The ubran deconstruction crew
Jason stands on boxes stacked on the roof of a car, seemingly assembled from many different cars. Antennas and storage containers point in many directions. He is looking through binoculars.
Let’s try something new. Tell me what you think of it - and if you want more of it.
Jason stands on boxes stacked on the roof of a car, seemingly assembled from many different cars. Antennas and storage containers point in many directions. He is looking through binoculars.
The world around him is a mix of destroyed pavement, abandoned buildings, and lucky plants managing to survive in the area. The Volvo is the only car on the road. On its side, three trees in a yellow circle brand the car as the “Park Service, East.” Thick, white letters spell “Urban Deconstruction” right under the logo.
“Nothing is moving,” says Jason.
“Satellite says movement was identified to the north of your position,” answers Heydar.
“Which way is that?”
“Turn around.”
He spins, lazily. The view here is pretty much the same as the one to the South. A building that used to be a McDonald’s, still standing despite the elements. A tree is growing at the end of its parking lot. A car, fully rusted and wheelless, stands empty.
“This would be much easier if you’d give me a scanner,” grumbled Jason, trying to see if there was anything in the tree through the binoculars.
“That’d leave us blind elsewhere,” suggested Heydar, “plus you have eyes. Use them.”
Nothing moves. The wind blew, splitting the grass, swaying the tree.
“Could it be in the building?” asks Jason.
“Worth a check.”
Jason jumps down onto the gravel. He grabs the tranquilizer gun from the driver’s seat and a torch. With slow, lazy steps, he walks around the tail end of the car. He stops to check the peeling sticker he had just applied yesterday. “Argo.” “Fuck” he mutters, presses it down, and makes his way over to the building. The sticker slowly peels off.
“What did you say?” asks Heydar.
“Nothing.”
“Good, because that would’ve been a violation.”
Jason rolls his eyes. At least he is no longer bored.
He crosses the destroyed parking lot in a few moments. He walks around the car and finds nothing. Next, the entrance of the building. The glass door has an old sign, “Sorry, we’re closed.” He tries it.
“The door is locked.”
“Authorization to break it…” a momentary pause from Heydar, “…granted.”
Jason hits the glass of the locked door. It shatters, spilling across the ground. Something moves inside.
“I’ve startled something,” Jason’s voice shakes a little.
“Could be just rats.”
“Disgusting.”
He pushes the door open. Despite the light streaming in through the dirty windows, it is relatively dark. The torch clicks on. His breath is shaky. There might not be big animals here anymore, but human fear never goes away.
Dust had settled on the tables and the chairs over the decades. Yellow-green ads hang on the wall. Jason wipes the glass to see what is being advertised.
“I wonder what a fillet-o-fish tasted like,” he says.
“From what I know, pretty good.”
“Why’d we stop making them?”
“Not enough fish.”
“Ah, right.” Jason knew this.
He stalks his way through the McDonald’s. There are no plates on the tables. No rubble on the floor.
“This looks pretty clean for what it is,” Jason whispers.
“The owner probably cleaned up after closing up.”
“Maybe he thought he’d be back?”
“Or the bankers made him clean it. Check the kitchen.”
“Glad those animals died out.”
Jason approaches the counter. Steel machines, unrusted, gleam dimly in the torchlight. Footprints in the dust on the floor.
“Hey, I’ve got some footprints. Definitely not rat.” Jason is whispering, tense.
“What is it?”
“No idea. Let me grab the communicator.”
“Just make sure there’s nothing in there first.”
Jason hops over the counter. He approaches the footprints, crouching.
“These look pretty big. Not a small animal.”
“Those are the only ones potentially in the area.” Heydar is intrigued.
“Well, I’m looking at the prints. It could be bigger than a dog.”
“Let me check the database.”
Jason stands up. The footprints in the dust lead to the back of the kitchen. Hesitating, he takes a step to follow them. There’s light streaming in from somewhere.
A door, lower half broken off, lets in cold air from the outside. The linoleum floor has water damage. Looking through the hole, Jason can see the parking lot tree. Beyond it, more pavement and buildings.
“Looks like whatever it was ran away due to the noise.”
“How’d it get out?”
“Broken back door.”
“Alright, document the footprint and get going. Don’t miss dinner.”
The top half of the door is still locked. Jason crawls through the lower half on his hands and knees. Standing straight, he stretches out and yawns. The fresh air feels good after the dusty staleness of the restaurant. He looked at the tree.
“How come this tree grew here?” he asks, a little more relaxed.
“Nature.”
“Thought that’s why we’re doing our job.”
“Yeah, and nature will keep doing its own.”
Walking through the parking lot, the hair on Jason’s neck stands up. Leaves rustle. The wind picks up. He hears an extra sound. Something is wrong. He looks around.
Nothing.
“Feels like I’m being watched.”
“Nothing on my screen. You’re fine.” Heydar is reassuring, but tense.
Trying to keep his composure, he walks quickly to the car. He grabs the communicator and turns around quickly. Something is watching. But what? Nothing in the tree, on the top of the building.
“This feels haunted.”
“The faster you finish the job, the faster you leave.”
He jogs back to the front entrance of the restaurant. This time, he doesn’t jump over the counter. Aiming the communicator at the footprints from afar, he zooms in enough to make a discernible photo. Click.
Outside, he hears a noise. Clutching the tranquilizer gun, he slowly approaches the shattered door. He peeks around the wall. There’s an animal next to his car.
“I see an animal. Looks like a cat, but way bigger.” He’s whispering.
“How big?”
“It’d be as tall as me if it stood on its hind paws.”
“Document.”
Jason took a photo and sent it. His breath is halting. He is not used to fear.
“Querying the database.” Heydar’s voice is urgent.
Jason aims his tranquilizer gun, unsure whether he will be able to stop the creature or not.
“That’s a mountain lion.” Said Heydar.
“What the fuck?” Jason’s gun arm dropped.
“Exactly.” Heydar sounded almost excited. “We haven’t seen one in 350 years.”
“How is it here?”
“I’ve no idea.”
A moment of silence.
“But why here?”
“Looking for food, probably.”
“Am I dinner?”
“You could be.”
“Should I knock it out?”
“Your gun’s for dogs. You need a bigger tranq. Just wait her out.”
Jason’s breath got shallower. He has read about mountain lions. He thought animals like this didn’t exist.
“You sound almost excited.” Jason’s accused Heydar.
“I am, this is an insane find,” Heydar’s enthusiasm irks Jason.
“Even if I die?”
“You’ll be fine. Just stay hidden and she won’t realize you’re there.”
“But if she does.”
“Deep breaths, man, don’t panic. Remember, you were trained for this, too.”
Jason closed his eyes. He pictured being back in his hammock at camp. The stars visible in the sky. He takes a deep breath. One, two, three, four, five.
“I see her on the satellite. This is insane. We’re making history.”
Jason smiles. Maybe he was about to be on the news.
The mountain lion walks around the car, disappearing from view.
“What do I do if she doesn’t leave?” Jason’s hand goes white around the tranquilizer.
“She will. Just wait and don’t make her angry, or you will be dinner.”
“What if she wants to come back in?”
Another moment of silence. Is Heydar also panicking?
“Then you shoot the gun and hope it slows her down.” Heydar’s voice sounds tense.
Jason leans against the wall and slides down.
“I’ve requested backup for you. Just sit tight.”
Jason listens, trying to hear a cougar padding towards him. The silence fills him with a cold and spills into a shiver running down his spine.
“Talk to me.” He pleads.
“When we catch it, you’ll be famous.”
“You think Park would like that?”
Heydar doesn’t answer.
“Well, I think Park will like it.”
“Let’s leave our colleague out of it.”
Jason thumps his head lightly against the wall.
He’s going to be late for dinner. Parker wouldn’t see him, and he’d possibly end up dealing with a very big cat no one knows how to deal with. It’s cold in the building, just like it’s cold outside.
Goosebumps run up his arm. The jacket is in his car.
“What if I just shot her a few times?”
“You don’t need to, she’s leaving.”
“What?”
He peeks around the corner again. He can’t see it.
“Where is it?”
“She left.”
Jason stands, carefully looking through the door. The car is still there, door slightly ajar.
“Is she in the car?”
“No, she stalked away.”
Tree leaves rustle outside. The wind is picking up.
“Am I safe?”
“Yep.”
“Can I go to my car?”
“Yep.”
“Where did she go?”
“She wandered off, behind the buildings. I’ve lost her.”
“That’s way too easy.”
“I don’t know what to tell you, man.”
Jason takes a big breath, but a twinge of disappointment arises with it.
“So no news for us?”
“No. Animal control is on their way; they’ll track her. You did well.”
Jason runs to his car. Glad to be alive, but slightly disappointed. Being on the news didn’t sound that bad. Although not being dinner is nice too. He gets in, looking around. The car smells a little like a wild animal. He looks through the window, expecting it to jump at the car.
Silence. Everything sways in the wind.
The car starts quietly. The world seems to have embraced silence. He pushes the gas pedal.
“How do you know it’s a she?” he asks Heydar.
“All cats are girls,” said Heydar, matter-of-factly.
“Your cat is a male.”
“Pronouns are bullshit,” says Heydar. They both laugh, a little too loud, a little too much. The quiet moment feels emptier as the adrenaline wears off.
“I’m signing off. I’ll be in touch if anything changes,” says Heydar.
“Cool. Talk to you later.”
The communicator clicks off. The satellite stream, following the car, stops. The haphazardly installed screen goes off. Jason’s entire body feels the tension of survival. He breathes deep.
“Ground yourself,” he whispers.
The gravel of the Pennsylvania turnpike crunches loudly enough that Jason can hear it in the driver’s seat with the windows up. The sound tells him he is an hour away from camp. He doesn’t need a communicator to know.
The car accelerates through the abandoned suburbs. The view has been unchanged since he left the city: houses, overrun with dying weeds, hiding the horizon. Buildings reduced to rubble. The deconstruction crews are only an hour away, but have too much work before they get here.
The remodelled Volvo is quieter than he had expected. The combustion motor has been replaced with an electric one. The one before this was louder, vibrating lightly. He liked it. It had an old-school radio; he could listen to music or the weirdo survivalists, even cult stuff. The communicator on this one limits his “content” time. They’re changing the other car to be the same. Rebuilding cars turns out to be cheaper than making new ones.
He wonders if he’ll one day get to keep a combustion car. Or a motorcycle.
Jason shifts in his seat. He’s bored. Another hour before he sees the green, before work. Before Parker. Waiting is the worst part of this job. He reaches for the communicator to turn it on, but it beeps before he can touch it.
“Jason, where the fuck are you?” asks Simon.
“On my way, boss, had to stop for an animal check.”
“Hurry the fuck up. We’re out of matcha, and Parker needs his diabetes meds.”
“I can only drive so fast.”
"ETA?”
“One hour.”
“Fuck.”
Simon hangs up. The sun is starting to go down. It peeks through the gray sky, turning a sliver pink.
“WHAT THE FUCK?” shouts Jason. “I ALMOST FUCKING DIED YOU ASSHOLE FUCK YOU.”
The car shakes as Jason rages in it. He shouts, laughs, and screams. The car rolls on, jumping slightly as the sun sets.