Piper's Last Song

The water over St. Anthony Falls was spewing spewing forth as if in a mad rush to make it from the Mississippi to the sea. Piper had noticed that in the last year, the once-foul water had become unusually pure; so much so that she begun to eat some of the fish she caught, rather than putting them all out for the cats.

Life had become more lonely than usual that spring. Fewer people roamed the deserted city ~ likely many had died over the long, frigid winter. In some ways, it relieved her because it gave her relief from the hyper-vigilance that kept her in a constant state of anxiety; whenever she saw or heard people she immediately went on the defensive in case they were a danger. But the lack of companionship ~ even though friendships were short-lived ~ brought her almost to the point of despair at times.

The sickness had accomplished its mission. In fact, it was so much more successful than 'those-who-would-be-kings' had expected that few people had survived at all ~ including the scientists who had brought it down on the heads of the unwary world. Piper had been one of the few who had not succumbed to the disease, but it had taken her almost nine months to regain her health. That was three years ago.

Since then, her companions were the cats that swarmed around the cave she had appropriated on the edge of the river. Originally she had lived in an abandoned apartment building, then a quaint house near the center of the city. But after a year she had to accept that there was no safety to be found in the buildings or homes in the surrounding areas ~ roving packs of barely-human criminals broke into any place they thought might contain something useful, and they very much enjoyed starting fires, killing and maiming people. Huge swaths of the city were now nothing but soot and cinders.

Over the years Piper had salvaged copious amounts of canned foods, pasta, rice and various ingredients for cooking. There seemed to be a never-ending supply of bottled liquids, but she was relieved that the river water now seemed drinkable after boiling. She hadn't yet nerved herself to kill an animal, not that there were so very many around, excepting the cats, dogs and a growing number of birds. She supposed at some point she would have to give in, because she didn't know how long the canned meats would last, but at least now she had fresh fish from the river.

She had met many harmless people wandering around the city, alone or in pairs and an occasional small group. Somehow they always seemed to drift off after a week or a month ~ everyone seemed aimless and confused. There was always the fear of the gangs and of the future, but it was good to have someone to talk to and maybe share some laughs and memories with. There were also those who had been driven crazy by the grief, uncertainty and loneliness, and they were to be avoided.

Piper couldn't complain about lack of necessities...the city was large, and it was fairly easy to find the things she needed once she knew where to look for them. But she was unhappy. Everyone was searching for someone to latch onto and hold close, but finding the right person had proved to be impossible ~ she was beginning to accept that she might finish out this life by herself, however long she had. Luck had been with her, as she had not become seriously ill or hurt, but it would take only one terrible misfortune and she would be finished. It was not a pretty thought to entertain for someone so young.

June 23rd was Piper's 22nd birthday, and she was stubbornly determined to observe the day. Thus she set out into the city fairly early in the morning, hoping to come across some new and untried distraction. The day was warming up quite nicely, the sun was shining and a pleasant breeze blew down the streets and swept up the never-ending tumbleweeds of paper and other refuse. She wandered into a neighborhood she had never taken the time to explore before.

Aimlessly she walked, looking about with interest at the merchandise still sitting on the shelves in the stores. Here was a shop that still carried incense and oils, across the street mannequins were decked out in the last fashion that had come along and died there. She entered a jewelry store and looked at the tarnished silver trinkets that lined the display cases. In one case was a heart-shaped locked that caught her fancy. She slid the door back, pulled it out, and then clasped it around her neck, giving herself a birthday present. As the sun crept higher into the sky, Piper began to look for a cool place to sit and think.

A few blocks away was a hill, and on that hill stood an old, brick church ~ she could see the sun glinting off of the beautiful, as-yet unbroken stained glass windows, and decided that it was as good a place as any to rest. Climbing the hill, she curiously examined the building and found it decidedly welcoming. She pulled the heavy doors ajar, recoiling at the almighty screech, and stepped in.

Piper stood still as the door slammed shut behind her, blinded by the darkness of the church from the bright sunlight her eyes had accustomed themselves to. After a few moments, she was able to discern the shadowy interior and dust motes that drifted below the high ceilings, lit by the brilliant stained glass.

Slowly, she shuffled forward towards the alter which stood under a strange sculpture of writhing bodies and chose a pew. As she sat in the cool refuge, she began to drowse. In a half-dreaming state, she imagined that she was seated at a great table filled with impossibly delicious-smelling foods: roasts, potatoes, breads and pastries ~ odors long-forgotten ~ informing her subconscious that she was getting quite hungry.

After a while she noticed an eerie, almost funereal melody weaving its way through her mind and she imagined that she was surrounded by quite a large group of people. It was as though she was being studied and was about to be judged; for what, she did not understand. But she sensed that the censoring eyes approved of what they saw and the oppressive feeling dissipated as quickly as it had manifested itself.

She was jolted back to full consciousness by the click of a door gently swinging shut. To her right, standing in front of the door of a confessional, was a tall, plump man who was observing her good-naturedly, as if he had been expecting her for a while and was pleased with her arrival. He approached her and introduced himself as Caleb.

He sat down next to Piper, and she examined him closely, trying to deduce whether or not he was a threat to her. Warily, she told him her name and asked him what he was doing there. "Catching flies." he answered with a slight smile, and then he continued on to explain that he and a cluster of like-minded individuals used the church for gatherings, and when someone wanted company he or she would often visit in hopes of a friend stopping in while they were there.

They chatted for nearly an hour, during which time he invited her to attend a dinner that was being prepared at that moment in the basement of the church ~ a celebration of some kind, it seemed. Apparently she hadn't imagined the smells after all, and ~ with some misgivings ~ she stood up and followed him to the entryway of the church, where stone stairs descended down into the darkness.

Indeed, the smells became mouth-wateringly stronger as they made their way down an incredibly long stairway. It grew cooler and damper the further they went. Piper began to detect what sounded like wailing in the distance, and fear slowly began to creep over her, crawling over her spine and she broke out in a chill sweat. At that moment, she and Caleb reached the bottom of the steps and walked out into a large, gloomy hall.

There were many people in the midst of dinner preparations. Against the back wall was a spit over a great fire. Piper wanted to stop and watch the goings-on, but Caleb took a firm grasp on her upper arm and led her to the right side of the room and through a doorway. "Where are we going?" she asked, her nervousness increasing. He told her there was a room for washing up at the end of the long, dismal hallway.

Her feet kept moving her forward, but a voice in her head had begun to sound an alarm. She suddenly realized that the voices she had heard crying out sounded much, much closer, and that the light was growing dimmer with every step. Just as she was about to stop and wrench her arm away from Caleb, they reached another door. The noise was much louder there, and as he opened the door Piper saw what looked like an extremely large cage filled with filthy, stinking humanity. This was where the anguished moaning originated.

Grasping even more tightly to her arm, Caleb produced a large, old-fashioned key, and before she could think to react he unlocked the door to the cage and thrust her in. As she struck the stone wall with her shoulder, she heard the door clash shut and the key turn in the lock. Frozen with shock, Piper watched as Caleb left the room; then she began to look around her. Few of the prisoners even looked at her, and those that did showed no interest in her at all.

Gingerly, she sank down on the dank floor and fell into a stupor. Hours passed. The complaining voices rose and fell, but they were of no importance to Piper as she waited to see what would happen. Just as the candles had burnt low and she thought to lay her aching head on the cold stone in hopes of sleep, the door to the room was thrust open again.

In strode three large, burly men, who began shouting, "Time for dinner! Stand up and let us get a look at you!" One of them unlocked the door to the cage and the two others walked in and contemplated the quivering mass of people who had shrunk back to the furthest recesses of the room. Finally the largest man spoke, looking at a healthy-looking young man of about twenty-five. "This 'un'll do fine." They grabbed him, laughing and cursing as they did so, and dragged him out of the cage as he fought like a wild thing. The door was quickly locked again, and a drained silence filled the cell.

As the murmuring slowly resumed, she suddenly understood that her luck had finally turned for the worse.

Piper had set out that morning for a bit of an adventure, in her perpetual search for reasons to stay alive. It could have happened on any day, but somehow it seemed especially bitter to realize on her birthday that her life would be coming to a gruesome end soon. And in the morning when she awoke to the rattle of tin pails full of food, she sat there dully and watched the others stuffing it into their mouths.

She may have reached the end of the line, but she was damned if she would give any of those monsters the satisfaction of fattening her up. After years of scavenging for food to keep herself alive, she knew that she would never allow another morsel of food to pass her lips. And as she fingered the silver locket still hanging around her neck, she softly hummed "Happy Birthday" to herself and turned her face to the wall.