“May I?” I asked, holding my hands out toward her.
The woman who’d been frantically bouncing her up and down quickly handed her over.
Creed furiously kicked her tiny legs and arms for a moment, giving uncomfortable grunts. But I placed my hand on her cheek and guided her head to my chest, softly rocking back and forth. I wrapped a blanket over her back and tucked it around her sides.
It took her a moment, but she slowly calmed, and a minute later, her eyes slid closed and she started breathing evenly.
Dr. Sun smiled and shook her head. “Amazing,” she said. “She’s been screaming for three days straight, and you get her to calm down instantly. Poor thing must be exhausted. She’s slept very little.”
I swayed side to side slowly, letting my lips rest against the top of her head. Holding her, it brought a stillness to my heart I hadn’t felt since before the Nova went off.
“Avian,” Dr. Sun said, a question in her voice. “We have not found a family for Creed yet. I know you’ve suffered a terrible loss, but…would you consider…?”
She knew what she was asking but didn’t quite have the guts to finish asking it. It was a heavy question, one that didn’t ask for a light answer.
“Yes,” I said, after only a moment’s hesitation. “I’ll do it.”
I’d only occasionally entertained thoughts of being a father before. Yes, I was twenty-six now and that was indeed an appropriate age to become a father, but I was raised in a very traditional family who had done things in the traditional order. Becoming a father was something that would come after the wife and other things did.
I’d gotten close.
But I’d lost the person I loved more than breathing and that was going to leave a very large gaping hole in my soul. But holding Creed, breathing in her faint baby scent, feeling her tiny cybernetic infused heart beat against my chest, that repaired the hole just a little bit.
I wasn’t quite ready to join the others for dinner that night. Instead, I ate it in my room while Creed slept in the portable crib at my side. I looked up when the door was pushed open.
“May I come in?” Gabriel asked, hesitating in the doorway.
“Of course,” I said, setting my plate aside.
Creed gave a soft coo, turned her head to the other side, and went back to sleep.
“I’m really glad to hear you’re adopting the child,” Gabriel said, sitting on my bed. “It seems fitting.”
I just nodded, brushing crumbs off my hands. “How is the rehoming continuing?”
“Well,” he said. “About sixty percent of the residents have been moved into new homes. We’re moving forward with the regulation store. Terriff is getting set up for planting next week.” It was impressive Terriff was still alive. He was Gabriel’s father-in-law, mute, half blind, but a master gardener.
“It has started to get warmer,” I mused. We would need gardening equipment and seeds outside the city. We would need to start planting our own garden soon.
Gabriel sighed, leaning back on his forearms. “I will admit, I’m not exactly looking forward to setting up the new garden. Do you remember how much work it was the first time?”
I chuckled and nodded. “It took us over a month just to get the fence up. It had taken us weeks to till the ground by hand.”
Gabriel laughed too, his chest bouncing up and down. “Do you remember how angry Eve would get every night when we had to take a few hours to sleep?”
This drew a smile from me as I recalled. “She would have stayed up all night, every night, if we would have let her. She was a stubborn, determined little thing, wasn’t she? Right from the beginning.”
“That she was,” Gabriel said. His eyes rose to the ceiling and his stance relaxed further. “I still can’t quite believe she’s gone. I never thought that would be possible. To be honest, I often wondered if she’d live forever, considering what her insides were made of.”
That was something I had pondered as well. Now we’d never know.
“Have we gotten any more reports from the outside?” I asked, needing to change the subject.
Gabriel sat forward, rubbing his hands together. “Our teams got out as far as Chicago, not that there is anything left of the city, before the radios lost contact. But as far as they’ve seen, they’re all dead.”
“Have they found any survivors?” I asked.
Gabriel shook his head, pressing his lips together into a thin line and they disappeared into his thick beard. “None.”
“We probably are the last human colony out there,” I said, leaning forward as well. “Aren’t we?”
Gabriel stood. “Impossible to tell, at least any time soon. But it seems likely.”
I nodded, my eyes falling to Creed’s sleeping form in the crib.
Gabriel crossed to the door and hesitated with his hand on the knob. “Don’t be surprised if more people end up wanting to move out of the city with you. Even with all it stood for, New Eden holds a lot of bad memories for quite a few people. A fresh start is an appealing interest for a lot of people.”
“What about you, Gabriel?” I asked. “Will you be leaving the city?”
“Not any time soon. For now, I’m needed here.”
We did still have our duties. Even when the apocalypse was over.
THE END AND BEGINNING
PART ELEVEN
The fog was starting to burn off by the time I got out of the shower. The power wasn’t running in our building yet, but the water was. Even if it was freezing cold. I dressed silently so I wouldn’t wake Vee. She slept peacefully, buried under a mountain of blankets.
I left Vee a note and walked the seven blocks back to the hospital. I entered through the front doors and listened for any signs of life. It was dead silent.
Figuring the only place I might find anyone awake was the dining area, I headed in that direction.
The area was completely devoid of life, except for one figure.
He sat at a table, his arms crossed on it, his eyes pressed into them. He looked exhausted, beaten.
“Avian,” I said.
His head jerked up and he looked at me with bloodshot eyes. “Hey,” he said.
I pulled out one of the seats at the table and dropped into it. I was still limping pretty bad from the damage done the day the Nova went off.
“I hear you have a daughter now,” I said, raising an eyebrow at him.
A small smile pulled at the corner of Avian’s mouth. “Yeah,” he said, rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Leah offered to watch her for a while so I could get some food gathered for the next few days.”
“So it’s true,” I said, feeling my chest tighten. “You’re leaving New Eden permanently.”
Avian met my eyes. There was weight behind them, tired and broken. “I can’t stay here.”
I nodded.
A long moment stretched between us, filled with silence and history.
“I want you to know that I’m glad you and Eve smoothed things out before…” he stumbled on his words. I had yet to hear him vocalize that Eve was dead. “She hated how things got between the two of you. And I’m sorry for how I was back then.”
“Hey,” I said, looking away uncomfortably. “It doesn’t really matter now. It’s in the past. It’s time to move forward.
“Yeah,” Avian said, emotion creeping into his voice.
Leah, Gabriel’s wife, stepped into the dining hall, bearing a fussy Creed.
“I think she’s tired,” Leah said, handing the baby off to Avian. She was wrapped in a fuzzy blanket and wearing a bright red jacket. It was so tiny I smiled.
“Thanks, Leah,” Avian said with a smile as the plump woman shuffled off. Avian held Creed cradled in his arms and softly swayed from side to side.