The Big Empty - Softcover

Stephens, J. B.

3.68

723 ratings by Goodreads

Softcover

ISBN 10: 1595140069 ISBN 13: 9781595140067

Publisher: Razorbill, 2004

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One year ago, a devastating plague called Strain 7 killed three quarters of the human race. Around the world, power systems failed and supply chains screeched to a halt. The surviving population of the United States has been relocated to the coasts; the heartland is now a wasteland called The Big Empty. But seven teens trying to put their lives back together will learn that the abandoned zone holds danger, secrets, and above all, hope.

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As Michael Bishop came out of the subway at West 4th Street and made his way toward the small Greenwich Village apartment he shared with his father, he realized that he would never make it back to the apartment before curfew tonight. Once the curfew hit Manhattan, the city just about rolled up its sidewalks, but he didn’t intend to stay with Maggie after what he had to say to her. Michael had been dragging his feet on this breakup for weeks, caught in a mixture of guilt, obligation, and lust.

As he noticed his buddies Kenny and Jeff manning Father Demo Square in their military fatigues, he wished he could stick around to play a few rounds of cards. Michael had befriended the local crew of soldiers after he and his father moved down here from the Upper West Side, after the electricity shortage had made it too costly to run elevators up to the thirtieth–floor penthouse that Michael and his parents had once called home.

Now, after the relocation, Michael and his dad were lucky to have scored a third–story walk–up in the Village. “It’s like a return to the Gilded Age,” his father had said, trying to make the most of it. “Did you know that around the turn of the century Fourteenth Street was the hub of the city? People considered it a trip to the country to venture above Fiftieth.” Typical Dad, clinging to old Manhattan’s charms.

“Hey, it’s the Bishop!” Kenny straightened from his perch on the square’s park bench and touched his fingertips to his chin.

Michael returned the gesture—a form of greeting that had surfaced when the spread of Strain 7 made handshakes dangerous. “Guys, what’s up?”

“Just another pleasantly boring afternoon on the Isle of York,” Jeff said, tipping back his helmet. “The president says the relocation is a success and life is good.”

“It’d be better if girls started wearing short skirts again,” Kenny said as he eyed two girls in flowing ankle–length skirts heading toward Sixth Avenue.

“Prairie–wear,” Jeff muttered. “You know, I grew up in Kansas and our girls didn’t wear skirts like that.”

“It’s reaction fashion,” Michael said, watching as the girls passed a middle–aged, greying man lost in thought.

It was Michael’s father, his briefcase tucked under the sleeve of his elegant jacket, a fall suit from two years ago—before the virus. Dad must have finished with his meeting downtown. Michael waved, but Dad didn’t seem to see him.

Graham Bishop didn’t notice much these days. He refused to acknowledge the unpleasant realities of life in New York. He simply didn’t see the soldiers in the streets or the fires burning above Columbus Circle or the hungry people lined up for food outside the school auditoriums. A brief glimpse of high–voltage reality would shoot Dad’s entire disposition to hell. No more of that “Think positive!” and “Sunny–side up!”

Although his father drove Michael crazy, making him jump through hoops in the office and pay service calls on alarms that should have been dismantled months ago, Michael did have compassion for him. He was lonely with Michael’s mom gone, and underneath that cheery facade, Michael realized he was scared.

Everyone was scared. People dealt with it in different ways. Michael befriended soldiers and people who could get their hands on coffee beans and the guys who drove the subway trains. He was determined to make allies in this new world.

Graham Bishop used his energy to deny that there was a new world.

“Hey, where’s that pretty girlfriend of yours?” Kenny asked Michael. “I haven’t seen her around for a while.”

“Yeah, and you probably won’t,” Michael said. “Which is why I might be late getting home tonight. Got some things to take care of. Think you can slip me in under the bar?” It never hurt to clear the way. With martial law in place, penalties for the tiniest offense could be severe.

“No problem,” Kenny said. “We’re here all night.”

“What’s the matter, Bishop?” Jeff asked. “Maggie dump you?”

Michael took in a deep breath. “I wish.” He’d been putting off the big breakup until he felt Maggie was on solid ground, getting used to being on her own.

“What?” Jeff adjusted his gun belt. “Don’t tell me you’ve got another girl.”

“Nothing like that.” Michael didn’t want to get into the complicated reasons for breaking up with someone you’ve outgrown. “I’m just trying to streamline my life. More work, less play.”

That made both soldiers laugh. “Yeah, right,” Kenny said sarcastically.

“Seriously. Dad is bringing in a government contract. They’re talking about letting us wire half of D.C. with our top–of–the–line alarm system.”

“That’s impressive,” Kenny said. “Would you put in a good word for us when you’re wiring the Oval Office?”

“No problem,” Michael said as he headed across the square to the apartment. The sooner he got changed out of his work clothes and back on the train, the sooner he’d be finished with this whole awkward episode in his life.

I won’t miss hanging out up here, Michael thought as he passed a boarded–up pizza place on West 49th Street where he and Maggie used to grab slices and sodas after school. Now the rich aroma of pizza baking had given way to the burnt smell that wafted down from uptown, where the fire department let fires rage unchecked. Michael had seen it happen to the towering glass apartment building that used to face their penthouse. That was when he knew the mayor’s orders had to be heeded: move downtown if you want any form of city services.

His feet followed the familiar path west, to the eighth–floor apartment Maggie had taken in the reorganization. For a long time after the virus had passed, it was nice to be up there with Maggie after the curfew, to feel her, warm and soft beside him, in the flickering candlelight or the dim glow of a camp lantern. Maggie had a gift, a way of shutting out the world and making him believe it was just the two of them. And Maggie’s grandfather had never seemed to mind when he stayed over, although sometimes it was hard to tell if he’d even noticed in the first place. Even before the virus the old guy wasn’t completely there, always drifting in and out, occasionally talking to ghosts of his past.

Sometimes Michael wondered if Maggie was all there herself. She just didn’t seem to be able to get that life was different now. Michael was sick of telling her that it pissed him off when she cut school or when she skipped the lines at the free kitchens and used up her grandfather’s valuable cash and coupons at the local deli. She always just laughed it off, even when he blew up at her after she burned up batteries in three flashlights for a disco ball effect. He began to wonder if they had anything in common anymore, anything to keep them together, other than the fact that they had been together before the virus.

Then Grandpa Logan had died of a stroke a few months ago, and Michael felt an increasing sense of dread about what that meant for him and Maggie. He was all she had. It gave him an overwhelming sense of responsibility—one he had never really signed on for. And Maggie had grown even more reckless, more difficult for Michael to be around without getting frustrated or angry. He didn’t want to play her games, or pretend everything was still the same, or take risks. He wanted to navigate this new world successfully, to thrive. It was time to move on, to figure things out and get his future together.

So this was it—he’d finally decided he was going to do it, make a clean break. They’d had something together once, a long time ago, but it was already way past the expiration date.

Michael was so focused on his breakup speech that he almost didn’t notice Maggie up ahead. Tucked into a group of her local friends—losers as far as Michael was concerned—she giggled as one of the guys jammed something into his jacket and followed her into Henry’s Deli.

“Maggie!” Michael called from the street, but she was already inside. He cut over to the deli, skirting around a man in a sandwich board with the scrawled message: The end already came! Did you miss it?!

Just as he reached the deli, its door crashed open and Maggie’s three friends burst out, their arms full of groceries. Where was Maggie?

“Tony!” Michael called to one of them.

The kid glanced back nervously, then took off running after the other two.

What the hell was going on? Through the window Michael didn’t see anyone in the shop, though the place was a mess. Dented cans of cat food and baby formula lay sideways on the shelves, and a box of candles had spilled out onto the dirty linoleum, along with a few packages of AA batteries. The shop had been trashed.

He pushed into the deli and immediately saw the cash register gaping open, empty. A few yellow government–issue coupons had drifted to the floor, but it was clear the place had been robbed.

Maggie’s loser friends had robbed the deli.

“Oh, man,” Michael whispered aloud. This was not good.

“You!”

Michael swung around to see Henry, the owner, stumbling toward him, a hand pressed to the back of his head. Someone must have clocked him.

“You . . .” Henry seethed, closing in on Michael. “And her!” The deli owner pointed as Maggie emerged from a door behind him—the bathroom.

Michael held his hands up to Henry as the scenario became clear. Those stupid kids had set her up. Get Ma...

From School Library Journal:

Grade 7 Up–In the very near future, a devastating virus has killed off more than half the human race. In the United States, a military dictatorship has taken over, moving the population toward the coasts, away from what has been renamed The Big Empty. Seven teens come together in what used to be Clearwater, MO. Keely, Jonah, and Irene are there looking for Novo Mundum, which seems to be a commune of intelligent, creative sorts who don't want to follow the martial law of the new and unelected president. Diego, a local, has been shot by soldiers after refusing to evacuate. Streetwise Amber is 15, pregnant, and looking for her ex-boyfriend. Michael and his about-to-be-ex-girlfriend, Maggie, meet up with the group when they flee their comfortable lives in order to avoid execution for a crime they didn't commit. Stephens's dystopian vision is all the more frightening because it's not outside the realm of possibility. The adventure is filled with little details that set it firmly in the next few years, and all of the teens are smart and resourceful (except for Maggie, a living, breathing clich� who absolutely refuses to admit that the world she knew no longer exists). The ending leaves the door wide open for further volumes. Give this one to fans of Jennifer Armstrong and Nancy Butcher's "Fire-Us" trilogy (HarperCollins).–Mara Alpert, Los Angeles Public Library
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