Botanicaust

pause and explore the fallen structures — the engraved cornerstone on a brick wall, the tangle of plastic pipes hanging from a rusted metal girder, a paved stairway descending into an opening in the earth. What had life been like back then, to live without the constant awareness of the thin electric wire separating civilization from cannibalism? To travel freely from one shore to another — and farther — in a matter of hours?
    That kind of hubris had led to the rest of mankind ’ s demise, according to the Brethren. In the Third Fall of Man, people didn ’ t respect the Earth that God put into man ’ s care. But the Old Order remained faithful to the Ordnung, the earthly laws of God, and the Holdout was spared.
    Levi turned his back on the ruins and moved on. He didn ’ t have time to dally with the past. The lessons of the Days of the Prophet had been drilled into him well enough as a child.
    Until now, he ’ d followed the river close to the banks. When he ’ d come to tributaries, he ’ d forded them or sometimes dared an old bridge. But now he had to cross the river and break toward the stone buttes rising into the distant sky.
    Like the open asphalt roadways, this bridge would be a natural pathway for others, including cannibals. Levi hunkered near a rusty girder to survey the path ahead. Crossing the wide expanse of water without a bridge would be unwise, at best. The roiling water bobbed with debris and detritus that proved its unforgiving strength. He had no option but to cross the crumbling concrete and exposed metal.
    Muscles trembling, he hurried to the next support beam, as if sprinting from tree to tree in the apple orchard in a game of hide and seek. The pavement gaped with holes; the edges of the bridge were nothing but sagging, rusty mesh and iron rods. A few empty husks of what had once been cars littered the roadway. He wondered about the people who ’ d abandoned the vehicles. Had they been overtaken by cannibals ? Had they become cannibals? Where had they been fleeing when they ’ d finally deserted the car?
    Stop thinking and move. You have a destination.
    At the center of the span, he glanced over the edge as a jumble of tamarisk branches spun past at dizzying speed. He ’ d never been so high in the air, and a wave of vertigo overtook him. Clutching a beam, he caught his breath and focused on the other shore. Rusty metal cut into his fingertips, but he didn ’ t mind. The pain helped ground him. With carefully placed steps, he slid to the next brace and the next, until he completed the crossing.
    With a final glance at the bridge, he started down the road into what appeared to be desert. No longer lush with green waves of amarantox, the hard-packed red earth had crusted like cracked pottery, fissures spreading from riverbank to horizon. Spindly stems of knapweed and a strange, rounded shrub with variegated leaves intermingled with dwarf amarantox stands.
    The sun beat upon his shoulders with an intensity that made him wonder if another sunstorm was coming, or if the penetrating heat was due to the change in landscape. The brim of his hat shadowed his eyes and the back of his neck, but the sun penetrated his clothing and parched his skin. Perhaps he should hide under the blanket until nightfall.
    Focused on the sun, he didn ’ t notice the whiff of smoke until he stumbled into the empty camp. Startled, he froze, eyes on the rosy coals of a small campfire. No sign of cannibals. He scanned the scraggly plants, horizon to horizon. Nothing.
    Well, if they weren ’ t going to bother him, he wouldn ’ t bother them. He turned to the buttes on the horizon, but a tiny sob and intake of breath from the brush halted him. Someone was there. Something shivered against the earth, and he realized a person knelt next to a rounded bush, auburn-haired head to the ground, dirty rags of clothing blending in better than his blanket could.
    Now was not the time or place to be a Good Samaritan. But what if God was testing him? What if someone needed help? What if it was a trap?
    A whimper came again, and he stepped toward the figure. “ Do you need help? ”
    With a grunting cry, the form rocked back to a squat, and he saw it was a woman, belly grotesquely swollen in pregnancy. Her pained face told him all he needed to know. Her people had abandoned her to give birth alone.
    He ’ d only taken three steps toward her when a change in air pressure made him pause. A swirl of dust swept the hat from