Five Months Ago

  The rhythm of Dax's feet pounding the pavement was a symphony of hope, not the frantic drumbeat of fear it would turn into. Now, he was chasing something in the distance, a dream he was desperate to reach. One thing was for certain, he wasn’t alone in his chase.

  “Dax, wait up!” He was so focused on his own thoughts he hadn’t noticed he was running a full sprint up the backside of the park, crunching leaves and his labored breathing echoing throughout the park. He turned towards the direction of the voice, an amused smile on his face when he faced Jace, the red faced, mirrored image trotting up beside him. Besides the boy’s more muscular physique, the two figures were identical, from their height to their boyish features.

  “Bro,” Jace pulled along his twin brother and collapsed, one knee falling to the ground. He grasped Dax's navy shorts with a sweaty hand, as if the grip would help create a stable enough crutch to support his tree trunk of a torso. “I know you are in your head a lot but you really need to focus up or I'll get an aneurysm.”

  Dax let out a bellowing laugh that reverberated off the trees. He was always told his laugh was one of his better qualities, that it always lit up a room. He did not know if it lit up a room for the right reasons though. His laugh was compared to that of a donkey and the rapper, Cardi B. Jace winced, “Damn bro you can't laugh in public like that, you are going to scare the kids,” he said, swiveling his head left and right.

  His amusement faded. “Come on Jace it has been a year now and the park is still as quiet as it was two weeks ago, children don’t even know of this place anymore. It’s a ghost town.” It was true, they were completely alone. The scene was a peculiar one considering the prominence of the park but within the last couple of months, this image was familiar. Even the luxurious pull of the park faded along with the green foliage that had turned a golden brown due to all the water now siphoned for emergency usage.

  Jace stood and grabbed Dax's face, his rough hands enveloping his face. “It doesn’t matter. What if there were kids? Do you really want to be responsible for the damage?” Jace flashed his radiant smile and cuffed his brother’s head twice. Dax shook him off.

  “Knock it off jackass. Let's get going, you’re slowing us down. I want to get home before it gets too dark.” He rubbed the spot Jace hit him and continued forward, beginning a brisk stride.

  “Yeah and if I was faster than you, I would take all the glory of being the more attractive and athletic twin.” Jace grinned, “And to take all the good qualities is not fair to you,” He winked and Dax clenched his teeth and strangled a retort. Jace had a point. He was the more attractive brother and always was the center of many admirers. Unlike Dax who joked that he was God’s leftover parts from making Jace. Even now, sweaty and red faced, Jace’s brown hair was flawlessly parted and the sweat had his clothes clinging to his muscular physique.

  Dax spared a glance at his own clothes and frowned. The same brand, same size and he looked like a kid playing dress up. People commented that he looked like his father with his lean figure and messy curls. He did not know if that was true but it was not a compliment he appreciated.

  “You done?” Dax asked unamused. “If you are, we have a couple of miles left to go” his eyes dropped to his watch, a mixture of dark walnut and raven black metal that loosely fit over his wiry wrist. The golden hands were showing the time was 5:54.

  Damn, four minutes slower today.

  “Hey OCD boy, what was the time today?” Dax closed his eyes and muttered a silent prayer. Jogging was Dax’s way to unwind, calm his thoughts. Jace’s banter distracted him and his patience was fraying. They didn’t jog often together. Jace was more inclined to lift weights than engage in cardio. This run was enough reason to remind Dax why his little brother (by ten minutes) was not commonly invited.

  “Your fat ass slowed us down by four minutes today,” he exclaimed, roughly pushing his brother away, or trying to anyway. The big bastard didn’t budge an inch which only made him more frustrated. “And it is not OCD, we would have been at a good pace if you didn’t stop me you damn ape.”

  “Wow I am flattered you think I resemble a gorilla? With compliments like that I am not sure how you have not found a girl yet,” Jace’s voice drawled with a fake lisp. “I would fall for you on site,” Dax only turned and sprinted ahead. If Jace was going to continue to irritate him, he would leave him in the dust. Moments later, the sound of loud footsteps slapping the concrete and exasperated breathing followed closely behind.

  While they ran, the sun fell behind the buildings that towered over the park, stray rays of sunlight illuminating the brown canopy into a golden glow. Even with the deteriorating conditions and the overgrown sidewalks, Central Park still captivated Dax. Every season was a new experience, one to marvel at and appreciate. As soon as you stepped onto the winding pathways through the park, you were transported out of the city and the constant motion of the urban environment stilled. Even the earlier frustration seeped out of him. You couldn’t help but be pleasantly in the present. “It’s a shame no one comes here, too much beauty to overlook” Dax muttered aloud.

  Jace groaned. “Don’t get all weepy on me yet. Besides this is nothing compared to the national parks we will see.” The stocky brother slowed to a trot and veered onto a different path, a smile gracing his face. Anytime national parks were mentioned, Jace entered a trance and became lost in his own thoughts.

  Dax checked his watch once more, 5:57 so that means...ok we should be getting home by 6:30 if we quicken our pace. Satisfied with the plan, Dax turned to follow suit. He quickly caught up to the brother, running alongside him, their footsteps eventually falling in sync. They ran in silence for a while, enjoying the beauty they passed throughout the park. Jace’s fingers rubbed amongst themselves and Dax instinctively slapped his shoulder.

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  “Try not to pick your hands, they are looking pretty beaten up.” Jace winced and his hand retreated to the pocket of the worn down orange sweatshirt.

  “Man lay off…you know I try,” the brother said through labored breaths.

  “Well you have to try harder because you have a serial killer's hands.” Jace pulled his hands out and Dax couldn’t help but cringe. Near the finger nail, the skin was visibly torn back and gouged in little strands stained with dry blood from excessive picking and scratching. It was a coping mechanism for Jace, one that he had performed since they were children. His fingers were scarred and his nails were half the length they used to be due to the habitual practice. Jace slowed.

  “Maybe I am a serial killer. I mean I have a mental deficiency and I am one stressed out moment from snapping” His wide eyes slowly shifted to his brother, the large hands moving to his neck.” Dax swatted his hands away.

  “Cut it out,” Dax chuckled and moved a step away. “Seriously, you psycho, no girl is going to want to hold those disgusting hands.”

  Jace laughed, grinning with a radiant smile larger than life. “I have had no problem with ladies, trust me on that.”

  A surprising amount of anxiety hit Dax, forcing him to stumble a step, stopping completely in front of a row of brown shrubs that grew onto the trail, the plant a skeleton of its former glory. The thin and crispy branches reached towards the boys, a desperate plea for water. His eyebrows rose slightly in question. Jace crossed his arms defensively. “It's true Dax! I found myself a real dime.”

  “And who would this lovely lady be, Jace? Are you sure you aren’t having another episode?” Dax gave a smile that he knew didn’t reach his eyes. He was only slightly joking. With Jace’s attractiveness, a girlfriend wouldn’t be too much of a surprise but if he didn’t take his medication, it could be the start of something more troublesome.

  “Screw you and you know a gentleman never tells” Jace shook his head. “Even if I were to tell you, you wouldn’t know her. She goes to another shelter.” Anxiety dropped a level. Typically, Jace’s fictitious characters he created when off his medication forewent any physical living location. They were usually only a name, gender, and had minimal characteristics like size or hair color. Still, why hadn’t he heard of this mystery girlfriend until now? Jace shared everything with Dax. It was peculiar.

  “Oh yeah?” Dax’s eyebrows shifted, skepticism still etched on his face. “You must be the gentlest man I've ever met. What shelter does she reside in, Mr. Sinatra?” Jace frowned.

  “Number 83, in the West Bronx,” he retorted with a calm expression. Any nervousness Dax had felt evaporated the moment the bunker number left his mouth. Dax threw back his head and let out a bellowed war cry of a laugh.

  “Number 83? You mean the safest shelter in New York? Get the hell out of here Jace, no one from bunk 83 would fall for gutter trash like us.” he explained, succumbing to laughter once again.

  Jace was definitely not going through an episode but he had created a very baseless lie. Bunker status was a big deal in New York and out of the 86 shelters, 83-86 were the ones that hosted the elites. The higher the numerical value, the better the shelter. Bunk 86 was encased in the former shell of what was once Yankee Stadium. While Jace’s made up girlfriend lived in 83 which was situated nicely in the Bronx Zoo. The bunker was surrounded by a large amount of trees that hid the shelter. Not to mention, the large quantities of water and wildlife provided emergency rations for its inhabitants if push came to shove. It was a camouflaged safety net for the rich and famous to hunker down and outwait the supposed end of the world.

  They resided in shelter number 2 or the sorry excuse of a bunker given to the ones who fell below the socioeconomic median. This would be minorities, orphans, homeless, and other “less desirables.” It was the earlier prototype being the 2nd bunker constructed in New York, meaning it lacked significant technological improvements. The door was proof of that fact. It was an antique bank door that used to be the entrance to the restaurant “The Capital Grille.” It was an old cast iron slab that was inverted inwards to lock the inhabitants inside in case of a bombing. A large six-prong handle wheel was used to close up the bunker. If a bomb did go off, the door didn’t stand a chance. It was one of the many reasons Dax and Jace explored New York freely, not staying captive in the shelter, waiting for the end. In fact, most of bunkers 1-5 had residents who never stayed indoors besides when they needed to sleep. They knew they were doomed regardless of a fallout.

  “Think of the children, Dax!” Jace retorted, his face a shade of crimson. “And do not laugh at me, I can take you there right now if you want!” Jace defended. Dax continued walking, his laughter carrying over the beautiful arching Bow Bridge they passed. It had once been an icon of Central Park with its pearlesque white stone being vividly reflected in the clear pond that streamed underneath. Now, the pond it had once crossed was dried up. It was replaced with muddy puddles and the occasional piece of trash entrapped in the brown sludge, accompanied by a swarm of flies that circled the rancid smelling pool of water.

  “I am tempted but considering it is getting dark and we are almost into Hell's Kitchen, I am going to have to pass on meeting this imaginary girlfriend. Thanks anyways.” Dax chuckled softly. Final rays of warmth settled behind the buildings surrounding the boys. Light posts that used to flicker to life, sat dormant. Power was now being rerouted to bunkers and public street lighting had been cut off. “Besides, we should get back before it is too dark and get settled in. Your meds need to be taken soon too.”

  “You don’t have to fucking remind me, Dax!” Dax stumbled a step, surprised by the outburst. He recovered and looked at Jace, his eyes downcast. Dax’s fist curled and he shook his head in disappointment.

  “You forgot again didn't you?” Jace’s thumb resumed picking at his index finger, peeling off a strand of loose skin. Jace did not have to say anything, the picking said it all. Dax did his best to reign in his frustration, it wouldn’t help, it never did. “Jace, it is ok. You just have to be more focused when it comes to taking that stuff, set a timer like I showed you.”

  “You don’t understand, Dax! This shit is more annoying than birth control! Two times a day, at the same time for the rest of my life, it is exhausting. I don’t have the OCD you have,” Dax rested his hand on Jace’s shoulder and forced his misty golden flecked hazel eyes to lock with his own.

  “I know it is, dude, but you need to set an alarm or a watch, or tattoo it to your hand.” Jace rolled his eyes and Dax gave a small grin, “Relax, that is why you have me and your built-in alarm clock isn’t going anywhere.” The sentence was supposed to reassure Jace but his shoulders tensed instead. He shrugged off Dax and walked forward.

  “Let’s just get to the shelter fast.” Dax watched the frame of his brother stock down the path and he silently nodded. Jace was anxious when he was off his medication but so was Dax. He would be fine for a couple of hours but Jace could be triggered easily when unmedicated.

  “Still have a little gas left to pick up the pace?” Dax asked. Jace only nodded, his sweat soaked hair shifting across his shining forehead.

  “Yeah, let's do it, besides all this running has gotten me hungry,” he shined his politician smile at Dax. It was a good attempt to switch the mood but he couldn’t fool his twin. Even with his hand in the sweater, the small jostling of his pocket spoke volumes.

  Quickly, they left the lushness of the park behind them and started to enter the city of New York, the city of darkness.