The Sky When I Opened My Eyes
When I opened my eyes, I saw sky instead of a ceiling.
Gray clouds hung low, and dust kept drifting down from somewhere I couldn't place. My lips were cracked; I tasted blood. My body felt heavy. My right side throbbed. I pressed my hand there and found the fabric torn. Blood or dust — I couldn't tell which.
"Haa..."
The sound came out quieter than I'd expected.
Where the hell am I?
I looked around. Collapsed building debris lay scattered in every direction — chunks of concrete, rusted rebar, shattered glass. Somewhere in the distance, a crow-like bird cried out. There was no sound of people.
I pushed myself up slowly. The world spun. I planted a knee and waited for the dizziness to pass, then dug through my pockets. Not a sip of water. All my fingers found was a rusted shard that might once have been a knife.
"Fuck..."
The word slipped out under my breath.
When had the Collapse hit? I couldn't remember exactly. At first people had started dropping in the streets, and the men had died strangely, one after another. The hospitals seized up almost immediately. The broadcasts went dead. After that it was just chaos. I'd hidden in a basement and waited it out. How long, I had no idea. Days. Weeks.
I got to my feet and started walking. Glass crunched under my shoes. My throat was raw, and my stomach had gone numb a long time ago.
One alley later, the wreckage of a small convenience store came into view. The shutter was half open. I stepped inside. The shelves were almost empty. A refrigerator lay on its side, giving off a sour smell. Still, a plastic bottle had rolled into a corner. I cracked the cap and sniffed. Water. One swallow, and the burning in my throat eased a little.
That was when I heard it behind me.
Rustle.
I turned.
A woman. Short hair, a jacket caked in dust. Mid-twenties, maybe. An iron pipe in her hand. Her eyes had gone wide, locked on me.
For a moment we just stared at each other.
She opened her mouth.
"...A man?"
Her voice shook.
I didn't answer. The hand on the pipe twitched. Run or fight — my mind raced through both. She took a step closer. The distance shrank.
"Are you... really a man?"
Lower this time. Her eyes were strange. Wary, yes — but also checking something, confirming something. A look I'd never seen before.
"Say something."
I raised my hands slowly.
"Put the pipe down first."
She hesitated. She didn't lower it all the way. Instead she looked me up and down, her gaze catching on my collar, then my face, then traveling over my body again. The way she looked at me made my skin crawl.
"How old are you?"
The question came out of nowhere. I frowned.
"Why does that—"
"Tell me."
Short. Flat. Her grip on the pipe tightened. She didn't look like she wanted a fight. But she was strangely insistent.
"Thirty-two."
Her expression froze for a second. Her mouth opened, then closed. She muttered something I couldn't quite catch.
"...It's real."
I took a step back.
"If you've got water, can you spare some? Take whatever else I've got — I won't stop you."
She didn't answer. She just kept looking at me. The stare was sticky, clinging, as if I weren't a person at all but something else entirely. Then, abruptly, she set the pipe on the ground. Metal rang briefly against concrete.
"Follow me."
She turned and started walking deeper into the alley. I hesitated. Following her could be dangerous. Then again, it might be better than being alone. If I could get more water out of it, at least.
I trailed a few steps behind.
Two alleys later, a stairwell led down into the basement of a small commercial building. She went first. I followed. It was dark. A flashlight clicked on, revealing a cramped space. Blankets, cans, water — piled in a rough heap. Someone had clearly made this a shelter.
She handed me a bottle. I took it and drank, longer this time. I could feel my throat coming back to life.
"You alone?"
She nodded.
"The ones I was with left a while ago. As for men... there never were any."
That last sentence landed strangely.
"Never were any?"
She stared at me. Her lips parted, then closed again. Like she'd started to say something and thought better of it.
"How long have you been wandering around out there?"
"I don't remember well. I just... kept moving."
She sighed, grabbed a blanket, and tossed it at me. I caught it and draped it over my shoulders. It smelled like dust, but it was warm.
"Stay here tonight. You can leave tomorrow."
With that, she sat in the corner, back against the wall, knees pulled up. I sat on the opposite side. Neither of us spoke. The silence stretched.
As the night deepened, wind from outside seeped in through the basement entrance. It wasn't cold, exactly. But my nerves were wound tight. I could feel her watching me the whole time. Even with my eyes closed, even turned away, that gaze seemed to land on my back.
Sleep didn't come easily.
I woke before dawn. My body felt lighter. She was still asleep, the blanket pulled up to her nose. I got up quietly and took another swallow of water, then stuffed two cans into a scrap of cloth that passed for a bag. No guilt. Surviving came first.
I was heading up the stairs when I heard movement.
I looked back. She was awake, sitting up with the blanket around her shoulders, watching me. I couldn't read her face.
"Leaving?"
"Yeah."
She stood slowly and came toward the stairs. The distance closed. I stepped back, and she reached out first, catching my wrist. She wasn't squeezing hard. But she didn't let go.
"Wait."
Her voice was rough with sleep.
"Are you... really thirty-two?"
"I am."
She bit her lip. A beat of silence — then she pressed herself against me. Her chest touched my arm. I felt the warmth of her body and pulled away on instinct.
"What are you doing."
"Checking."
She said it low. Her eyes unfocused for a second, then locked back on. Her hand caught my collar. The pull was stronger than I expected. My back hit the wall. Narrow stairwell. Nowhere to go.
"Let go."
I twisted my wrist. She winced, but she didn't release me. She came closer instead. Close enough that her breath touched my throat. A small sound escaped her. Her hand slid toward my abdomen, and through the clothes I felt her skin against mine.
"Are you insane?"
I shoved her with my arm. She stumbled, but she didn't fully back off. Color had risen in her cheeks. Her eyes looked wet. It was a strange reaction — not wariness, not greed, something closer to thirst.
"I just... wanted to touch you."
The mutter reached me.
"It's been so long since I saw a man this close."
The words stuck in my ear, strange and lingering.
I pushed harder. She dropped onto the stairs below, the blanket sliding off her shoulder. I turned my head so I wouldn't see. Then I took the stairs two at a time. The air outside was cold.
Her voice called after me. I ignored it and cut into an alley. I ran. I ran until my lungs burned.
Only after a long stretch did I stop, back against a wall, gasping. My heart was hammering. The place where her hand had been still seemed to hold a faint heat.
"What the fuck..."
The words leaked out.
Strange woman. Suddenly trying to touch me. And that line about it being so long since she'd seen a man up close. I knew a lot of men had died after the Collapse. The broadcasts had said so. I'd seen it myself. But was it worse than that?
I shook my head. This wasn't the time to think. I needed more water. Food. Somewhere safe.
I started walking again.
Around midday, I ran into more survivors.
Two of them this time. Both women. One carried a short spear; the other had a bow slung across her back. The moment they spotted me from a distance, they dropped into a defensive stance. I raised both hands.
"I'm not looking for a fight. I'll just pass through."
The one with the spear stepped forward. Around thirty. Sharp eyes.
"Stop."
I stopped.
She approached slowly. The spearpoint was still aimed at me, but her gaze kept sweeping my face, my body — the same reaction as the woman before.
"Age."
Out of nowhere.
"...Thirty-two."
Her brow twitched. She traded a quick look with the archer behind her, some silent exchange passing between them. I eased a step backward.
"I don't have anything. Just let me through."
The spearwoman spoke.
"Come to our camp."
No room in her tone.
"I'll pass."
"Doesn't look like you're in a position to refuse."
The spearpoint came a little closer. I clenched my jaw. I didn't like my odds in a fight. My body still wasn't right, and these two looked like they worked as a pair. Running might be the better play.
Then a strange sensation brushed through me.
The spearwoman's body twitched, just slightly. Her eyes widened, as if she'd suddenly felt something. The archer's expression changed too. The way both of them looked at me shifted — not wary anymore, but checking, confirming.
I didn't waste the opening.
I spun and bolted into the alley behind me. Shouts followed. Footsteps. But I was already squeezing through the wreckage, ducking behind a collapsed wall. I held my breath.
The footsteps came close, receded, came back. I stayed hidden a long time. At last the presence faded completely.
I crawled out slowly. My heart was still racing. I had no idea what that sensation had been. Why the women had suddenly changed. Something had shifted when I got close — I was sure of it.
I shook my head. Not the time to analyze.
The sun had started to sink. The sky bled red. More dust in the air. I picked up my pace. I needed somewhere to spend the night.
I found a ruined apartment building. The first floor had caved in, but a stairwell to the second was still intact. I climbed it carefully, picked a room with an open door, and went in. Dust lay thick on everything. Through the window I could see the silhouettes of other buildings in the distance. No lights.
I sat in a corner, cracked a can, and ate. No taste. I just chewed and swallowed. A little water. I saved the rest for morning.
My back found the wall. Exhaustion hit all at once. I closed my eyes. Sleep still wouldn't come.
The looks those women had given me kept surfacing. A man?Are you really a man?It's been so long since I saw a man this close. Every one of them snagged in my mind.
It was true that a lot of men had died after the Collapse. But surely it wasn't...
I shook my head. I was overthinking it. There just weren't many survivors, that was all. I'd gotten lucky. Nothing more.
I told myself that and closed my eyes.
Right before sleep took me, the strange sensation brushed through again. A faint heat rising somewhere in my body, then gone. I had no idea what it was. Figured I was just tired.
Wind moved outside. A little dust came in through the window. I pulled the scrap of cloth over my face like a blanket.
Tomorrow I'll go farther.
Alone was fine. Surviving came first.
That was the last thought I had before I let go of consciousness.
The night deepened.