I Left My Heart By the Grave

It was 2038 when the world as we knew it came to an end. Cultural warfare plagued the world since the advent of the industrial revolution. Ideological factions struggled for control of the world through media, politics, and commerce. After the presidential election of 2036 ended without a clear winner, the decision fell to the American legislature to appoint the new president.

The legislature’s decision caused widespread backlash, culminating in a second civil war rumored for many years before, but no one believed would ever come. The United States of America was fractured, and various global powers intervened to support the side that favored them, escalating the conflict to its zenith.

An electromagnetic pulse weapon crippled the American electrical grid. It brought down nearly all electrical utilities, while atomic missiles were exchanged between Iran, the Russian Federation, and the People’s Republic of China.

In the wake of this chaos, riots ensued across the USA as everyone struggled to control various resources.

All that remained was a graveyard, home to a scant few survivors who clung to life by the might of bullet and bone, no longer caring about the reasons which led to the fight. Fifteen years passed since the last major battle left both sides too weak to fight.

At least, that’s how many Adrian had counted. Admittedly, he could have been wrong. The days of scavenging, fighting other survivors and wild beasts for his daily bread had a way of together. No one made calendars anymore, and phones and computers were a thing of the past.

But honestly, it didn’t matter how long it had been. Adrian’s life’s goal was keeping his belly filled and making sure that he woke up the following day to do it all over. Slowly, he moved eastward toward the state of Maryland that had once been his home. Occasionally, he would hear from more peaceful survivors that the European Union had set up a colony in the ruins of Washington D.C., but he knew better than to believe that bull jibe.

The only thing there that was worth going for were the remains of what used to be his home. Before it all ended, he was away in California on business. The war and the madness that followed kept him away from his family. The new order carved the land in ways almost impossible to navigate. But after many years of grueling effort and trauma, he finally made it.

“Maryland Welcomes You,” said a rusted-out road sign, fallen to the side of a ruined street. Tall grass protruded out from the cracks in the broken asphalt, long grayed from exposure to the elements.

By his estimation, he’d arrived in Harford County, moving south from York, Pennsylvania. He needed to find US Route 01 and move east across the Conowingo Dam to reach Cecil County, and then his journey would be over.

Adrian would often happen upon an attempt to rebuild—usually a housing development or shopping center fortified by survivors attempting to farm and trade with each other.

They never lasted long.

Adrian cautiously moved toward a small hamlet bordered with large sandbags and wrecked automobiles. The guard posted at the gate had already trained his firearm on the wanderer.

“Hold,” he was ordered. “Name and business.”

“Adrian James,” was his answer. “Just passing through and hoping to trade and resupply.”

“What have you got?”

“Narcotics and antibiotics,” he replied. In this hellscape, medicine was more precious than gold. Adrian had done unspeakable things to obtain these drugs. Anyone in need of them never cared about the how or why. “I can trade morphine or penicillin for a day’s worth of food and some ammo. Getting a little low on 9mm mags and 16-gauge slugs. Still got some .357s, just in case you got any ideas of robbing me."

The guard snorted. “Roger that.”

It only took a few minutes for someone to come to the door with supplies after the guard sent word inside. They wore a heavy coat with a hood up. A scarf and sunglasses obscured their face. Adrian drew his .357 magnum in one hand, and a pack of morphine in the other. They drew close and swapped goods quickly.

“Pleasure doing business,” Adrian said. “I’ll wait for you to go back inside. Not going to risk being shot in the back.”

“The world won’t come back with that attitude,” a female voice came from behind the person’s veiled exterior. “You should learn to trust the good in other people again.”

“Says a girl who can’t even show her face,” Adrian countered. “You know, before everything went to shit, people used to fear masked men and monsters in the movies, and the demons and devils of scripture. The truth is that the most evil, terrifying things come from other people, and yourself.”

She had nothing to offer him in rebuttal for those words. She said, “nice locket” and turned and walked away, as if daring him to shoot her in the back and take back his meds.

But he couldn’t.

Adrian reached to the locket hanging around his neck, a remnant of a bygone age. It was in the shape of a heart and had not opened in many years. His foolish sentimentality left him unable to throw it away.

He left and moved south, closing in on what used to be Bel Air, a small city and once the economic hub and County Seat of Harford. Route 01 was the destination, and once he was sure it was the right road, he ventured east toward the Conowingo Dam.

The Dam stretched across the breadth of the Susquehanna River, once providing power to the area via its Hydro-electric plant. Now it was little more than a giant tombstone for the bodies of who died in its construction, trapped forever within its concrete.

Getting across was more dangerous than most of the journey there, Adrian believed. Only a few floodgates were left open before the lights went out and water flowed over the more depressed areas of the bridge atop it. One wrong move, and he would be washed away and perish.

Adrian pushed a car as close as he could to the stream and used it for height in a jump that barely took him across.

His life flashed before his eyes on landing, as he struggled for balance and barely avoided falling back.

A deep sigh of relief was all he allowed himself before he ed to the other side.

Route 01 stretched across the north side of Cecil County and would eventually lead into Nottingham, Pennsylvania. Adrian stopped at the town of Rising Sun and changed course, following Route 273 eastward.

The food he traded was running light, but thankfully, he hadn’t much farther to travel before he reached his destination. He thoughtfully clutched the locket around his neck and allowed his mind to wander.

Back then, he couldn’t turn on the news without seeing a report about the conflicts raging across the country. It was stupid, to resort to such senseless violence over politics. Adrian would curse as he flipped through the channels, trying to find a program that wasn’t interrupted by a report showing a statue toppled or a shop looted.

“They need to stop this crap,” he said under his breath, careful not to wake his sleeping wife, who cradled their child in her belly. Courtney didn’t take a side in the drama, much like him, but he knew she aligned closer to the trailblazers than the traditionalists. His opinion that both sides needed to be put down and order restored might lead to an argument if he voiced it.

She turned over and stretched her arm around him, snuggling close, and he was at her mercy. It was the last night he would see her before work took him thousands of miles away on a business trip. It would cost him being present for the birth of their child, but the mortgage, the electricity, food, and Courtney’s student loans didn’t give him many options.

“Don’t leave without saying goodbye,” she told him the following day as he rose from bed.

“I’ll never say goodbye to you,” he whispered as he closed in for a gentle kiss. “Because I will always come back to you.”

“No matter what?” she asked.

“I swear it.”

“Our daughter will hold you to it,” she chuckled, rubbing her swollen tummy.

“My heart is in your womb,” he told her.

“And here,” she said, offering him a gift. It was a locket made of sterling silver crusted around a ruby face, shaped like a heart. Within were two pictures. A photo of newlywed Adrian and Courtney, and the ultrasound of their unborn daughter.

He smiled warmly at her and cast it around his neck before parting ways with a final kiss, not knowing what events would keep them apart for many years.

After another day, Adrian stood at the dilapidated fence around what remained of his house. His heart thumped hard with each step he took toward the door.

It was crazy to hope that Courtney somehow survived the chaos, let alone raise their daughter in the new world. Even if that had been the case, he doubted they would cling to the old house, waiting every day for his promised return.

And yet, he was here. Adrian kept his promise. He turned the doorknob and slowly entered the house. Years of dust caked everything inside and obviously, no one had lived there in years.

It was intact, to his surprise. Nothing was looted, and it looked as if a child had indeed been raised here. Colorings and moments in time covered the walls.

But no one was here now, Adrian could see that.

Adrian made his way to their bedroom, where he last saw his beloved. He knew very well that an unwelcome sight may greet him when he opened the door. Fortunately, his dread fantasy of stumbling on his wife’s decayed corpse did not come to pass. The bedroom was empty, save for their old belongings and a book laid down on the bed.

“A diary?” he realized. Cracking it open revealed many experiences and intimate thoughts. He spent hours reading it from beginning to end. Their daughter was born healthy and named Cordriana, a mesh name he’d suggested after one too many beers. He fought back tears as he informed himself of their lives, and reached the last page, dated just three years ago.

In the final year, Courtney had fallen ill and advised Cordriana to go live in a nearby settlement after she passed.

The final passage read, “Adrian, I’ll never give up hope that you will come home to us. I won’t be here to greet you, save this message. But I want you to know that I did our best to raise our daughter right. I pray she won’t succumb to the cynicism and base behavior that rule the day. I love you always, Courtney."

Adrian found Courtney’s grave in the backyard, marked by a plain wooden cross. He knelt before it and pulled the heart-shaped locket from his neck. He opened it for the first time in many years, looking down at a vision of happier days before hanging it on the cross.

If Cordriana had survived alone, she could be living nearby in any one of the small settlements in this area, he realized.

Could this world allow one to live and retain that innocence? He wondered that as he aimed the barrel of his 9mm into his mouth; the end he always intended.

But he couldn’t end it, not while that question went unanswered. Every dark fantasy that haunted him the past fifteen years had turned out wrong. Maybe there was reason to have faith that there was some good left in the world. His daughter could be alive out there somewhere.

He stood and smiled, knowing what must be done.