by Angela Scott
My hand stilled.
Dylan, the only other person I’d run into besides Cole, had told me about witnessing the government planes that swooped in and crop dusted those who’d survived the initial impact from the meteors. It was easier to kill those who’d been exposed to whatever made everyone sick than to save them—so their actions said. Would it have been possible to save every person? No. But it wouldn’t have been entirely impossible either. The government, what was left of it, chose not to try.
Was someone waiting for us outside? Would we be extinguished like a flame on a candle? I’d rather avoid those questions, but Toby, with his non-stop talking, forced me to think about all sorts of things that left me pondering my mortality.
“You know he’s got this place stocked to keep us all comfortable and alive for another year, and if we scrimped, we could push it to two. The meteors fell like what? Four months ago? Why the rush to run back out there?” Toby shook his head. “This is so stupid.”
I agreed with Toby. This was stupid. So stupid.
Toby punched his backpack and swung around to look at Dad. “How did you meet this guy, again?”
Dad’s shoulders rose and fell. He let out a long breath before turning to look at us both. “We’ve been over this already.”
Toby smiled. “Yeah, online prepper clubs and doomsdayer forums. Awesome. Don’t you remember telling me and Tess about being careful of the weirdos online? Pedophiles and kidnappers who’d cart us away and chop our bodies up into tiny pieces?”
Dad stepped toward him. “Enough! That man saved you both. Remember that.”
“He saved us only to kill us later. He’s no savior, Dad, so stop treating him like one.”
“Do you think that if I had any other choice that I’d be going along with this?” He pointed at my brother. “We should’ve all been in our own bunker, riding this whole thing out, but no. You didn’t come home like you were supposed to and I had to go after you, exposing both of us to God knows what and forcing us to accept Richard’s help because we had no other choice.”
Toby chuckled and tossed his hands in the air. “So, this is all my fault? Typical.”
“Stop it!” My body trembled. “Just stop it!” I couldn’t take their arguing anymore. It changed nothing. We were still at Richard’s mercy, and we were being forced outside whether we felt ready for it or not. We were way beyond placing blame. Stupid tears slid down my cheeks. “We’re all we have now, and this is how we’re going to treat each other?”
Neither of them spoke, but I could sense the tensions in our small room dissipate. Dad’s shoulders relaxed. Toby stared at the floor.
“We need each other now more than ever,” I said. “More than ever.”
Dad pulled me into his arms and kissed the top of my head. “You’re right.” He held one arm open toward Toby. It took my brother only a second before he stepped forward and allowed Dad to hug him as well. A family hug, something I knew I needed.
Something we all needed.
“We’re not going to be ready to go outside whether we leave now or whether we leave three years from now,” I said. “We’re always going to be terrified of what’s out there. Or worse, of what’s not out there. “
Toby’s bent head nodded.
“And,” I continued. “Richard says that in here he’s in charge. Outside, who says we have to stay with him and the others? If we have to, we can go back home. Our bunker’s still there. We’ll have to get more supplies because I ate everything that was half-decent, but the bunker is always an option.”
Dad kissed my forehead. “You’re right. We still have our bunker.” He looked at the two of us, quite serious in his approach. “And if anything happens, anything at all … we get separated or run into trouble … that’s where we go—the bunker. Got it?”
I nodded, hoping that would never be the case.
“Toby?” Dad waited for his response.
“Yeah, of course. So, we have a plan in case everything goes to hell. That’s good.” Toby continued to hug both Dad and me. No one wanted to let go. Not yet. “But what’s the real plan, though? What’s our goal?”
We all stood silent for a moment. What were we hoping to accomplish? Find civilization? People? Maybe the ultimate goal was to live like normal again. I was about to suggest these things, but Dad squeezed us both tighter.
“Our goal,” he said, “is to stay together and to live each day as if it were our last.”
“Put this in your bag, Tess.” Dad shoved a walkie-talkie into my hand. “Only pull it out if you absolutely need it.”
“Are we not supposed to have this?” I didn’t understand the secrecy.
“I don’t know.” Dad wrapped his hand around mine. “But with Richard, it’s better to be safe than sorry.”
Agreed.
I plopped my backpack down on the cement floor and shoved the small radio device into my bag, hiding it beneath a pair of much-too-big socks and a rain poncho. We weren’t given much to pack—Richard made sure he gave us only enough to survive—so no extra clothing or perks like that. Toby, Dad, and I weren’t supposed to be here and so we needed to be grateful for whatever Richard deemed us worthy to have.
While everyone else had their own pup-tents, tarps, and mess kits, Dad, Toby and I had to share. Complaining would get us nowhere, so we kept our mouths shut. We had our own food supplies, so we were grateful for that. We never really said it out loud, but it was pretty clear that when we could, we’d split from Richard at the first opportunity.
I, personally, couldn’t wait.
Strange how uncomfortable the open space, fresh air, and the sun on my face seemed. Nothing was natural about the bunker, but I’d grown used to the compact area, the artificial light, and smallness of it all. It may have felt claustrophobic, but now, outside, where I had no walls to set limits, no roof over my head, I wanted to run back inside and call the whole thing off. If only I had that power. But of course, I didn’t have any power at all.
Vulnerable, small, and insignificant—being outside made me feel all of these things.
The early morning sun stung my eyes. I squinted until I grew accustomed to the glare. Only sounds of a breeze rustled the leaves. No one said a thing as we all took a moment to adapt to our surroundings.
Outside shouldn’t feel this weird, but it did.
Dad squeezed my shoulder. I suppose he did it to ease my fears, but as much as I’d wanted to pretend everything was fine, I just couldn’t. Outside was freaking scary!
Richard was the only one who didn’t seem worried. Well, and Callie. The darn cat settled in my arms easy enough, but I held the braided make-shift leash just in case she got any crazy ideas.
Richard stretched his arms and took in a large lungful of air. “How’s it reading?”
One of Richard’s buddies, Brent, waved the wand end of a handheld machine in the air, holding it a bit above his head before sweeping it low. It clicked, beeped, and buzzed for a minute. “Same as yesterday,” he said.
Richard nodded. “Good. Dale, you have anything?”
Dale knelt on the ground with a probe shoved into the earth and looked up at everyone. “The usual.” He shoved the probe into a different spot. “No significant change since the last time we took a reading, but then again, this equipment is from the nineties, so who knows what we’re up against.”
“That equipment is just fine.” Richard shielded his eyes and looked toward the distance. “We should get going.”
I glanced at Dad, but he didn’t look at me. He gave my shoulder another squeeze before walking in front of me, following the others.
Toby stepped to my side. We walked a distance behind everyone else. “We’re trying to decide if the air quality is good enough to breathe and if the soil is contaminated based on some equipment that’s older than me. I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling super optimistic.”
I didn’t want to add more concern to Toby’s already growing list, but I’d seen enough in my shor
t time outside before coming to Richard’s bunker, that I knew air quality and soil contamination were only a few things we needed to contend with. Mother Nature was a bitch, and she’d caused some random things to happen that no one, and I meant no one, could predict or plan for. Whatever wiped out our cities and towns also caused weird weather patterns, too. I didn’t know why, and I didn’t know how. I just knew how terrible it could be.
Dylan’s last words before he died came to me. “Maybe we’re not supposed to know why things happen the way they do, just that we’re supposed to survive them.”
Of course, it was possible that everything balanced itself out, returning to normal since the last time I was outside, but I wasn’t counting on it.
One deer in a forest didn’t mean everything was right in the world again.
Only an idiot would think so.
Chapter 4
“I can’t wait to get back to living like a regular person. Go back to normal. I want to be able to walk to 7-Eleven and grab a Big Gulp whenever the desire hits. I want to eat at Chuck-A-Rama and stuff myself sick.” Marco spoke non-stop in between gasping for air. “A new movie! I want to sit in a theater with a bunch of strangers and watch a newly released movie on the big screen, while shoving popcorn in my mouth. Give me normalcy. Give me civilization. I’m ready for it.” He adjusted his large backpack on his equally large frame as we walked. “My bet’s on heading east. We’re bound to run into people if we head toward the east coast.”
Marco stayed at my side for several miles and talked the whole time. The only time he stopped was when I told him I had to pee. I ducked into the woods, hid myself behind a tree, and enjoyed the silence long after I’d done my business.
When I’d returned, he’d been waiting. Once again, he stepped next to me and continued talking about the things he would enjoy once we found society and people. Somehow, I didn’t think “going back to normal” would be that easy.
I mean, I hoped. Of course, I wanted to find people and return to life before the entire world went to crap, but I was also cautiously optimistic. I’d had too many experiences in the past few months to be anything else.
Toby glanced over his shoulder to the two of us.
I mouthed the words help me, but Toby only smiled, winked, and turned back around, leaving me Marco’s captive audience.
“What about ice cream? Wouldn’t it be nice if we could eat real ice cream, none of that freeze-dried stuff in a pouch?” Marco’s fat tongue slid out and he licked his lips. “Man, it’s hot. I could really go for some ice cream right now. Vanilla. Strawberry. Mint Chocolate Chip. Rocky Road. Then drizzle caramel on top with a big spritz of whipped cream to make it perfect. Maybe even a cherry or two. What would you want?”
I wanted him to shut up, but since that didn’t seem likely, I answered him the only way I could. “I just want a place to call home and for this to be over.” Callie grew heavy in my arms. I slipped her behind me to rest on the top of my backpack. Not much better, but at least it gave my arms a break. She sure was growing fast — not so much a kitten anymore, and I was beginning to feel it. “That’s what I want, Marco. I just want all of this to be over.”
My comment silenced him for a moment. Though not long enough. “Yeah, a place to call home would be great.” He looked at me. “Did your home get destroyed in all of this?”
Kind of a dumb question, but I nodded. “Whose didn’t?”
“Nothing left at all?”
I shook my head. “Nothing worth going back for.”
“Yeah, our whole neighborhood was flattened. Nothing standing at all. Could hardly believe it when I saw it after the initial wave of meteors hit.” His big head bobbed up and down. “I still think east is our best bet. You said planes flew over this way, so I’d say they probably came from the east. Don’t you think? Where else would they’ve come from?”
“Maybe the west?” I tossed out the suggestion just to throw him off on his “east is the best” tangent.
“Nah,” he said. “We’re too far west ourselves not to have seen something by now.”
What was he talking about? Three states stood between the West Coast and us. Yes, we were sort of west, but we weren’t west-west. “The planes could’ve come from California.”
He shook his head. “I don’t think so. Haven’t you seen the movies? Every time some big catastrophe takes place, California disappears into the ocean. I doubt it’s still there. It would be a complete waste of our time to head toward California.”
“And you think the East would be better?” I rubbed my side a little where the straps of my backpack dug into my ribs — the same ribs Richard had shoved a chest tube through.
“Of course. Only makes sense to head toward Washington D.C. or Philadelphia.”
Washington D.C. made some sense, but I couldn’t understand his reasoning behind Philadelphia. “Philly? Is that because you’re hoping for a cheese steak?”
His lips widened into a smile. “Wouldn’t hurt, but that’s not the only reason. We need to find our government leaders, find someone in charge, and then rebuild, start over.”
“And you think Philadelphia would be hiding our leaders?”
He shrugged. “That’s where our forefathers started this country. Why not there?”
Philadelphia, Washington D.C, who cared really? “So, you want to find the same people who left us to fend for ourselves and then flew above everyone, spraying them with a deadly chemical? Those are the people you want to find?”
He sidestepped a large rock to stay at my side on the trail. “Well, not those people exactly, but I want to find the government leaders that are trying to fix this.”
“I hate to break it to you, Marco, but I don’t think anyone’s trying to fix anything.”
He waved a finger at me. “You don’t know that.”
Sure, I didn’t know that … not for certain, but my gut told me I was probably right to believe it. “Don’t forget.” I pushed aside a branch and held it as he passed so it wouldn’t snap back and hit him. I might not like him, but I wasn’t mean. “Those planes weren’t trying to save anyone. Who knows what they’re capable of now?”
He shook his head and shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. Where there’s planes, there has to be people. If nothing else, it’s a place to start.”
I supposed it was as good a place to start as any.
I did my best to stay with everyone while listening to Marco, who matched my slowing pace. Whether he did out of the need to stay near me or because walking had grown hard for him, I wasn’t sure. I didn’t realize how far behind we were until the others stopped ahead on the trail and waited for us to catch up.
“You need to walk faster, so you don’t end up lost and turned around on this mountain. We don’t have time for that.” Richard spoke but kept his eyes on me. “We have a lot more miles to put in today. You best not be screwing around.”
I hadn’t thought I was screwing around. Okay, maybe when I’d taken longer than necessary to pee, but otherwise I kept putting one foot in front of the other just like everyone else.
Apocalypses sucked. Not only because of the obvious reasons — no food, water, shelter, society, luxuries, and the fact that lots of people were dead — but because apocalypses happened to include lots of walking and hiking. Not my favorites. This was hard! I hiked this mountain once before. Even though the second time should be easier, it wasn’t. If anything, it was worse.
The first time, I’d been walking toward my dad and brother. Now, I wasn’t sure what I was walking toward or what I would end up finding once I got there.
“I’ll do better,” I said, though I wasn’t exactly sure how much better I could be. It took all my strength to keep my current pace. Going faster seemed impossible.
“Let’s hope so.” Richard turned and waved everyone forward.
I went to take a step, planning to do my best to keep up. Dad placed a hand on my shoulder, stopping me.
“I think you tend to forget that T
ess fought for her life a little over a month ago.” Dad didn’t move. Neither did Toby. Even Marco seemed conflicted — follow his dad and the others or stay with me. Go with your dad. Go with your dad. “She’s not in the same physical condition as we are. You can’t expect her to keep our same pace.”
Richard turned around again. The other men stepped to the side of the trail, seemingly unsure of a position to take. In their indecision, they kept silent.
“Why don’t you go on ahead? Toby and I will stay with Tess, let her rest for a moment, and then we’ll catch up with you later.” Dad handed Callie off to Toby before he unclasped the latch of my backpack, slipped it off my shoulders, and placed it on the ground. “We won’t be more than an hour behind you.”
“I could use a rest, too.” Marco started to undo his backpack. Richard shook his head at him, and he stopped. “Or I could keep going, whatever you decide.”
Richard let out a long-drawn breath. “At this rate, we’ll never get off this mountain.”
I opened my mouth to say that I was fine and could keep going, even if I didn’t feel that great. I wanted to stop any arguing and nix the building tension. Dad squeezed my shoulder gently and I said nothing.
Dad undid his own backpack and allowed it to drop to the ground. “I understand that we’re all in a hurry, but there’s no point killing ourselves in the process. Whatever is out there will still be there in an hour. And if there happens to be nothing, then an hour from now won’t make a difference. Go on ahead. We’ll catch up.”
Richard glanced above him, at the sun slipping further in the sky. “No, we’ll wait. We could probably all use a break. I’m going to look and see if I can find a stream, so we can filter water and refill our bottles.”
Marco smiled and dropped his pack to the ground before flopping down beside it.
