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Unknown Binding
First published October 30, 2020

The end of the world began on a Tuesday. I was at school, of all things, when the ‘big one’ hit. School. Nothing seems less important than obtaining a higher education when the world is crumbling around you. Despite the ongoing chaos the flares caused, Bev insisted that someone in our family graduate - because she never got to. And seeing as I was the only sibling who hadn’t yet fled the Tyranny of Bev, that someone was me.
“Everything okay Jones?” Mr Adams gave me a searching look as he handed me today’s biology reading. I nodded as Kamiko turned in her seat beside me and frowned. I ignored her, chewing on my bottom lip as I slogged through the text. It was more of the same ground we had covered in the previous class. And the one before that. The scientific community, well - what was left of it, had scrambled to make sense of the world since the solar flares started. When the impossible became possible scientists did math and ran experiments, hoping no doubt, to gain a sense of control over the situation. But there was no control. There was barely any understanding. Humans all over the planet were undergoing spontaneous genesis; taking previously unexplored paths of evolution in life’s last-ditch attempt to help save some of us, any of us, from the apocalypse that was upon us.
“Pffft.” Kamiko tossed her copy onto the desk, which was scarred with years of compass stab marks and biro graffiti. “We don’t need to understand how we came out of the ocean. We need to figure out how were able to go back to it.”
Typical. I was only halfway through, and she had already finished reading. Sometimes it was annoying to have an insanely smart girlfriend. I tried to finish the article, but it was impossible to focus with Kamiko fidgeting beside me.
“What’s the worst mutation to get?” Biology class bored Kamiko, and the more restless she grew the louder she spoke.
“Umm… I don’t know. I guess—”
“Dante Jones – do you have some wonderful insight on the article that you’d like to share with the class?”
“No. I—”
“Well then, Mr Jones, please leave me to do the talking, and you to do the listening. Okay?”
There was no point arguing. The whole class had turned to look at me as I sat in my usual spot in the back row. I hated their eyes upon me. I was more comfortable when I felt invisible - with my back to the wall and an eye on the exit.
“Yes sir.”
Mr Adams turned back to the blurry slide he had up on the antiquated projector. Laptops had become too unreliable since the flares began. I leant to my left and jabbed Kamiko with my elbow. She drew back and hid a silent giggle with her hands, her shiny black hair leaving the scent of coconut on the air.
“Troublemaker,” I mouthed, keeping one eye on Mr Adams. Kamiko’s brown eyes sparkled with mischief above her hands. Why did girls do that? Hide their faces when they smiled or laughed? Kamiko tipped sideways, bumping me with her shoulder and then leaving her body weight resting against me. I loved it when she did that. It always… centred me? Grounded me? It did something to me. It made me feel nurtured but also caused me to swell with protectiveness. It was a lot of feelings to arise from such a simple gesture.
When the bell rang none of us, including Mr Adams, had a better understanding of what was happening to the world. Kamiko and I strolled toward the refectory for lunch. Before the flares, the halls had been packed, swarming with students pushing and shoving each other between classes. I used to have to use my stature to cut a swath through the crowd as Kamiko tucked in behind me and laughed at the chaos that swirled around us. Now we could easily walk side-by-side, and we gave quiet nods to the sombre faces that passed us.
Two year-ten students hurried by, avoiding eye contact. Kamiko shook her head, her mouth pulled down at the corners. “There’s fewer and fewer of us each day.”
My gaze followed the students. One of them was absent-mindedly tearing down posters stuck on locker doors as they went. ‘Do you know someone who has undergone Spon-Gen?’ The posters said in bold red letters. ‘You’re not alone. Call 1300 Mutant for information and support.’ In even smaller letters below that was written ‘All calls are confidential.’
I dragged my eyes away from the casual destruction and looked at Kamiko. “School was a waste of time before the flares started. Now it’s just an exercise in futility.”