by J D Stone
She dug around in it then pulled out an old quarter. It was the one she’d found on the road after the cannibal attack.
“Here,” she said, handing the coin to Ben; “I haven’t had a gumball in ages. Bring me back one, promise?”
Ben slipped the quarter in his pants pocket. “I promise.”
The blood sun sat low in the sky when the three said their goodbyes to Danna. A cool, salt-tinged wind stirred from the west, causing ripples across the fields of greening grass.
It didn’t take long to pack their things. The Arxians had washed their clothes; and Ben actually felt eager to get back on the road, if only to experience the journey wearing dry, mud-free pants.
And the sooner we get this over with, he thought, the sooner we can get back home.
Finishing their preparations early, they spent several hours going over maps and making plans. The Stranger pushed for Danna to be chosen as the next chief of security. Whit accepted the proposition without reservation; and after some grumbling from the other leaders about Danna being ‘just a little girl,’ they too came on board. Now all Danna had to do was heal.
The final farewell was short. Danna wasn’t much of a sentimentalist, so Ben knew better than to dawdle. Even so, she couldn’t hide her red eyes, and neither could he.
He knew how terribly she wanted to finish the mission, but also how terribly she wanted to see her little sister. She was literally stuck in the middle, at the Arx, torn apart.
Wasn’t meant to be, as the Stranger had said.
A crowd gathered to see them off, unlike when they had left the retreat in the middle of the night. Several weeping children had to be pulled off a squirming Ben.
It took twenty minutes for Ivan to clear a path through the minefield; and once he gave the thumbs-up sign, Cameron let off a quick burst of the dump truck’s horn and then they were off.
Ben would never again see the Arx.
High up on the tower, on the balcony next to the great American flag, stood Danna, leaning motionless on her makeshift crutch. Her raven hair blew gently in the wind, half covering her porcelain face and her glistening dark eyes.
As the dump truck rumbled out of the yard and through the gate, Ben watched her in the side mirror, growing smaller until she was just a dark speck alongside a waving sea of red and white stripes.
A dull ache formed in his chest, and he felt like the whole world had come to a crashing halt, and then without warning, a new world had begun to spin in the opposite direction.
He’d see her again, that much was sure. But what if I won’t be the same person? As hard as he tried, he couldn’t push that thought out of his mind for a long time.
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About the Author
J.D. Stone is author of the "Knight of the Apocalypse" series, which includes The Vagabond Codes and the soon-to-be released Apokalypsis. Born in Miami, Florida, and raised in Michigan, he now lives in San Diego, California. He earned his law degree from the University of San Diego School of Law and his undergraduate degree from Michigan State University. Before entering legal practice, he taught English literature at a private school.
