by Rhett DeVane
“Simon,” a soft voice wheezed. “You scared the life from me.”
Simon could barely make out the old nurse’s craggy features. “Nana B? What’re you doing out here in the dark? Talk about scaring somebody.”
Bernice held a finger to her lips and pulled him into the shadows, away from the moonlight. “I was coming to find you and Elizabeth.”
Simon heard the old woman struggle to breathe. “You okay?”
Something clattered in the dark. They froze, listening. In the moonlight, a rat scuttled past.
Bernice released the breath she held. “I’m fine. A little winded. Hurry, bring Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth felt hands on her shoulders. A familiar voice whispered her name. “Lizard. Lizard. Wake up, will ya?”
Elizabeth opened her eyes. Eerie shadows swam around her. She blinked and tried to focus on the shape hovering beside her bed. “Simon?”
“Get up and c’mon.”
Elizabeth rose on her elbows and frowned. “Unlike you, I like to sleep at night, remember?”
“Seriously, Lizard. Get up. Nana B wants to talk to us out in the hall. She’s all freaked out.”
Elizabeth flipped the covers aside and grabbed her bag. “If this is some kind of joke, I’ll clobber you.”
Simon took her by the hand and the two of them slipped past the rows of sleeping children. When they reached the hallway, Bernice motioned for them to follow her to the deserted dining hall. Without its usual clamor of voices, the room echoed every movement.
Bernice twisted the edge of her apron in her hands. “Soldiers are coming. You must leave this place.”
Elizabeth looked from Bernice to Simon and back. Was she still back in bed having one heck of a bizarre dream?
Bernice pushed a package toward Simon. “It’s not much, a few pieces of bread and whatever food I could gather.” She rummaged in her apron pocket and handed Elizabeth a folded paper. “I drew a map. Turn north as you step from this building—to your left—and follow the directions. You’ll have a chance of making it out of here.”
Simon snapped out of it before Elizabeth did. “Wait. You want me’n Lizard to take off in the dark? That’s nuts. What about you, what about the other kids?”
“We’ll go to the basement,” Bernice whispered. “We might be able to ride it out down there.”
Fear scraped across Elizabeth’s heart. “Wake them up. We’ll all run!”
The old woman sank onto a bench. “Oh, Elizabeth. You’re smart enough to understand. If their little bodies aren’t injured, their souls are too wounded to make it. And I’m too old.” Her gaze moved from Elizabeth to Simon and back. “You two are the only ones I might send away with any hope.”
Simon’s eyes glittered in the moonlight. “It’s dark as death outside.”
“The darkness is your friend, Simon. If you wait until dawn, the soldiers will see you for sure.”
Elizabeth exchanged worried glances with Simon. If this was a bad dream, it was only getting worse.
Bernice took a shaky breath. “Walk the sides of the streets, in the shadows. Follow the main street until you see a large building, the city hall. You’ll know it by the lion statues beside the stairs. It’s the first place the invading soldiers will storm, so be extremely watchful. If you see anyone—and I mean anyone—hide!”
Simon frowned.
“These people are very, very bad.” Bernice’s voice quivered.
Elizabeth felt hot tears gather in her eyes. Do not cry, she coached herself. It makes your nose run and does no good.
“When you know you’re not being watched, follow the street out of town. Stop only when you can’t take another step.” The old woman used her apron to dab sweat and tears from her face. “At the far edge of the city, the foothills lead to the Emerald Mountains. The map will show you the way to my family’s cabin. Few people know of it, so it should be deserted. Look for two tall trees marked with blue paint—the path. The cabin’s stocked with canned food. I hope it’s enough to last until I can send someone for you.”
Elizabeth shuddered. “Won’t there be wild animals?” Something worse than rats.
“No worse than the ones who’ll be coming here, dear.” She ran one finger across Elizabeth’s cheek.
“I still don’t get this, Nana B,” Simon said. “We could hang out and take our chances. Why—?”
The old woman gathered the children into her arms. “Because I already love you so very much.” She held them at arm’s length. “Please, go. Go for me.” Tears trickled down her wrinkled cheeks again. “I couldn’t get to my daughter and grandchild in time, but for you . . .”
All of that crying made Elizabeth’s chest squeeze.
Simon grabbed Elizabeth’s hand. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of her.”
Elizabeth started to blurt out some smart comment. I don’t need you to take care of me, Simon. I made it by myself for months before I met you. But at that moment, she was relieved to have him acting all Mr. Hero Guy.
Elizabeth stuffed the folded map into her bag and took one last look back over her shoulder as Simon led them from the dining hall. A moonbeam halo circled the old woman’s head and shoulders.
Chapter Three
Simon and Elizabeth crouched beside the front steps of the orphanage. Cool night mists swirled at their feet. The scent of rotting garbage spoiled the air. Simon still held her hand, and Elizabeth felt ripples of fear quiver through his body.
“I hate this.” He spat out the words as if they tasted sour.
“Maybe we shouldn’t—”
“You heard Nana B. We have to. Don’t know about you, Lizard, but I don’t want to croak today.”
Simon led the way. At one time—almost longer ago than Elizabeth could recall—New Haven City had been a wonderland of light, especially at the holidays. She dimly remembered standing in front of a toy store, holding her father’s large hand, watching a tiny train circle a magical miniature town glistening with fake snow and twinkling lights. What would it be like to shrink to the size of those little people and walk the narrow streets? Happy and safe.
Since the area wars, the street lamps didn’t glow. Vacant stores wore board-crossed windows. No one used the broken sidewalks except the soldiers. Even the rats roamed in packs.
“Get the lead out, Lizard.” Simon tugged her hand.
Elizabeth clutched the hobo bag to her chest and willed her feet to move.
In a few blocks, Simon stopped and motioned to a large brick building. Two lion statues guarded the double doors. They had seen no other signs of life for several blocks except for a dog so skinny his ribs showed through his coat, but this area was far from quiet. Groups of people moved in and out. Muffled orders passed between them. Elizabeth saw the outline of long guns through the dimness. She shivered when she noticed Simon’s pinched expression. Act brave and you’ll feel brave, Elizabeth.
They crouched low and inched closer. The entrance of the city hall shone with light, but the buildings they passed shielded the sidewalk from the moon’s glow.
A platoon of soldiers rounded the corner in front of them. Simon jerked Elizabeth’s hand. They dove into a black alley, landing amidst the garbage. One overfilled can tipped and crashed to the ground. Something skittered away. Elizabeth forced herself not to think about the rats.
Their clatter brought the soldiers to a standstill. A deep voice barked an order. Other than the day they took her parents, Elizabeth couldn’t recall a time when she had felt as frightened. From where she and Simon huddled, she watched one of the men enter the alley. He walked over and peered behind the cans. Simon gasped.
Elizabeth looked into the soldier’s dark eyes for what seemed like forever, but was only a couple of seconds. His smooth young face reflected the single weak beam of moonlight brave enough to pierce the alleyway. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she saw him smile. She forced her shaky lips to smile back.
“What is it, Private?” A stern voice called out.
> Elizabeth imagined herself and Simon being jerked up, thrown into the streets. Guns pointed at them, then firing. No!
“Nothing, Sir.” The young man held one finger to his lips.
Elizabeth willed herself to take even breaths. Behind her, Simon remained frozen.
“Just an ugly old alley cat.” His eyes spoke of kindness, even if his machine gun didn’t. He stood and rejoined the regiment. The leader bellowed. The group filed away.
Simon let out the breath he had been holding. “Geez. That was close.”
“No kidding.”
This time, Elizabeth took the lead. For a while, the long city blocks continued, nothing but concrete and blank storefronts for miles. As the first fingers of dawn licked the skies, the sidewalks led past rows of houses and budding trees. Though weeds and tall grass crowded the lawns, the place seemed peaceful. A faint scent of spring flowers tickled her nose. She paused in front of one battered house, its shutters hanging like rotten teeth.
“Let’s take a break here,” Elizabeth said.
“No way.” Simon walked past.
Elizabeth stood with her hands propped on her hips, then blew out a breath and followed. Since he was eleven and two whole months and she was barely ten, Simon insisted on being the boss. Were they even heading in the correct direction? Questions met with his glare. Elizabeth wasn’t one for violence, but she was close to slugging him in the arm. Hard.
Elizabeth walked a few more feet, then stopped. “This spot looks okay. My feet hurt.”
“So do mine. I have stitches in my leg, and they’re burning like crazy.” Simon looked around. “It’s too open, Lizard. We have to reach the woods.”
“Who died and left you in charge of the world?”
A popping noise sounded behind them. Without thinking, they both dropped to a crouch.
Simon pointed. “Hear that? Guns! Keep moving!”
Hours passed. Weedy fields stretched on either side, and the sidewalks and rows of houses had disappeared. Elizabeth and Simon trudged along the edge of a narrow paved highway.
Ahead, the earth dipped and rolled like a frozen blue-green sea: The Emerald Mountains. Elizabeth’s parents had told stories about the silent green hills, but until now she believed the place to be one of those magical tales people created to amuse kids.
Elizabeth climbed onto the top of a tower of boulders and gaped at the scenery. “It’s so pretty.” She took a deep lungful of air sweet with the scent of blooms.
“It’ll be a lot prettier when I see that cabin.” Simon climbed up beside her and squinted into the distance. “Don’t know about you, Lizard, but I could eat a bear.”
Her spirit sank. Bears? Will there be bears? Great. We escape soldiers and rats, now I have to worry about bears.
Simon waved one hand. “Let me see that map again.”
Elizabeth pulled the folded paper from her bag, along with a container of water. Thank goodness she always followed one of her parents’ main rules: never go anywhere without carrying water. She took a sip and offered the bottle to Simon. He tipped his head back and drank.
“Hey, not so much!” Elizabeth pried the bottle from his hands, screwed on the cap, and shoved it into the bag. “It’s all we’ve got.”
He wiped the moisture from his lips. “Don’t get your scales in a bunch, Lizard.” Simon knelt down and spread out the map on the flat rock.
“I don’t see any water fountains around here, do you? Seriously, we have to conserve.” Elizabeth crouched beside him. “And besides, lizards don’t even have scales.”
At least she was pretty sure they didn’t. Elizabeth didn’t like to argue, but Simon brought it out, the way he took over and acted like he was the ultimate expert.
“Whatever.” He shrugged, then traced his finger across the drawing and pointed to the outline of a barn. “I think we’re here.”
“They all look alike. How can you tell?”
“This thing.” Simon pointed to a shape that looked like a bullet aimed at the heavens. “It’s a silo.”
“A what?”
“A silo. Where they store corn and grain and stuff. My granddaddy had one at his farm.”
“Oh.” The only corn and grain she knew about came in boxes and cans. Another thing to worry about. Food. Her crackers and the few hard biscuits Nana B had packed wouldn’t last long. Could they eat grass? Cows did, didn’t they?
Simon looked from the map to the woods in the distance. “The cabin has to be close.”
Elizabeth wanted to believe him. Her feet throbbed. Her clothes stunk of garbage and sweat. She was still thirsty, and her stomach felt like it hadn’t had real food in weeks. She pulled the cloth bundle from the hobo bag and broke a biscuit in two. “Let’s eat a little. I’m feeling kind of weak.”
The rest period didn’t last long. Simon brushed the crumbs from his hands and climbed down to the road. “Let’s roll.”
Elizabeth took her time descending the boulders. “You sound like one of those soldiers.”
Simon glared and walked away with a slight limp.
“Hey, what’s wrong? What’d I do?” She jogged a few steps to catch up. He stared straight ahead, his lips thin and his jaw clenched.
“You going to let me in on why you’re so ticked off?” she asked.
Simon stopped and faced her. “Don’t ever call me a soldier.”
“Sure.” Elizabeth drew a symbol with one finger over her chest. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”
Simon’s lips twitched. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Elizabeth held up her palms. “Beats me. My dad used to say it all the time.”
He walked a few steps and Elizabeth caught up. For a few minutes, they matched strides. Neither spoke.
Simon spotted the marked trees before Elizabeth. “The blue paint!” He broke into a trot and she struggled to keep up.
Two tall pines stood beside an overgrown path. A sun-faded slash of cobalt paint circled both trunks. As Elizabeth and Simon stepped into the woods, thick branches blocked the afternoon sun. The forest looked sinister, as if some giant monster might stand guard, ready to eat anyone crazy enough to enter. Simon grabbed a fallen branch to hold back the thorny vines snaking across the path.
After a series of switchbacks, Elizabeth noticed the glow of filtered light. She dashed ahead and stopped at the edge of a small clearing. A log cabin perched on the rise of a hill. “Simon! We made it!”
He stepped beside her, his hands propped on his hips like a brave pirate who’d fought off the whole world’s navy. “I knew we would.”
Elizabeth didn’t have the energy to tell him he was full of gutter mud. Simon was just as lost and afraid, only he would never admit it.
Chapter Four
Simon turned the rusty knob, then shoulder-bumped the heavy wooden door open a couple of inches. “Help me. It’s stuck.” He moved over enough for her to join him. “On my count, give it all you’ve got.”
Elizabeth nodded.
“One . . . two . . . three!”
The door resisted their first two tries. When it finally swung open on the third shove, both of them landed in a pile on the plank floor.
“Ouch!” Elizabeth pushed Simon off, stood, and brushed the dirt from her clothing. Light filtered inside from two narrow dingy windows. “It’s kind of creepy.”
Simon bounced to his feet. “It’ll do.”
Elizabeth’s mother always had a thing about being tidy. Two of her mom’s favorite sayings popped into her mind. Have a place for everything, with everything in its place. Cleanliness is next to Godliness. For sure, the cabin was far from Godliness. Dirt and dust covered every surface. The air smelled stale and flat.
“This place is a complete mess.” She stepped back outside and removed her torn sweater, then folded it into a neat square atop the hobo bag. Even the patch of grass was better than the cabin.
Inside, Simon rummaged through a cabinet. “We got plates and stuff.” He bent down to the lower shel
ves. “And some cans of . . .” He picked up a container and wiped the faded label. “Corn, I think.”
“Good thing I have a can opener.”
“Go get it!”
“Not until we clean up. No way am I eating anything in here.”
Simon’s lips twitched. Elizabeth waited for him to say something snarky, but he didn’t. She walked over to the corner of the room to a small metal sink. The overhead cabinets were bare, but the one below held a stack of rags and a bottle of dishwashing soap.
“All I need is water.” She turned the faucets. Nothing.
“There’s bound to be a spring close by. The people who stayed here had to have water.” Simon turned toward the door. “I’ll go look around.”
“Oh no. You’re not leaving me here alone.”
“If we don’t split up and get some stuff done . . .” He hesitated. “You said we don’t have enough water to last long. Seems that’s the first thing we have to find. If I get the water to drink and to clean up, then I can get some food before I start eating rocks and sticks.”
Elizabeth followed him from the cabin. “Wait.” She rummaged in the hobo bag and handed him a whistle on a chain.
“What am I supposed to do with this?”
“If you get into trouble, blow it. I’ll follow the sound.”
“Not bad, for a city girl.” Simon slipped the chain around his neck and walked away.
When Elizabeth could no longer hear the snick of his footsteps, she listened to the sounds of the forest. Birdcalls filled the air: unfamiliar songs from the ones in the city. The sun dipped lower above the horizon. Soon, darkness would seep through the woods on silent feet. She shuddered and ducked inside.
Beside the hearth, she found a whiskbroom. Not much, but it would have to do. Without water, she couldn’t wipe down the table and chairs, but she could at least sweep some of the layered dirt from the floor. The room was so small, she finished the first pass in a few minutes.
Three whistle blasts snapped her to attention. She dropped the broom and dashed outside. “Simon! Simon!”
