How?

Ash remembered, vividly, the first time he’d stepped out of the Dark Star and into the New Seattle of 2075. It was one of his favorite memories, how the blazing light had nearly burned his eyes, how he’d strained his neck trying to lean back far enough to see the tops of the skyscrapers. Everywhere he’d turned, he’d seen some new, fantastical thing: cars that looked sleek and fast as airplanes; people dressed in the strangest, most extraordinary clothing; buildings clustered so closely together they were practically on top of one another. The Fairmont hotel had been at the center of all that, the old building an elegant contrast to all that was sleek and new.

He’d had to throw his hands over his ears because everything was so loud and still he’d been grinning. Because the future was overwhelming and messy and wonderful. It had been scary, yes, but also exhilarating. Life had seemed to get bigger than he’d ever thought possible.

He had the opposite feeling now, staring out over this dark, dead city. Life hadn’t gotten bigger.

Life had rotted and died.

Eventually, Ash found a door. It rose up from the darkness so suddenly that he actually slammed into it and then stumbled backward a few steps, forehead smarting from the impact. He fumbled for it again and, this time, his fingers wrapped around the cool metal of a doorknob.

He pulled, and the entire door snapped off at the hinges, creaking forward and slamming into the ground before him with a thud that vibrated through the dirt.

Ash hesitated, staring into the black. He tried to calculate where he was standing based on where he was relative to the old Fairmont hotel and realized, with a start, that he must be standing on the docks outside of the Dead Rabbit.

It felt like he’d only just been sitting at the bar inside, watching the bartender build a tower out of matchboxes. The thought sent a chill through him. Should he even go inside? Would it be safe?

He looked over his shoulder, into the eerie darkness of this dead, futuristic world. At least, inside, he might find something to burn.

Swallowing hard, Ash ducked through the door. The smell of something old and musty rose up around him. He tried his best to breathe through his mouth but, still, the smell persisted.

And something was dripping. The sound came at even intervals, like it had been timed. It bounced off the walls and echoed over itself until Ash didn’t know if it was coming from right beside him or deeper inside.

And then, from outside, a light.

Ash stood, frozen, as the light came closer.

45

Dorothy

MAY 2, 2082, NEW SEATTLE

Roman landed the Black Crow on the docks outside of the skeletal remains of the Fairmont. Dorothy found herself morbidly curious, her gaze drawn to the old hotel’s rotting walls and broken windows. And so it was a relief when the ship kicked up a plume of black ash that blackened their headlight, sending them plunging into darkness again. Anything to block her view of the Fairmont.