June 18, 2605

Dear Emma,
We've finally arrived in the city. Our helicopter dropped us off about two hours ago. It's very quiet here, and not very pleasant, but it's safe. Nellie loves it here, however. Myself, I just wish that we didn't have to resort to these sort of measures. I've included pictures in this envelope, along with my commentary on them listed below. I'm sorry for their small size, as well (our old camera was lost in the confusion at the airport). I hope you find something to like about them. I didn't.

It was nighttime when I took this picture. We were flying in to the city. It's walled-in, with no entrances or exits. The infected people walk around in both the light and the dark areas surrounding it, begging to be let in. But we obviously can't do that. It's heartbreaking, but if only one gets in, the disease will spread.

When we landed, a police officer greeted us and led us down the street towards the Main Building. As we walked, I noticed the large antennae positioned all over the City. Later on, a kind woman told me that this was used by the police to stay in contact with the other walled cities in the world. There are three hundred and six of them exactly like this one, I'm told.

This is the first floor of the Main Building. You see, the Main Building (due to limited space) tries to fit most of the City in one tall skyscraper. This ground floor is basically what amounts to a common room, where everyone meets and sleeps. It's also used as a ballroom every once in a while. We don't have suits or dresses, but we can still dance.

This is the second floor, where people can buy and sell various things they find. Of course, it doesn't get much use. People like to kick the ball around, though. They sometimes take it out to the streets and play soccer. We're playing with them next Monday!

One the third floor is the tavern. This is by far the most popular level of the building, as you can imagine.

And finally, on the fourth floor, is the police station. We weren't allowed up there, but they graciously gave us a professional picture to include in this letter for you. They keep a small cache of ammunition up there, and there are wooden walkways leaving the room that act as guardian perches. They act as a secondary security measure for us.

We are settled in well enough, now, but I don't like it here. We're confined in this vertical prison, fearful of the dreaded sickness outside. Someone actually went mad and jumped over the walls, running into the dark, and it is presumed that she, too, is now infected. This place is driving everyone crazy.
What's worse, though, besides the moaning and sadness hitting our walls every day, are the rumours people are spreading. They're saying that a foul smell comes wafting up from the sewers at night, like in those old Sweeney Todd spook stories. I suppose that they just want to cause a scare, to keep from going mad themselves. Oh well, it's living, I suppose.

Love,
Tom Turner

MAP:
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