It was another hot day in the marketplace. Booths and stands filled the town's plaza but the crowds were small this afternoon. Sonja sold the last of her berries and vegetables to a hungry fellow and decided to close up show since business was slow. She and her teenage son, Miller, began taking down their booth. The scorching rays of the sun hit them when they dismantled the tent. It had been such a relief to be in the shade!
A pale, naked man with a long penis approached them as they loaded their stuff onto their wagon. Like him, Sonja and Miller were also nude. She was a thick, muscular woman with shoulder length dark blonde hair and her skin complexion was tanned and brown. She wasn't fat or chubby, she just had curves and muscles in all the right places. And she was tall, standing 5'10" in height. She had large breasts, big nipples, and a big, curvaceous butt. Her thighs and calves were huge and muscular.
Her son was also tall and tanned but strangely he was scrawny.
After sliding a crate onto the wagon Sonja looked at the man and asked, "How can I help you?"
"Are you Sonja?" he asked hesitantly.
"I am."
A beat passed before he replied, "I was told you're a guide. That you'll take people places for a price."
Sonja nodded, approaching him slowly. "That's correct. Where do you want to go?"
"I've heard rumors, legends of a modern city in these parts. . .that's my destination."
"It's not a rumor. Yet it's not a city anymore. It's the ruins of a city. Nobody lives there except scavengers. It's not a safe place."
The man looked disappointed. "I see."
She introduced Miller to the man before asking, "Why do you want to go there?" Miller kept loading the wagon. She learned that the gentleman's name was Kraig.
Again, the hesitation appeared in the man's eyes. "Well, my grandfather was one of the great scientists before the big war. . .he and his colleagues did a lot of groundbreaking research, made so many advances. My parents told me that his data and research are archived in underground vaults in the city. It reportedly hasn't been touched since they were sealed years ago. And now I wish to obtain this information. I think we can learn a lot from his research. Learn about preventing future wars, disasters, epidemics, catastrophes. Protecting the environment and planet."
Sonja nodded. "When did your grandfather pass away?"
"Oh, years ago. . .so can you take me there?"
"Well, it's going to be a long journey."
"I understand. How much do you charge?"
After they settled on rates, Sonja said, "We'll leave early tomorrow morning."
Sonja was busy feeding the animals on her farm when Kraig arrived. Miller was getting some water from a well, offering him a cup.
"Thank you, son," Kraig replied, taking a long drink. "Ahh, nice and cold. You two have a beautiful place here." He surveyed the spacious, lush green land. There was a barn, a stockade, a kennel, and a primitive stone house with a thatched roof.
"Thank you," she replied. "My husband was a farmer, too. After he passed, I decided to keep farming instead of selling the land. I could've made a fortune from it but I wanted to respect his memory and all his hard work. Plus, I love animals. Miller's learned to be quite a farmer, too." She smiled at her son.
Kraig nodded. "That's great."
Sonja put on open-toed sandals that laced up her muscular calves and then donned a tan colored poncho. The sides were open so one could see she was naked underneath. The wagon was all loaded up with supplies for their trip and they climbed aboard, with Kraig sitting in the seat behind them. She sat in the driver's seat that was covered with a white sheepskin's fur. The fur was soft and warm under her bare ass.
She grabbed the reins, whipped the horses once, and they were off.
* * *
The wagon cruised down a single dirt road in the forest. It was a bumpy ride. They hadn't passed another soul for miles. The silence was eerie. Soon, the landscape changed to rolling yellow hills. They no longer had the luxury of the trees for shade. Sonja pulled her wide-brimmed straw hat further down on her head. Miller handed her her water bottle and she took a long drink. Ahhh, that felt good! Then he took a swig.
For the next few hours the monotonous scenery didn't change. The horses pulled the wagon at a quick speed.
Sonja looked over her shoulder at Kraig. "Where are you from?"
"Haron."
She nodded. "Are you married?"
He nodded. "I have two girls around Miller's age. They cried when Daddy left but I told them I'd be back. . .wow, we're literally in the middle of no where, aren't we?"
"You could say that. I've had a wagon wheel break down on me a couple of times out here. Believe me, it ain't no fun fixing it in the middle of a heat wave! And on top of that no one to help you."
"Ahh, Ma, you don't need anyone to help you," Miller interjected. "You can repair anything."
She smiled, looking back at Kraig. "He thinks I'm quite the handywoman."
"You are, Ma!" Miller added.
Eventually, they passed by other farms and villages. More hours passed. As sunset approached they set up camp off the dirt road, near a river. At night, they sat around a campfire and ate. An owl hooted and later the lonely howl of a wolf shattered the silence.
"How did your husband die?" Kraig asked curiously.
Sonja stared ahead at the flickering orange flames. The wood crackled. "He was chopping wood near the barn one day, minding his own business, when suddenly he was circled by a group of young hoodlums. . .they demanded money, valuables. When he said he didn't have anything they beat him to death with their clubs." She continued staring at the flames. "Miller and I were in town at the time, selling things at the marketplace. . .we found him lying in his own blood when we returned." She didn't look at her son or Kraig.
"Did they capture the perpetrators?" Kraig asked.
"Some of them," she replied. "They hung those bastards. . .but the rest of them haven't been seen since. . .if I catch 'em I'm gonna put a bullet between their eyes." A moment of silence passed. "So tell us about your scientist grandfather and his research. He's legendary, isn't he?"
He told them his grandfather's name but they hadn't heard of him.
"But that doesn't mean anything," Sonja said. "There are some things I don't know. Go on."
"Well, he and his colleagues did a whole bunch of research on nuclear and atomic power. They did tests, too, and warned people and governments about the dangers of this kind of power. But their words fell on deaf ears. No one cared. All the governments were concerned about were winning wars and making money. No one cared about the people and the environment. So my grandfather and his associates had their wealth of scientific knowledge stored in these underground vaults, hoping that future generations would find it."
Sonja nodded. "Look what happened when people didn't listen to them."
"Their knowledge could've prevented the big war," Kraig said. "But the governments didn't listen. Greed, politics, and the thirst for power dominated. . .now we're starting all over again."
After bathing in the river the next morning, they continued their journey. It was already hot and Sonja's wet dark blonde hair dried quickly. The dirt road took them past more yellow hills and through a lush, green forest. Not a soul in sight. By late morning on the second day of their trek they rode up to the top of a hill.
On the other side were the ruins of the city. Burnt, dilapidated skyscrapers and buildings still stood. Houses had been destroyed. The place had been bombed and the smell of smoke was still in the air. After taking one final look, Sonja whipped the horses and they pulled the wagon down the yellow hill. The city was a ghost town, its deserted streets full of rubble, debris, trash, and derelict cars and buses. The creepy silence was pierced by the sound of horseshoes click-clacking through the streets.
Sonja carefully maneuvered the wagon past burnt out cars, motorcycles, trucks, and fallen buildings. She thought she saw someone hiding behind a vehicle but it was just a garbage bag blowing in the wind. Kraig sat in the back seat, looking at a battered map. He saw the name of the street they were on and consulted the map again.
"We're getting close to the university," he said. "When you reach Broadway make a right turn."
"Okay," Sonja replied, steering them carefully past an upside down bus. She saw a sign on the ruined sidewalk that read: BART. Stairs led down from there. She wondered what BART was. Moments later, they were on Broadway. "Be on the lookout for scavengers and gangs of bandits."
They saw the university's clock tower minutes later. The time remained frozen at 1:10. Sonja parked the wagon near a streetlamp and tied the horses to it. With her straw hat, poncho, and sandals on, she strapped on a backpack. In her hands was a rifle. Miller also carried a backpack and a rifle.
Kraig looked at the weapons. "Wow, you mean business!"
"No, those scavengers and gangs mean business. I'm very thorough with my jobs. You paid me top dollar so you're gonna receive top dollar treatment."
"Why thank you," he said, looking at the map. He led them through the quiet campus.
An overturned newspaper stand lied near the library entrance. Displayed inside was a yellowed, curled copy that read: OAKLAND TRIBUNE, March 25th, 20-
Sonja tried to make out the year but it had faded. She surveyed the landscape. "So this is Oakland."
