by Kate L. Mary
Walker slaps Ben on the arm like they’re old friends. “That’s a good tip, buddy.”
“Yeah, it is.”
Ben starts moving again, and we follow.
The closer we get to the houses, the more intense the pain in my stomach gets. Each step feels like my insides are being squeezed tighter and tighter. Pretty soon, I’m going to pass out from it if I’m not careful.
Walker grabs my hand, and I squeeze his like it’s the difference between life and death. I’m thankful I’m not alone right now. So glad Walker and Tara found me. He makes me feel stronger, and it isn’t just because he’s a guy or because I kind of like him. It’s because I have a friend, someone to lean on if all this turns out bad. I’ve missed that.
We reach the neighborhood that signals the start of Valdosta, but the center of town is still a few miles away, and the house I grew up in beyond that. I know these houses, though. Had friends who lived in this area. Now, it’s like a cemetery. The homes that were fairly new when the creepers came now look old and run-down. Abandoned. A lot are missing windows, and some have boards over every visible opening. Shingles have blown off of roofs, and weeds have taken over once neatly manicured lawns. One we pass has a hole in the roof from when a tree fell over. Possibly knocked down by a storm, but most likely from when the creepers came in.
I strain my eyes and look toward Moody Air Force base. I know it was there at one time, but now I can’t see anything other than charred landscape in the distance. It’s gone. Flattened by the creepers just like most of the other bases were. Just like I imagined it would be.
I’m not surprised, but it still makes my eyes sting and my stomach twist even more.
I fight against the ache in my legs as we move forward. My heart thumps harder and louder with each step, but I just cling to Walker more. We pass neighborhoods and get into the more commercial area of Valdosta. There isn’t much left, and what buildings are still standing look like they should be condemned. My mom’s favorite drive-through coffee place, Ellianos, is barely a shell.
The entire town is deathly silent. Occasionally, we hear a bird or another animal in the distance, and we even see a cat dart into a crumbling house from a hundred feet away. But there are no signs of human life.
“I hate this part.” Walker’s voice echoes through the silence like we’re deep in a cave. It makes my already rapidly beating heart pound harder.
“What part?” I ask.
“Going through an empty town. It’s easy to convince myself the world isn’t gone when we’re walking through fields and farmland. I can almost pretend that somewhere, off in some distant city, there are still people going to work and hating school. But when we walk through a place like this, it brings reality screeching back. It sucks.”
It does suck, and he’s right. Only this is more painful than going through any other town has been since the creepers let me go. This is home. My home. Where I was born and raised, where I fought with my sister and flirted with boys. Where I went to see high school football games and dreamed about going to prom. If it wasn’t for Lilly, I never would have wanted to come back and see it all like this. But for Lilly, I’d walk through fire.
“I wish I didn’t have to see it,” I whisper.
Walker squeezes my hand. “I know how you feel. Going back to my house was just horrible. I’m not sure I’ll ever have to do anything as hard as that.”
In this world I doubt he’s right, but I don’t say it.
When the first few houses in my neighborhood come into view, I drop Walker’s hand and practically run down the street. I know this area so well I could probably maneuver the roads with my eyes closed. This was an older neighborhood in Valdosta, but still nice. My dad had inherited the house from my grandma, and we moved in when I was five. Our neighbors were all natives of the area who lived in the same homes for years and years. Who loved their houses and kept them updated and beautiful. Who mowed their lawns and planted flowers with pride. It was a nice, middle-class family neighborhood where you could find groups of kids playing street hockey or riding bikes.
Not anymore. Now most of the houses have been burned down. Whole streets of them are nothing but cinder and charred wood. The houses still standing have black streaks up the sides like the flames of a fire licked at the walls, trying to claim more victims. Glass from broken windows has been scattered across the road and sidewalks. Ash blows down the street.
Please God, don’t let my house be gone. Let it be standing. Give me this one thing.
I move faster.
Walker keeps pace with me as I run down the road, then turn right. My house should be directly in front of me. All I have to do is round the corner, and just past a large group of trees and azalea bushes, it should be there. I won’t know if it’s still standing until I’m closer, though.
When I turn the corner, I almost collapse. My feet stop moving, and the world around me freezes like I’ve been caught in some kind of time warp that bends reality. It doesn’t even feel like my heart is beating or my lungs are pulling in air. All I can do is stare.
My house is gone.
Walker comes to a stop beside me, huffing from exertion. He stares at the black, skeletal remains of my childhood home, then turns to face me. The expression on his face makes me want to burst into tears.
“I’m sorry, Eva.”
I sniff and do my best to stop myself from crying, but my vision blurs and my eyes burn. My throat tightens, and I know that at any moment the emotion is going to burst out of me like a tornado. I try to swallow it down anyway.
“We knew it was a possibility,” I say.
Ben walks up and stands at Walker’s side. He blinks and focuses on where my house used to be. “This is it?”
“Yeah.”
“My house got burned down, too.”
I exhale slowly through my mouth. “What do you think did it? They bombed the Air Force base, but that was miles from here.”
“Could have been sparks. They get blown through town, catch some closer houses on fire, more sparks are blown to neighborhoods farther away. It just carries sometimes. Especially with no one around to stop it.”
“Makes sense.”
“What now?” Walker pulls his hat off and wipes his brow. “Your sister could still be hanging around if she’s waiting for you. Maybe she left you another note? Do you have a special place you two used to go when you were little?”
“Good point.”
I head toward the remains of my house even though the last thing I want to do is go near it. The chimney is still standing, but the once-brown bricks are blacker than night. At the back of the house, a small section of wall is still there. It’s part of what used to be the kitchen, and the charred remains of the appliances are still in their original spots. I walk by it without inspecting the rubble for any mementos. If there was anything left after the fire, the rain would have gotten to it by now.
I focus on the oak tree in the backyard. The small treehouse my dad built is little more than a couple boards now. The ladder has been ripped off, but the platform is still there. If Lilly was able to climb the tree, she would have left me a message there. It would keep her whereabouts secret from anyone else. No one passing by would bother climbing the tree to those unstable-looking boards.
“Give me a boost,” I say without looking over my shoulder.
“I don’t know, Eva. It doesn’t look safe.” He sounds like he thinks I’m nuts.
“I have to check, Walker. I can’t just leave her. Not again. If she came here, this is where she would have left me a note.”
“The ladder is down. How would she have gotten up there?” Ben asks.
“Maybe it wasn’t a year ago. I don’t know, but I do know this is what I need to do. If the situation had been reversed, if I’d been here first, I would have climbed up there to leave her a message.” I’m losing patience, and when I turn around to face Walker, he’s just standing there frowning at me. I raise my eyebrows in his direction, letting him know
I’m serious, and he finally sighs.
“Alright,” he says, cupping his hands and lacing his fingers together to hoist me up. “Come on, then.”
I flash him a grateful smile as I put my foot in his hand, preparing to launch myself off the ground. He counts to three, then lifts his hands while I push myself off the ground, raising my hands above my head. My fingers brush against the bark, and I push myself higher, finally managing to get a good grip on a branch. It’s thick and sturdy and shouldn’t have trouble holding me.
“You good?” Walker says through clenched teeth.
I dig my fingers into the branch and use all my upper body strength to pull myself up. My arms shake from exertion, and I grit my teeth when I brace my feet on the side of the tree, trying to use it as leverage to get myself higher.
“Almost.”
With one last burst of strength, I manage to get my arms over the branch and pull myself on top. The second I’m there, I collapse and try to catch my breath. My arms still shake, and my heart pounds faster than a speeding bullet. But I’m safely in the tree.
“You alright?” Walker calls up.
I hoist myself up to a sitting position and look down. “Yup.”
“How you going to get down?”
My eyebrows shoot up and my mouth drops open. Crap. “I hadn’t thought that far ahead. I’ll figure it out.”
“If you say so.” Walker shakes his head like he’s sure I’m going to end up breaking my leg. He may have a point.
I turn back to deal with the real issue, which is figuring out if Lilly ever made it here in the first place. Right away, I spot it. Her initials are carved in the tree, and underneath is the word Dixie.
I almost laugh.
“Find anything?” Walker calls up again.
“Dixie!” The smile on my face makes my cheeks hurt, but in a good way.
“Dixie?” he says, scratching his head.
This time, I can’t hold back the laugh. It echoes through the silent day, and a few birds take off from the branches above. They screech at me like I’m bothering them. I don’t care. Lilly was here, and finding her shouldn’t be too hard.
Assuming she hasn’t left.
“I’m coming down!” I lower myself onto the same branch I used to get up and lay on my stomach, then slowly inch backward until I’m barely hanging on. This is going to be tricky. “Can you catch me?”
“Shit,” Walker says. “I’ll give it a try!”
“On three. One.” I inch back a little more and dig my fingers into the bark. “Two.” My arms shake and ache, and I squeeze my eyes shut. “Three.”
I scoot back the rest of the way, then allow myself to slide back as I let go. Falling from a tree with my eyes shut is like being plunged into darkness. The wind whips up around me, and I bite down on my lip to keep from screaming. Then I slam into something solid, and Walker grunts. We hit the ground together with a dull thud that echoes through my skull.
“Damn,” Walker shoots off.
I open my eyes to find him grimacing under me.
“Are you okay?”
He reaches behind him to rub his back. “I’m okay. That could have been worse, but it still didn’t feel good.”
I roll off and scramble to my feet, and Walker pulls himself up behind me.
Ben is still standing off to the side silently. He blinks and almost looks me in the eye. “What’s Dixie?”
“Dixie was my sister’s best friend. She lived across town in pretty much the most beautiful house I’ve ever seen. I’m assuming Lilly is there.”
“You think she’s with Lilly?” Walker asks, still rubbing his back.
The smile melts from my face. “No. She died in the prison camp.”
He sighs like he’s tired of hearing that people are dead. He’s not alone. “Sorry.”
“Same old…” I shrug and try not to let it bother me. It’s been years, I should be over it. Right?
Walker stops rubbing his back long enough to arch it, and a cracking sound follows. “So where’s the house?”
“A couple miles back. We passed the neighborhood when we first got to town.”
“Don’t want to waste time, then.” Walker throws his arm around my shoulders and starts moving. “Let’s go, Ben.”
23
This time when we pass the burnt-out buildings, it doesn’t make me want to cry. Maybe the only thing that could destroy the joy flowing through me right now would be if we get to Dixie’s and Lilly isn’t there. Until then, this ridiculous smile is going to stay on my face.
“I like seeing you smile,” Walker says.
His hand slides off my shoulder and down my arm. He laces his fingers through mine and squeezes, and I grin up at him like a fool. Or maybe a little like the old me.
“If we find Lilly, you can expect to see a lot more of this.” I point to my face and stretch the smile wider. I’m fairly certain I resemble a terrifying clown, but it feels good to smile.
Walker’s own smile quivers. I know exactly what he’s thinking, but I don’t want to acknowledge it.
I pull my hand out of his and force my feet to move faster until I’m almost running. All I want right now is to get to Lilly. If only we had that technology from Star Trek and I could just ask Scotty to beam me there. The mile between here and Dixie’s house feels even farther than the two hundred plus miles we’ve already crossed.
When the neighborhood comes into view, I start to sprint. Walker’s and Ben’s footsteps pound on the pavement behind me, and I can hear them huffing for breath. But I can’t stop. I barely feel like I’m moving.
I turn onto Palmetto Street and spot the house in the distance. Even with the yard overrun and a few windows missing, it still looks glorious. Like something you only saw on TV, not a place real people lived.
“That’s it!”
I pump my legs harder. I have the urge to scream for her, but I don’t for two reasons. One, I don’t want to alert anyone else in the area, creeper or human, to our presence. Two, if she doesn’t come out, my legs will probably stop working and I’ll fall on my face.
The driveway is a half circle that curves in front of the house, and I run up one end, practically tripping over my own feet because I’m moving too fast. The front door was once painted a bright, friendly teal, but has now faded from sun and weather. Some of the white siding has been torn off, and the azalea bushes in front of the house almost completely cover the bay window. I strain to see in when I slow to a stop, but something inside is blocking me from being able to get a good look. Like someone has moved a huge piece of furniture in front of the window.
Walker and Ben run up behind me as I move toward the door, and my hand shakes when I reach for the knob. I turn it, but unsurprisingly, it’s locked.
“Should we knock?” Walker asks.
“We came all this way.” I take a deep breath and bang my knuckles against the door. Then wait.
Nothing happens, but we don’t move. I take a step back in case she’s upstairs at a window, trying to see who’s knocking. My scalp tingles like someone is watching us from a distance. I look around but don’t see a thing, then turn back to the door. Waiting. Holding my breath. Still no one comes.
I knock again. Harder.
“We can check the other doors.” Walker points to the side of the house. The privacy fence is still standing, but it looks a little worse for wear. It shouldn’t be too tough to get back there.
“Yeah,” I say, looking the house over once again. For some reason, it doesn’t feel empty.
I head that way and Walker follows, but Ben doesn’t move.
“What if someone sees us trying to break in and shoots us?” he asks.
“Lilly wouldn’t shoot us.”
I catch a glimpse of myself in the window when I go by and stop. Maybe she is watching us but she doesn’t recognize me. I don’t look a thing like I did last time I saw her. Not with my one-inch hair and all the weight I’ve lost. If anything, I resemble a ghost more tha
n Lilly’s big sister.
Maybe I should call for her…
“Let’s go,” Walker says, motioning for me to follow as he goes by.
Ben trails after him, and even though he’s still pretty expressionless, he seems a little worried. I’m last, but only because I can’t shake the feeling that someone is watching me. That it’s Lilly, but she thinks I’m a stranger.
We find a few boards missing when we turn the corner and squeeze our way through the fence. The backyard is just as overgrown as the front, and the once beautiful pool is filled with green, stagnant water. Algae grows on the surface and up the sides, and I’m pretty sure I can hear a few frogs croaking in the distance.
In the middle of the yard, someone has dug a hole and made it into the fire pit. Charred wood sits in the middle, and even though it doesn’t look too fresh, it had to have been used within the past few weeks. At least. A trail leads from the pit to the deck like the overgrown grass has been worn down by someone walking back and forth. It’s more than obvious that someone has been living here.
Walker heads up the steps and across the deck toward the sliding glass door, but just like the bay window, it’s blocked. It looks like someone has pushed the refrigerator and another big piece of furniture in front of it.
He stops by the door and scratches his chin. “Well, we can push it out of the way if we get the door open, but I doubt it’s unlocked. We could break the glass.”
“That could scare her,” I say uncertainly. I’m at a loss for what else to do.
“But you want to see her, right?” Walker raises his eyebrows.
“Yeah.” I shuffle back a little and give the house a once-over, but as far as I can tell there’s no other way in. Walker may be on to something.
“Might be our only option.” He pulls on the handle, but of course the door doesn’t budge. “Guess we’re going to have to break in.”
Ben grabs a decorative statue that’s sitting off to the side. It’s a cement frog that used to be bright green but is now chipped and faded. He hands it to Walker, who nods.
Walker tosses the frog back and forth between his hands a couple times, then takes a deep breath. “Here goes.”
