“Yes.” Shivering, he looked down. “Maybe if I was ever really of use to you, if I ever could be, this wouldn’t be such a great idea. But you can handle any obstacle that’s thrown at you without anyone’s help. All I’ve ever done is screw everything up and slow everything down and let—” his eyes squeezed shut “—let it come to this. A-and I can hardly call on you to make the judgment wh-when you’ve suffered such a horrible loss, and I-I can’t keep d-doing this to you.”
Trapping a sob in his throat, he clenched his fists. “I-I’m so sorry, about everything. I know this won’t make any of it better, but i-it can at least prevent more of it from happening.” Taking a deep breath, he forced a smile, as if that last idea made him altogether happy about leaving.
He didn’t realize how hard he was shaking until she threw her arms around him. Suddenly cold, he made a move to break out but paused. Maybe she was just saying goodbye. In… In that case, he could say goodbye, too.
Holding the lit torch out of the way, he wrapped his arms around her in return and hugged. A sense of horror took him when he realized he’d have to pry himself away from her now.
But he would. And it would be okay. Or, at least, it would be okay for her. That was all he could hope for.
Her mouth was by his ear. “Don’t leave.”
Halting in the middle of a breath, he froze where he stood.
She wasn’t letting go of him yet, but she pulled back enough to look him in the eye. “You’re not leaving.”
Once he opened his eyes enough to look at her in shock, she continued. “I am not going to stand here and watch you walk away. Do you expect me to just forget about you if you leave? I can’t do that, Arthur! I can’t leave you to your fate all alone. If you leave, I’ll go to find you, and—” she choked on a sob “—and this can’t happen to me twice. I can’t find Blake dead… a-and then turn around and… you…” Squeezing him painfully tight, she trailed off into tears.
He still had the wind knocked out of him, but he eventually managed to gulp down air. “But—but I’ll be okay. I can fight and get food—I’ve done it for years.” He swallowed, trembling. “You don’t have to come after me.”
“Why don’t you think you’re worth coming after?” She didn’t have the strength to scream, but she came close. “I could have left you behind ages ago! I could have left you behind and avoided all of this! Do you think that was just a whim? Do you think I would have done that if I didn’t care about you? Do you think I would have kissed you if I didn’t care about you? Do you think I can stop caring about you—worrying about you—once you’re out of sight? Do you think I can push you completely out of my thoughts in a heartbeat because I’m just that tough?”
He dropped his gaze. With an exhale, she caught her hand in his hair and nudged his head up to face her. “Arthur. Even if it’s the worst case—even if you are completely responsible for the death of my little brother…” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I still came after you. What on earth do you think you could do to me that’s worse than that? How much more could you possibly hurt me, and how could it be enough to make me want you gone?”
“I—” He shook. “J-just because it wouldn’t be as bad doesn’t mean I wouldn’t be hurting you!”
“It doesn’t mean you’d never help me, either!” She paused for breath and wiped her eyes on her sleeve before resuming her embrace. “And don’t act as if you’ve never helped me before. Don’t you remember saving me from Manfred?”
Despite his rising panic, he couldn’t break away from her gaze. “Y-you would have found a way out.”
“I would have eventually, but it wasn’t looking too promising at the moment. I told you what they were going to do to me. That’s not something I’d just recover from to go on my merry way. Even if I could have gotten out without you, I couldn’t have gotten out unscathed. Or do you think that wasn’t much to save me from?”
“I—” he choked “—I—yes, that’s a big deal. Er, I just… I… It doesn’t guarantee I’ll be much use in future.”
“Nothing guarantees anything about the future!” she retorted. “In the end, I don’t know whether you’ll hurt me or help me more. But I know you’ll only be hurting me if you leave.”
“Th-that’s not true.” He tried to step back, though he couldn’t manage it without dragging her with him. He stammered, scanning the brush around him as if trying to locate his argument. “It might hurt a bit if I leave, but there are so many other chances for me to wound you if I stay.”
She stood her ground. “Of course there are. But I will risk that, and I will risk it gladly. I will take my chances, if you are there with me, and you will be there, because I am not letting you go.” She slid her arms out so she could grip his shoulders, but she never turned her fiery gaze off his face. “If you walk away, I will follow you. If you run, I will find you. I am not letting you leave.”
His mouth had dried out, so he just stared at her. She didn’t look away.
“Charlotte,” he finally choked, because it was her. Maybe she wasn’t acting lively or optimistic. But she was still pursuing her goal—him—with a tenacity he couldn’t believe. She was still Charlotte. He hadn’t broken her.
He was bawling into her shoulder before he ever registered that he was about to cry.
Sniffling herself, she wrapped her arms around him again. “You don’t want to leave, right?”
Trying to straighten himself but unable to lull his sobbing, he shook his head.
“I don’t want you to leave, either. And neither does Dalton.” Shedding tears, she leaned her head against his shoulder. “So why are you trying to leave?”
He choked out a few inarticulate syllables before he shook his head again. “I’m not,” he got out. “I’m not.” He gave her one more tight hug before pivoting. Keeping one trembling arm around her shoulders, he took a moment before stepping in what he hoped was the direction of the cabin.
She reached to up to grip his hand as Dalton’s flashlight sent a swath of light ahead of them.
They had walked to the foot of the hill before Arthur had gathered enough breath to speak. “I’m sorry for troubling you when you have so much more to think about.”
She squeezed his fingers. “I was pretty much asking for it when I came out here.”
Nodding, he let out a breath and stroked her shoulder with his thumb as they walked on.
32
As the days passed, Charlotte spent most of her time in a weary daze, but the crying toned itself down. Smiling felt unnatural, but she made an effort to try. It made sense, right? Blake would have wanted her to smile; he had refused to worry her when he had known he was dying. Even when the world seemed faded, she had to try to see the brighter things, for his sake. No matter how hard it was.
She was sprawled across her mattress and staring at the flat, white ceiling when Arthur approached her.
Clasping and unclasping his hands, he started with her name.
With a grunt, she sat up and craned her neck to meet his gaze. “Yeah?”
He swallowed and stepped back. “Do you… Would you, uh… Would it be a good idea for us to set out soon?”
She eyed him for a minute without blinking. “You mean all of us?”
“Of course!” He cringed. “I don’t mean to rush you, but, um, eventually, we’ll have to leave, right?”
“Right,” she echoed immediately, although it took her a moment to continue. “I’ll have to move on eventually.”
He backed up. “I don’t mean it that way. I—Take however much time you need. Really.” He glanced at the wall. “It’s not as if I have anyone awaiting my return, but…”
She nodded, her gaze falling to her hands before she spied Dalton sitting by the wall.
“I guess there are still a couple of worried siblings left, huh?” she started. “Timothy and Rosalind both. I kept you from her a lot longer than she intended, didn’t I?”
Dalton juggled his shoulders. “Don’t feel like you
have to leave for my sake. Or hers—I’m sure Gramps is looking after her just fine without me. You don’t have to rush.”
“It wouldn’t be rushing.” She started to push herself up, but Arthur held out a hand. With a silent thanks, she let him help her up. “And maybe it’ll do me good to get away from here. We’ve already laid Blake to rest, so—” Her breath caught in her throat, and she had to stop for a moment. “There’s no reason to hang around here. I-I’ll visit him one last time, and then we’ll go, okay?”
Teary-eyed, she scrambled to get her bags together.
“Okay.” Arthur untwisted the duffel strap over her shoulder as she hurried to check all the zippers on her backpack. “Er, stay calm. We don’t need to leave that quickly.”
She slipped her arms through the backpack straps. “Right. Sorry.” She rolled her shoulders back after checking out her rifle.
“It’s fine.” Dalton was already packed up and by the door.
Arthur struggled not to break eye contact with Charlotte when her tears spilled over. “Are you sure you’re ready?”
“I ought to be.” She sniffled once before charging outside.
The deck clanged underfoot, and the ladder radiated heat from the noontime sun. Grateful for her gloves, she made her way down, Arthur and Dalton right behind her. Soon the three were going around the lake. The water gleamed as brightly as it had on the day they’d made it here. When she had known nothing about Blake’s safety other than what she’d heard from Lori.
How was Lori now? Charlotte couldn’t leave her here alone. The girl was only sixteen. That didn’t mean she couldn’t handle herself, but…
But knocking on her door without Blake in the party would be as good as telling her he was gone. Charlotte had promised not to—but could she turn her back on Blake’s best friend? Yet Lori had left Blake behind. She had gone out of her way to stay alone, if it meant not having to bear the weight of more friends dying. She was desperate to avoid the news, even if it meant hiding by herself. Could Charlotte justify ripping away the one bit of security that Lori wanted? This area was pretty safe, and Lori would be put in a lot more danger before she ever got to the village.
Still, Charlotte didn’t want her to be all alone, for the rest of her life… Which choice would be more cruel? What would break her less?
Running a hand through her dirty hair, Charlotte tried to take a deep breath. She could decide in a minute. Right now, the grave was approaching, and she wanted to devote all her attention to the final goodbye to Blake, whether she tried to say it out loud or just knelt by the plot and cried.
~*~
By the time Charlotte stood back up, mud from the grave had soaked the knees of her capris. Turning around, she wiped her cheeks and looked at Arthur and Dalton. She opened her mouth, but, after nothing came out, she just swallowed and started walking. They followed.
The three cut north to get out. This way was a lot hillier than the road in, but they wouldn’t have to pass Lori’s house. She probably wouldn’t be on the lookout, but Charlotte wasn’t going to take any risks. They didn’t have anything to give Lori at this point, food or otherwise. No way to help her without devastating her. She would be all right. Charlotte could visit sometime in the future without making Blake’s fate clear, right?
Trying not to look back, she picked up the pace, and, soon enough, the Texas 39 road came underfoot. She turned to head back east.
She would have thought that leaving Hunt the same way they came, without Blake beside her, would have made her sick. Maybe moving away from the tragedy in general made it a little less tough. She wasn’t sure. In whatever case, she needed to keep moving. People were waiting.
~*~
“I’m sorry I couldn’t find any more.”
Charlotte watched the paper plate of squirrel meat as Arthur set it down before her. “No, it’s fine. Makes a better breakfast than one bite of immunity jerky.”
With a nod, he stepped to his side of the table, his folding chair screeching against the concrete floor as it scooted it in. He cringed, wondering how Dalton had managed to do the same without a sound.
Charlotte let out an exhale, laugh-like, and forked her piece of meat.
Arthur toyed with his share for a moment before starting, “Did you sleep well?”
“Well enough.” She forced her butter knife through the squirrel. “I guess I still need to make up for the hours I lost right after…” She sighed and looked at the shed’s door, its poor-fitted edges admitting bright sunshine. “Sorry. I guess I shouldn’t be sleeping in so much when we have places to go.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Arthur said before glancing at Dalton. “Er…”
“Yeah, no problemo,” he jumped in. “As long as I make it home sometime, my sister should be happy. It’s got to be the same for your older brother, at this point.”
She nodded, chewing.
The rest of the meager meal passed in silence, and the three stacked their plates in the middle of the table before pausing. Arthur was more than ready to get going, but Charlotte hadn’t stood up yet. Surely she was ready to head out. She had just said there were places to go.
Yet she was sitting there and staring at the door, her arm draped over the back of her chair.
Arthur waited, tapping his fingers together beneath the table, until he couldn’t take it anymore. “Um, are you feeling well enough to travel today?”
“What? Ah, yeah.” She swung her head towards him. “I just…” She sighed and looked back at the door, her eyelids sinking. “Do I have to walk today?” She sighed again. “Sorry, that’s a stupid question.”
With a groan, she got out of the chair, although she still leaned on it with one hand. Arthur hurried over, holding out his arms as if to steady her.
“I-if you’re too tired, we don’t have to leave…” He wasn’t being too pushy, was he? Or too passive? He hadn’t really had to worry about this before, but now he wasn’t sure how well he was handling this. “It would be a good idea to make some sort of progress, but if you’re, uh…” Flinching, he reached out a hand to check her forehead, just in case.
She nudged his arm away. “I’m not sick, just tired.” She shook her head, removing her hand from the chair without quite straightening up. “Just tired.”
With that, she tottered towards the door. Stammering, he hurried over, unlocked the door, and held the panel open for her once he deemed the area clear. Then she was walking.
Arthur was sure it would be better for her to go home to what little family she had. She would be able to share her grief more with Blake’s other sibling than with those who had never really known the boy. And she would be safer behind the walls, with more friends around her, as well. And Dalton had to make it home, too.
But she was so weary—was it right to be making her do anything right now? Maybe if he waited a little longer, another week or so, she’d honestly be ready to go. But she was already moving now, so…
Biting the inside of his lip, he followed her outside.
33
“How about you, Arthur?” Charlotte glanced at the span of road behind her. As slowly as it seemed to pass underfoot, it was going by at a surprising rate. “You weren’t planning on medical school, too, I’m guessing?”
He shook his head, Dalton keeping pace at his other side. “Certainly not. I intended to be a playwright, although it’s more likely that I would end up working for a newspaper or some such thing. Editing, or writing, or criticizing movies.”
She looked back ahead. “You mean ‘critiquing’?”
“No, he means criticizing, believe me.” Dalton lifted his eyebrows.
“Yeah, I could see that.” She laughed.
Arthur nodded before turning back to her. “So as to not leave you out—what were your aspirations?”
She scratched at her scalp. “You know, I wasn’t sure. Timothy was going to U Penn for a business degree—thank God he was out for summer when the plague hit—and I kind of wanted to join
him there.” She paused, though she kept walking. “Wait, were you still in classes then, Arthur?”
“I—” he stammered “—I was staying with, uh, my relatives, the ones that live here. Lived. So, no, I wasn’t. Anyway, continue.”
“Okay. I also kind of wanted to try astronomy, but…” She exhaled. “I don’t know. I hadn’t decided yet. I was still in the middle of high school, so I wasn’t going to rush my decision until senior year.” She drew in a sharp inhale. “Never got that far, though.”
Biting his lip, Arthur put a hand on her shoulder.
“I at least wanted to graduate.” She sniffled. “I wanted to have to find a college. I want to have to fill out those forms everybody hated. I want to burn my rejection letters, I want to help my little brother through high school after me, and…” Breaking down crying, she hugged Arthur’s arm and tried not to get any snot on him.
He twisted and threw his other arm around her. “I’m sorry.” Swallowing, he stroked her hair.
After a moment, she pulled back. “It’s okay.” She wiped her nose. “It’s not like I’m the only one who missed out, right? I mean, you guys were paying for your education. Or I guess Dalton was on full scholarship.”
Arthur took a minute to determine if she had recovered enough. Then he responded, “Why would you assume I wasn’t on scholarship?”
“Because you weren’t.” Still sniffing, she grinned.
“Supposing I was.”
“I can tell by your face, Arthur.”
“How? Does it look stupid?”
Elbowing him, she started back on the path.
~*~
The sun glinted off the skyscrapers of Austin as Charlotte approached. She hadn’t seen them at this angle heading out. Hadn’t looked back. But she knew this had to be the city; Dalton was leading the way now, and it was difficult to keep up.
They wound through the streets soundlessly, excepting a few rifle blasts, and the rust-colored roofs of the university closed in. Dalton located the cafeteria without a second thought and strode to the front door.
Along the Winding Road Page 25
