The town was silent and still, as if dead. Even if one were to wait and listen intently for anything, not a single chirp would be heard, not the soft rustle of the leaves or the gentle passing of the wind. Time no longer existed—the town was motionless, like it was only a painting, devoid of life, destined to show only what it showed then and there. Most disturbing of all was the lack of any people. It left a horrible atmosphere about the place. If something were to happen, even something so mundane as a plastic bag drifting about, it would lend itself to some feeling of being alive. But without the presence of anything at all, the town could only be described as uncanny. The vacant houses, the empty streets, the thicket of trees lining the edge of the road, they all seemed to be screaming without making a sound.
Then, intruders arrived. Their footsteps crept in quietly, gradually growing louder and louder, breaking their way into the stillness of the painting. And finally, three figures appeared on the horizon, just at the road on top of the hill that oversaw the rest of the town. Each of them had a large backpack slung over their shoulders, filled to the point of bursting with an assortment of items: canned foods, toothbrushes, duct tape, and heaps of various clothing items. The three figures trudged down the hill with their heavy loads before arriving at the main street, the street with the most homes, which appeared to stare at the trespassers eerily. The boys paid the houses no mind; they carried past the dwellings without much more than distrustful glance, almost like they were actively ignoring them. Only one showed any real acknowledgement, the boy in the back, the smallest and youngest of the group. His name was Noah, and he gave each residence a forlorn look with every passing.
They continued down the middle of the asphalt road without a word said between any of them, the motionless nature of the town infecting their leader with grim caution; he was the tallest boy walking in front of the other two, watching his surroundings warily, expecting nothing yet something to appear. After all, the town was not decrepit, not enough time had passed for the wilderness of vines and plant life to overtake the streets and buildings, most houses had their front lawns recently trimmed and the environment seemed well enough to house a thriving ecosystem. Surely something would appear, a human or at least an animal would come about the party anytime then, because it would be unnatural if that weren’t the case. But the town stood still. And all three of them were aware that there would be nothing and no one. Perhaps that was to their relief. Or perhaps they were hoping that something, anything would jump out at them. Neither option was comforting.
Eventually, they reached the end of the road. What met them there was a white void, the end of the world, as if God Himself had sliced off the rest of the earth with His finger, leaving only a slice of land left. Right there at the edge was a quaint little house painted a garish shade of pink, positioned precariously along God’s carving, only a hair’s width away from its foundation being suspended in air over the edge of the end of the world. The boys stopped there, the leader of the three taking a curious and cautious look down the white void where he saw nothing but nothing before returning his attention to the house which stood modestly in front of them.
He watched as Noah stepped onto the white porch and in front of the oak door, adorned with a shiny, brass knob. Just below the door was a worn-out rug that read in faded letters, Welcome. Several pairs of shoes littered the veranda, ranging from a small pair of pink shoes and sandals to several rugged work boots that were covered in mud. Noah kneeled down and reached into one of the work boots, and as he had hoped, there he found a silver key, just where it had always been. With that, he inserted the key into the knob and entered the home, the two other boys following behind.
The inside was normal, the main doorway leading into a living room with a small kitchen on the other side. Noah set his bag on the ground and somberly peered at the numerous framed photos adorning the mahogany desk along the living room wall. The leader instructed the last boy to rifle through the kitchen pantry before proceeding to kneel down next to Noah.
“Are those your parents?” he asked, pointing towards a photograph of a smiling family, one of which being a much younger-looking Noah.
Noah nodded, staring at the photo wistfully.
The two said nothing for a moment, until the leader finally spoke. “We could take these with us, if you’d like. Our sleeping space is looking a little barren, I think, and maybe some decor could help. These’ll look nice by the windowsill.”
“Oh, but I haven’t got any room left in my bag.”
“That’s alright. I’m sure I could fit some in.” And the leader made a great effort to place the frames in his bag. However, none could fit in the already jammed bag, which was only barely able to keep the supplies near the top inside. Try as he might, attempting to push the supplies further down to the bottom only caused a concerning crack to fill the room, which when investigated, revealed a toothbrush that had been snapped in half. “Christ,” the leader muttered.
He turned his attention back to the kitchen. “Mal,” he called out. “Have you got any room left in your backpack?”
Mal poked his head out from the wide-open pantry doors. “No. I could leave some food behind, if you want me to.”
The leader shook his head. “We need to get all the perishables around town before they spoil. And I don’t think Schaffer would appreciate you doing that much.” He crossed one arm across his chest and bit his thumbnail, a habit of his when he was thinking.
Noah, who presently seemed embarrassed to have caused all the fuss, quickly interjected before the two others could work their heads around the dilemma. “It’s really alright, Dell,” he said. “There’s no point in hauling them around. I don’t need them.”
“Are you sure? I mean, it’s your family and all. You probably miss them.”
“I’m sure,” he lied. His face expressed none of his sadness.
The leader gave Noah an incredulous look, though ultimately deciding to believe him. “How about you then, Mal. We could stop by your house so you could pick up your belongings.”
“No,” Mal said softly. “There’s nothing I want, and I don’t think we should focus too much on our past lives anyway.”
“Why not?”
“Well, because we’re all going to die soon.” Mal stopped shoveling food out of the pantry. “We should enjoy ourselves while we’re still here, I think. Instead of crying about everything.”
An uncomfortable reticence washed over the three. Noah, who had already been very depressed, gained no improvement on his condition after hearing those words. The boy was only fourteen, and the distress of recent events was too much to bear at such a young age. And he stared back at the photos, thinking that if he were to die like Mal said, then he’d like to see his family one last time.
Dell, noticing Noah’s melancholy, took a deep sigh. “How pessimistic. You’re scaring Noah, you know.”
“Oh. Sorry.” Mal returned to his scavenging task.
Dell gave Noah a pat on the back. “Chin up. We all miss our parents. I’m sure you’ll see them again soon.”
Although Noah was certain Dell could not know for sure the things he was saying, he still felt reassured. It was easier to be comforted even with lies. And with a newfound confidence, Noah stood up. “I’ll carry the photos by myself,” he declared. He scooped every single frame into his arms and marched out of the house.
When Noah was long out of earshot, Mal spoke. “I did mean what I said in a more optimistic way.”
“What’s so optimistic about it? You said we’re all going to die.”
Mal passed by Dell and headed towards the door, walking slowly as to not falter under the weight of his bag. “That was just my guess. Maybe it will happen. Maybe it won’t.”
He stopped before leaving. “And dying isn’t so terrible. It’s not as if we were all immortal before all of this happened. The best we can do is keep on living, even if we’re all going to die regardless.”
“I suppose I can agree with that sentiment.”
The trio passed the end of the world, back up the empty neighborhood streets, silent once more until they reached the hill that overlooked the rest of the town. Their figures disappeared under the horizon, and soon their footsteps as well gradually faded out. Then, they were gone, as if they had never been in the first place, and the town became still once more.