by Andrea Thomas

Alone, she drifted through the wasteland. She walked along the deserted streets looking left and right at the empty shells of buildings, listening to the sound of human silence.
"Can anybody hear me?", "Is there anyone out there?", she said. I am woman, hear me roar, she thought. But no one answered, no one ever had.

Every day for hundreds of years, thousands of drones had come to work here; endlessly, mindlessly toiling for millions of masters in the name of the parody they called a living. Now they were all dead. Now there was only she.

For the first week she had hidden. The madness reigned all around her and she remained in the corner in her room, trembling in fear of the time they would come to take her with them to hell. All the time knowing they didn't understand it any more than she did, and somehow, that made it even scarier.

First came the sickness, then the madness. They rose from their beds as demons, their weaknesses purged, nothing left but the purity of destruction. Then they came for others, and those who did not join them died where they stood. At first there had been the TV, but then there was nothing but the sound of mankind tearing himself asunder.

But when they came for her, he came too. He was like a shadow thrown against the wall by the lights of a passing car, hardly there but he was gone. He came from behind. It happened in a blur. He murdered all three of them. The report of his shotgun deafened her, and when she watched them die she couldn't hear their cries. When it was over and he came towards her with his barrel smoking, she couldn't even hear herself screaming.

"My name is Karen", she shouted. Her own voice answered from the empty buildings. A flock of birds burst up from a nearby roof, casting shadows across the streets as they fluttered away into the clear blue sky. In the distance she could hear the howling.

She checked the shotgun she carried, making sure it was loaded. The dogs hadn't bothered her yet, but in time they would come, she knew they would. Easy prey, they would think. What else was there to think?

"I'm not going to hurt you", he'd said. She couldn't hear the words, but she saw his eyes. They did not show the confusion. He reached out to her and she took his hand. He led her, and she followed him.

Later the silence gave way to ringing, and in time, to his voice. They talked under a bridge. All around them was the sound of violence, and the echoes of death.
"Why didn't it happen to us?", she asked.
"Dunno. Immune, I guess."
"But if we're immune, there must be others somewhere, right?"
"I ain't seen anyone else, like us, I mean."
"Maybe when it's all over, then we'll see."
"Yeah. Maybe."

It had taken only a week. Screaming and raving, the last man had died before them. Before their eyes he collapsed to his knees, tearing chunks of hair and flesh from his head. Then he fell silent, and his body turned to dust. She had been sick. He had simply stared.

"Was it germ warfare or something like that?", she asked him.
"Dunno. I guess so."
"Who was fighting?"
"Dunno. I thought it was all nice and friendly right now."
"Maybe it was an experiment that went wrong."
"Maybe it was some mutated virus or something. I saw this movie once where..."
"I'm hungry."
"You're right. We should find food."

Karen turned down a side street, trying to sing to herself. Nothing came to mind. She caught sight of a music store and headed towards it. She examined the exterior. The door was smashed in and the large window in smithereens on the sidewalk, but there was no sign of fire. The structure was probably intact. She went inside.

The place wasn't badly hit at all. Most of the stock was untouched. Rows of CDs and cassettes sat neatly filed in alphabetical order. Some of the racks nearer the door had been broken up, but further in there were no signs of damage. Obviously they'd found no-one here to kill, and had simply moved on.

She wandered up and down the aisles examining the merchandise. Occasionally she stopped to pick out an album by her favourite bands, and presently she began to hum snatches of almost forgotten melodies.

"I really liked 'Wylde Hartz'? They were really cool." he said.
"They were allright."
"Oh come on, they were great. Remember 'Ships'? No? Here, I'll sing it to you, 'Were we just ships... that pass in the night?... were we just souls... who drifted out of sight?... '"
"Ow! My ears! I remember, I remember. Meaningful lyrics."
"Okay, you do better."
"No problem. Just don't sing anymore."
"Hey, I'm the best male singer in the world."
They both laughed.

She wandered over to the sales desk to see if there was a portable stereo under the counter. It'd be kind of nice to hear some music again. She leaned over and looked upside down underneath. Nothing. Just one of those midi systems. She sighed and left the store.

It'd been three weeks before the power went out all over. Some places lost it before others. They'd moved around, following the light like moths. They kept to hospitals mostly, where the emergency generators survived the longest. Most of the big plants had gone in the early stages of the madness. None of them were on fire, and there'd been no explosions since the end.

"I didn't think it would be this tough", he said one night in the dark. The dogs were roaming, they were already organised. They hunted in packs. So far they hadn't come after them.
"I mean, I've seen movies about this kind of thing and the survivors always find what they need. You know, they collect supplies and hold up somewhere with its own power." he said.
"Presumably they weren't without any mechanical or scientific skills whatsoever."
"Oh right, like it's my fault."
"I didn't say that."
"Okay. Okay, so I'm not perfect, I'm sorry, forgive me."
"I said nothing, you're just being paranoid."
"How about I just go out there and forage for food? I'll club a few dogs over the head and we'll cook 'em on the fire. You start rubbing sticks together."
"Will you sit down! Quit it. There's no need to kill anything, there's plenty of tinned stuff in the stores."<
"Yeah, but the meat is rotting."

"We don't need meat."

"But what if the dogs come looking for us? We won't be strong enough to fight back."

"I don't think they're going to."

"Why not?"

"I don't know, it just seems as if they're leaving us alone somehow."

"You think so?"

"I guess."

"Wow! Like maybe they know we're the masters."

"Maybe."

Karen walked along from the music store and came to a clothes store. She raised her left arm and sniffed her armpit. Not too bad, no real need to change. Still, it can't hurt to look, she thought. She adjusted the heavy knapsack on her back and stepped inside.

"You really stink, do you know that?" she observed as he sat next to her.

"So? You're no cream soda yourself."

She looked away and gave a furtive sniff. He was right.

"The power's gone, there's no showers", she said defensively.

"There's the fountains."

"There's no power in those either, stupid."

He folded his arms and frowned.

"But there's water."

"There's water in the river too, you want to jump in it?"

"Yech, no."

"Well then."

The next day they went searching with a change of clothes bundled under their arms. Finally they came to a large ornamental fountain which was fairly clean. There was a statue of some naked dead Greek in it.

"Okay, I'll take this one, you go find another" she said.

"No way, this is the best one. We've been walking for hours. I'm staying."

He began stripping off his shirt.

"Okay fine, but you take this side, I'll take that."

"Fine with me."

She nodded and walked around to the other side of the statue, ensuring it was placed directly between them before she too began to undress.

She heard him jump into the water on the other side and let out a whoop.

"Jesus, it's cold"

She halted unbuttoning her blouse and shouted over.

"Quit complaining, that's probably why there are no small creatures living in it."

"Except us", he shouted back, and the splashing continued. He yelled as he went under and bounced back up, the cold water running along his body. She continued undressing.

"Wow!" he exclaimed.

She spun, covering herself with her hands. He was looking at a small shiny object in his hand.

"What is it?" she asked.

"It's a quarter."

"Great."

"Hey, you never know." he said and smiled.

She tried on a new blouse. She didn't even look around anymore. No one was watching but ghosts. She checked her reflection in a nearby mirror. She turned this way and that, pressing her fingers to the collar, craning her neck to see the line of it. But then she caught sight of herself. The dark, sunken eyes that stared back at her did not match the gaiety of the garment. The finest in ladies' fashions for the finest of ladies. Sweets to the sweet. She removed the delicate decoration and replaced her dirty shirt. Time to move on.

"Nothing today, thank you", she told the ghosts, and out she went.

"Did you ever think about God?" he asked.

"Sometimes."

"Do you think about him now?"

"All the time."

"Do you think he's watching?"

"I think he forgot us."

It was getting late. The shadows had started shifting. Karen sought out a suitable site to stop in for the night. She had to keep moving around. No point in getting bogged down in one place.

"I think we're pretty well set up here", he said. The house was decorated with posters, littered with books, magazines and CDs. The portable stereo was set up next to a pile of batteries still in their shiny packets. Beside them sat the VCR and TV, connected to a car battery with various insulated wiring. He'd found a book in one of the libraries which told him how to do it. Amazingly, it worked.

"It's not bad. Not bad at all", she agreed.

His room was on the first floor, hers was on the second. The place was secure, away from the city, convenient to a good supermarket, not far from a small river and had a kitchen run from gas cylinders. Battery lamps and candles were ignited in the dark for as long as they were needed. Night didn't scare them anymore. This was home.

Karen spotted an office block with revolving doors just down the street from the clothes store. She went in. The lobby was luxurious, decorated with grey marble and black porcelain. The huge sign behind reception boasted of the executive offices and the companies which had formerly inhabited its floors. She passed it by and made for the stairs.

Access to the upper floors was by elevator only. That was just fine. She wandered around the second floor until she found the fire stairs, pushed open the connecting door and went through, closing it firmly behind her. The dogs couldn't get by the revolving door anyway, but better sure than dead.

Upstairs she found a nice office with a comfortable couch. She cleared it of broken glass and sat down to set up her stove. She extracted the small metal campfire from her haversack, giving it a quick shake to ensure it was still good. She placed it on the floor in front of her and began unloading her dinner.

"I want some meat", he complained one day.

"There's tinned hot dogs."

"Yech."

"You don't need meat. We have a perfectly balanced diet from what we get in the supermart."

"Doesn't mean I don't want meat."

"Some of the packaged stuff is still in date."

"Yech."

"If you want a Big Mac, you just go and get one anytime you want to, okay?"

"Fine. Can I get you one too?"

They both laughed.

After she'd finished her meal, she carefully packed the stove away. It was still light out, but it was too dark to move on even if she wanted to. She pulled her sleeping bag from its spot on top of the haversack and unrolled it on the couch. She stripped off and lay in it. It felt nice. She hoped it wouldn't get too warm tonight.

She reached into the haversack again and rooted around for her book. She found it and pulled it out past the jumble of items she kept handy. The shotgun lay beside the window, still loaded. She threw the book down on top of the sleeping bag on her legs and again delved into the sack. She removed the reading lamp and set it down above her head on the back of the couch.

"You've been reading a lot recently", she noted one evening as she watched him engrossed by the lamplight.

"Yeah. The VCR's too heavy on those batteries, anyway, I've seen everything."

"What are you reading now?"

"Dickens."

"Really?"

"Yeah. It's something I've never read. You know, it's kind of interesting."

"Imagine that."

She smiled.

"Oh, hey, we can't all be geniuses."

There was a pause.

"Do you really like it?"

He turned to her and looked into her eyes.

"Yeah. I do." he said.

There was no race of irony. She looked away and she blushed.

She settled down in the sleeping bag and began reading; "Mrs. McGinty's Dead" by Agatha Christie. It was like a puzzle. You didn't have to think about it, just try to work it out. There was nothing much to it, but it was kind of fun. She'd long ago read up on all she needed to survive. She'd even read the bible for a while and tried to find a reason for it all. It hadn't helped. The apocalypse itself in the event had proved to be far more meaningless. Now she read Agatha Christie; she was tired of thinking.

"But what are we supposed to do?" he said plaintively.

"I don't know."

"Shouldn't we be repopulating the world?"

"Why?"

"Well... I don't know, because there's no one left but us?"

"So?"

"So, isn't it what we're supposed to do?"

"What makes you so sure of that?"

"I don't know - the Bible; 'Be fruitful, multiply, fill the earth and conquer it '...you know... just...ah who cares?"

"Fine."

There was a pause.

"You'd think God would give us a sign or something." he said.

"I'm going to bed." she answered.

"Can I come too?"

"Forget it, pal. I'm not bringing any babies into this world."

"I would if I could."

"Then do."

"But...I can't."

"Then don't."

There was a pause.

"We don't have to have babies."

"I knew you'd get around to it sooner or later." she said, anger rising.

"What do you mean?" he answered defensively.

"You never fooled me, you know. But I'm still not interested."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not. Did you really think I'd fall for it?"

"Fall for what? I was serious."

"I'm sure you were."

In the dark, sometimes nightmares came. Sometimes she saw his face. As she lay in the sleeping bag she was aware of her discomfort. She turned and pulled down the zipper, her mind struggling to hold onto murky unconsciousness, but shake the images laced into it. She felt moist heat on her face. Then she became aware of a sound from the darkness - growling.

"Karen?" His voice startled her. She sat up in the bed, pulling the covers over her chest.

"What are you doing up here?"

"I...I just wanted to talk a bit."

"I don't want to talk about it anymore."

"I know that, but..."

"But nothing. I don't care. I'm not doing it, okay?"

"No." he said.

"What?"

"No, it's not okay."

"I beg your pardon."

"Dammit Karen, does it scare you that much?"

"Get out of here. Right now."

"Please Karen. I love you."

"Oh. Jesus. Get out!"

"What's wrong with me?"

"You're a total fucking idiot."

"You know that's not true."

"I told you to get out. I meant it."

"Okay, okay. It's just that I feel so lonely."

"Oh Je-sus! You really have no shame, do you? You'll say any old shit, won't you? Well, it won't work. I am not interested, you understand. That's it. There's nothing more to it. End of discussion. Get the hell out of my room."

"Why?"

"I don't have to justify myself. I said no. Get out."

"Okay. Fine. Fuck you. Fuck me. Fuck the world."

He turned and stormed out. She heard him thunder down the stairs, then the slam of the front door as he tore out into the night. Her heart was thumping wildly, she felt sweaty and fearful, but she was also mad as hell. But at least it was over. At least he was gone. She lay back down and fell into a restless sleep.

Her eyes flew open and she pounced towards her shotgun by the window. She fell over her haversack and landed two feet short of it. The dog stepped around her and stood between her and the weapon. She was defenceless. There was a pistol in the sack, but there was no way she could get to it. The dog would be on her in a heartbeat. She froze where she was and stared into the animal's unblinking eyes.

"Karen!" His voice at the edge of her dreams was a vague, irritating noise.

"Karen, for God's sake wake up!" She heard it more plainly now.

"Karen!" The repetition was annoying. She still had not opened her eyes, but she was waking up.

"Oh Christ." This last he whimpered. She heard it plainly through the open window. And now she heard another sound - the growling.

She flung herself out of bed and went to the window. She looked down and saw him backed against the door. There were about ten of them standing a good six yards away, advancing cautiously; mostly shepherds, but thinner. "I'll throw you the keys", she shouted. His head snapped upwards and his terrified eyes locked onto hers. They were filled with tears. At that instant, before she could even move, the pack struck.

By the time she had got to a gun, they had torn him to pieces. She had to kill two of them before the others would even retreat. When they had gone, she retrieved his carcass and then was repeatedly sick in the upstairs bathroom. The next day she burned the house with his remains inside. Ashes to ashes.

She stared into the dog's dark eyes as her vision adjusted to the gloom inside the office. It was a Rottweiler. The animal merely stood there panting, occasionally breaking into a snarl and a low growl, but it did not move to attack her. Man's best friend. The last man was dead.

Okay dog, so it's just you and me, she thought. So you've come for me at last. Did God send you to finish the job? She continued to meet the creature's stare, her own eyes hard as diamonds and twice as bright with tears.

Then she heard the tiny bark of a pup. Now a small dark creature waddled around the open office door, and happily made its way across to its mother. Several others followed, most of them dozily and awkwardly, barely able to make the journey before they flopped down in a heap under her belly and fell back to sleep in the company of their siblings. Karen sat down. The dog growled, but still it did not move. The pups dozed peacefully. Did God send you? Did God send you to me? Karen let the tears roll down her face but made no sound to disturb them.

All around her there had been life. In the suburbs the grass had begun to grow wild, and weeds and flowers fought their natural battle for survival in the pristine rockeries by the gnome-guarded pools. In the trees there were birds, in the parks she found squirrels. Many noted her passing with interest, but surprisingly little fear. They observed her from afar, but vanished when she tried to get near them. There were still a few cats around, but they were rare and extremely skittish. She'd even seen a few deer. She had no idea where they'd come from. The air was clean and fresh, and there was life all around her, but the houses were empty. There was no one left but her. That was why she'd left. There was too much life, and none of it human. So, alone, she drifted through the wasteland. She surveyed the testament of the conquistadors. Fill the earth and conquer it. Okay. Then what?

She stared at the dog and wondered how she'd gotten in. She was obviously alone. If there was a pack living here they'd all be on her by now. Maybe she had wandered off to have the pups. Maybe she'd been here all the time. Neither explanation rang true. She stopped wondering. She watched the pups as they slept. They were cute. Puppies were always cute. She smiled in spite of herself. Of course, they'd grow up to be just like all the others, killers roaming the streets in search of food.

Dawn had broken outside. She noticed it was brighter now. In the half-lit office, the dog remained. She thought about making a move for the gun, then dismissed it. Why bother? She didn't seem threatening anymore. She just continued to sit and to watch and to wait, but for what? Karen sighed. There didn't seem to be too many options open to her. Perhaps the dog was waiting for her to die and be done with it. Perhaps God was too lazy to finish the job himself.

"My name is Karen", she said and extended her right hand. Suddenly, the animal lifted its right foreleg and planted its paw on the flat of her palm. Karen stared dumbfoundedly. The dog started panting, her tongue bouncing unharmed over her sharp white teeth. She seemed to be smiling. "Pleased to meet you", she added, and grasped the paw firmly. The dog merely turned its head to one side and looked out of the window at the vanishing night. Karen laughed. There was nothing else she could do. She laughed harder, clutching the dog's paw gently in her hand. Some of the puppies woke up and started yipping in irritable confusion. The bitch bowed her head and licked them gently. Karen felt her whole body rock with laughter. It brought her a warm and pleasant feeling all over. She looked out the window and noticed the sun creeping up between the buildings in the distance and the morning shadows wandering slowly across the streets.

Suddenly she noticed one of the pups had crawled into her lap and was nuzzling down between her thigh and her belly. She reached down and picked it up. The little animal blinked grumpily and licked its nose a few times. She put it down beside its mother where its siblings were sluggishly finding their way to their morning nourishment.

Karen was still laughing. Of course. It was so obvious she'd missed it. Alone, she'd wandered in the realms of the dead, mourning the passage of humankind. But she was alive. And all around her were other living things. The world was not dead, it was still there for her and for any being who wished to share it with her. She laughed and she felt a warmth all over. Life. There is always life. There must always be life. All it requires is the will to live, and the will to be. And so she willed it to begin, and she felt it begin to grow inside her; life - a new life.

She rose to her feet and reached for her knapsack. The dog shifted uncomfortably and growled slightly. Karen looked at her and shook her head. The dog was silent. She picked it up and rooted inside for her pistol. When she removed it, the dog barked at her. She shook her head again and the dog stopped. She dropped the pistol on the couch, and tossed the box of cartridges beside it. She wouldn't need them again. She rolled up the sleeping bag and stuffed it in the sack. She pulled out a light shirt and a pair of shorts, then put them on. She slipped into her socks and boots, then after putting the night light back with the rest of her stuff, she slung the bag over her shoulder and left the office. The dog and the pups trotted after her.

She went downstairs and into the street. The morning was clear and bright. She smiled. The dog looked up at her expectantly. She reached down and stroked her head, then scratched behind her ears. "I'm fine", she said, "everything will be different from now on, I promise." The dog licked her hand, then turned and walked away. The puppies toddled after her.

The woman turned to face the distant horizon. All around her the buildings stood ruined and silent as they always had. Delenda est Carthago. Carthage is destroyed. And when her child came, she would be born into a new world, conceived in the cadaver of the old. The cities would crumble, but she didn't mind - she would not be there when they did. She embarked at a steady stride through the wasteland, this time with purpose. She knew where she was headed. And she was no longer alone.