object to Harry, with cities maintaining all trolleys and elevators throughout Nevexico. Any actual cars or gasoline vehicles were owned by the military, to transport troops. The multistory visible part of buildings was new, with the stone hewn buildings of Foba only having the first floor visible, while the rest was stone. There also was not a lot of plant life just growing in public, most being relegated to state managed parks, farms, and private homes of the wealthy.

Watson shook Harry from his thoughts when he spoke, “Breaks over, it’s time to move out.”

The group of two squads began to make their way back to the platoon. The squads walked back, watching all directions for anything hostile. The way back proved uneventful, nothing other than a two tail, five legged, three eyed thing wondering across the road ahead. Gerald shot it, saying something about it may be dangerous. Harry didn’t object. He didn’t wan to end up like Caleb or Cale.

The group turned returned to the apartment complex, joining the huddle of soldiers in the center of the parking lot. Gerald was directed to Freeman, the medic. Freeman did a cursory inspection, and cleared Gerald for further combat.

Lieutenant Yorkshire began to speak once everybody was situated, “Alright, judging from our map and a map in the apartments I led us too far east. We need to head north west to reach the canyon. We’ll get moving right away.”

—————————————————————————————————————————————

The formation of soldiers tromped through the overgrown edge of the city as they made their way towards the canyon. Their spread out line merged into the scattered leaves and trees. To the north west was a gaping gash in the ground, with masked figures scuttling about in the pit of it. One such figure bent over, a glint of metal catching his eye.