The Broken Half-moon Bridge

Some Australian city, 500 years into the future

The empty harbour would have been a beautiful sight in the sunset, if not for the rubbish that had built up against the walls. A solid second wall of debris, deposited there by years of tides lapping against the stone, signified the end of the city and the beginning of the open sea. Perched precariously on top of the was a rusted traffic sign, green paint nearly gone, that was often used as makeshift raft by the kids from the home. 

Military Road. Mosman. Manly. Places that didn’t exist anymore.

‘Hooray, another day in paradise.’ Molly hugged her knees as she sat on the wall, looking out into the green-grey expanse. Her companion said nothing, but followed her gaze. 

The broken half-moon bridge stood out in the distance. Apparently it had once been the centrepiece of the city skyline, but no traffic had crossed it in over a century. The only people who went anywhere near it were thrill-seekers out to climb the broken pillars. Some got through intact enough to be arrested. Most didn’t. 

Overhead clouds began to build up again, creating that familiar green cast in the atmosphere that made everyone look sick. If they were lucky, the coming storm might bring some rain. If they were unlucky it would bring far worse. Either way, it would do little to alleviate the heat. 

‘You know, my dad reckoned the weather’s getting worse�"and fast. Too fast.’ Matthew looked up at the sky as he dangled his legs over the wall, kicking it rhythmically. 

‘So…the weather is going from s****y to shittier. Wonderful.’ 

Matthew looked at the fingernails of his right hand, frowned and rubbed them against his pants before returning his gaze upwards. ‘He said that five hundred years ago the climate was far more stable. ’

Molly shifted her weight on the stone�"a discomfort that had nothing to do with the seating arrangements�"and kept her gaze out to the vast ocean in front of her. Last time Matthew went off about his old man, they both got hauled up to the Governess’ office and denied dinner for a week. 

‘Remember when he told you people used to fly in the air too? We’ve always had the storms. It’s always been like this.’ she replied.

Matthew shook his head. ‘Nup. The storms, the heat, everything, it’s all new.’

‘Wasn’t your old man an alcoholic?’ 

‘F**k you, Molly.’ 

‘So what did the marvellous oracle of truth have to say about the glorious weather of the distant past?’

‘You could go outside in the middle of summer without getting sick. Winters were actually cold enough that people would wear extra layers to stay warm. Dad said they had systems that would pump warm air into their homes.’

Molly’s hair was sticking to her face again. She swept it away. The wind blew it right back into her face. ‘You sure he wasn’t just messing with you? Why the hell would people want to pump warm air into their houses?’

Matthew shrugged. ‘Never said he was perfect. Did you know that it used to get so cold here, the rain would freeze?’

‘The rain would freeze. Here.’ Molly laughed.

‘Well, not here, here. In the mountains to the south. Every winter, or at least that’s what he said.’ 

‘How the hell would he know?’ 

‘He used to go looking in places for information.’ Matthew was examining his fingernails again. He bit down on one, holding the finger in his mouth briefly.

‘Like the other drunks down at the bar?’

‘Like your dad is any better. Oh that’s right�"you’ve never met him because he’s a deadbeat!’ Matthew grinned at her.

Molly smirked and gave him the finger without looking at him.

‘Anyway he reckoned it used to be a massive thing.’ Matthew continued. ‘The towns would double in population in the winter because of all the people who went and did stuff like sliding on boards down the sides of the mountains.’ 

‘You don’t seriously believe this s**t, do you?’ 

Matthew made a dismissive gesture with his hand. ‘The frozen rain would stay on the ground. It’d sometimes be ten metres deep and whole houses would disappear.  I dunno though. But you could walk on top of it if you were careful and it wasn’t too mushy.’

‘But how the hell could you use a board on a surface like that?’ Wouldn’t the wheels get stuck?’

He laughed. ‘That’s the really cool bit. No wheels. Just the board�"it would slide on the frozen water.’ He made a swooping motion down his knees and out into the air with his hands. 

Molly rolled her eyes. ‘Whatever you reckon. Also, since when were there towns in the mountains?’ 

Nobody lived in the mountains, not even before the borders closed. It was just a wild, empty, lonely place that stretched on and on for hundreds of kilometres, just like the desert to the west. Plus, it was so dangerous that nobody who went into the area ever came back out. The news sites barely even bothered to report on them anymore.

Matthew frowned at her. ‘I haven’t got a clue, Molly, that’s just what Dad said. That there were heaps of them. Towns, I mean.’

‘If there were so many towns, Matt, where did all the people in them go? Did your genius daddy ever tell you that?’

He fell silent.

‘Well, I don’t believe you. The mountains are deserted and they always have been.’ She folded her arms in front of her body. ‘Your dad was full of s**t and you’re an idiot to believe him.’

Matthew stood up abruptly and stalked back toward the last row of buildings, grey even in the eerie green glow. The grimy windows reflected the littered harbour with its ruined bridge. Overhead, a few fat drops of rain fell.