The End of All Things

by Lissa Bryan

  “I’ve got to go.”

  “Go where?”

  Justin laughed. “I need to piss, Carly.”

  She flushed. “Oh. Okay. Let me get you the pan.”

  “Don’t tell me,” he said with a groan. “You haven’t had to take care of me like a baby, have you?”

  “I would have done far worse.” Carly crawled out of the tent where Sam was waiting at the doorway, eagerly sniffing inside. “Yeah, go ahead, he’s awake.” The wolf darted through the opening, and she heard the sound of an enthusiastic canine lapping at a face and Justin’s soft laugh.

  Carly handed the pan inside and wandered over to pet Shadowfax to give him his privacy. He passed the pan back out, and Carly gave him a bottle of water before she took the pan away to dump and rinse it. She returned to find Shadowfax had stuck her head inside the tent. She heard Justin’s chuckle. She found Justin lying with his head pillowed on Sam’s back, stroking the horse’s nose.

  “Seems everyone was worried about me,” Justin commented.

  “I was so worried you were going to die. I didn’t know if I was giving you the right antibiotic, or if I was taking care of you properly or—”

  “You did just fine. Now, tell me what happened.”

  “You don’t remember?”

  “I remember riding down the highway after we crossed the border, and that’s all.”

  Carly told the story. She had to pause in a couple of places to regain control of her emotions, but she forced her way through it.

  “You killed them?” Justin asked.

  Carly nodded.

  “I’m proud of you, Carly. You protected us.”

  “That wasn’t the hard part. Taking care of you when I didn’t know what I was doing was worse.”

  “It sounds like you had good instincts about it. Taking the arrow out, the antibiotics, the cool towels . . . Thank you, Carly. Thank you for taking care of me.”

  “You don’t need to thank me, Justin. You would have done the same.” And I love you.

  “Be that as it may, I’m still grateful. Come on, lie down and get some sleep. You look like you need it.”

  “After I make you some breakfast.” Carly scurried out of the tent before he could object.

  She made Justin some of the powdered eggs; something she thought would be easy to digest after days of having nothing but the bit of soup that Carly had dribbled into his mouth. She brought him the plate and sat down beside him. “Eat it slowly,” she said, still taking care of him.

  Justin nodded. “Where’s yours?”

  Carly hadn’t even thought of food for herself. “Sam will bring me something. He’s been reminding me to eat by bringing me rabbits and squirrels.”

  Justin shook his head with a soft laugh. “I take it that you’ve learned to clean game?”

  “Yeah. While you were sick, my mind was on you, not on what I was doing, so it didn’t really bother me.” Her voice trembled a bit, remembering those dark and terrible hours when she didn’t know if she was helping him or hurting him, when she knew that he could possibly die and there was nothing she could do about it. She never wanted to feel that horrifying helplessness again.

  “Oh, Carly.” His eyes were soft and sad. “I’m so sorry that I scared you so badly.”

  “I was just scared I wasn’t doing the right things to help you.”

  Justin put his plate aside. “Come here.”

  Carly went happily into his arms and laid her head on his chest. The strong, steady thump of his heart reassured her.

  “You never cease to amaze me,” he whispered into her hair. “Every time there’s a challenge, you surpass it with flying colors. You know, you’re more of a survivor than I am.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The way you adapt, figure things out, and refuse to be defeated by anything. I’m trained. I do these things from knowledge. You figure them out on your own, and you never back down in the face of adversity. And you have the kind of courage that seasoned warriors would envy.” The soft rumble of his voice beneath her ear was soothing, as was the kiss he brushed on the top of her head. She remembered him telling her right after they had left Juneau that he thought she was a survivor. Was this the sort of thing he had meant?

  “I’m not brave,” Carly said quietly. “I was scared to death.”

  “Courage isn’t the absence of fear; it’s forging ahead despite that fear.”

  “I just did what I had to do.”

  “That’s what’s so special.”

  Carly could see that he wasn’t going to understand, but she felt weird allowing him to believe she had virtues that she didn’t. “Eat your eggs before they get cold,” she said and left his embrace.

  “Share with me. You made me far too much.”

  “I’ll go get a fork.”

  He shrugged. “We’ll share that, too.” He speared a mouthful of eggs on his fork’s tines and held it out to her. Carly opened her mouth and he placed the bite inside.

  “I’m amazed at how good these are,” she said. “I’d never believe that powdered stuff would taste this good.”

  “One of the rare exceptions. Open up.”

  Carly did, and he put another forkful of eggs into her mouth before taking a bite himself. He alternated feeding himself and Carly until the plate was empty. Both of them were pleasantly full.

  “Wow, I really did make too much,” Carly said with a sigh. She lay back on the sleeping bag beside him. He reached out a searching hand until he found hers and clasped it, twining their fingers. They lay in companionable silence for a while.

  She peered over at him to see if he was asleep and saw his eyes were open. He was gazing at the top of the tent with a thoughtful expression. “Justin?”

  “Mmm?”

  “I need to tell you something.”

  “What?”

  Carly took a deep breath. “I love you.”

  Justin said nothing, though his eyes widened. A sharp dart of pain stabbed her heart at his silence, but she didn’t regret saying it. If this experience had taught her nothing else, it was that important things like that should never remain unsaid. You never knew when life could take away your chance to do it, when it would suddenly be too late. She forged ahead. “I love you. When you were laying there so sick, I kept thinking you might die without knowing it, without ever hearing it, and I needed to tell you.”

  The silence was heavy, oppressive. Carly wanted to run out of the tent and hide herself in the woods for a nice, long cry.

  Justin rolled over to face her. His hand tightened on hers until it was an almost bruising pressure. “Oh, God, Carly, do you really mean it?”

  “Yes, I mean it. I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it with all my heart. I’ve never felt this way.”

  He brushed the hair back from her forehead. “I love you, Carly.”

  She choked back a gasp. “Really? I—Are you—?”

  Justin chuckled. “Articulate as ever, sweetheart. Yes, I love you. Did you ever doubt it?”

  He’d never said the words, but looking back, he didn’t need to. He’d said it with every one of his little acts of kindness, his thoughtfulness, and his care for her. It was in the sweet gestures he made, like the picnic in the library, the wildflower he’d picked the week before and inserted in her hair behind her ear. Tears trickled from her eyes as she drew him down for a soft, sweet kiss.

  Chapter Seven

  Carly was pissed. She stomped around the campsite and yanked things from the back of the wagon, glaring at Justin whenever he dared approach. He gave her a tentative smile, but all that earned him was a snarl. She yanked out a plastic box of meds and slammed it down on top of another, her lips pursed so tightly they were nothing but a small white line.

  The day had started out well, but after breakfast Justin had said he felt much better and intended to bike back to the pileup where he’d been shot. Carly had argued he wasn’t healed enough for that, especially if he ran into trouble. Then she tried insi
sting she go with him, but he wouldn’t be budged on that either.

  Justin picked up a case of water bottles and moved it to the ground, hiding a wince when the weight of the thing irritated his wound, but Carly was far too observant to let it go unnoticed. She crossed her arms and tapped her foot.

  “Carly, honey, I’m fine. Just a little sore, okay?”

  “You don’t know that! You could be pulling your wound open and bleeding inside or something.”

  “This isn’t the first time I’ve been shot,” he said. “I know my limits. I won’t overdo it. I promise.”

  Her eyes widened in horror, and he didn’t think she’d heard the latter part of his statement. No, it was the thought of him being shot before that horrified her.

  “The scars,” she said, her voice faint.

  He chuckled. “Well, not all of them.” He tugged her into his arms, and she laid her head over his heart. He could feel the tension fade away as she snuggled against him. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

  “Please, please be careful.”

  “I will.” Justin kissed her, and she clung to him for a long moment before releasing him. She pushed a lock of hair back behind her ear and gave him a wobbly smile. “I intend to be mad at you again when you get back.”

  He laughed. “Thanks for the warning.”

  “Take Sam with you,” she urged.

  Justin shook his head. “I want him here, with you.”

  She sighed. “You know, Justin, one of the most important parts of a relationship is compromise.”

  “I’ll work on that,” he said and gave her lips another quick kiss. “As soon as I get back.”

  “Hurry.”

  “I will.”

  She brought him one of the assault rifles—proof of how much anxiety his proposed journey gave her; he didn’t think she’d touched one of those rifles since they’d left Juneau.

  He set off down the driveway, pulling the lightened wagon behind his bicycle. He was tired by the time he got to the road. His wound had made him weaker than he thought. He couldn’t tell Carly, though; she’d probably make him stay in bed for a week.

  He chuckled ruefully. Carly had a bossy streak he hadn’t expected, but he found it adorable, knowing she did it from love. That stubborn refusal to give up had probably saved his life.

  He’d been wrong. Carly was not dependent on him. She had shown she could rise to any challenge. His worst fear had nearly materialized: leaving Carly on her own to fend for herself, and she had proven she had the guts and strength of will it took to survive, even if she didn’t quite realize it yet.

  It was comforting to know she would be able to make it on her own if something happened to him. As he pulled his bike up to the two wrecked cars, he reflected how it almost had.

  The two bodies lay where they had fallen, and a pair of buzzards picking at the woman’s face gave him sullen looks before taking off to wait in a nearby tree. Justin found the body of the man at the side of the road just as Carly had said, one hole in his chest and another two in his head. He smiled slightly as he recalled the way he’d explained the need for a second shot to her.

  “You’ve seen horror movies where they shoot the bad guy and then turn around to gasp in relief, and he stands up behind them to chase after them one last time?” She had giggled, but he was glad to see she’d taken it to heart.

  The woman lay in front of the cars. Justin scooped up her crossbow from the road beside her and yanked off the quiver of arrows she wore. He tossed them into the wagon for trade goods before circling around the cars to their campsite.

  A pitifully small fire had been built but had burned out before it consumed the wood. It told him all he needed to know; they were ill-equipped to survive in this new world, so the couple had turned to preying on others. He wondered if the burned-out house had belonged to one of them. It would make sense. They could have set it on fire accidentally with a candle or cooking fire and moved out here to steal from those who traveled the road.

  There was a small selection of cans in a red Radio Flyer wagon and a few boxes of ammo, though no guns for it. He supposed it was possible someone had come by and already taken them, but it was more likely the crossbow had been their only weapon, and the ammo had been scavenged or stolen from another unwary traveler.

  He picked up Carly’s bike, put it in the wagon, and left the bodies to the buzzards. Creatures like that didn’t deserve a burial. He’d seen their kind before—too many times—in Rwanda, Somalia, and Darfur; places where the ugliest side of human nature had been unleashed when law and order had fallen apart.

  If he could have one wish, it would be to protect Carly from this, to ensure she never knew the staggering evil of which human beings were capable. Her sunny optimism and belief that people were fundamentally good at heart were things he loved about her . . . and things he feared would change in this brutal new world.

  He mounted his bike and started the ride back to the house, deep in thought.

  Justin returned with her bike lying in the back of the wagon and Jeanie’s crossbow lying beside it. Carly had to swallow back nausea when she saw it, but she understood the wisdom of taking it. It had proven itself to be a good weapon, after all. He brought with it a quiver of arrows, each with a four-blade, razor-sharp tip. Carly shuddered when she saw them. Thank goodness the arrow had gone all the way through. She couldn’t imagine having to dig that out of his body.

  “I’m proud of you, Carly,” Justin said. “You remembered what I told you.”

  Carly nodded. “That’s how I found the creek, too. I remembered what you said about following the land to its lowest point.”

  “Smartest woman I know,” he said, and she flushed a little at the pride in his voice.

  “Good teacher.”

  Justin pulled her into his arms and stroked her hair back from her face. “You saved my life, you know. In some cultures, that means I’m bound to you for as long as I live.”

  She tried to smile. “That sounds fair.”

  He lowered his face to hers and brushed a feather-soft kiss across Carly’s lips. “I love you, Carly. You own me, you know. Heart and soul.”

  She smiled at him through the tears glistening in her eyes. “And I belong to you, so it’s an even trade.”

  Carly helped Justin reload the wagon, gathering up the things she had strewn over their campsite in her temper, and blushed a bit when Justin teased her about it. “I just worry about you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  She wished he could promise she’d never have to find out, but it wasn’t a world where that was possible.

  They headed south. Justin’s chosen route followed the highway, but Carly convinced him to take the small side roads instead. They’d be much less likely to run into trouble that way. She liked North Dakota’s layout—very simple and straightforward—its roads and streets laid out in grids.

  Their travel was slow. Justin still didn’t have all of his strength back. Carly tried to get him to exchange bikes and let her pull the wagon for a while, but he flat out refused.

  By lunchtime, Carly could see he was exhausted, so she complained of leg cramps until he suggested they find a good place and settle in for the night. She feigned reluctance, but agreed, trying to hide her smirk.

  There was a little house, tucked back off the road in a small patch of trees. Justin went to investigate while Carly lingered at the end of the driveway. She was a bit irritated he had insisted she stay behind; she wasn’t sure he was fully up to strength to face any trouble on his own. She knew he did it to spare her, in case there were bodies in the house, but it was dangerous to approach the house alone. We’re a team, aren’t we?

  He came back around the side of the house and motioned her forward, and Carly rode her bike down the gravel driveway. They parked the bikes around back and entered the house from the back, as well. It was small, one story, and simple. In the yard behind it, a windmill turned lazily in the breeze. The house’s sternly plain
façade was covered with white painted clapboards and its windows were plain rectangles, devoid of any ornamentation. The interior was a surprise, lovingly decorated with lush fabrics and the kind of bold color schemes on the walls she’d seen in magazines but would never be brave enough to try in her own home.

  As she often did when they entered a home, she wondered about the woman who had chosen this décor. She had painted one wall of the living room a bright red, and the color was echoed in the throw pillows on the plump, padded furniture. The effect was warm and cheerful, and Carly wondered if one’s environment reflected their personality. Her own home had been strictly well-ordered, with plain white walls and color constrained to items affordably switched out when the mood took her. Simple, practical, neat.

  “They have a propane tank,” Justin said as he came back into the living room. “The stove is hooked up to it.”

  Carly smiled. “Cooking on a stove? That seems downright weird after all this time.”

  There was a small barn out back, not much larger than a tool shed, but there was still some straw in the mow above, and Carly spread a layer on the floor for Shadowfax while Justin unloaded the things they’d need for the evening from the wagon and wheeled it inside to conceal it from any passers-by.

  Shadowfax had discovered the vegetable garden behind the house and was in horse heaven by the time Carly had finished and headed back into the house. Though they always checked gardens for anything edible, after months of being untended, the vegetables were usually rotting or half-eaten by bugs and animals. Shadowfax, who was less particular than the humans feasted happily.

  Sam was a little nervous at being indoors and preceded Carly into every room, sniffing intently. In the bedroom, she stopped to change the sheets, using a folded set she found in the linen cupboard. Sleeping in someone else’s bed felt strange enough, but it also seemed unhygienic to trust the sheets were clean.

  She went back into the kitchen and down the stairs into the basement. She shined her flashlight around and hollered up to Justin, “You’re gonna want to see this!”