The museum back in the day had displayed historical artifacts of the New York City subway, bus, and commuter rail systems. Finding it under all the destruction had been a miracle. She never told anyone about her find. It would have been cleaned out and anything not considered useful destroyed.
There was damage to the museum, part of the entryway had collapsed but one vintage subway car and a few items that had existed in the museum’s gift shop had survived. This was where she would live if she could have chosen. But again, if her tribe knew about the place, it would be stripped clean. There was still some power and lighting which was amazing. There had been a few snack items, but Faith had taken that to share with her tribe along with blankets and clothing from the gift shop. Everything else, she left as her personal museum of treasures.
Opening her satchel, she took out the plate she had found earlier and placed it on a shelf she had managed to lean against the wall. Anything she found that was special, she would bring here to keep safe. Maybe one day, she would be able to share her finds with others who would appreciate the beauty, when art was once more valuable. If that day ever came.
Faith knelt and moved bricks from a section in the wall revealing hidden shelving. She took one of the cans she had found earlier and placed it inside the hidden pantry alongside other cans she had snuck there. Bottled water lined another shelf. After checking her supplies, she placed the bricks back in place. This was her backup plan for when things with her tribe became too uncomfortable. If Felix pushed her to leave, she had a place to go. However, she still needed to build up her supplies to survive at least a year without having to scavenge.
It was hard to make her way to the topside where her museum was located because she was always watched by her brother or one of the others in the tribe. Her time was never her own, unless it was like now, after everyone was asleep. She felt guilty about leaving, but at the same time, she needed this desperately.
Moving to the right of the hidden shelf, she made her way to her art space. She managed to hang up sketches and paintings she had worked hard to complete. She had sketched her life with her brother and parents before the nukes hit. Her grandparents before they both had died months apart from one another. The small paintings were of flowers and forests that she doubted she would ever see again in her lifetime. Then she stopped before the large canvas she had scored on a scavenging hunt.
This was one of the few unused canvases she was able to find. She had to reuse old ones, but this one was a pure white untouched fabric, that to her, was like finding water in a dry riverbed. Painting was like drinking that water and quenching her thirst.
She turned the lighting up to check her supplies. Her paint was a little dry, but she used a brush to mix it. Then she dipped another brush into the blue paint and touched the canvas.
She lost herself in the painting of something familiar as the sky and park where her parents used to take them when they were younger. This painting was personal and showed a Brooklyn she would always treasure. Simple times when she had no worries. Her parents took care of them, and she would laugh and tease her brother.
Felix had been her idol back then; she thought he could do no wrong. He would call her “Fay Baby” with such love. She didn’t know if he knew what the word love meant anymore. Faith stood back and looked over what she had accomplished and smiled. It was almost done. She just needed to find more green paint. That would be next on her list when she went out to scavenge.
“So, this is where you run off to.”
She jumped when she heard the man’s voice behind her, almost dropping her paintbrush. Turning, she watched as Nox moved farther into the museum. He was almost six feet tall and very lean. He kept his hair short except for a thick wave of brown that fell over his eye.
“Nox. What are you doing here?” She couldn’t help but glance behind him to see if anyone else followed.
“The couple was having sex again and woke me. I noticed you were missing from the sub car and figured I better make sure you were okay. I tracked you here.”
Nox was their best tracker. Rooster teased that he was a red-haired Native American and would scalp them all in their sleep to trade for extra food. Faith didn’t listen to half the crap Rooster said. She had overheard Nox tell her brother once about his family leaving the city for the mountains every summer. He learned to fish and hunt from his grandfather.
“Did you paint these?” Nox asked as he reached out to touch the smaller paintings.
She shrugged. “Yeah, it helps me let off steam.”
“It’s beautiful. Does Felix know about this place?”
“Nope and I’d like to keep it that way.”
“But surely he would appreciate your talent,” Nox insisted.
“He can’t eat it, can’t trade it, so it’s not useful.”
“I see your point. Still, it is vital for your soul.”
Looking into his face, she saw he understood. All this time, she thought she was alone in desiring something more than just food and warmth.
“Do you want a tour of the museum?”
He wiped a tear from his cheek and nodded. “I had no idea that this place existed.”
“It was one of the last trips my class took before the nukes hit.”
Faith led him to the one remaining antique sub car. “This one came from the 1800s, I think. There’s information about the museum but some of it corroded over time.”
“How do you have electricity?”
“There was a solar electricity system set up many years ago, but it flickers in and out.”
“It’s nice but small.”
