Street Rats

“SGT Dick!” he called. Corporal Bob Herrington stood facing the city. “Reconnaissance of the last standing tower is set for two clicks into the moon hours. Pack light, the final tower looks big with all those plants growing onto to it, but it’s only a stairway and two walls. Probably been picked clean already. I’m just gonna bring …”

“Then why are we doing this?”

“This is what we were ordered to do, and this is what we’re going to do,” he began.

“But what is the point? What are we even looking for? I find all these… things! … we find all these things and they’re just… old… things!” Sgt. Dick struggled to find the words. To find any reason for these words to begin with.

A silence echoed on his face as Corporal Bob stared into Dick’s puzzled eyes. “Civilization was lost before the wars. Before the bombs spread hell like disease,” he began quietly. “Long before the wars were even being discussed by the world’s leaders. In these towers there are remnants of civilization. These… things!? … these things are stories. Stories of a time when people lived as neighbors. As friends, as communities, as ambassadors. We didn’t used to have walls and have to fight for territory. We shared big, vast territories among the people. These things contain clues on how to live that way again.”

“So, how do we even know if there’s anything left?”

“As I was saying, it’s probably already been picked clean. All I’m bringing is my phone.”

The moon slid into position. Bob started up the stairway while Dick surveyed the ground floor. By splitting up and each taking their own floors they could get the tower done faster, and Bob knew he could get a further view from a higher vantage point. The territory was unclaimed, someone could show up at any moment. There was a shuffling in the corner of the room. The phone’s lamp fixed on a black bag. “Is it moving?” The shuffling grew more intense, a glint of light blinked behind the bag. Dick grabbed the bag and hurled it through a broken wall. Two rats stared up. They sniffed each other and one circled the other before they both scurried away. A golden, heart shaped locket was left in their place. “Oh! They were mating.” Sgt. Dick picked up the locket and began to sit down, sinking effortlessly into thought. “Let’s see. I’m 16 now… then I turn 17 at the beginning of the second quarter… then it’s one more cycle till I am eligible to be tested for procreation. I wonder how many they can make from me. How do they even find that out? What if I don’t have the right genes for procreation?” The locket swung open. On one side was a man. On the other was an angel. -Mmmbbbbb!!!- The vibration from the phone re-illuminated the room.

“Get your ass up here. We got five more floors and I wanna be able to get some shut eye tonight,” growled Corporal Bob Herrington.

“On my way, sir.”

“You have yourself a shit, a shower, and a shave,” Bob chuckled as they strolled back into camp, “we really made quick work of that tower tonight.” The gate guard inspected their empty hands, snapped a selfie with them and waved them through. Back in the barracks, Sgt. Dick sat in front of a mirror, adorned a locket and slowly dropped a helmet onto the desk. Golden locks cascaded towards the floor caressing an angled stone jaw. Cracked lips mumbling ever so slightly. Piercing blue eyes sunken behind shimmering curtains of hair. The door to the room slammed shut.

“What do you think you’re… I thought I told you to keep that wrapped up!” yelled Bob, furiously.

“You said to have a shower,” said Dick, smugly.

“What is that? What are you wearing?” Dick clutched the locket. “Did you find that tonight? We need to turn that in. Is that gold?” Bob reached for the locket. The chain ripped like thread and the locket fell open on the floor. The photo of the angel lay face down beside it.

“Wait, what is that?” asked Sgt. Dick.

“I think it’s a quick response code. I thought those were gathered and destroyed after the fifth war.”

“What do we do with it?” thought Sgt. Dick.

Corporal Bob pointed his phone at the QR code. He snapped a photo. A circle formed on the screen. The circle grew. It grew bigger and bigger until it filled the entire screen. Then it grew even more. Lines shot out in all directions. Straight lines, curvy lines, legible and scribbly. All kinds in different styles and widths. The phone fell to the floor. They stared at each other in bewilderment and cried in unison.

“These things have maps!?”