Jack

Zoe crept through the rubble, picking her way through the maze of steel and concrete strewn across the landscape. She chose her steps with care, making sure to avoid planting her bare feet on the shards of glass that littered the ground. Trailing in her wake was a line of perfect imprints, marking her progress in the blanket of ashy powder covering the world.

She rounded a particularly large pile of debris and stopped. In front of her, an oily pool blocked her path. The liquid churned and bubbled, belching puffs of malignancy into the air. The banks of the pool stretched between twin piles of rubble, lapping hungrily at the chunks of concrete. Beyond the pool, the graveyard of broken buildings continued, reaching out to touch the horizon.

Zoe frowned, wrinkling her nose in disgust. She had no idea what the liquid was, but if the smell was any indication it was best avoided. She hiked her shoulders, readjusting the straps of the dingy Dora the Explorer backpack hanging limply from her gaunt frame. Her head swiveled from side to side as she eyed the mounds of debris appraisingly. They looked stable enough, but she knew from experience that looks could be deceiving. She turned her head, looking over her shoulder. The path she had followed had offered little in the way of alternate routes. If she retraced her steps, it most likely meant her day's efforts would be wasted. She turned back toward the pool, unsure how to proceed. Then, a bit of movement across the pool caught her attention. She stood as still as possible, expecting something horrible to emerge.

The black cat that sauntered into view across the pool was far from sinister. Its coat of thick fur was matted with grime, clinging snugly to its thin body, but its eyes were bright and alert. It held its tail high as it walked, moving without concern to the far edge of the pool. When it arrived it sat, curling its voluminous tail around its feet. The cat looked directly at Zoe, regarding her with unblinking yellow eyes.

Zoe crouched down, smoothing the skirt of her tattered dress with her hands. She smiled at the cat and waved.

“Hello there,” she said, “What’s your name?”

The cat remained as still as stone.

“Are you hungry? I think I’ve still got some tuna in my backpack.”

The cat yawned, then resumed its impassive stare.

Zoe stood and looked at the rubble again. She walked to the foot of the hill on the left side of the pool and took an experimental step onto a solid-looking slab of concrete. As she put the full weight of her body onto the slab she leaned her left hand against the hill, sending a shower of fragments tumbling down around her feet. Several stones hit the surface of the tarry substance with a plop, then sunk into the pool. She continued forward, prodding each outcropping experimentally with her toes before she stepped forward. The tip of her tongue poked through her compressed lips near the corner of her mouth, as if to provide a counterbalance to her movements. With each step, she began to move with more confidence, hopping nimbly from one rock to the next. Then, just over halfway across the slope, the ground slid away beneath her feet.

Zoe's hands scrambled wildly, clawing at the debris as she slid toward the pool. Her fingers found purchase on a scrap of iron bar wedged between two chunks of concrete, halting her descent. Her feet swung dangerously close to the liquid as she clung to the metal lifeline. Zoe appeared unfazed by her predicament, looking to the world like a kid at recess, swinging from the monkey bars in the playground. She hoisted her legs, digging her toes into the loose debris, searching for a bit of solid ground. Finally, after several seconds of effort, her foot connected with a narrow ledge protruding through the loose debris. She pushed off with her feet, enabling her to get a better grip on the iron bar. With her handhold secured she pulled, hoisting her body up until she was able to place all ten toes onto the ledge below her.

She paused, clinging to the side of the hill, waiting for the thumping in her chest to subside. When her heartbeat had returned to a more normal rhythm she continued, inching her way across the narrow ledge toward solid ground. It took a full five minutes for her to finish her crossing, but she managed to reach the other side without another mishap.

When she reached the end, she slid off a large chunk of concrete to the ground and sat down wearily. She looked at the cat, who was regarding her with a bored expression and smiled.

“That was a close one, huh?” she said.

The cat blinked.

Zoe stood, grimacing as she did. She examined herself as best she could, looking for signs of serious damage. Other than two scraped knees and a welt near her elbow that would probably turn a lovely shade of purple, she seemed to have survived the crossing intact. She removed her backpack and retrieved a plastic blue and white first aid kit and a silver can with the label half torn away. She opened the kit and took out a paper packet, tearing it open with her teeth. She removed the towelette inside and cleaned her knees gingerly, wiping away the blood and dirt.

When she was sufficiently satisfied with her work, she returned the first aid kit to her backpack and turned her attention to the can. She pried the pull tab away from the lid and slid her finger into the metal ring, pulling the lid free from the can. The cat’s ears responded to the sound, pivoting on its head. With the can opened, Zoe sat back down, crossing her legs beneath her. She stretched out her arm, holding the can in front of her. The cat stuck its head out, craning its neck in her direction. It looked at the can, then at Zoe.

“It’s ok,” she said, beckoning toward the cat. “There’s plenty for the both of us.”

The cat stood and slunk toward her, sniffing at the air as it approached. Zoe scooped half of the can’s contents into her hand with her index and middle finger, then set the can on the ground in front of her. She took a bite of the tuna and made a sound of exaggerated satisfaction.

“See,” she said, “It’s super yummy.”

The cat seemed encouraged by her words and trotted the remaining distance to the can. Zoe watched the cat as it began to eat, picking pieces of tuna out of the can onto the ground with its paw, then gobbling it up hungrily. She ate her portion absently as she watched, more interested in her feline dining companion than her meal.

When the cat had finished, it sat on its haunches and looked at Zoe with half-closed eyes. Zoe held out her hand toward the cat, moving slowly so she wouldn’t startle it. The cat sniffed at her fingers, then rammed its head into the side of her hand, rubbing its cheek on her skin with enthusiasm. She chuckled, pleased with the exchange. She dug her fingers into its fur at the nape of its neck, massaging the scrawny animal. The cat began to rumble, sending vibrations rippling through her fingers.

Zoe's fingers encountered a band of nylon around the cat’s neck that jingled when she touched it. Curious, she reached out with both hands and picked the cat up, placing it in her lap. The cat made no effort to resist her, choosing to curl up into a ball in her lap. She continued petting the cat, stroking it between the ears as she murmured soothingly to the animal. The fingers of her right hand traced the collar until they found something metallic dangling at the cat’s throat. She took slid the collar around the cat’s neck until the pendant was on top, then parted the matted fur so she could see it. The glint of a gold, heart-shaped locket revealed itself, nestled in a bed of fur. She leaned forward, looking closely at the name inscribed on the locket.

“Jack,” she said, “Is that your name? Jack?”

The cat purred contentedly.

“I like that name. My daddy’s name was Jack.”

She ran her fingers along the edge of the locket, feeling the nub of the hinge. She pressed her thumb against the latch. The locket popped open, revealing a faded picture of a young girl, flanked by a mirror on the opposite side.

“Was this your owner?” she asked, running a finger across the image.

A sparkle of light reflected off the mirror, causing Zoe to squint. She turned to look over her shoulder, staring at the canopy of smog covering the sky. She panned her gaze across the poisonous clouds, searching for the source of the light. Moments later, her eyes found their target. Several hundred feet behind her drifting through the air was a drone. It was moving lazily in her direction, casting its searchlight ahead of it as it came.

“It’s time for me to go now, Jack.” she said.

Zoe removed Jack from her lap and placed him on the ground in front of her. She stood and looked down at him questioningly.

“Do you want to come with me?” she asked.

Jack looked up at her and let out a plaintive cry. She smiled.

“Alright. Follow me.”

Zoe resumed her march through the desolation. Jack followed, leaving tiny prints in the dust beside her own.