June 2, 2023 • 21 mins
Tilda and Madison reach their destination, but not without perils.
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Speaker 1 (00:05):
Hey, this is Annie and Samantha and all come stuff I
never told you production of iHeartRadio, and welcome to another
edition of Spinty Fiction, which is once a month. This
is an ongoing story. We are at chapter ten, so
(00:29):
go check out the rest of the chapters if you
haven't heard them already. These are the work of Christina
Amazing makes them sound so good. This chapter is getting
split into two again because I'm really bad at chapter length,
I guess, but it got kind of overly long, so
we're having this one. I will say for the content
(00:54):
warning child endangerment, disease, pandemic, high panic attack sounds. Oh yeah,
that's a little cheeser of what's to come. Yeah, like
I've said in all of these, I get it. If
that is not you're saying right now or ever, that's
(01:17):
totally cool. But yes, this is something I wrote during
Nana Ramo on twenty ten. We are getting to a
part I'm very very eager to talk about. Like I've
liked talking about all of this, but there's a part
coming up where I'm like, oh, I see what was going. Yes,
I also say, as I said in the last couple
(01:38):
of ones, I spent way too much time worried about
like the maps in the directions, Like it's very clear
that I did. Apologies for that. Also, I know this
is not accurate in terms of the stamina of a child.
Like when I was reading it, I was like, wow,
So just put it out there. Just put that out there, Okay,
(01:59):
so quick recap. Humanity is dying out due to a
sex based disease. A new government has taken control alongside
a religious group named arm and they control all aspects
of conception and if a child is born, they control
where the child goes. Our main character, Tilda, has escaped
with her infant son, Madison, and they've been on the
(02:20):
run for seven years and now the elements are against them.
The enforcers are hot on their tracks, and after suffering
an injury from the enforcers, Tilda and Madison meet a
kind woman named Lynn, who helped Tilda recover and told
her about a resistance and possible cure in Kansas City.
So that is where we are. That is where our
(02:42):
duo is heading, So let's get into it. When Tilda
woke several hours later, neither of them had moved her muscles.
(03:02):
Screamed at her as she shifted under the blanket. Madison
moaned softly in his sleep, rolling over to face her.
His young face hypnotized her for a long moment. When
she broke free, her eyes roved over to the window,
but she couldn't get a good read on the time.
The dark curtains prevented much light from getting in. For
the first time in a long time, she wished she
had a watch. She dozed off, the warmth of the blanket,
(03:25):
slullowing her back to sleep. Madison, moving restlessly next to her,
awakened her to a darker room. Blinking away the sleep,
she looked over to the child, whose puffy eyes stared
into hers. Tilda smiled at him, pushing herself into a
sitting position, Her back cracked and she scooted off the bed,
Madison tracking her progress but making no effort to move himself.
(03:47):
She could understand why, after the warmth of the blankets,
the cool air ate at her bones. You hungry, she asked,
voice rough with sleep, Pulling the blanket closer around him,
he nodded. She joins popping. She first pulled aside section
of curtain, judging by the light that it was late afternoon,
replacing the fabric. She trudged over to her pack and
(04:08):
zipping the second pocket and sorting through the provisions Land
had sent with them. How about a granola bar? Is
there a peanut butter one? Madison turned over to face her. Grinning,
Tilda pulled out a bar labeled honey peanut butter oat
for him and cinnamon almond for herself. Pulling the water
bottles out, she sat at Madison's feet, handing him his
bar and water bottle. His fingers fumbled with the wrapper
(04:29):
for a second before it tore open and he bit
off the corner. Tilda's own bar tasted better than expected,
though the drag granola got stuck in her throat. She
had to take a swig of water after every bite.
It's good, Madison said, quietly, already almost finished. Do you
want something else? They could always pick up something else
(04:50):
while they were here or in Kansas City, though she'd
rather avoid it until they were further from Topeka. Madison
considered it for a moment, munching on his last bite,
but shook his head. Tilda finished her own, wiping the
crumbs from her jacket. How much further, Madison asked, sipping
at his water, about thirteen hours. We need to get
ready to leave downcast, Madison nodded, finally shutting himself off
(05:14):
the blanket. Tilda took their now dry and stiff clothes
from the radiator, folding them and replacing them in the bag,
stuffing the blanket on top. Then she started pulling on
her boots, hat, gloves, and scarf, Madison doing the same
next to her, Struggling a bit with the laces. Tilda
reached over and tied them for him, Wrapping his scarf
around his neck. He tucked on his hat and gloves,
(05:35):
looking up at her for direction. Tilda slid the water
back in the bag and zipped it closed, swinging it
on to her shoulders. Inspecting Madison one final time, she
swung open the door, checking down the hallway and finding
it clear. With Madison's hand once again in hers, they
left the motel. Dusk was falling. Tilda cast a sweeping
glance around the familiar anxiety at being out in the open,
(05:58):
surrounded by possible hide spots gnawing at her insides. With
quick trotting steps, they took the exit ramp and got
back on I seventy. Darkness fell quickly. They had slept
away most of the day, and night came sooner as
ball encroached on them. Gradually her legs loosened, and they
settled into a relatively quick pace. They didn't speak, a
(06:19):
fact tiled a lamented, but figured was for the best,
both to keep an ear out for the enforcers and
to not draw any attention to themselves. Tonight, the sky
was clear, pinpricks of light and a sliver of moon,
eliminating the road with a silvery glow. She had a
passing sensation that they were wading through a sea of space,
an alien world of strange light. The absence of any sound,
(06:43):
no crickets, no owls, no rustling leaves added to the effect.
For hours, they walked into the night as it grew
steadily darker and then slowly shaded lighter again, a purple
twilight contrasting with the dark outline of the ground. The
sun rose where the road on horizon blended together, a
mirage of fire shimmering on the asphalt. It gave Tilda
(07:05):
the impression the road went on forever, meeting with vast
space and stretching even further. But as they kept walking,
they could touch the sky red and orange lights spread
like a lifting curtain, the edges of the trees fiery,
the fingers of warmth touched their faces. Skyscrapers and buildings
loomed in the distance. The sun, a perfect circle, still
(07:28):
large in orange from its rising, hung over them. They
passed a sign that read Kansas City, eight miles. They
had been walking at twelve hours, only snacking on some
almonds and trail mics through the night. Masson looked ashen
with exhaustion, but he kept up with Tilda, uncomplaining. Dull
(07:48):
senses came back online the open fields on either side
of the road, making her extremely nervous. Sisst Madison croaked,
more tired than hopeful. Yes, Tilda replied her steps, growing
more tentative of their own volition. This whole plan seemed
stupidly naive. Now she had half a mind to turn back.
(08:09):
How could she think there would be a way for
them to sneak in when this whole region of what
was once known as the United States was flat, and
of course there would be enforcers here they were in Topeka.
But these thoughts only slowed her steps, her body mostly
an autopilot. Now the buildings stood like specters forbidding. An
ominous dark squares of broken windows, like eyes watching their approach.
(08:33):
A river separated them from Pansas City, the bridge spanning
at missing sections towards the middle, slabs of concrete held
up by cables. The once artistic network of wires connecting
the road to the metal structure arching over the river
had almost all snapped or broken away, only a few
remaining intact. Tilda could not think of a reason for this,
other than the slow erosion of materials going so long
(08:55):
without maintenance, and natural occurrences like tornadoes. But even give
in that the damage seemed severe. The air was unnaturally
still and silent around them, as if the whole world
was waiting on the edge of something. Tilda was falling,
and she couldn't stop her path, a line from which
she could not stray, not for long. All roads led
(09:17):
to hear they took the closest exit, Tilda reckoning entering
the city through the suburbs, and I might provide them
some level of cover. Of course, she'd have to consult
the map to locate the Liberty Memorial, but the chances
of the Resistance actually being located there were remote Tilda's mind.
She chose to put off thinking about what they'd do
if and most likely when the Liberty Memorial turned up nothing.
(09:41):
With Madison so clearly exhausted and she herself running on
fumes in the last vestiges of adrenaline, she toyed with
the idea of finding an empty house and resting there
until night fell, again, offering them some additional protection as
they searched the city. Now that they were here, however,
she wanted to find something, some indication that this had
not been a fool's air, and the lure of somewhere
(10:01):
they could be safe, of a place that might have
a cure, was too strong a siren song, keeping Tilda going,
even as part of her labeledness as dangerously reckless. Houses,
all similar and build in color, packed the streets tightly.
Tilda had the brief notion that they were in a
maze of tombstones, those empty houses ready to swallow them whole,
(10:22):
the rows of them never ending. They walked down the
thin alleyways between houses, breath puffing in the cold. The
passages were narrow enough that the two could not pass
through them side by side, Madison trailing behind Tilda with
a tight grip on her gloved hand. Tilda wondered fleedingly
if any of the houses had people in them, but
quickly squashed that thought. She was on edge enough as
(10:45):
it was, feeling that she was navigating through a colony
of slumbering beast that could wake at any moment. Emerging
from what must have been at least the twentieth row,
a green sun caught her eye, glinting in the sunlight.
At the end of the residential street, where it met
a maize road, it read twenty third Street Bridge with
a faded white arrow pointing to the left. Knowing eventually
(11:06):
they'd have to cross a bridge, Tilda led them across
the street and further down, planning to follow the main
road while under the cover of the houses. She hoped
that this bridge was in better shape than the last one.
They waded through the fences and debris cluttered in between
the houses, Tilda, keeping track of the road as they progressed.
Signs for the bridge let them know that they were
(11:28):
on the right path. Navigating through the seemingly endless sprawl,
Tilda began to doubt the bridge's existence. While time held
little meaning for her, these days, she had become a
pretty good judge of distance as a result of their
nomadic life. By her estimation, they'd covered a distance of
about four miles since taking the Kansas City exit. The
sun now almost midway to its highest point, The road
(11:51):
veered sharply to the right, away from the line of buildings.
It rose steadily, forming a low hill over muddy water.
It wasn't like most bridges Tilda encountered, with no wiring
or support on the side of it. It was simply
like the road on either side of it, with a
long sloping ramp to enter and exit. Near it was
what Tilda guests had once been a railroad, crossing iron
(12:14):
beams forming a tight diamond pattern of crisscrossing support. But
the bottom of it had collapsed, the tips of the
bars poking out from the river below like spikes. They
stopped for a moment, Tilda studying the structure for any
flaws that a part of her hoped to find. Madison
mirrored her hesitation. Do we have to cross, he asked
in a tiny, plaintive voice with a controlled exhale. Tilda nodded,
(12:39):
and he made a small noise at the back of
his throat, staring up at her pleadingly. He could feel
it too. Then whatever force propelled them forward in the
deadness in the air, Waiting relentless, they stepped out from
the cover of the buildings, Madison slightly behind her, and
onto the road, the soles of their boots gripping at
the incline. The bridge looked intact, but Tilda knew they
(13:01):
would have to be very mindful. The ramp was steeper
than it looked, Arching steadily upwards, Cracks littered the cement,
but the road felt relatively stable. Still. Tilda chose her
steps carefully, as did Madison behind her. She couldn't tell
if the wobbliness was in her knees or the structure
beneath her. As they ascended, the cracks turned into missing chunks,
(13:22):
gaping holes in the asphalt for them to avoid. A
deep indent in the road indicated where the ramp ended
and the bridge began. The ground fell away beneath them,
giving way to a steep drop and a muddy river.
The water flowed noiselessly, carving its path, eating away at rock.
The air that previously had been so still gusted over
the river, buffeting them massen clung to Tilda, who adjusted
(13:46):
the straps in her backpack to keep it from catching
the wind and knocking her from her feet. She couldn't
make out what awaited them on the other side. The
rise was too steep, the holes grew more frequent cracks
spider webbing across the length the bridge. Tilda cogitated over
every step, like one in a minefield. A mighty guest
(14:06):
of air made both of them stumble, her left foot
balancing on the edge of a missing chunk. Madison whimpered,
hunching over to minimize the effect of the wind. Swallowing
her fear, Tilda pressed forward, squeezing the tiny hand gripping
her own and coaxing Madison forward as well. They had
almost reached the peak. A large section of road was missing,
(14:27):
with only thin slivers on either side and a network
of support bars remaining. Tilda steered them to the right,
a sturdier looking oshen than the left. The absence of
railing of any kind made Tilda's stomach to flips and
quickened her breathing. The slab was narrow enough that they
would have to cross single file. Keeping a hold of
Madison's hand, Tilda proceeded first, pausing each time after she
(14:51):
planted her foot, testing to see if it would hold.
Another rush of air buffeted them, Madison nearly falling, Tilda
yanking him upright with what must have been a painful
grip on his hand. She stole a glance back at him,
ticking in his glassy eyes. Full of exhaustion, but kept
alert with adrenaline, darting around wildly like a wild animal
caught in a trap. They needed to get off this bridge.
(15:14):
Once they had steadied themselves, they started again, the tasks
made harder by the incline. Tilda counted each step, not
allowing herself to look ahead to think of anything other
than where to plant her foot. Next. Seven exhale regroup.
Eight She wobbled, her arms outstretched like that of a
tight rope walker. Nine the wind gusted. She held her breath,
(15:39):
inching forward the sliver met with the rest of the road,
till a side and relieve her legs like noodles. When
they could move away from the edge of the bridge,
her first look down at the other side of the
river revealed nothing out of the ordinary. The road sloped downwards,
now making it almost more traitorous. A piece of concrete
crumbled beneath her feet, and she slipped, catching herself with
(16:00):
her free hand and almost pulling Madison off balance with her.
Taking a moment to get her bearings, Tilda eased back
to a standing position, never letting go of Madison. She
teetered for a moment, but regained her footing, heart galloping
in her chest, pulsing in her fingertips. The descent didn't
take as long as the hike up. Un Tilda could
have collapsed in relief when they reached the other side,
(16:21):
the pavement unfurling before them, smooth of cracks. The ramp
wound to the right before twisting back again to the
left with a steady decline. Swollen knees made Tilda's gait jerky.
She felt stilted, as though she were a scarecrow, losing
straw with each step. Now that they were off the bridge,
the wind had died away and the air was once
(16:41):
again still. Madison grasped her hand with both of his.
She could feel him trembling. His breast came showly uneven.
Tilda ran her other hand through his hair, slowly, hoping
to calm him. Directing her eyes back to the skyline,
she searched for any sign of the Liberty Memorial. Scanning
(17:01):
the outline of the bridges gave no hint. She really
had no idea what it looked like, but it sounded
like something she'd know once she'd seen it. Madison tripped
when they reached the first curve, falling to his knees.
Bending over, Tilda helped him up and then hoisted him
into her arms, almost groaning aloud as the tendons and
her already sore back protested. She had hoped to avoid
(17:22):
crying him when the threat of enforcers was so real,
but at this point she'd pretty much have to drag
him anyway. I can walk, he mumbled, voiced grave with exhaustion.
You've walked enough, she adjested, her grip pulling her legs
to with stand the weight as she took her first
shaky steps. It's been almost fourteen hours. I should have
(17:43):
picked you up earlier. We'll stop soon, I promise. He
nestled his head into the crook of her neck. Sighing,
she rubbed his back, searching for somewhere they could rest
until they recovered some strength. It was foolish of her
not to stop when they first entered the outskirts of
Kansas City. Now they were more suppose than ever and
too tired to do anything in the case of danger.
(18:21):
And that brings us to the end of this chapter
ten point one. We'll get the second half next month
of Terminus. Yes, you could definitely see how much I
was focused on the directions and the details, and this
one I would love for anybody from Kansas City right
in and just tell me I'm way off. Did you
(18:43):
say a part of this is in Lawrence. Yeah, the Supernatural,
which by the way, is named one of the best
Cities to Retire apparently really top twenty list. I think
they made it. Well, there you go back. Fun fact. Well,
as I told you, I stayed in LARTs, and part
(19:04):
of the whole thing is based on my road trip experience.
So when I was there, it was under a lot
of construction. But I'm sure maybe that's what's going on
right now. Maybe it's uh. I mean, I liked it there,
but it was under a lot of construction. This is
also like a chapter where I feel like it really
showcases an idea that I love, which is just like,
(19:28):
if the world is dying out and like aliens come,
what will they think about like amusement parks, Like if
you don't know what these things are, right, what do
you think that they are? So that's certainly that's certainly
on display here. Also you can tell a thous and percent.
I was in my walking era. This is when I
(19:50):
was walking everywhere, and that's why I'd be like, it
would take an hour to do this, because I just knew, like,
if you walk, that's how long it would take to
get this disc. Could it get do it? No? No?
But I did not care about that. But yeah, you
know are used to walking, Yeah, everywhere, like places that
(20:14):
were way too far away walk. It was just like
why did you do this? So it take me a
whole day? Yeah, Like, well I finally got here and
you're like why, I was like what it's about to
close and I need head. It was a whole It
was a whole time for me. It's a whole time.
But yes, hopefully you enjoyed this edition of spanty fiction.
(20:37):
I love doing them. Christina makes them amazing. So we
will be back with part two of this chapter in
a month's time, But in the meantime, if you would
like to write in, if you have any suggestions, we
could do for pieces like this that are in the
public domain, that'd be really cool. You can email us.
Our email is stuffandia mom Stuff at iHeartMedia dot com.
(20:59):
You can find us on Twitter at most up Podcasts,
or on Instagram and TikTok at Stuff Will Never Told You.
You also find us on YouTube, and we have a book.
You can pre order it Stuff You should read books
dot com. Thanks as always to our super producer Christina,
our executive producer Maya, and our contributor Joey. Thank you
and thanks to you for listening. Stuff I Never Told
You is production of iHeartRadio. For more podcasts from my
heart Radio, you can check out the iHeartRadio app Apple
(21:20):
Podcasts wherever you listen to your favorite ships.
Hey, this is Annie and Samantha and all come stuff I
never told you production of iHeartRadio, and welcome to another
edition of Spinty Fiction, which is once a month. This
is an ongoing story. We are at chapter ten, so
(00:29):
go check out the rest of the chapters if you
haven't heard them already. These are the work of Christina
Amazing makes them sound so good. This chapter is getting
split into two again because I'm really bad at chapter length,
I guess, but it got kind of overly long, so
we're having this one. I will say for the content
(00:54):
warning child endangerment, disease, pandemic, high panic attack sounds. Oh yeah,
that's a little cheeser of what's to come. Yeah, like
I've said in all of these, I get it. If
that is not you're saying right now or ever, that's
(01:17):
totally cool. But yes, this is something I wrote during
Nana Ramo on twenty ten. We are getting to a
part I'm very very eager to talk about. Like I've
liked talking about all of this, but there's a part
coming up where I'm like, oh, I see what was going. Yes,
I also say, as I said in the last couple
(01:38):
of ones, I spent way too much time worried about
like the maps in the directions, Like it's very clear
that I did. Apologies for that. Also, I know this
is not accurate in terms of the stamina of a child.
Like when I was reading it, I was like, wow,
So just put it out there. Just put that out there, Okay,
(01:59):
so quick recap. Humanity is dying out due to a
sex based disease. A new government has taken control alongside
a religious group named arm and they control all aspects
of conception and if a child is born, they control
where the child goes. Our main character, Tilda, has escaped
with her infant son, Madison, and they've been on the
(02:20):
run for seven years and now the elements are against them.
The enforcers are hot on their tracks, and after suffering
an injury from the enforcers, Tilda and Madison meet a
kind woman named Lynn, who helped Tilda recover and told
her about a resistance and possible cure in Kansas City.
So that is where we are. That is where our
(02:42):
duo is heading, So let's get into it. When Tilda
woke several hours later, neither of them had moved her muscles.
(03:02):
Screamed at her as she shifted under the blanket. Madison
moaned softly in his sleep, rolling over to face her.
His young face hypnotized her for a long moment. When
she broke free, her eyes roved over to the window,
but she couldn't get a good read on the time.
The dark curtains prevented much light from getting in. For
the first time in a long time, she wished she
had a watch. She dozed off, the warmth of the blanket,
(03:25):
slullowing her back to sleep. Madison, moving restlessly next to her,
awakened her to a darker room. Blinking away the sleep,
she looked over to the child, whose puffy eyes stared
into hers. Tilda smiled at him, pushing herself into a
sitting position, Her back cracked and she scooted off the bed,
Madison tracking her progress but making no effort to move himself.
(03:47):
She could understand why, after the warmth of the blankets,
the cool air ate at her bones. You hungry, she asked,
voice rough with sleep, Pulling the blanket closer around him,
he nodded. She joins popping. She first pulled aside section
of curtain, judging by the light that it was late afternoon,
replacing the fabric. She trudged over to her pack and
(04:08):
zipping the second pocket and sorting through the provisions Land
had sent with them. How about a granola bar? Is
there a peanut butter one? Madison turned over to face her. Grinning,
Tilda pulled out a bar labeled honey peanut butter oat
for him and cinnamon almond for herself. Pulling the water
bottles out, she sat at Madison's feet, handing him his
bar and water bottle. His fingers fumbled with the wrapper
(04:29):
for a second before it tore open and he bit
off the corner. Tilda's own bar tasted better than expected,
though the drag granola got stuck in her throat. She
had to take a swig of water after every bite.
It's good, Madison said, quietly, already almost finished. Do you
want something else? They could always pick up something else
(04:50):
while they were here or in Kansas City, though she'd
rather avoid it until they were further from Topeka. Madison
considered it for a moment, munching on his last bite,
but shook his head. Tilda finished her own, wiping the
crumbs from her jacket. How much further, Madison asked, sipping
at his water, about thirteen hours. We need to get
ready to leave downcast, Madison nodded, finally shutting himself off
(05:14):
the blanket. Tilda took their now dry and stiff clothes
from the radiator, folding them and replacing them in the bag,
stuffing the blanket on top. Then she started pulling on
her boots, hat, gloves, and scarf, Madison doing the same
next to her, Struggling a bit with the laces. Tilda
reached over and tied them for him, Wrapping his scarf
around his neck. He tucked on his hat and gloves,
(05:35):
looking up at her for direction. Tilda slid the water
back in the bag and zipped it closed, swinging it
on to her shoulders. Inspecting Madison one final time, she
swung open the door, checking down the hallway and finding
it clear. With Madison's hand once again in hers, they
left the motel. Dusk was falling. Tilda cast a sweeping
glance around the familiar anxiety at being out in the open,
(05:58):
surrounded by possible hide spots gnawing at her insides. With
quick trotting steps, they took the exit ramp and got
back on I seventy. Darkness fell quickly. They had slept
away most of the day, and night came sooner as
ball encroached on them. Gradually her legs loosened, and they
settled into a relatively quick pace. They didn't speak, a
(06:19):
fact tiled a lamented, but figured was for the best,
both to keep an ear out for the enforcers and
to not draw any attention to themselves. Tonight, the sky
was clear, pinpricks of light and a sliver of moon,
eliminating the road with a silvery glow. She had a
passing sensation that they were wading through a sea of space,
an alien world of strange light. The absence of any sound,
(06:43):
no crickets, no owls, no rustling leaves added to the effect.
For hours, they walked into the night as it grew
steadily darker and then slowly shaded lighter again, a purple
twilight contrasting with the dark outline of the ground. The
sun rose where the road on horizon blended together, a
mirage of fire shimmering on the asphalt. It gave Tilda
(07:05):
the impression the road went on forever, meeting with vast
space and stretching even further. But as they kept walking,
they could touch the sky red and orange lights spread
like a lifting curtain, the edges of the trees fiery,
the fingers of warmth touched their faces. Skyscrapers and buildings
loomed in the distance. The sun, a perfect circle, still
(07:28):
large in orange from its rising, hung over them. They
passed a sign that read Kansas City, eight miles. They
had been walking at twelve hours, only snacking on some
almonds and trail mics through the night. Masson looked ashen
with exhaustion, but he kept up with Tilda, uncomplaining. Dull
(07:48):
senses came back online the open fields on either side
of the road, making her extremely nervous. Sisst Madison croaked,
more tired than hopeful. Yes, Tilda replied her steps, growing
more tentative of their own volition. This whole plan seemed
stupidly naive. Now she had half a mind to turn back.
(08:09):
How could she think there would be a way for
them to sneak in when this whole region of what
was once known as the United States was flat, and
of course there would be enforcers here they were in Topeka.
But these thoughts only slowed her steps, her body mostly
an autopilot. Now the buildings stood like specters forbidding. An
ominous dark squares of broken windows, like eyes watching their approach.
(08:33):
A river separated them from Pansas City, the bridge spanning
at missing sections towards the middle, slabs of concrete held
up by cables. The once artistic network of wires connecting
the road to the metal structure arching over the river
had almost all snapped or broken away, only a few
remaining intact. Tilda could not think of a reason for this,
other than the slow erosion of materials going so long
(08:55):
without maintenance, and natural occurrences like tornadoes. But even give
in that the damage seemed severe. The air was unnaturally
still and silent around them, as if the whole world
was waiting on the edge of something. Tilda was falling,
and she couldn't stop her path, a line from which
she could not stray, not for long. All roads led
(09:17):
to hear they took the closest exit, Tilda reckoning entering
the city through the suburbs, and I might provide them
some level of cover. Of course, she'd have to consult
the map to locate the Liberty Memorial, but the chances
of the Resistance actually being located there were remote Tilda's mind.
She chose to put off thinking about what they'd do
if and most likely when the Liberty Memorial turned up nothing.
(09:41):
With Madison so clearly exhausted and she herself running on
fumes in the last vestiges of adrenaline, she toyed with
the idea of finding an empty house and resting there
until night fell, again, offering them some additional protection as
they searched the city. Now that they were here, however,
she wanted to find something, some indication that this had
not been a fool's air, and the lure of somewhere
(10:01):
they could be safe, of a place that might have
a cure, was too strong a siren song, keeping Tilda going,
even as part of her labeledness as dangerously reckless. Houses,
all similar and build in color, packed the streets tightly.
Tilda had the brief notion that they were in a
maze of tombstones, those empty houses ready to swallow them whole,
(10:22):
the rows of them never ending. They walked down the
thin alleyways between houses, breath puffing in the cold. The
passages were narrow enough that the two could not pass
through them side by side, Madison trailing behind Tilda with
a tight grip on her gloved hand. Tilda wondered fleedingly
if any of the houses had people in them, but
quickly squashed that thought. She was on edge enough as
(10:45):
it was, feeling that she was navigating through a colony
of slumbering beast that could wake at any moment. Emerging
from what must have been at least the twentieth row,
a green sun caught her eye, glinting in the sunlight.
At the end of the residential street, where it met
a maize road, it read twenty third Street Bridge with
a faded white arrow pointing to the left. Knowing eventually
(11:06):
they'd have to cross a bridge, Tilda led them across
the street and further down, planning to follow the main
road while under the cover of the houses. She hoped
that this bridge was in better shape than the last one.
They waded through the fences and debris cluttered in between
the houses, Tilda, keeping track of the road as they progressed.
Signs for the bridge let them know that they were
(11:28):
on the right path. Navigating through the seemingly endless sprawl,
Tilda began to doubt the bridge's existence. While time held
little meaning for her, these days, she had become a
pretty good judge of distance as a result of their
nomadic life. By her estimation, they'd covered a distance of
about four miles since taking the Kansas City exit. The
sun now almost midway to its highest point, The road
(11:51):
veered sharply to the right, away from the line of buildings.
It rose steadily, forming a low hill over muddy water.
It wasn't like most bridges Tilda encountered, with no wiring
or support on the side of it. It was simply
like the road on either side of it, with a
long sloping ramp to enter and exit. Near it was
what Tilda guests had once been a railroad, crossing iron
(12:14):
beams forming a tight diamond pattern of crisscrossing support. But
the bottom of it had collapsed, the tips of the
bars poking out from the river below like spikes. They
stopped for a moment, Tilda studying the structure for any
flaws that a part of her hoped to find. Madison
mirrored her hesitation. Do we have to cross, he asked
in a tiny, plaintive voice with a controlled exhale. Tilda nodded,
(12:39):
and he made a small noise at the back of
his throat, staring up at her pleadingly. He could feel
it too. Then whatever force propelled them forward in the
deadness in the air, Waiting relentless, they stepped out from
the cover of the buildings, Madison slightly behind her, and
onto the road, the soles of their boots gripping at
the incline. The bridge looked intact, but Tilda knew they
(13:01):
would have to be very mindful. The ramp was steeper
than it looked, Arching steadily upwards, Cracks littered the cement,
but the road felt relatively stable. Still. Tilda chose her
steps carefully, as did Madison behind her. She couldn't tell
if the wobbliness was in her knees or the structure
beneath her. As they ascended, the cracks turned into missing chunks,
(13:22):
gaping holes in the asphalt for them to avoid. A
deep indent in the road indicated where the ramp ended
and the bridge began. The ground fell away beneath them,
giving way to a steep drop and a muddy river.
The water flowed noiselessly, carving its path, eating away at rock.
The air that previously had been so still gusted over
the river, buffeting them massen clung to Tilda, who adjusted
(13:46):
the straps in her backpack to keep it from catching
the wind and knocking her from her feet. She couldn't
make out what awaited them on the other side. The
rise was too steep, the holes grew more frequent cracks
spider webbing across the length the bridge. Tilda cogitated over
every step, like one in a minefield. A mighty guest
(14:06):
of air made both of them stumble, her left foot
balancing on the edge of a missing chunk. Madison whimpered,
hunching over to minimize the effect of the wind. Swallowing
her fear, Tilda pressed forward, squeezing the tiny hand gripping
her own and coaxing Madison forward as well. They had
almost reached the peak. A large section of road was missing,
(14:27):
with only thin slivers on either side and a network
of support bars remaining. Tilda steered them to the right,
a sturdier looking oshen than the left. The absence of
railing of any kind made Tilda's stomach to flips and
quickened her breathing. The slab was narrow enough that they
would have to cross single file. Keeping a hold of
Madison's hand, Tilda proceeded first, pausing each time after she
(14:51):
planted her foot, testing to see if it would hold.
Another rush of air buffeted them, Madison nearly falling, Tilda
yanking him upright with what must have been a painful
grip on his hand. She stole a glance back at him,
ticking in his glassy eyes. Full of exhaustion, but kept
alert with adrenaline, darting around wildly like a wild animal
caught in a trap. They needed to get off this bridge.
(15:14):
Once they had steadied themselves, they started again, the tasks
made harder by the incline. Tilda counted each step, not
allowing herself to look ahead to think of anything other
than where to plant her foot. Next. Seven exhale regroup.
Eight She wobbled, her arms outstretched like that of a
tight rope walker. Nine the wind gusted. She held her breath,
(15:39):
inching forward the sliver met with the rest of the road,
till a side and relieve her legs like noodles. When
they could move away from the edge of the bridge,
her first look down at the other side of the
river revealed nothing out of the ordinary. The road sloped downwards,
now making it almost more traitorous. A piece of concrete
crumbled beneath her feet, and she slipped, catching herself with
(16:00):
her free hand and almost pulling Madison off balance with her.
Taking a moment to get her bearings, Tilda eased back
to a standing position, never letting go of Madison. She
teetered for a moment, but regained her footing, heart galloping
in her chest, pulsing in her fingertips. The descent didn't
take as long as the hike up. Un Tilda could
have collapsed in relief when they reached the other side,
(16:21):
the pavement unfurling before them, smooth of cracks. The ramp
wound to the right before twisting back again to the
left with a steady decline. Swollen knees made Tilda's gait jerky.
She felt stilted, as though she were a scarecrow, losing
straw with each step. Now that they were off the bridge,
the wind had died away and the air was once
(16:41):
again still. Madison grasped her hand with both of his.
She could feel him trembling. His breast came showly uneven.
Tilda ran her other hand through his hair, slowly, hoping
to calm him. Directing her eyes back to the skyline,
she searched for any sign of the Liberty Memorial. Scanning
(17:01):
the outline of the bridges gave no hint. She really
had no idea what it looked like, but it sounded
like something she'd know once she'd seen it. Madison tripped
when they reached the first curve, falling to his knees.
Bending over, Tilda helped him up and then hoisted him
into her arms, almost groaning aloud as the tendons and
her already sore back protested. She had hoped to avoid
(17:22):
crying him when the threat of enforcers was so real,
but at this point she'd pretty much have to drag
him anyway. I can walk, he mumbled, voiced grave with exhaustion.
You've walked enough, she adjested, her grip pulling her legs
to with stand the weight as she took her first
shaky steps. It's been almost fourteen hours. I should have
(17:43):
picked you up earlier. We'll stop soon, I promise. He
nestled his head into the crook of her neck. Sighing,
she rubbed his back, searching for somewhere they could rest
until they recovered some strength. It was foolish of her
not to stop when they first entered the outskirts of
Kansas City. Now they were more suppose than ever and
too tired to do anything in the case of danger.
(18:21):
And that brings us to the end of this chapter
ten point one. We'll get the second half next month
of Terminus. Yes, you could definitely see how much I
was focused on the directions and the details, and this
one I would love for anybody from Kansas City right
in and just tell me I'm way off. Did you
(18:43):
say a part of this is in Lawrence. Yeah, the Supernatural,
which by the way, is named one of the best
Cities to Retire apparently really top twenty list. I think
they made it. Well, there you go back. Fun fact. Well,
as I told you, I stayed in LARTs, and part
(19:04):
of the whole thing is based on my road trip experience.
So when I was there, it was under a lot
of construction. But I'm sure maybe that's what's going on
right now. Maybe it's uh. I mean, I liked it there,
but it was under a lot of construction. This is
also like a chapter where I feel like it really
showcases an idea that I love, which is just like,
(19:28):
if the world is dying out and like aliens come,
what will they think about like amusement parks, Like if
you don't know what these things are, right, what do
you think that they are? So that's certainly that's certainly
on display here. Also you can tell a thous and percent.
I was in my walking era. This is when I
(19:50):
was walking everywhere, and that's why I'd be like, it
would take an hour to do this, because I just knew, like,
if you walk, that's how long it would take to
get this disc. Could it get do it? No? No?
But I did not care about that. But yeah, you
know are used to walking, Yeah, everywhere, like places that
(20:14):
were way too far away walk. It was just like
why did you do this? So it take me a
whole day? Yeah, Like, well I finally got here and
you're like why, I was like what it's about to
close and I need head. It was a whole It
was a whole time for me. It's a whole time.
But yes, hopefully you enjoyed this edition of spanty fiction.
(20:37):
I love doing them. Christina makes them amazing. So we
will be back with part two of this chapter in
a month's time, But in the meantime, if you would
like to write in, if you have any suggestions, we
could do for pieces like this that are in the
public domain, that'd be really cool. You can email us.
Our email is stuffandia mom Stuff at iHeartMedia dot com.
(20:59):
You can find us on Twitter at most up Podcasts,
or on Instagram and TikTok at Stuff Will Never Told You.
You also find us on YouTube, and we have a book.
You can pre order it Stuff You should read books
dot com. Thanks as always to our super producer Christina,
our executive producer Maya, and our contributor Joey. Thank you
and thanks to you for listening. Stuff I Never Told
You is production of iHeartRadio. For more podcasts from my
heart Radio, you can check out the iHeartRadio app Apple
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