After The End

by Jamie Campbell

  “It’s okay. We’re all here. You don’t need to say anything,” I reply.

  We wait for a while longer as she lies quietly. Clare doesn’t make any effort to move and I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad thing. Whatever caused her fit could be making her ill. The fit itself could have damaged something inside her brain. It went for a long time and that can’t be good.

  “We should find a place to settle for the night,” I say to the boys. “We can’t go anywhere too far. Clare needs to rest and sleep as much as possible until she feels better.”

  River immediately stands. “We’ll find somewhere.”

  Garlind gets to his feet too. “I saw a building across the way. It should be safe and protected for the night. We’ll check it out first.”

  “Be quick,” I urge. Not because something is going to happen, but it frightens me to be with Clare alone. If she has another fit, I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep her on her side by myself.

  It’s very quiet without the boys here.

  “It’s going to be okay,” I say, maybe to me, maybe to Clare. “They’ll be back in a minute.”

  It’s more than a minute. More than ten, even. But the boys do eventually return and declare that they’ve found a place for us to stay the night.

  The building across the street is only two levels, but the windows are still intact. It’s long been abandoned and doesn’t seem to have been touched since the world ended. Nobody has bothered raiding it because there’s nothing but a bit of furniture in the space.

  River carries Clare all the way. She’s not exactly limp in his arms, but she’s not really actively doing anything either. I worry there is something seriously wrong with her. Something my rudimentary first aid skills can’t fix.

  We all curl up on the floor and share a few crackers. Clare refuses to eat, but she does accept some water when the bottle is placed up to her lips.

  River lays never to Clare while Garlind and I stick to the other side of the room. It was probably used as an office back before the meteorite. I wonder what they did here? Probably something boring like file tax returns.

  “Tonight is a good time to leave,” Garlind whispers in my ear. “They’re distracted.”

  My mouth drops open. “We can’t. I’m not leaving Clare when she’s sick.”

  “It’s the perfect time.”

  “I can’t. We’ll wait. There will be other opportunities,” I say and turn away, closing the conversation. I can’t believe he can actually think about sneaking away and leaving Clare in her sickly state. I couldn’t do it, even if I wanted to.

  Garlind takes a breath like he’s about to say something but stops himself. Maybe he’s learned by now when I will budge on something and when I won’t.

  I’m not budging this time.

  I lay down so I can still see Clare. River is cuddled up to her as she sleeps. At least, I hope she’s sleeping. Her eyes are closed and her face is relaxed. Hopefully in the morning she will wake up like nothing happened.

  Sleeping doesn’t come easy to me. Every time Clare moves or makes a noise, my eyes flip open to check on her. I’ve been alone so long that any sound or movement wakes me, even when I’m not worried about someone.

  I don’t know the girl, not really. She seems nice enough and that’s all I need to want her to be okay. Something terrible happening to Clare also means that it could happen to us too. What would I do if Garlind had a fit like she did? The thought of losing my one and only friend seems unbearable.

  River doesn’t sleep well either. A number of times when I startle awake, he’s doing the same thing—staring at Clare and looking for signs of life. It always takes a few seconds to see her chest rise and fall, leaving me in a panic for those moments.

  In the morning, I’m relieved to be able to get up. River is already awake while Clare and Garlind still sleep. He nods toward the door and I follow him outside.

  The early air is crisp. I fold my arms over my chest and hope that keeps some of the warmth protected. “How is Clare?” I ask. Someone needs to start the conversation and River seems intent on staring at the ground.

  “She slept all night. I think that’s a good sign, right?” He’s actually looking at me for an answer. Like I’m a doctor or know what the hell I’m doing.

  I shrug. “I guess. I don’t really know. I’ve never done this before.”

  “You seemed to know what you were doing yesterday.”

  “I read a book once, that’s all.”

  River continues to look at the cracked ground of what used to be a parking lot. The lines are almost faded away but I can still make them out. I wonder what it would be like to drive everywhere and not have to walk.

  I’ve never seen this side of River before. This pensive, quiet version of him. He’s normally so full of confidence and bravado. He’s normally angry and…scary. Looking at him now reminds me of a child. A child that doesn’t understand what is going on around them and has suddenly realized the world is far bigger than they know.

  His gaze flicks up to mine. “I want to thank you for everything you did yesterday. Something might have happened to Clare if you didn’t…take charge.”

  “I didn’t really do anything.”

  “You put her on her side and held her. That’s so she wouldn’t choke on her tongue, right?”

  He’s half right. “She could have vomited and choked on that. A patient should always rest on their side. That’s what the book said. I was just following the instructions.”

  “Well, thank you. I don’t know what I would have done if I’d lost Clare.” He looks down again, breaking eye contact. I’m not sure if this version of River is scarier than the angry version of him. He looks so vulnerable. Like the smallest thing could break him right now.

  He must really love Clare.

  That’s what love is, right? It’s knowing you can lose someone and be completely shattered by it, but you do it anyway. It’s a force that is not voluntary, but one that sweeps you away. To be in love is to be scared. Scared of losing that person one day, scared they won’t love you back. Scared of being so vulnerable that you may as well have a heart made out of fragile glass.

  “We should watch her closely,” I say. I’m not sure what else I can tell him. There is no way to make Clare any better. All we can do is hope.

  “Yeah. I should do that.”

  River hurries back inside without another word. I have no doubt he won’t take his eyes off Clare until she wakes up and he’s satisfied she is okay. She might have to do cartwheels before he lets her out of his sight again.

  Garlind emerges from the building about a second after River goes inside. I take a few breaths and prepare myself. He’s going to want to run away again and I’m not ready for it yet. It’s too much to deal with so early in the morning.

  “Hey,” he greets me.

  “Hi.”

  “It’s a bit cool out here.” He’s starting with the weather, is that a good or bad sign?

  “Yeah. I thought you said it would get warmer as we get closer to Charleston.”

  “I guess we’re not close enough yet.”

  Something that has been on my mind all night comes back to me. “The Generation Ships, will they have many doctors and medicines on board?”

  Garlind’s face lights up at discussing his favorite topic. I see this look every time I show a small amount of interest in the ships. “Yeah, they will. They have hospitals and surgeons and everything we need to stay healthy.”

  “It’s a pity we can’t get Clare to one right now,” I reply. If the ships do exist, they are a long way from where we are. There is nothing in the sky apart from some stray, fluffy clouds.

  I wait for the inevitable comment about having to leave today while River is distracted. I wait and wait, but it doesn’t come. Instead, Garlind says something completely unexpected. “We might still be able to find some medicine around here. It might help her.”

  My gaze snaps to him. Just when I thought I’d
figured him out, he still manages to surprise me. “Do you really think we’ll be able to find something?”

  He shrugs. “We can only try.”

  I jump onto it before he can change his mind. “I’ll tell River what we’re doing and then we can go.”

  Garlind waits for me while I rush inside and let him know. He doesn’t even seem suspicious of our sudden departure. Just yesterday he would have tied us up just to keep us here. Maybe I proved my loyalty yesterday.

  We head off together. I’m not sure what medication can actually help Clare, but at the very least a pain killer might help. We never know when any of us might need them too. Finding some medicine is smart.

  Most of the buildings look like food restaurants. A couple appear to be gas stations. I start to dream of having a car and being able to drive places. My dad said a person could start to drive from sixteen years of age. That means I could be driving right now if the world hadn’t ended.

  The concept of normal sure is different now. Walking is normal, but it wouldn’t have been back then. Walking was probably something only people that couldn’t afford a car did regularly. Dad said they were expensive to buy and keep running.

  I spot a restaurant that looks largely intact. The doors are closed and no windows are broken. That might mean food is still inside. “We should check over there for food. I’m starving.”

  Garlind stops to check it out. “Yeah, okay.”

  It seems a shame breaking a window and letting the outside world into the restaurant but there is no way around it. The doors are locked so we don’t have a choice. Garlind throws a rock through the pane closest to the door and smashes a hole big enough for us to shimmy through.

  Inside, it’s falling apart. Just like everywhere else we’ve visited, the building wasn’t designed to withstand decades without any maintenance and repairs. The roof is sagging dangerously in the middle and spiders have spun enough web to lay claim to the place.

  Don’t think about the spiders.

  Don’t think about the spiders.

  We didn’t have spiders in the bunker. Before leaving, I’d only ever seen them in books. I’ve seen so many now in these few days that I’m convinced they are now the dominant species.

  I step around a particularly large web, only to run head-first into another. I dance around as I try to pull the sticky mess out of my hair. I really hope the spider wasn’t in residence.

  “Stop playing with the spiders and start looking,” Garlind says with a smile. He helps to pull some of the web from my hair and shakes it off onto the ground.

  “I’m not playing,” I huff and stomp around the next web.

  This restaurant appears to be a bit fancier than the other fast food places we’ve checked. There are proper tables and chairs that aren’t bolted to the floor. Instead of a counter to order food, there is just a window out to the kitchen area.

  Like I said, fancy.

  It must have been nice to sit down and have someone take your order. Then they would appear with your food. It sounds so easy. No scavenging, no rationing, nothing stale and old. The world was a magical place back then.

  “Yes!” Garlind yells from the back.

  How does he manage to avoid all the spiderwebs?

  I find him way back in the kitchen, perched on the edge of a counter with his legs swinging like he’s a little kid. In his hands is a box with bright colors.

  “Animal crackers,” he says. “There are seven boxes and all appear to be good.” He pops another one in his mouth and then holds the box out for me.

  I take one, expecting it to taste like all the other crackers do—like cardboard. But there is actually flavor mixed with saltiness. It’s so good I want to eat the whole box.

  “We’ll take the rest back with us,” Garlind says around a mouthful of crackers. He’s thinking of the others now, which is surprising. Just yesterday he would have taken all seven boxes and insisted we run while we can.

  The more I get to know the boy, the more I like him. He’s complex and compassionate. There is no doubt I will follow him to the ships—even if they turn out to be imaginary.

  We search the whole restaurant but don’t find much else. There is another box of mayonnaise sachets but we leave them behind. Clare got a whole box yesterday which should last a very long time. We can’t eat the creamy liquid by itself for too long without being sick.

  Once outside again, we head further into the town in the hopes of finding a drug store. Every minute we take makes me more worried that something will happen to Clare while we’re gone. I really want to get her some medicine. She has to be okay.

  I hear a loud bang just as we leave yet another dead-end building. Garlind grabs me around my waist and pulls me back inside. There is no glass in any of the windows so the walls can only provide so much protection from whatever caused that noise.

  My breathing is quick and fast while I strain to listen. The noise sounded like something big had fallen over—or been tipped over. The only other people we know are in this area are River and Clare and I seriously doubt they are out there, walking around.

  Footsteps start to approach. They aren’t the tap-tap of shoes but the soft pad-pad of bare feet. Whoever it is, they aren’t in a hurry. They idly stalk along, searching? Listening? Trying to find us? My knees curl up to my chest as I make myself as small and hard to find as possible.

  Garlind crouches down on his ankles, ready to spring at any moment. He’s nearest to the door with all his senses ready and alert.

  The footsteps get closer. So close I swear they will walk right through the open door at any moment. Will they have a weapon? Did they find the others already? Clare is in a vulnerable state at the moment, she wouldn’t be able to defend herself. River would put himself between her and any danger which probably wouldn’t end well.

  Garlind straightens his spine to peek over the window ledge. I want to grab him back in case he’s spotted but can’t reach him. He lets out the breath he was holding as he slinks back down to sit.

  “It’s an animal,” he whispers oh-so-quietly.

  I’m not sure whether to be relieved or horrified. The thought of mutant monsters are still fresh in my mind from my parents’ stories. I risk a look myself. I need to see what we’re dealing with. The footsteps alone make me think it is a huge beast.

  I shift onto my knees and slowly rise until I can peek over the ledge. The animal is a huge gray thing with patchy fur that looks like half of it has fallen off. It’s got a big nose that’s sniffing the ground and a thin measly tail.

  I have no idea what it is.

  It’s sheer size alone gives it an advantage over us. All it has to do is charge at us and we will be bowled over. If it sat on us we’d suffocate. And that’s in the best case scenario.

  “What do we do?” I ask.

  Garlind peeks again and then looks around at the barely-standing building. He’s weighing up our options, I can practically see all the thoughts projected on his forehead. “We can go through the back. If we’re quiet, it might not know we’re here. Ready?”

  I nod.

  I want to be as far away from that…thing as possible. I can’t see its mouth but I’m sure it’s full of razor sharp teeth. We crawl toward the kitchen area as silently as we can. I’m sure it still sounds loud to the beast. At any moment I expect it to come tearing inside and rip us to pieces.

  But we make it to the kitchen and locate the back door. It squeaks when Garlind opens it. We pause and wait. Listen. Hold our breaths. Cross our fingers.

  The animal doesn’t find us.

  We go through the door when it’s as wide as we can fit and no more. Being outside doesn’t feel any safer. We’re more exposed now. Our scent can carry on the wind, directly to the nostrils of the beast.

  We hurry.

  Every building we pass is one more away from the animal. We stick to the back but head in the same direction we were going before the encounter. If there is any hope of us finding a drug store, it wi
ll be closer to the town we’re on the edge of.

  I never forget about the animal. Even when it feels like we’ve put enough distance between us, I still expect to see it around every corner. It will probably stalk my nightmares tonight too.

  Garlind is still wary. It’s evident in the way he chooses the paths closest to the buildings instead of walking in the middle of the road like we were. He checks carefully around every corner instead of just stepping out.

  It’s a long time before we speak again. “What was that animal?” I say, still quiet but not quite whispering now.

  “I don’t know. Something like a small elephant but…hairy. I have no idea what it was but I don’t want to see it again.”

  I remember the books I’ve read about animals and can remember what an elephant is. The animal we saw had the same legs but lacked the big ears and long trunk. It has to be a mutant of some kind. Perhaps a cross between a few different animals.

  I’m about to respond when I see the magical sign we’ve been searching for. I tug on Garlind’s shirt and point down the road where a faded red cross clings to a store’s sign. “A drug store. We’ve found one.”

  All thoughts of the beast are gone and replaced with hope. We rush toward the drug store and go inside. The lock on the door is broken but its windows are intact.

  It’s so dark inside that we need to use our flashlights. We split up and cover opposite sides of the store. There isn’t much left on the shelves. I pocket a couple of bandages that are dusty but probably useful. Most of the medication is gone, stripped from the shelves. Whatever might have been here before has been well and truly taken by now.

  Garlind reaches the counter first. I follow him into the back storeroom and we meticulously continue our search. There are several small boxes and bottles on the floors. More down there than remain on the shelves. Whoever has been here before must have been in a hurry and carelessly cleared the place out. They mustn’t have been looking for anything in particular.

  I have no idea what I’m searching for either. There are a few names I remember from the first aid book—Vicodin, Aspirin, and Tylenol to name a few. It’s these things I’m looking for first but will grab anything that looks even remotely like a pill.