ANYONE ELSE?: (ANYONE Series Book 2) A post-apocalypic survival novel

by Angela Scott

  With swiftness I couldn’t have imagined Marco possessing, he kicked over Dale’s camp stove, sending it flying across the dirt and speckling Dale’s shirt with the pot’s contents. “I said leave her alone!”

  Dale glanced down at his shirt before leaning forward, his arms resting on his knees, and locked eyes on Marco. “That’s going to cost you.”

  “Cost me what, exactly? We’re in the wilderness. I’ve got nothing to give.” Marco shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged. His act of bravery only lasted a moment. When Dale stood, Marco’s hands came out of his pockets and he took several shuffled steps backward, reverting into the old Marco I’d come to know.

  I wasn’t sure what Dale planned to do, but I stepped between them, ensuring nothing did happen. “Just stop. Don’t we have enough to worry about without adding male intimidation and stupidity to the list?” I turned to Marco. “I appreciate you sticking up for me. That was really nice, but it’s not worth causing problems, okay? I can handle myself.” I turned to Dale. “We were only taking my cat to the bathroom. You don’t have to be such a jerk about it.”

  Dale waved a hand at Marco and smiled. “Ahh, ain’t that sweet. I guess if you can’t get the girl to love you, then getting her to fight your battles is better than nothing, I suppose.”

  Marco’s shoulders slumped. His head lowered. Whatever fight he once had in him was long gone.

  True, Marco had his flaws and faults, but I couldn’t stand the way Dale treated him. “I’m not fighting anybody’s battles.” I poked him in the chest as hard as an index finger could. “I’m fighting you, you ass! You’re a giant … turd. Yeah, turd. That’s what you are!” Turd? Who says turd?

  Dad placed a hand on my shoulder. I hadn’t heard him approach, and even though I felt certain I’d handled the situation and had everything under control, except for the whole turd part, I was grateful Dad was there. “Everything all right out here?” Dad glanced from one man to the other.

  Dale raised his chin and placed his hands on his hips, the total tool, while Marco seemed to slink further into himself.

  Dale swiped a hand over his soiled shirt, flicking the bits of oatmeal away. “Everything’s fine and dandy.” His eyes, boring into Marco, said otherwise. “Someone owes me breakfast.”

  “You can have mine. I’ll make sure Toby brings it to you.” Dad kept his hand on my shoulder as he slowly turned me toward our tent. “Marco, I believe your dad was looking for you.”

  He nodded, side-stepped Dale, and headed off in the opposite direction. Despite Marco’s overly annoying personality, I promised myself I’d treat him better. His dad wasn’t the kindest of guys, and with Dale always on his case, Marco needed a friend.

  Not a girlfriend, heck no, but a friend was doable. This world sucked bad enough to be left with a bunch of a-holes who treated you like crap.

  Dad drew me away as Dale gathered up his camp stove and picked up his pot and utensils. He leaned near me and whispered, “Stay away from him.”

  I nodded. Sounded like a good plan.

  He squeezed my shoulder. “Actually, stay away from all of them.”

  Chapter 7

  It started out as a simple breeze, causing wisps of hair to dance in front of my eyes. I found myself constantly tucking my hair behind my ears, so I could see where to place my feet. I would’ve given anything for a ponytail holder. That was another of life’s simple and often taken for granted pleasures that no longer available or easily accessible in this new world of ours.

  At first, I welcomed the breeze breaking up the monotony of walking through the dense and muggy forest of the mountainside. Without warning, the wind grew stronger and soon hair in my eyes became the least of my worries.

  Callie struggled to walk at my side. The wind whipped her leash around so much I thought she might be carried into the air and turned into a kite. If trees and branches hadn’t flanked us on every side, I might’ve allowed that to happen. Walking a cat on a leash through the mountainside for hours and hours wasn’t an easy task even in normal circumstances. Darn cat!

  I scooped her up and shoved her into my backpack. Not an easy task either, but after a moment of her trying to remove all my skin from my exposed flesh with her needle-sharp claws, she gave in. She stopped fighting me as viciously as before, but her eyes reflected hatred and resentment. It seemed cats had one of two looks: indifference or death stare. Right now, she shot potent glares my way.

  Cats were definitely not man’s best friend. More like a furry enemy that humans determined to win over, regardless of the cost. I, too, had fallen for the cuteness of a kitten, and now I had to pay for it by carrying a stubborn cat around in my backpack.

  “Don’t give me any of that.” I tugged at the zipper with one hand while keeping her in place with the other. “I’m doing this because I love you, you stupid cat!” I zipped it closed while I still had the chance — and the desire. After a moment, her meowed protests stopped.

  “I’ve never been a cat person!” Marco called over the ever-growing winds. He stood next to me like he always did, but he kept his legs spread wide and his feet planted to avoid falling over as the wind pushed against us.

  I gave my scratched hands a quick look over—mostly superficial. “I’m beginning to think I’m not a cat person either!”

  “What?” He shifted around, trying to maintain balance.

  I waved him off as I slipped my pack over my shoulders and cinched the straps tight around my front. “Never mind!” The winds made even simple conversation difficult.

  We kept walking, though the increasing wind slowed our progress. At the rate we were going, we’d be off the mountain maybe by my ninetieth birthday, if we were lucky.

  Everyone struggled to put one foot in front of the other, and soon no one moved at all. Not because we didn’t want to, but because we simply couldn’t. It took all our effort to stand upright. We stood like statues among the trees, frozen except for our hair or jackets flapping around us.

  This wind reminded me of the huge tornado that nearly killed Cole and me shortly after we’d met. It almost sucked me out of our car! If not for Cole’s quick thinking — driving into the middle of an automatic carwash—we would’ve died. Everything in the area, except the carwash, was demolished or otherwise destroyed. Our survival had been nothing short of a miracle, a wondrous, thought-provoking miracle that left me wondering how it had even been possible.

  Calm down, Tess. This is different. This isn’t like before. I glanced overhead, above the canopy of trees, at the bright blue sky — normalcy. Okay, that has to be a good sign. Blue is good. The tornado I’d lived through brought darkness and lightening with it. These winds came from nothing. No clouds hung in the sky at all. Not even a puff of white.

  Yeah, blue sky is good. It’s totally awesome.

  I couldn’t let my mind go where it wanted to — tornados, baseball sized hail, weird colored skies, scorching sunrays, and piles of dead animals. No, this was different! It had to be. Richard’s weird instruments said everything was okay. I wanted and needed to believe that.

  It’s canyon winds. That’s all. Just canyon winds.

  Dad motioned to the trees. Even though he spoke no words — not that anyone could hear it anyway — we quickly understood.

  I dropped to my hands and knees, deciding that getting lower to the ground might make the process easier. When I turned my back to the wind for a split second, it caught hold of me. Like a giant shove from behind, it forced me down. I tumbled head over heels, unable to stop myself.

  My hands flew out at my sides, reaching for anything that would keep me from blowing away. Everything seemed just out of my reach or slipped through my fingers. No, no, no! My head hit the ground. My legs slapped the dirt as trees zipped by out of the corner of my eyes, leaving me dizzy and disoriented. Up, down, the world became disorienting.

  Dad’s hand shot out and grabbed my arm. He gripped the branch of a tree with one hand and locked his fingers of the other ar
ound my wrist, pulling and squeezing so hard I thought my arm might rip from its socket. Though my tumbling stopped, my feet beat against the ground like a bed sheet hanging on a line.

  I stared up at Dad, begging him with my eyes not to let go, but he looked beyond me. Fear creased his brow. His face reddened. The veins at his temples throbbed with his exerted efforts to keep me from flying away.

  What? What is it?

  I slowly turned my head to the side. Less than a few feet behind me loomed the base of a massive pine. Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap!

  I gripped Dad’s hand with both of mine, using every bit of unspent strength left in me. To hell with ripping my arm from its socket. I no longer cared!

  Deep lines wrinkled Dad’s forehead. His eyes pinched shut as he strained to keep hold of me all while dirt and debris lashed my body. I breathed it in through my nose and kept my mouth shut. Pine needles imbedded themselves in my jacket and backpack like tiny little menacing swords. I tucked my face between my outstretched arms and stared at the ground.

  Dad could only hold on so long. I knew this. With the increasing wind, it would be only a matter of time before he would be forced to let go. I had to get my legs beneath me. Allowing them to whip in the wind helped nobody. I dug my feet into the ground and pushed, one painstaking inch at a time.

  We can do this. We have to do this!

  I held onto Dad’s arm and twisted my body slightly as I pulled toward him. The toes of my boots dug into the ground. Come on!

  In an unplanned yet synchronized movement, timed perfectly, Dad yanked me to him in Hulk-like fashion. I slammed full-on into his chest. He wrapped one of his giant arms around my waist, squeezing me to him. I clung to him, burying my face against his jacket. I didn’t think I could possibly love my dad any more.

  He rubbed my back, his chin resting on top of my head. His chest heaved as it rose and fell beneath my cheek. The wind howled all around us. Never let me go, Dad. Never let me go.

  Callie could’ve been meowing and screeching like a feral cat from the safety of my backpack for all I knew, but the wind drowned out everything. If I knew I wouldn’t have ended up with a mouth full of dirt, I probably would’ve screamed, too.

  In small, precise, circular steps, Dad turned me until my backpack pressed against the tree, leaving him on the outside, holding on. I wanted to ask what he was doing but couldn’t. I tried to get him to look at me. He wouldn’t. Instead, he reached into a side pocket of his backpack, removed a rope, and wrapped it around the trunk of the tree and my waist three times. It took several tries and almost losing the rope twice before the snugness of the rope against my belly let me know I was secured in place.

  He only wrapped it around his waist once, connecting himself to me and the tree. He kept the remaining length of rope in one of his hands. Before I could grab him to keep him with me, he pushed away from the tree and disappeared.

  I shifted and shoved against the rope, not to free myself, but to see what was going on. I turned myself clockwise, partially in the wind and partially protected by the tree. Where is he?

  The rope from my tree to Dad stretched taut. Toby had his back pressed to a tree of his own. His heels dug into the earth, and his arms wrapped around the trunk behind him, hanging on the best he could. His fingers kept slipping along the bark.

  Dad battled his way to Toby, crawling on his knees while using his arms as a shield against the flying debris. He held onto the loops of extra rope in his hand. When he finally reached my brother, he whipped the extra rope around Toby and himself, lashing them both into place.

  Now I understood.

  Our trees weren’t that far apart. A length of rope between the two connected us together but having my father and brother even that short distance away scared me. It would’ve been impossible for the three of us to huddle behind one tree, but I would’ve liked to try.

  I hadn’t even thought about any of the others in our party. We didn’t have any time. With my head cranked to the side, I could see that most everyone had the same idea as Dad, tying themselves to trees or crouching behind large rock formations. Blocking ourselves from the directness of the wind seemed our best hope until the winds died down.

  Marco appeared to be crying from his tied position to a tree, his shoulders slumped and his head down. Richard and the others had their backs pressed to trees or rocks, doing their best to hold on. Marco looked up for a minute. His eyes caught mine and I smiled, hoping to convey to him without words that he needed to hang on and that it would be over soon. It couldn’t go on forever. Even the tornado quit after a few minutes. It would stop. It would.

  He squished his eyes shut again and his whole body seemed to grow smaller. His shoulders shook. Yes, he was sobbing, but I didn’t blame him. My own panic welled inside — that same stupid anxiety that poked its head at the worst times in my life. Don’t go there, Tess. Don’t go there. I tried to ease the familiar budding of angst that threatened to steal my breath and send my heart into a tailspin of rapid and crazy beats every time life handed me something hard.

  And this was hard.

  I couldn’t do anything for him. I couldn’t help any of them. I wasn’t even sure I could do anything for myself. The winds grew so much in their intensity that small baseball-sized rocks rolled along the ground past me. Debris in the air changed from dirt sized particles to full clumps of earth. I shifted until the wind was at my back and pushed against the tree, so it would protect me from the majority of everything flying around.

  I stared straight ahead and watched as large trees bent with the forces of the wind and smaller trees shot one right after another straight into the sky like tiny rockets. They became tiny dots in the sky and then disappeared entirely.

  My hands trembled, so I dug my fingers into the thick bark of the tree to still them. The roughness of the bark against the palms of my hands and fingertips had an oddly calming effect.

  It’ll be over soon. This won’t go on forever. It won’t. Just breathe.

  And if it weren’t for a tree roughly the same size as my own, thundering down from the sky above, taking out other trees and snapping off branches, and crushing everything in its path and landing less than fifty feet in front of me, I just may have convinced myself of my own words.

  The enormous tree smashed the ground with such impact that its vibrations raked over my body, working its way from my toes upward, rattling my teeth.

  My screams carried over the top of the wind when I noticed the rope tied around the tree’s trunk and saw an arm and leg sticking out from beneath.

  Chapter 8

  Dad! Toby!

  Had Toby and Dad’s tree blown upward like the others, the rope that tethered us together would have torn me in two, something I hadn’t thought about until that moment. I wished I hadn’t thought about it at all.

  I craned my neck in their direction because I had to know if they were okay. Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay!

  Their giant tree bowed with the wind. The mighty branches above their heads bent viciously, threatening to snap, but the tree’s roots remained deep in the earth. They both clung to their ropes and to one another.

  Then who is it? Who?

  The leg, jutting in an awkward angle from under the massive tree trunk, remained motionless, but the trembling hand splayed its fingers toward me as if begging for my help.

  My eyes widened. Oh, my God, he’s alive!

  Instinct had me wanting to run to him, regardless of who lay beneath the tree or the risk involved. The ropes around my middle locked me into place. I needed to help him! I tugged at my rope. It wouldn’t budge. I slipped my fingers into my pants pocket, searching out my small pocketknife.

  “Don’t be stupid, Tess. It’s not like you can lift the tree.” Cole’s clear voice whispered reality in my ear.

  “Cole?” I whipped my head from one side to the other. “Cole!”

  Of course, he wasn’t there, but that didn’t stop me from desperately wanting him to be.<
br />
  “Don’t be stupid.” The words came again. “There’s nothing you can do.”

  I froze with one hand on the rope and the other in my pocket, clenching the knife. What is happening to me? What is going on?

  Maybe I was going crazy. I had to be. Only insane or highly religious people heard voices. And since I wasn’t highly religious…

  But why now? Why now?

  The twitching hand flopped to the earth, unmoving. Still and final.

  A lump formed in the back of my throat, choking me. This can’t be real. This can’t be happening. I removed my hand from my pocket, squeezed my eyes tight, and leaned my head against the tree. I can’t do this. I don’t want to do any of this!

  I was seventeen, just a kid. Flying trees, dead bodies, and voices—it was too much! No seventeen-year-old could handle any of this. Any book or movie that portrayed us doing so was nothing more than ridiculous fiction and lies!

  Tears escaped my eyes. The wind carried them away from my cheeks like raindrops sliding over a windshield. This is too much! It’s all too much!

  Then, as if to prove it wasn’t, the ropes around my middle cinched tight, squeezing without reprieve.

  The torture of the ropes digging into my belly forced the lump out of my throat but stole my breath at the same time. Instinctively, my fingers grasped for the snake of ropes around my belly. Stop, stop, stop! I pulled at my bindings with frantic hands, hoping to release the pressure. The ropes remained tight, leaving no room to squeeze anything between them and myself. My body had become an obstacle of flesh and bone that the rope seemed determined to saw its way through.

  Ahhhhh!

  I looked to Dad and Toby for help, needing some sort of understanding as to why this was happening. They had the same horrified, painful expressions on their faces as they dug at their own middles. The rope, on their end, did the same thing to them as it was doing to me. What is going on?

  The rope that stretched from my tree to theirs had already been extended to its limits. The wind grabbed Dale and tossed him like a rag doll in our direction. The taut rope that connected me to my family caught him around the waist.