“Then why are we going there. We could stay here. Or go back where we came. It least we will die on our own land and on our own terms,” Sheila said to me laying her head on my shoulder.
“Don’t talk of dying. No one is going to die at least not today,” I said to Sheila holding her hand and lifting her up from the sidewalk. “Let’s look around. We need shoes.”
We eased the bike down on the broken sidewalk, and walked around peeping into storefronts, kicking aside drifting paper and plastic bottles. One street looked like the next. Finally, after walking for an hour, we saw a small shoe store. A boarded up building with rotten wood looked like the owners expected to return. I pulled down the wood and looked through the cracked glass window. Inside the store, shoes scattered around. I picked up the nearest part from an old car and threw it at the window. The shattering glass could be heard for miles as the sound echoed through the streets. We climbed in and searched for our sizes.
“That didn’t take long,” I said discarding the old boots that had saved my feet and life. It was with that boot I clubbed the snake to death. I had to put those boots to rest like everything that had out lived its usefulness. The thought of the snake reminded me that we needed to eat and get back to the bike. I pulled the last bit of meat out of my sack. “This is all there is of the meat,” I said showing Sheila. It was only a hand full. We can live on the water and the meat, both amounts can take us to New York. But we will have to be careful and ration it.”
“I don’t eat much and I’m not hungry,” she said.
“I won’t hear of it. You need as much or more than I do to keep up your strength,” I said.
Handing the food over to Sheila, she reached for it and scoffed it down with water. She was trying to pretend that she didn’t need much food. She was good and hungry. Walking to the end of the block, I turned in a circle. “I don’t remember where I left the bike.”
“I think it was to the right of that building,” she said pointing at the windowless brownstone building.
“No, it couldn’t be. Weren’t you watching?” I said my voice seething with anger. She turned her back shivering and crying. Her moan fell on the empty streets and reverberated around the buildings. “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault. Don’t blame yourself. It was my decisions to leave the bike.” I held her in my arms rocking her to give her comfort. “We’ll find the bike.”
We walked around backtracking where we had come from, and recognizing familiar markings like the small green building where the newspapers were setting in a bundle. “There it is,” I shouted. As we ran to it and got near, my eyes narrowed, and my heart sank. The bike wasn’t where we left it. We stood panting for breath and our eyes met. “There are others here. I don’t know what they are or how they survived. We can’t take a chance. Without the bike, we will have to walk to New York and that means we need to find the next well,” I said, sure of one thing…
“Where is the well?” Sheila interrupted my thoughts.
“It’s somewhere in this city.”
“In one of these apartment buildings,” I said. “I don’t know which. There are markers, but we have to find the street. I don’t know where to start.” I turned and turned trying to gage what it is I was looking for.
“But that could take a long time. We don’t have much time,” Sheila said. I glanced up and the sky suddenly turned black. “What is happening now?” I asked Sheila. “Have you seen this before?”
“Yes. We had better take cover. Now!” And she started running for the nearest brownstone. I took off after her.
“What is it?” I question breathing hard.
“It’s a lightning storm. There will be heat and moments of quiet. No wind, just heat. And then it will begin.” As she finished her statement, a bolt of lightning struck the building. There was no thunder just lightning bolts hitting everything. Cars set ablaze and structures of wood burning. The small newspaper building where we were standing was the first to go. A fierce bolt of lightning hit it hard. You could hear the sound of lightning breaking. The black smoke rose covering the already dark bleak sky. The smell of burnt wood rising and settling on us. The city on fire, and we had to find water. When lightning came too close, Sheila shuddered in my arms.
“We need to find out if this building has a basement and get in there,” I said. We stood from our cowering position and rushed down the dark hall holding on to the wall. I pulled out a small LED light and we found the stairs in the back, and we moved cautiously down, down, until our feet hit concrete. We looked around the crowded basement. Garbage, empty plastic bottles, old furniture, tables, chairs, clothes, and a smell of death and body fluids. My eyes caught sight of the chrome handles on the bike. “We need to go, we need to get the bike and get out of here,” I said.
“Why?”
“There is the bike and we didn’t bring it here. I can smell someone.” I said in a loud whispered.
“No. I brought it here.” And a figure holding a LED lamp stepped out of the darkness. His body thin, a young man with the face of an old man—pale with black eyes causing his face to appear sinister. His hair white, dry as straw like the stuffing in a scarecrow. His clothes slightly torn but in good shape. He was an inch taller than me and when he spoke he had a raspy sound to his voice as if he was a smoker. His dark eyes were cloudy with a film covering them. He had the longest fingers and they had flat wide tips. I remember thinking that his fingers reminded me of pictures of animals in the zoo. “What are you doing here?” He said in a low menacing tone.
“We’re on our way to New York,” I said to him, holding my arm out across Sheila’s chest to protect her and prevent her from moving forward.
“To do what?” He asked.
“To live of course,” I said. When he smiled his teeth were yellow and a few were missing.
“There’s nothing there,” he said in a gruff tone and then lowering the light from his face.
“What do you mean there’s nothing there? I have papers saying that everyone that makes it to New York will have all the water and food they can eat.”
“And you believed the government?”
“Why would they lie to the people?”
His gaze landed on Sheila. “You’re with him?” he said pointing. And she nodded and held on to my arm. “Stay with me. This boy is going to get you killed,” he said smiling at Sheila in a way that made my skin rise with chills. I could feel Sheila’s hand tremble with fear.
“You shouldn’t talk like that to her. Can’t you see she’s fragile,” I said to the man.
“I thought she should know the truth,” he said eyes locking on Sheila. “How are you going to get water to take you there? You don’t have food.”
“We have enough…” Sheila said. I lowered my arm and tightened my grip on Sheila’s hand to prevent her from saying anymore.
“Look, all I want is my bike and we will leave.” I took a step closer.
“It’s over there,” he said pointing in a dark corner filled with clothes and junk. When I made a move to walk in the direction of the bike, the man tripped me. He rushed to pick up a pipe and gave me one hard solid blow to my face and another to my leg. He raised up his hand to deal a blow to my head and I rolled out of the way. “All I want is the contents of your backpack and that bike. Then you can go on your way,” he said standing over me with a plastic pipe in one hand and his LED lamp in another. For some reason, I didn’t believe him.
“We can’t do that,” I said. I knew when he attacked me that wasn’t all he wanted. He turned gazing at Sheila and then down to me on the floor.
My attention diverted to Sheila, who had picked up a brick and was inching closer to the man. He turned quickly and hit her across her shoulder with the white pipe. She fell dropping the brick. He stepped closer to her to hit her once more. And with his back to me, I jumped to my feet and grabbed him in a choke hold. I snatched the pipe from his hand and took him down with me to the floor. He wasn’t as strong as I was. I could feel h
is strength draining as we fought on the floor. We rolled around and I tried to keep him from reaching another pipe. I was unsuccessful. I hit him in the eyes, preventing him from biting me. When he extended his hand and reached the pipe, I lunged on his back, wrestling the pipe from him.
I had managed to take the pipe from his hand, and with him on his back, I gave him a whack across the head and one across his legs to immobilize him. I stood over him and continued hitting him until he didn’t move. Standing over him I was breathing loud.
When Sheila woke from the floor, she screamed. I could see shock flooding her eyes. It was a sad scream. It was a deafening scream. I placed my hand over her mouth to quiet her. She calmed and stopped, but her breathing could be heard over my words. “We have to go,” I said. She stood wide-eyed looking down. I had no time to tell her that the man would have killed us. I grabbed my backpack and Sheila’s hand.
We pulled the bike up the stairs and out of the apartment door. Our energy drained. I revived the bike up. Still in a daze, I motioned to Sheila to climb on and without hesitation she did. There was no time to check the gas and I would forgo looking for the water because as long as we had the bike we could make it to New York with enough water and hopefully enough food.
In my excitement and desperation, I didn’t keep up with the mileage, food, and water. That was Shaun’s job but he wasn’t here and Sheila was out of it. She looked like a soldier that had seen too much and had endured the loss of everything and everybody. I couldn’t ask her to do more. Just her presence gave me hope and strength.
We rode and rode into the night and day. Days faded into nights. We stopped for only minutes at a time. The scarce meat, the scarce water had dwindled to nothing. And now the bike sputtered and finally stopped.
When I checked it, I discovered that the bike had been outfitted with an extra gas tank. It was strange finding that bike with gas that took us to our destination. Was it fate? Was it destiny? I wondered. What difference did it make? We made it.
The air was different. The sky was different. I could breathe without tying a scarf around my mouth. There was the smell of fresh fish. And a sound of water falling. We were getting closer to water. I saw green grass for the first time in my life, but no flowers. I heard the sound of rushing water. I expected to see a lake or waterfall but no such luck.
We dropped the bike and stumbled in the direction of the sounds of water. Lured by the freshness in the air and the blueness of the sky, we strolled slowly, smiling, as if we were entering into the Garden of Eden. There were signs everywhere. One said: Welcome to New York. Taking in all of the sights, we walked and walked until we became tired. Another sign came into view. It instructed us where we could get food and water. We saw lines of people waiting at a border crossing. Guards stood nearby to just check them with a nod. They didn’t stop anyone that wanted to go into New York.
We looked at each other and smiled. We were finally here. “We’re ok now,” I said to Sheila. Her grip tightened on my hand. The lines were moving quickly and in fifteen minutes we were behind three groups of families, some with four children, a mother, a father, and a grandfather.
“How far did you travel?” I asked with excitement in my voice. The man turned with a sullen face.
His sunken eyes looking through me, “Too far.” His mouth turned down at the corners. And he lurched forward waiting for his turn into the gate. The wind changed and the smell of cooked meat wafted through the air. We raised our heads taking in the glorious smell.
Sheila smiled at me, “You said you would take care of me. You kept your promise.” I looked on her with a contented smile. I did it. I felt proud that I had survived long enough to find someone to love and have a family with. I am no longer a child. I’m a man, I thought.
But then the wind changed, and the smell of cooked meat turned to something I recognized. That smell reminded me of an experienced I had before. It was the smell of hair burning. A shiver came over me from my head to my toes.
The family in front of us had passed the border crossing. When it came time for us. I stood still. I looked at Sheila with a worried glance. My eyes narrowed and my brow furrowed like a farmer’s field before planting. “What’s the matter?” she asked looking at me, her stomach making a noise, and her lips parched. Her tongue rolling over her lips.
“I can’t go in there,” I said.
“But we have no choice. I’m hungry and thirsty.”
“We do have a choice,” I said to Sheila. “Do you trust me?” She looked at me and didn’t answer. Could she trust anyone or any man after her father put her out to wander and die?
I stepped out of line. And Sheila looked back. “Are you going or not?” The guard said to me. “If not, move aside and give others a chance to eat and drink.”
I saw Sheila look at me and stop. Then she took a few more steps. The putrid smell didn’t have the same effect on her. “Make up your mind,” the impatient unpleasant guard said to her and she walked along.
Sheila looked at me. Her glance flickering as she put one weary foot in front of the other. She stood wondering what to do. Then she walked with a slow pace with her head down. She raised her hand biting her nails. Close to the gate she turned looking at me. The guard raised the barrier and she walked through to the other side.
I closed my eyes. I remembered saying that I wouldn’t leave her and that I would be with her to protect her. I ran to the gate. The guard shot me an ominous wicked smile and raised the barrier.
I followed her with an urgent desire of hope. I followed her with and urgent awareness of despair.
The End
Thank you for reading my books. Please leave a review. For a list of my romance books you can contact me at my e-mail address: [email protected] my website is: http://www.rachelerice.com or my blog: http://www.rachel-e-rice.com where I announce titles that are on sale. My Well series are for individuals 13-18 but please do not go to these sites unless you are 18 or over.
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