First Gear - Eve Langlais Page 0,2

a sigh. He’d not yet caught on to the habit of putting plugs in his ears.

He wiped his feet on a carpet that probably didn’t make much of a difference and looked around the vast lobby.

It held only a few people, some students already in class. Many more had dropped out. Why bother? Most had started to realize they’d never make it to old age. Why spend what time they had studying?

Such a depressing place.

Jool moved quickly across the tiled floor, the intricate pattern losing out to the ever-present grime layering everything. As he headed for the bland door leading to the lower levels, he heard more than one cough. Some of them quite deep.

How many of them would be dead before the start of the next semester? He might be among them.

I need to leave the city. An idea to terrify. He’d never gone farther than a bus or tram could take him. But the idea took root. He should depart, and bring along Onaria. He’d noticed her looking much too wan of late, a gray pallor to her skin. If the end of the world truly marched toward them, then he could think of no one better to spend it with.

The plain door, without even a sign announcing the library it accessed, gave at a slight push. He headed down the stairs. Two flights brought him into the old section of the university, comprised of solid stone and considered to be a dungeon due to its age. His colleagues often teased him.

Find any skeletons?”

“Watch out for ghosts.”

Let them disparage it. Jool appreciated the quiet and the slightly better quality of air. If one ignored the musty scent of old books.

There were no gaslights down here. For a long time now, he’d resorted to using only the barest illumination to preserve his space. A small drop in the grand scheme of the flood of pollution, but it made him feel better.

Having memorized the space, he knew his way to the table and the modified seat in front of it.

Despite his tired lungs, his feet found the pedals on the bike, and he began to churn, spinning the wheel that turned the belt, a machine that managed to produce a feeble light from the bulb attached to the end of it.

As it shone on the old map spread out over the table, he felt only weary resignation that the government had refused him. Then again, he kind of expected it. They were wilfully blind to so many things.

He’d go himself if he had any kind of survival skills, but raised in the city, Jool understood his limitations. Mountain climbing and living off the land were things done in books.

“A copper penny for your thoughts.” The whisper in his ear caused him to cease peddling, plunging the space into darkness. But he didn’t need to see to recognize the woman.

“Onaria! What are you doing here? I thought you had a shift at the hospital.”

“I did, but I left early right after the announcement.”

“What announcement?”

“They’re done, Jool.” She leaned her head on his shoulder. “The hospital just announced today that they could do nothing for the coughs. Nor the tumors. The only thing they’ll work on is stitchable injuries. If they can convince anyone to keep coming to work.”

“Not treat the cough? They can’t do that,” he huffed, quite horrified. “They’re sentencing people to die.”

“They’re dying anyway, Jool. Isn’t it better to let them go quick before it gets worse?”

He grabbed her by the arms and clutched them tight. “Don’t talk like that. I’m sure there’s a solution, a way to save us still.”

“There is no magic cure.” She rolled her shoulders, defeated.

“You can’t give up.”

“Not so much giving up as realizing we’re going to die. Some of us sooner than others.” She heaved in a breath and blurted out, “Which is why I’m leaving the city.”

“What? When?” Her statement threw him off balance.

“Soon. Tomorrow if I can.”

“I see.” He couldn’t help the dejection. He’d waited too long to do anything.

“Why the glum face?” She hugged him. “You’re coming with me.”

“Says who?”

“Me.” Said with a big grin. “You didn’t really think I’d leave my best friend behind.”

Ah yes, friend. Good friends, but somehow he’d slipped into the wrong spot. And he didn’t quite know how to get out.

Despite his earlier thoughts, he still offered a token protest. “But the university—”

“Won’t even notice.”

“Where would we go? Where would we stay?” How would they survive even? What food remained was about to get picked