There are a few clouds in the sky tonight. When I pointed them out to Garlind, he said there weren’t enough for rain. I hope that’s true as there isn’t much out here to offer us shelter if we need it.
I walk with Clare for a time to relieve some of the boredom. We let the boys get a few steps ahead so they don’t overhear our discussion.
“Do you think you’ll sort things out with River?” I ask. I can’t help it, I need to know. I know I shouldn’t meddle, but perhaps talking it through with someone will help her feel better in some way.
She shakes her head. “It’s over. I can’t be with someone like that.”
“But you love him.”
“I thought I did.”
“He feels really bad about the whole thing,” I offer. They seemed like such a good couple. There are so few people left in this world. It seems like such a pity to lose each other because of an impossible situation.
Her arms are crossed over her chest as she walks. “He keeps saying he only did it to protect me. But that just makes it worse. It’s like he’s blaming me for the whole thing. Like if I could protect myself, he wouldn’t have had to do it.”
“I don’t think he meant it like that. His instincts were to protect the one he loved. When you were threatened, he reacted.” I can’t believe I’m defending him. I never would have thought that possible after yesterday’s terrible event.
“It doesn’t change anything,” she murmurs.
I’m not going to convince her of anything. But perhaps I’ve made her think about it in a different way. We all wish we could turn the clock back and avoid the amusement park but we can’t. Now, we have to deal with the fallout.
Especially River.
She huffs and I let her get ahead of me. I think she needs some time alone to think—which can be really difficult with us constantly on the move. There is safety in sticking together, but it’s not always fun.
This is the most drama I’ve ever experienced in my life. It’s the soap operas my mother used to tell me about. When I was little, every afternoon was our story time. She recanted the plot of her favorite show over a period of a couple of months. I always wondered if real life was as colorful. It feels like I’m getting a glimpse of it now.
I consider catching up with Garlind but I’m not sure I’m in the mood for banter. Even with the good solid sleep in the church, I’m tired and my body still feels like it weighs a ton. It’s all I can do to walk in a straight line.
The clouds are gathering stronger now. They are blocking out most of the moonlight so it’s difficult to stick together. I have to follow Clare closely behind in order to keep an eye on her. I could all too easily wander off into the night.
Footsteps are the only sound in the dead of the night. I keep listening out for animals that might attack but everything is eerily still. The world around us seems to have gone to sleep and left us alone.
I’m walking like a zombie when I hear the first sound of trouble.
Footsteps that are behind us.
They don’t belong to our group.
Chapter 13
They rush up toward us so quickly I can barely process what they are doing. I scream, “They’re here! Run!”
It’s so dark that I can’t see what is happening. I manage to catch a very fast glimpse of a face that I don’t recognize before they flash back into the shadows.
I run.
My first instinct is to find Garlind or Clare or River, but they are nowhere in sight. Everything is so dark and my head is screaming at me to run! As fast as I can away from the footsteps I don’t know. It has to be the long-haired boy’s friends and they aren’t here for a friendly catch up.
I’m dashing across the road and not slowing down for anything before I can think. I’m running blindly with no idea in what direction I’m going. I can hear people fighting in the distance and my sole hope is to get away from the melee.
Leaving my friends is a horrible thought but I’m of no help to them. I can’t fight and I have no weapons. All I become is a hindrance when all they need is help.
The trees on the side of the road give way to grass that whips by on both sides. I push the thought of snakes and dangerous creatures from my mind. They are the lesser of two evils right now.
Why couldn’t it be a clear night? Although, if that were the case the boys might have caught up to us much sooner. Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise.
My blood is rushing through my ears as I fight for breath. I have to stop, I can’t keep up this relentless pace. I risk slowing down until I come to a complete stop.
I listen.
My ragged breathing is the loudest thing in the field right now. There are no footsteps coming for me or grass that is being whipped around someone else’s ankles. Maybe I’ve outrun them. Maybe they didn’t see the way I came.
But that doesn’t mean I’m safe. I duck down to crouch on the ground and pull my knees up to my chest. If I can make myself into a tiny ball, perhaps nobody will ever find me here. If they go searching for the shadow that ran this way, maybe they’ll go right on past.
All I can think of is Garlind and the others. I hope they are okay and have found their own hiding place. It kills me not to be with them. I wish I could be of some help to the group. All I seem good for is providing rudimentary medical advice which doesn’t really work anyway.
A scream cuts through the still air.
I can’t tell whether it belongs to a man or woman. It could have been either but I do know they are terrified. What has happened to them? Was it Clare? She’s especially vulnerable right now. Did they take advantage of her?
People shout but I can’t make out what they are saying. They sound male, deeper and more menacing than I want to hear right now. Are they taunting? Triumphant? Making threats?
I cover my hands with my ears so I don’t have to hear it anymore. I want to sink into the ground and take everyone I know with me. The thought of the others fighting, being hurt, it kills me knowing they are out there.
Maybe I’m a coward running away like I did. I really tried to stick with the others but everyone disappeared so quickly in the dark. That’s not an excuse, though. I should have fought alongside them, even if I am as useless as a twig.
My heart pounds wildly as I rock back and forth. I thought I was scared before, but nothing compares to this. The darkness surrounding me could hide any number of monsters—both human and animal. This black shroud isn’t only protecting me but hiding everything from me too.
The noises and the yelling continue on. Covering my ears is worse than not hearing it. I need to know what is happening but I can’t bear to listen. I pray for it all to stop. Now. It can’t go on.
I sit here so long that it gets light. Morning peeks over the hills in the distance and the world starts to reveal itself. I am indeed in a field of grass. It towers over my head so it’s all I can see without kneeling.
There is no noise now.
Except for some birds. They are twittering away somewhere in the distance, happy despite all the horribleness of this world. They probably got a good night’s sleep and didn’t have to listen to screaming from their friends.
I push up onto my knees and peek above the grass. It’s swaying in the breeze that floats over us. The grass seems to go on forever in all but one direction.
The grass is flattened where I ran on it last night. It’s a trail that leads me directly back the way I come. I stand and look around, straining to hear for any sign of a human in my vicinity. There could still be friend or foe around now. They knew there were four of us, they could still be searching for the one loose end they need to tie up.
And kill.
There are no signs of anyone but the damn birds. I take a few tentative steps and wait for someone to jump out at me. When nothing happens, I continue on. My path out into the field was not straight but I can follow the trampled grass back to the row of trees.
I hide behind a trunk and creep closer, going from tree t
o tree until I’m certain the road is clear of people. Too clear. I can’t see anyone, including my friends. It’s like they all just disappeared and left no traces.
Wait, that’s not true.
Darkness stains the road in one spot. It’s next to a backpack that I think belongs to Clare. I crouch down to look closer. It was a liquid that has now dried. I scratch at it and my fingernail turns red.
Blood.
I’d so hoped it wasn’t blood, even though that’s what I suspected it was. There is a lot of it. Too much for just a scratch or superficial wound. Someone was hurt badly and lost vital blood that they needed to stay alive.
Was is Clare?
Garlind?
River?
If I’m overreacting and everyone is fine, why aren’t they here? Where did they go? All I can picture is the three of them being injured—or killed—and their bodies dumped somewhere by the gang of boys.
They said an eye for an eye, three deaths don’t equal one. They can’t have wiped out everyone I know and love in just one attack. Could they?
Of course they could.
Easily. They don’t know us. All they know is that River killed one of their friends and they needed to seek revenge. In the dead of night, they took it. Maybe they didn’t even realize I’d gotten away. Maybe they were satisfied that three was enough penance.
Sheer and utter panic rises within me. It threatens to cut off my airways and makes my head spin. My butt plonks down on the road and refuses to move. A part of me says I should hide in case danger is still lingering. It’s overruled by the despair that’s making a home in my chest.
They’re all gone. Every one of them.
I’d finally realized what it was like to have friends and connections in this world and they have been taken from me in the most brutal of ways. What’s the point in finding a ship or seeing the beach when I can’t share it with anybody?
They didn’t deserve to die like this. They were good people, even River. We were helping each other, we were going to get a better life so we could live happily ever after. Their stories weren’t supposed to end like this.
They really weren’t supposed to end.
Red hot rage overcomes me. Those boys had no right in killing them. River made a mistake in that fight, he defended himself against someone that wanted to kill him. It was not him who brought that knife to the fight. Not him that even started the fight.
Garlind and Clare were completely innocent.
They had no right.
I rise to my feet with my fists clenched. I want to hurt them. I want to hit something. I want to do whatever I can until all this pain no longer hurts me so badly.
The anger starts in my belly and rises up until I find myself yelling. “Garlind! Clare! River!” I repeat the names over and over again. If there is a miracle and they are still alive somehow, I need to find them.
If they are dead, then others should know their names.
I pause long enough to listen for a reply. Anything would do. A moan, a shriek, a cry of my name. But there are only the infernal birds with their chirpy good morning twittering.
“Garlind! Where are you?” My voice breaks and I can’t yell anymore. All I’ve got left is a croak that nobody can hear.
I spin in a slow circle, examining every inch of the surrounding landscape. How can they all have just disappeared like that? Why are there no more traces except for the backpack and blood spots? If the gang killed them, there should be bodies or some other evidence of the despicable crime.
Right?
There has to be some trace of their lives. They can’t have been wiped from this planet without a clue of them ever being here. Their lives were worth more than that.
Tears well in the corner of my eyes but I wipe them away quickly. Now is not the time to go to pieces. If I let a single drop fall down my cheek it will be all over. I’ll never be able to recover long enough to get over my grief.
What would Garlind do right now? After my parents, he’s the most sensible person I’ve ever known. Correction, the most sensible person I know. I’m not going to use past tense yet. He’s got to be still alive. He can’t be dead. I won’t accept it. Not without evidence.
So, what would he be thinking right now? If he’s separated from us, would he go backwards and retrace our steps? Or would he continue on to our destination and hope our paths will cross once more?
He would go forward. Garlind’s sole focus is the Generation Ships. Nothing would stop him from finding them. He certainly wouldn’t waste time in going backwards and further away from the ships.
So that’s what I have to do.
I leave Clare’s backpack where it lays on the ground. If she comes back to this spot, she will need it. All I do it set it upright and leave it underneath a tree so it’s out of the harsh sunlight. Then, when she returns, she’ll know someone moved it and still cares about her.
My thoughts aren’t exactly rational right now but I can’t think straight. One minute I’m convinced the others are dead and the next, I’m acting like they’re alive and just stepped away for a few moments.
I have to get out of here. The gang could still be around and I’ve yelled for so long that they could easily have heard me. If they are on their way back for me, it’s best I disappear completely.
My feet start running before my brain catches up. The sun is bright and hot in the sky but I barely notice. Every instinct in my body tells me I need to get out of here and that’s all that is controlling me right now. If I give myself over to the grief then it’s all over. I’ll stop and never go again.
I listen out for every sound that could belong to another human being. The birds fade out and my breathing gets louder. My footsteps are uneven from a night spent in an uncomfortable position. I’m in no shape for all this running.
The trees whirl past to my left and right. The road ahead of me never seems to change. It’s a long stretch of black tar with green spots where the foliage has made a brave effort to take over. I could be in any state in the country. Without my human map, all I can do is hope I’m still going in the correct direction.
The relentless pace can’t be sustained. I’m dripping in sweat when I finally allow myself to slow down. When I do, I realize there aren’t so many trees around here now. They are thinning out and giving way to a city. It’s bigger than the last ones we passed through but not nearly as big as Chicago was.
A large sign declares the town as Indianapolis. I’ve never heard of it before. It looks like it would have been a busy place once. There are roads going everywhere at the next intersection. How did people know where to go when there were so many options? I keep going straight and hope that leads me somewhere I need to go.
The buildings get taller and thicker the farther I walk. There are faded pictures of cars on billboards and advertisements for products that no longer exist. A vehicle would be fantastic to get around in. I’m so tired of walking.
The road cracks where vines and plants have made a valiant effort to break through. Sometimes it’s only a tree root that has made a mound in the tar, other times a tall plant has shot straight upwards and stands proudly like a bean stalk.
Indianapolis is being consumed by the natural world. Some buildings have already crumpled under the weight of vines and weeds. The birds that sit in the trees in packs seem happy as they sing. I really wish they’d shut up already. Today is not a day for songs.
The broken windows on either side of the road could be hiding a multitude of things that want to kill me. Humans could be watching me, waiting to see if I’ll be friend or foe. Animals could be stalking me, waiting for a moment to strike to they can have me for lunch. I’m exposed here but there is little I can do to hide.
Garlind would have a plan right now. He’d know the buildings we should search for supplies. He’d know what we would have to do to stay off the radar from anyone already in this territory. He seems to have a sixth sense about what it takes to survive. I’m the complete oppos
ite. I’m not going to last very long on my own in this outside world.
I briefly consider returning to the bunker but throw away the idea as useless. There is nothing left for me there—including food. I live in the outside world now and there is no returning to the sheltered life I once lived.
I really wish Garlind were here.
If we hadn’t gone into that amusement part, none of this would have happened. The four of us would still be together and we’d be further along to Charleston by now. Why did we have to go in there?
The tightness grips my chest again as I try to push the thought away. Right now, it’s important I keep going. Stopping to cry doesn’t help anything. It won’t turn back time and it won’t bring my friends back.
Still, the indelible sadness wants to whisk me away. What is the point of going on when I’m alone? I’m not going to be able to get the attention of a ship by myself. I don’t know the first thing about them. Garlind was supposed to be here, make sure we got on board.
I stagger to the first open door I can find and take a few steps inside. It’s as far as I get before my knees give out on me. I slump again the moldy wall and slide down to the ground. The infuriating tears don’t stop this time. There is no way to make them dry up.
Sobs wrack my body as I try to stay quiet. My instincts are always to be quiet, even when I was in the bunker. Noise creates trouble and I can’t have any of that now I am so alone in the world.
I miss my friends. Even River.
They didn’t deserve to die and I should have done something to help them. I should have stayed and fought, not run off like a little child. Even if I was useless, I could at least have provided a distraction, given the others enough time to run.
Through my weeping I pick up on some sounds. It distracts me enough to raise my head and listen more closely. Not just sounds, but voices. Outside. Not too far away.
Clare, River, and Garlind. It has to be.
I rise to my feet and get ready to run toward them. Are they to my left or right? All I have to do is step outside and find them. They are so close I can hear their conversation. They’re alive!
After The End Page 13
