“Stay where you are. It could be dangerous,” he whispered to Lana.
Spurious pushed on the massive frame of the door, but it wouldn’t budge. There was something blocking it from within the building.
“Damn,” he said, shoving his body against the frame of the door and pushing with all of his strength. The door moved slightly, but not more than a crack. Spurious stopped, wiping beads of sweat off his forehead.
“Be careful, Spurious. There might be nails.”
He walked down the alleyway, jumping over piles of wood, looking for something that could pry the door open. As he searched, a ray of sun finally broke through a cloud pattern and illuminated an object under a pile of trash. Spurious bent down, picking up a rusted piece of metal piping.
“This should work,” he whispered, inserting the pipe into the small crack. He pried the door back, creating a gap wide enough for them to slip in.
“Let’s go,” Spurious said, once again taking her hand and cautiously pulling her through the dark gap.
“It’s going to be dark in here,” Lana speculated, entering the dark building.
“That’s okay. I figured as much, so I brought a candle and some matches.”
The two stopped and Spurious reached into his knapsack, pulling out a large white candle and a small book of matches.
“Here, light this,” he said, handing her the candle.
The tiny flame quickly grew into an impressive orange blaze, illuminating the interior of the building. The inside was just as he remembered it; the walls lined with solid oak, not the cheap stuff that rotted after a solid rain. The first floor hallway was filled with broken lamp shades and pictures hanging loose from their hinges on the walls. On the floor were yellowed newspapers in front of the doors of residents now lost to the past.
A sense of nostalgia washed over Spurious, who stood staring down the ghostly hallway, his face turning pale.
“Are you all right?” Lana asked, noticing his quick change of demeanor.
Spurious shook his head. “I’m fine, I just haven’t been here for a long time and it brings back memories. Sorry, I didn’t realize it was going to have this effect on me.”
Lana squeezed his hand. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
He smiled. “It’s okay, really. I want to do this. I need to do this.”
The flicker of the candle illuminated the hallway, sending orange light dancing across the walls of the building. At the end of the hall a broken door leading to the stairs hung loosely off its hinges.
“Careful,” Spurious warned as they made their way through the open door. He stopped to examine the condition of the steps under the weak light. He didn’t want to end up falling through the stairway or breaking his leg on a step.
The stairway looked safe enough, and Spurious held the candle up farther, cautiously climbing the steps, guided by the orange glow. The first step moaned under the weight of his foot, but held. “I think it’s safe. Stay close."
Lana nodded and followed Spurious up the flight of stairs. By the time they had made their way to the third floor, his nervousness had mostly subsided.
“We’re almost there. Just one more flight of stairs and we’ll be there.”
“Do you think there will be anything left in your old flat?”
“We’re going to find out in a few seconds. Here, hold this,” Spurious said, handing the candle down to Lana, who stood a few stairs below.
He reached for the hallway door’s handle, twisting it with ease. Spurious swung the door open, swallowing a mouthful of musky air and breaking into a deep cough.
"Are you sure you’re okay?"
Spurious stopped in front of the hallway trying to regain his breath and make out the numbers on the doors simultaneously. "Yeah, I’m fine," he finally replied.
“Which one did you live in?” Lana asked, grabbing Spurious by his forearm softly.
“I’ll show you, follow me.”
The hallway was pitch black, with only the glow of the candle to guide them. The windows at both ends of the hallway had been boarded up and appeared to be spray painted black to prevent any light from coming in. Spurious examined the flat numbers door by door, each time raising his candle to the small black numbers. Some of the numbers had fallen off or were cracked, but Spurious knew he would recognize his old door when he saw it.
Halfway down the hall Spurious stopped, handing the candle back to Lana. Is this it? he wondered, rubbing the exterior of the wooden door with his hand.
“I’m home again, Lana!” Spurious exclaimed, nearly bumping the candle out of her hand with excitement. He reached for the handle, opening the door and revealing a dark and musty old room.
“Not exactly the way I remember it,” he said, taking a deep breath and entering the flat, with Lana close behind. The floor boards creaked loudly, prompting them both to jump in surprise. The aged wood was smudged with water stains, and thick cobwebs clung to the ceiling like white veins. Spurious continued to scan the room with his candle, but he knew there would probably be no trace of his former life. He kicked a pile of old newspapers and fliers that must have been left behind, nothing that would reveal anything about his parents.
“Well this is it,” he said, relieved in a way.
“What do you think happened to all of your old furniture?” she asked.
Spurious shrugged. “Repossessed by the CRK, stolen by stragglers. Who knows?”
The flat was simple, consisting of a living room and kitchen with two small bedrooms and a single bathroom branching off on the west side. Curiously he walked to his old bedroom first, excited to explore his old room.
He stepped over the door lying like a skeleton on the floor. Spurious craned his neck cautiously into the darkness, holding his candle high so the orange glow lit up the walls of the room with warm light.
In the east corner a small mattress lay on the ground. It was torn in the middle, guts of cotton pouring out like a nasty flesh wound. Mold had also found its way into the room and badly stained the mattress.
The west corner revealed a small wooden chest that was harnessed to the wall. He immediately recognized it and rushed over to an ancient box.
“This is where my parents used to keep all of their personal items. They must have thought they were safer in my room, because no one would have looked for them in here.”
Lana walked over to Spurious, putting her hand on his shoulder as he leaned down and opened the chest. It was empty, except for a cloud of dust that rose into the air, prompting Spurious and Lana both to cough.
He reached inside the box and felt around. Somewhere in the bottom was a secret compartment where he had seen his mother put coins, keys and other special items. His hand combed the smooth wooden bottom of the crate frantically until he found a small crack. Pulling out his pocket knife, he inserted the blade into the sliver and lifted up a small hatch, revealing a secret compartment.
“Wow, what’s that?” Lana asked, startled.
Reaching inside, Spurious felt around. His fingers came to rest on a small object. He froze, looking up at Lana.
"Well, what is it?” she asked.
Spurious slowly pulled out a small piece of paper, yellowed with age.
“What’s it say?” she entreated.
Spurious moved to the small bed, placing the candle on the ground. Lana hurried after him and sat cross-legged on the soft mattress. Through the warm glow of the candle light, Spurious read the note aloud.
“December 13, 2050
The Biomass Wars have ended life as I knew it. The countries I loved as a child have all but disappeared. All I can do now is pray for the souls of those caught up in the bloodshed and chaos that knows no boundaries.