I'm laying down, eating snow
My flesh is hot, his blood is cold
Walking in their spider web
I think of how to ruin myself

Absolute darkness. It isn’t so bad when you consider it. It has a little apocalypse vibe to it, especially when the only visible objects in this void is a flying police station and countless drones patrolling in the sky. Glowing ghosts in the obscurity of hell, or primitive fish swimming in the deepest part of the sea. It was frightening and captivating at the same time.

When the stupor following the black-out finally fade, the silence that took the city by surprise, slowly made room for rumors and bustle. Through the walls, I started hearing people walking and talking in the building. Some got out of their home to join the crowd gathered in the street.

Little by little, I caught glimpse of flashlights and candles in other apartments, their flare passing behind the windows. Humans are creatures of light after all. Of course it would the first thing they would seek for. I looked around, groping for a torch with no success. Then I remembered the oil lamp. Only for emergency... That’s probably what he meant. Several minutes of rummaging by feel, I hit upon a matches box and lit the lamp on. Much better.

I tested the heater and the light switches. No response. The fridge? Also down. I coughed. A shiver crawled down my spine. The room temperature was lowering again. I sat on the bed to think. Not an easy task with the after-effect of the gas attack and the medicine I was given wearing off. I was feeling really weak. I rubbed my face. My hair were still humid from the shower. I better dry that before I get sicker. I reached for the towel I left on the duvet and saw blood on my hand. But no injury. I touched my forehead. More blood wet my fingers.

I hadn’t noticed I had been bleeding all this time. The cut was on the top of my scalp. I grazed it and felt a little shard of glass stuck in my hair. I removed it and sponged the wound with my towel, questioning if I should bandage it or let it like that.

A loud horn outside cut my reflection off. The warning siren was deafening. When I saw through the windows a red aura filling the entire street, I immediately knew what was making that noise.

Above our block, a trio of drones were getting in position, overlooking at the crowd. Further away, I caught with disgust, a glimpse of the flying rats, hundreds of them, forming web in the sky, covering the entire city. What in hell!

“The town is now under emergency lockdown. Please go back to your home, while police investigate,” announced the bots all together in a gloomy artificial echo that flew throughout the town. “For your security, you are not permitted to circulate in the public space. You are not allowed outside of your home, until further notice from authority enforcement. Any attempt to break the lockdown, will be met with immediate actions.”

I started hearing complains rising in the street, as the drones were making their announcement. Listening to their displeasure, I was sensing the tension building up and its outcome if people resisted. A child suddenly cried somewhere. It pulled me out of my zone. Once again I had frozen. 

We won’t be allowed outside?

As I realized it, a panic seized me. With no electricity, there would be no basement heater. So no hot water. Meaning, the pipe would freeze again soon. And in those conditions, getting water would be extremely hard, and impossible if one wasn’t allowed to put a foot outside. No electricity. No water. You gotta be kidding me!

While the emotions were heating up as the bots continued their oppression, I dashed to the bathroom with all the recipients I had at my disposition, and filled them with water, to make reserve. I could melt ice with the oil lamp, but if the pipe froze again, I wouldn’t have anything to drink on the morning. Outrage was reaching a breaking point. I shook my head. I ignored it. All that mattered was that I gathered as much water as possible. Before...

BANG!

I spilled the bucket on the floor, startled by a sudden preventive shot. The revolt turned into panic. My heart in full rout, I caught back the bucket and restarted filling it, trying my best to stop shaking. Another detonation, some screams of fear and running away later, the streets were empty again and silent. I picked up some whispers and sobbing in the distance. “Mothafucker!” I muttered while filling my last canister.

I was trembling from head to toes, from fever and other emotions. I had a lump in my throat and I told myself it was from my sickness. Why would I want to cry? No way was I going to crack now. I stared at the water rising in the pot, determined to not avert my eyes, to not lose my focus. It’s just survival. I scowled at my reflection way after I had turned off the faucet. Sitting in the bathroom silently, observing the water waving and slowly getting still, my brain was running blank. Just for a short moment, I wanted this day to end.

Then I sneezed loud enough to scare a dog in the next building. The water rippled again. I sighed.

Dragging my feet on the floor, I returned to the bed, and wrapped myself in the blanket, exhausted. I sneezed again, this time holding it in. It triggered a series of strong coughs. I muted them in my pillow.

When it eventually calmed down, I massaged my sore ribs, and buried my head in the bed. I was ready to call it a night but I remembered something. “Crap…” I grumped. “We forgot the medicine.”

Outside, the drones were seamlessly floating above our heads, surveilling any move or trespassing. I closed my eyes, wishing that when I would open them again, they would be gone.

I slept for a bit. No dream. Just the profound state of slumber, my body being eager to get the most rest in the shortest time. I don’t know what woke me up - if it was on my own or a sound I picked - but I had my eyes wide open when the door of the studio unlocked and closed discreetly. I immediately jumped out of my bed, grabbing the nearest object for my defense. It wouldn’t have been really efficient, as a head appeared from behind the wall before I was completely on my feet.

“Uh… Did I woke you up?” murmured Oracio, dropping a bag on the floor to remove his shoes. He looked at me, confused, his eyes switching from my flabbergasted face and my improvised weapon. “I’m pretty sure you’re not going to hurt anythin’ with that,” he commented, pointing nonchalantly the towel I was holding. I dropped it instantly. “You should have kept the brick.” He carried the bag to the table.

“W-why are you back?” I watched him taking out what seemed to be dark stone pugs and a large thick tin can. “How did you get back with th… them” I indicated the window.

“I know how to fly under their radar…” he explained with a sullen expression while putting together what appeared to be a bracero. “But home was too far,” he turned to me. “Sorry, this was the closest place I could go.”

It’s your house, man.

Oracio pushed with his foot the inoperable heater and installed his new device instead. He placed one pug in the middle and set it on fire. The pug immediately burst into flames then lower down to a slow combustion, releasing a large localized amount of heat. I warmed my hand to it, welcoming the fire gladly.

“I collected some water earlier, before the pipe get occluded again.” I mentioned, feeling a bit calmer. 

“Smart boy,” wearily nodded Oracio, taking out of his pocket his cigarettes and another container. He seemed exhausted. The tip of my nose was cold. But my cheeks were hitching from the heat. I yawned. Oracio held his. “I got your medicine.” He threw a small paper bag at me containing two jars of pills.

“Please, tell me you didn’t return there,” I grimaced of horror to the idea he went back to the bombing site. He can’t be that brain-dead, can he?

“I didn’t.” Immediate relief. “I found some equivalent at the head quarter.”

“That’s where you went?” He bobbed, pulling out a cigarette paper, longer than the usual ones. I took one pill from each bottle and folded the paper bag, thinking it could be good to burn later. A surgeon mask fell out of it, on my lap. I picked it up.

“To replace the other one,” explained Oracio opening the container he took out earlier. He picked a small pinch of what seemed to be weed leaves and crumbled them in his sheet.

“Scared that I’ll infect you?” I mocked him while passing the string behind my ears.

“If that the case, you probably already have…” The flicker of a smile appeared on his face. Delicately, he started rolling his joint.

“And I thought idiots couldn’t get sick,” I adjusted the mask on my mouth. Bowing on his crafting, trying his best to not let it go, Oracio snickered and told me to fuck off, between two genuine laughter. I joined in. It felt good to laugh. It felt like it had been days.

In a better mood, Oracio finished to prepare his treat. Just out of curiosity, more for his reaction than the experience on itself, I asked him if he would let me try it. His smiled dropped straightaway. “No” was his only reply. He put the joint in his chest pocket and took out his phone. After a few rings, someone eventually picked up. “Hola… Dory? Yeah, it’s me…”

For the next ten minutes, he talked with his girlfriend, sitting on the window ledge, his eyes lost in the night and the snowflakes starting to fall. He reassured her that he was alright but couldn’t go to her. Then he mentioned me. “Yeah… he’s sick… I will… Kiss Nana for me. No, don’t wake her up, she’s going to be worr…” Ruffle on the line. “Hi, Nana...” Oracio started drawing on the window steam. “ Si… Si… Lo prometo… Tu también. Te quiero… Hi again… I know.” He quietly laughed. “Do you guys have enough food...? Ok… You all stay safe… The…? Wait, what did you say?” His ton changed. “Dorothy? You there?”

Oracio looked at his phone. “Damn.” He showed me his no-signal screen. “No more communication. They shut that down too.” Miffed, he put his device on the desk and sat next to the bracero. He was upset again.

“You really love her,” I couldn’t help but ask. He glanced at me quickly. He didn’t answer right away. The ember flares made his eyes trembled.

“I owe her my life.”

His voice resonated in the room. Lower than I had ever heard it before, taking me by the guts. I waited, unsure if I was allowed to ask for more.

“She was there when I was down. She picked me up and taught me to walk… To speak… To eat.” He closed his eyes. “She stood by me when I was nothing… and gave me everything.” He reopened them and fixed his burning iris on me. I looked away. So she is that great...

“She must have been pissed when you joined the Seagulls.” I spurted without thinking. Tactful, mate. Strangely, Oracio didn’t deny.

“She broke my jaw.” He laughed honestly, rubbing his face as if he was massaging an old wound. His expression became tenderer. “But her happiness is still my priority.”

I let that comment sit in briefly in my head, before coming back to it. “Does that include keeping me alive?”

Oracio only gave me an enigmatic smile as an answer. Really, that was all I would get? What a cheap ass. 

I was about to get back at him, when we heard a distant scream coming from the street, grasping both our attention. It was a plea. Interrupted now and them by an artificial voice. Oh no…

A man. Old from the timbre of his voice. “Please. I am going home! Please, no!” He was running away.

“You are not allowed to circulate without authorization. Please do not object arrest. Fleeing attempt is an obstruction of justice.”

The man continued to plea as his voice was getting louder. He was approaching our building. This was happening in our street!

“Oracio.” I got up to go see what was going on but he stopped me. His face! He didn’t want me to watch. The drone warning continued, asking the runway to stop his fleeing, while he was screaming he was almost home.

The man was just under our windows when I saw a flash of red light, followed by a sharp noise cutting the begging short. The scream that man pushed wasn’t even that loud. Just a clear gasp and nothing. The drone declared the problem was settle and returned to its position.

In the night, we heard a woman shrieking a tearful moan. Someone the victim knew? Someone just breaking down? I didn’t know. All this time, Oracio’s hand was holding on my jacket. He freed me eventually and I went to look.

Down the street, the corpse of a man in his fifty was lying in the snow, his blood spreading around him. My heart stopped when I saw him cough. “H…elp me…”

His weak voice rippled in the air, muffled by the snowfall. “Hel…plea…se.” He was weakening. He was dying. And before I had time to say it out loud, I was already walking toward the door. Oracio jumped on me to prevent me from living the apartment.

“He is still alive!” I shouted. “He is still…” Oracio tackled me against the door, telling me to come to my senses, his hand gripping firmly on the door knob. I fought him back. Stubbornly. But I was too sick and he was too strong. With his free hand, he pulled my arm behind my back, blocking me entirely, when suddenly a carmine glow illuminate again the space, followed by the frightened scream of a woman and a door being slammed. The light lingered for a while, the buzzing sound covering the last plea of the agonizing man.

When it finally cleared the air, the weak calling had turned silent. Only the wind and our nervous panting were left to hear. Carefully, Oracio released me. I let go of the door knob and stepped aside, feeling empty. We stayed still looking down, our breath steaming.

Then he kindly took my arm and led me back to the bed. He made me sit, put the blanket on my shoulders and sat next to me, drawing the joint out of his pocket. I watched him light it on, blowing gently on the head. He puffed twice on it, then, not without a slight hesitation, handed it to me.

Muddling, I accepted the gift. I draw a long puff, foretasted the flavor then swallowed it all. I immediately coughed it out. The feeling was unpleasant. Tickling and burning my lung already roughed up by my sickness. “Do it again,” told me Oracio, patting my back. I obeyed and puffed on it one more time. And another one. My fingertips started getting numb, my head heavy yet surprisingly clear. Oracio removed the joint from my fingers and slowly laid my head against his chest.

Without a word, he wrapped his arms around me. I felt his heart beats pulsing against my skin, merging with me. The vibration being so clear it made all my veins tingle. I was aware of his breath, moving each of my every hair, its buzz so loud, it rocked me. Under my finger tips, his blood was running. Millions of cells, flawlessly caught by my captivated mind. 

I plunged.

Only remained his warmth. And my raging crave for it. A heat stronger than any bracero or sun. A fire burning me, piece by piece, through and through. Dusting it all away to the very last bit of warmth.

Ah... Truly... Human bodies are really hot…