After The End

by Jamie Campbell

  “Stand back,” I warn.

  Sarah shuffles back a few steps and I pick up the log. It’s heavier than I thought it was. I stare at the top of the wall and picture the log soaring over the top. If I can imagine it, I can do it, right?

  Wrong.

  My first throw sees the log hit the wall halfway up. It falls back to the ground like a dead weight. My second attempt is slightly better but still fails to clear the top. I keep going, my arm grows more tired with every throw.

  Finally, the log brushes the top of the wall but still goes over to the other side. The vine rapidly follows it until it’s half gone. I feel like celebrating but it’s too early for that yet. We still have to climb the vine to get to the top. And it has to hold our weight.

  “I’ll go first and make sure it’s safe,” I say. “Once I’m on top, I’ll signal you. Then you can climb up too. Got it?”

  “Yep.”

  Again, I’m surprised when she doesn’t argue with me. I’m so used to the little girl having a million reasons why I’m always wrong. Either she’s tired or scared right now. I hope it’s just the former. The fearless girl is usually only worried when there is something to be really worried about.

  My hands are sore from throwing so they’re shaking when I grip the vine and place my feet on the wall. I’ve never had a need for a great amount of upper body strength. My legs have always been more important than my biceps. Right now, that fact is not doing me any favors.

  I climb at a staggeringly slow pace. Every inch of wall I move costs me more than I’ve got. All I can do is look up and hope the top of the structure is steadily coming closer.

  My teeth dig into my lip as I bite down. I refuse to complain, it will use up too much energy. All I have to do is get to the top and then I can jump down the other side. That’s all. Sounds easy, right?

  The wall may be strong, but it’s also slippery in patches. Algae or moss or slime is growing in the dampest patches—fed by the constant humidity that lingers in the air. I slip back a few inches every time I find one of those patches.

  Those patches are killing me.

  My feet slip once again and I almost lose my grip on the wine. I swing haphazardly for a few dangerous seconds before I can regain my footing and steady myself. My heart thunders in my chest like a thousand horses galloping down a raceway.

  “You’re almost there,” Sarah calls out. She’s lying. It feels like I’ve still got a mile to go. It may as well be that far.

  I place one foot in front of the other again and focus. If I think about finding the ships and the safety they offer, I don’t have to think about the constant ache in my hands. If I think about finding Garlind, it doesn’t leave room to think about what would happen if I fell from this height.

  Concentrate, Maisy. Just. Concentrate.

  I can do this. Inch by inch, I gain ground on the wall. The next time I look down, I’m closer to the top than the bottom. I’m almost there. Just a few more feet to go.

  Cuts open up on my hands as the vine bites into them. Blood leaks out and leaves a trail behind. Hopefully it dries before it’s Sarah’s turn to come up. I don’t want to scare the girl, I want this to look easy.

  But easy, it is not.

  My lip starts to bleed too. The metallic taste enters my mouth and reminds me I’m biting too hard. That’s good. I can focus on that too so I don’t think about what might be on the other side of the wall. Or the reason why it was erected in the first place.

  Another step and I can reach the top if I stretch up. I don’t, though. I’m walking a delicate line between balancing and falling to a painful stop on the ground.

  Just keep going.

  Garlind would be proud of me right now. He’d say I was being courageous and strong. It’s nice to think I’m doing something that he would approve of. If he were here, he would do whatever it took to get to Charleston too. He wouldn’t let a massive concrete wall stand in his way.

  A piece of Garlind will always be with me.

  But it won’t matter because I am going to find him. He is not going to be lost to me forever. I won’t let him be. Our paths will cross and I’ll completely forget about the few painful weeks I had to spend apart from him.

  I can finally get one leg up on the top of the wall. I use it for leverage and pull myself up completely so I can straddle the top. With one leg either side of the concrete barrier, I can finally see what’s is beyond.

  And it wasn’t what I was expecting.

  Chapter 21

  The road that we travelled continues on the other side of the wall. Trees line either side, just like we saw before. It’s like the wall was a complete afterthought, added to either keep something in or something else out.

  “What can you see?” Sarah asks.

  I spare a glance her way. There is worry written on each of the lines of her forehead. She looks so tiny on the ground now. How on earth is she going to be able to climb up all this way?

  “There’s more forest and road.”

  “That’s it?”

  “No, there’s more. I’m going to throw the vine down. Start climbing.”

  I lower the vine slowly so I don’t hit her with it. It slides into her hands and she wastes no time in starting her ascent. I’m impressed with how quickly she can climb. She might be little but she’s swift. She puts my slow climb to shame.

  It seems like no time before she’s sitting beside me. I place my hand around her waist to steady her. We’re not going to be able to jump down from this height. A fall might be deadly—depending on how we land. Breaking a bone is not out of the realm of possibilities.

  She finally sees what I do and gasps. “What happened?”

  “I don’t know.”

  There is a forest of trees laid out before us. Yet every single one of them is broken in half. The tops of the trees are bent over, a large seam separating them from their bottom halves. They are old and thick trees, it wasn’t a freak storm or accident that caused this.

  But what did cause it?

  I honestly have no idea.

  There is no path of destruction like a lightning storm could make. There doesn’t appear to be marks from a weapon such as an ax. There are no tire marks from heavy machinery. It appears all the trees just bent over and snapped one day.

  “We should get down and keep going. Charleston can’t be far away now,” I say. Over the tops of all the broken trees, I can see a faint glimpse of some buildings. We are so, so close.

  “I don’t like the look of this,” Sarah replies. She doesn’t seem to be able to take her eyes off the destroyed forest. “It’s not good. Maybe we should turn back.”

  “We don’t know what caused it. Maybe they built the wall to keep whatever did it away from them so they can’t do any more damage.” I’m grasping at straws but it’s all I have. We can’t turn back now. We just can’t.

  “Or maybe they tried to keep it contained.”

  “I’ve got to get to the beach,” I reply, ignoring all the logic in her response. “You can go back if you want to. But I have to go on. I’m not going to force you into anything.”

  I’m relieved when she shakes her little head. “I’m not leaving you. We’re a team.”

  “Okay then. Let’s not waste any more time, then.”

  I have to winch the log up from the ground and then lower it back down on the other side. The vine finds some purchase and holds long enough to let us abseil down the wall. It’s a relief when we’re both standing back on firm ground again.

  Our walk starts again.

  I try not to let my mind wonder about the broken forest. My sole focus is on Charleston. If I let my fears rule me, I would still be in the bunker. Those days are behind me. Garlind taught me to be fearless and I’m not going to let him down.

  We make it all the way to the center of town without seeing another soul. No animals or people. Nothing. It’s like a ghost town. Perhaps that’s because all the people have found ships? Maybe everyone that has come h
ere before has now been rescued. It’s possible, I guess.

  Sarah doesn’t complain but I can tell she’s on edge. She jumps at every sound and sticks unusually close to me. I hold her hand for reassurance which she returns with a smile. We’re a team, we can do this.

  At the center of town is an old marketplace. It’s a long building that sits in the middle of the street. Old faded signs are mostly covered by vines and foliage. They’re stuck on tightly so I can’t brush them away to read.

  We continue on and head toward the coast. I can only judge our direction by the position of the sun but it has done me well so far. The buildings here look old, like they could have been built hundreds of years ago. I bet it was a really pretty place before the world ended.

  As we round yet another corner, I see it for the first time ever.

  The beach.

  The sun is low in the sky which is causing it to have a brilliant orange glow. The sand is white and the ocean is blue—although everything is a little pink.

  The sea seems to go on forever. For as far as I can see and then drops over the edge of the world.

  It’s so beautiful.

  Honestly, the most wonderful thing I have ever seen. It’s no wonder my parents chose the beach to get married. It’s marvelous here. The sand is so soft and the breeze smells like salt. I collapse onto my knees and just stare at it all, trying to take everything in.

  How does nature ever get better than this? How could anyone choose to be cooped up in a bunker for the rest of their lives after they’ve seen this?

  I’m only vaguely aware of Sarah as she wanders down to the ocean and dips her toe into the water. It has to be her first time seeing the beach and yet she’s completely unfazed.

  I don’t ever want to leave this place. I love the way the wind makes my lips taste salty and the way it rustles my hair. The sand cradles me and runs through my hands when I try to hold it. The beach can’t be contained, it’s a free spirit.

  It was worth going through this entire journey just to see this. If I died never knowing this kind of beauty, it would be a terribly sad thing. My parents must have been miserable cooped up after experiencing this.

  A very faded sign reads FOLLY BEACH. It’s almost white but I can still make out the words—just. I can’t remember the name of the beach where my parents were married. I think they said it was the west coast so probably not here.

  I don’t know how long I sit on the warm sand. So long that Sarah joins me and starts to eat some crackers. I’m not even hungry. All I can do is stare out at the ocean and imagine all the places where it goes. All the other countries this same water has visited.

  It’s a magical place.

  The sun travels to my left and eventually disappears all together. It’s so dark on the beach but the moon does its best to shine brightly. The white glow moves on the waves as it gently laps on the shore.

  “It might rain tonight,” Sarah finally says. I’m pretty sure that’s the first thing she’s said to me since arriving—although, I can’t be certain.

  “There are no clouds. It’s not going to rain,” I reply. I finally look at her and see the concern on her face. “What’s wrong?”

  “I just think we should go and find some shelter. That’s all.” She shrugs, like it isn’t a big deal but I know her too well now. Something has got her worried.

  “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

  She shifts, uncomfortable with the question. “I just want to go. I get a weird feeling here.”

  She’s right, we can’t stay out here all night. I reluctantly stand and take her by the hand. We can come back to the beach tomorrow—it’s not going to go anywhere while we rest. It has been here forever and will remain here forevermore.

  It’s easy finding somewhere to stay for the night. The beachfront is packed full of shops and homes. We choose the nearest house with the greatest number of windows intact and break in.

  The inside is chaos. It’s like a pack of wild animals have come through and trashed the place. Furniture is scattered everywhere with half the walls boasting large holes. And this was the home that seemed in the best condition.

  Sarah doesn’t mention the mess and neither do I. We’re both wondering the same things but neither of us have the answers we need. We may as well get comfortable and wait for morning to come.

  Then we can find a ship and be rescued.

  Not seeing Garlind in the town center was disappointing. A part of me really hoped I would. Sometime soon, I’m going to have to accept that he’s gone for good. It’s going to break my heart letting him go.

  I’m not ready for that yet.

  Even if it is incredibly stupid and holds no logic, I’m going to believe I’ll see him again one day soon. A world without Garlind in it isn’t a world worth living in.

  We settle on the living room floor and secure the windows as best we can. Only one glass pane is busted in this room which made it the best one. The front door still locks, but I guess that means nothing considering there is no back door.

  To conserve our flashlights, we keep them off and sit in the dark. I’d do anything for a television to watch. We only had the computer in the bunker and used is sparingly because of the electricity it used, but it had movies on it. Watching one now would take my mind off everything else.

  A couple of hours pass before a flicker of shadow outside catches my attention. Someone walks in front of the moon and blocks it out for a moment. It’s too dark to see what exactly it is but it could be tall enough to be a person.

  I’m too scared to get my hopes up. Chances are it’s not Garlind. The more likely scenario is that it’s a stranger who is poses a very real threat to us.

  “I think there’s someone outside,” I urgently whisper to Sarah. She nods and sinks lower to the ground so her head is the only thing leaning against the wall.

  I lie down and try to shrink as much as possible. If we’re really quiet and if they don’t come in here, whoever is outside won’t know we’re here. Maybe they’ll walk straight on by and never think twice about this house.

  In hindsight, perhaps we should have chosen the worst house in the street. Then they might not even think once about walking on by—they’d just do it.

  I hear footsteps over the pounding of my heart. They are regular and sturdy. Not the footfalls of someone creeping about. They can’t know we’re here. Either that or they’ve seen us and just don’t care because we pose no danger to them.

  That wouldn’t be good.

  It’s impossible to know which direction they are going in. Left and right sound the same when they are just footsteps. Only when they start to get softer do I know they’re leaving the property.

  I sit up when I can no longer hear them.

  Motioning to Sarah to stay where she is, I crawl over to the window and peer over the sill. In the faint glow of the moonlight, I can’t see a thing but shadows. Nothing seems to be moving but I can’t be sure.

  All we can do is wait and hope they’re making their way far from here and never knew of our existence. The day has been physically challenging and I doubt I have enough energy to even swing my knife against someone’s attack.

  I return to Sarah and whisper, “I think they’re gone. Try to get some sleep.”

  She nods bravely but shuffles against my side when I lie down. I wish I could do a better job of protecting her. If I had a little sister, I imagine it would feel very much like this. In the grand scheme of the universe, we are still only very, very young. Trying to survive is not an easy thing.

  I stay awake for a long time while I strain to hear any sign of danger. My eyes keep flinging open and checking the window but everything remains black. We could be in a dark cocoon for the amount I can see.

  Morning eventually arrives after I get a few hours of sleep. I’m up at first light and check the entire house before Sarah wakes up. There is no sign outside of whatever walked by. Maybe I imagined the whole thing?

  We have a snack of chips
and peanuts which taste so exotic I want to eat every last bit we have. But I don’t, because I know better. The food will eventually run out quickly if we don’t ration.

  “What do we do today?” Sarah asks.

  I want to go back to the beach and watch the ebb of the waves all day long. I doubt the kid will go for that plan. Instead, I have to think of something better. “We’ll walk the shoreline and see if there are any ships.”

  “What if we don’t see one?”

  “What if we do?” I shoot back.

  She shrugs, probably knowing she has no chance of changing my mind. We came here primarily to get on board one of those Generation Ships so that is what we will focus on doing.

  Searching for Garlind will be my secret.

  We leave our trash in the destroyed house and head out for the day. I’m still wary of crossing paths with the person from last night but there is no sign of anyone. There are still no animals around the area, making everything deathly quiet. It’s unnerving not hearing even the twitter of birds in the air.

  It doesn’t take long before we see a ship.

  It floats impossibly high in the sky amongst the clouds—light, fluffy ones, little chance of rain. “Look. Up there!” I point until Sarah’s gaze goes to the sky.

  She squints against the sun and holds her hand up to block the glare. Finally, she spots it. “Oh my gosh.”

  “I told you there were ships in Charleston. This must be where they hover, waiting to pick up survivors.”

  Sarah suddenly jumps and waves, yelling to get their attention. “Over here! We’re on the beach! Come get us!”

  There is no way they can hear us being so far away. Yet I have the urge to do the exact same thing as the little girl. I fling my arms out to the side and wave them about, jumping as high as I can. We must be nothing more than teeny, tiny ants to anyone on the ship but maybe, just maybe, the right person will look down at the right time and spot us.

  The ship moves in a straight line upwards and disappears. It’s too far away now for us to see—let alone them see us. We stop waving and our arms go limp at our sides.