The End of All Things

by Lissa Bryan

  Justin was delighted by the giant cans of food they found in the cafeteria’s pantry and the haul from the building’s snack machines. She hadn’t realized how stressed he was over their dwindling supplies until she saw his relief after finding the food.

  Carly didn’t sleep well that night. Her mind was occupied by various theories and scenarios about the vaccine. She remained as still as she could, but Justin eventually sighed and pulled her snug against his body.

  “You need to sleep, honey,” he whispered into her ear.

  “I know. I just can’t stop thinking.”

  “Carly, you’re probably never going to know what happened. None of us will.” Justin kept his voice pitched low so as not to disturb Mindy and Stan. His dark eyes glittered with intensity in the low light. “The people responsible for this plague are likely dead themselves, and we’ll never know who or why.”

  Emotion tightened Carly’s throat. She knew that was true, but a small part of her had held out hope, had believed there were answers out there somewhere. “If this were a movie, a hidden box of documents would come crashing through the ceiling right about now.”

  “Sorry, honey, but real life rarely gives us all the answers we seek.” Justin brushed a caramel curl behind Carly’s ear and smiled at her, his eyes tender. “Maybe someday, college students will write papers on the Infection the way they did about the Black Death, and maybe archaeologists will uncover important clues about how it spread, which can narrow down its origin. Maybe they’ll even uncover a letter claiming responsibility sent to a newsroom somewhere. But that’s for future generations to find. Right now, we need to find a home in a place where we can settle down and build a good life for our daughter.”

  She bit her lip. “I’m sorry I dragged you all this way for nothing.”

  “It wasn’t for nothing. You needed answers, and we got a few.”

  She leaned forward and kissed him. “I love you, Justin.”

  He cupped her cheek. “And I love you, Carly, more than I can say.”

  Their days soon fell into a comfortable pattern as they headed south. Stan and Mindy turned out to be excellent traveling companions. Once Justin had shown him a few of the essentials, such as how to build a fire and purify drinking water, Stan turned out to be very helpful. He was also excellent with the horses. Storm liked him almost as much as she liked Justin and would follow him through the woods while he picked up firewood. She even followed him into houses a few times when he went in to scavenge for supplies. After Storm climbed the stairs to the second floor of one of the houses—and was then too afraid to walk back down them—she had to be dragged and pushed by Stan and Justin, while she squealed in terror. After that, she decided human dwellings weren’t all that interesting after all. She stayed outside with her mother, where there might be flower beds to pillage. They were both indignant the humans had begun to take all of the yummy treats from the vegetable gardens for themselves.

  Finding food was becoming a real problem the further south they got. The houses on the back roads were often empty before their group reached them. Carly remembered what Justin had told her about dog food the day they met, and she began to feel a vague stirring of unease.

  Sam brought them rabbits every day, sometimes more than one, depending on what crossed their path. They weren’t at the point of actual hunger, but seeing the supplies dwindle in the back of the wagon made all of them nervous, especially as they began to encounter people who wanted to trade valuables like ammunition for food.

  One afternoon, they came across a pair of bodies lying in the road, dead for less than a day, beside an overturned wagon. Every bit of the food was gone, but other valuables, such as seeds, medicine, batteries, and even a few bottles of lamp oil, lay abandoned in the dust by the road. Carly cried for them; she couldn’t help it. It seemed so wrong that they had survived the Infection and the harsh winter just to be gunned down by thieves. They buried them beside the road, a pair of stick crosses their only memorial.

  “No one will ever know their names,” Carly said.

  After that, Justin and Stan became much more vigilant. Justin scouted ahead, though Carly hated having him gone. But he alone could move silently through the underbrush and ambush raiders before they could ambush them. And maybe it was due to his efforts they didn’t run into trouble. Carly never asked, and he never volunteered.

  It was Dagny who drew the most attention from the people they encountered along the way, and that troubled Carly on some visceral level she couldn’t articulate, even to herself. Babies shouldn’t be something so rare people wept when they saw one. One man offered them a cartload of food and weapons in exchange for Dagny. His wife’s heart had been broken by the death of their own baby during the Infection, and he would have given anything, done anything, to have a baby to give to her. He was convinced that would restore her to her old self. He sobbed as they drove away, and Carly clutched Dagny close to her and kept one hand on the gun beneath the seat. She began to try to hide the baby whenever they saw people, and Sam picked up on her anxiety. He would hop up in the wagon and lay down next to wherever Carly had concealed Dagny as if to assure Carly he would defend the baby with his very life if necessary.

  Was it possible the Infection had made people sterile? What else could be the explanation for the lack of other babies or pregnant women on their journey? Why was Carly an exception? Or was it Justin who was the exception?

  One evening, she noticed Justin studying the map and making small notations. He had insisted on a very precise route, and she noticed he had drawn circles in red, with wavy arrows. “What are those?”

  “Nuclear plants.” Justin accepted the water bottle she’d brought him and gave her a smile of thanks.

  Carly sat down heavily. She’d never thought about it, but all the nuclear facilities had to have gone into meltdown when there was no one left to run them.

  “I’ve kept us from coming within a one hundred mile radius,” Justin said. “It’s enough distance, so we should be safe, but I’m monitoring the wind patterns. That’s these wavy lines.”

  Carly saw how their route dodged between circles, with a narrower path as the route neared Florida. They would be squeezing between three circles on the way to the area he’d marked with an X.

  “Justin, are you sure it’s safe?”

  “Wind comes in off the coast. It should drive any fallout away from us.”

  “I really don’t like this. The margin seems so small.” She stared at the number of circles overlapping all over the east coast.

  Justin put an arm around her shoulders and drew her close. “As I told you before, we don’t have to make it all the way to Florida if we find a nice place to settle before we get there.”

  She’d be looking harder now that she knew about the nuclear plants. What would happen to all of those people along the coast, where the red rings overlapped so much the state lines weren’t even visible? Would they even realize what was killing them? Could the radiation have something to do with the sudden fertility problems? She and Justin had been up north when Carly became pregnant.

  She pressed a kiss to her baby’s head and wondered, not for the first time, what sort of future lay in store for her.

  Chapter Ten

  The next evening, they set up camp in the woods beside the road, just deep enough in the tree line to not be visible to any travelers. Carly began giving Mindy a lesson on assembling the tent, though Shadowfax kept interrupting. The horse wanted attention and wouldn’t take “Shoo!” for an answer. She bumped Carly with her nose until Carly laughed and surrendered, standing up to scratch behind Shadowfax’s ears.

  “Honey, I’m heading out to look around,” Justin said. He took one of the crossbows from the wagon and a quiver of arrows.

  Carly smiled over her shoulder at him. “Be careful!”

  Justin smiled back at her. “Always am.”

  “Mind if I tag along?” Stan asked.

  Justin was somewhat surprised by his of
fer, but pleased. Maybe Stan would turn out to be an asset, after all. He seemed to take security seriously, at least. He was always vigilant while they were on the road, and Justin had to admit Carly had been right. He felt better about leaving Carly and Dagny to scout ahead, knowing that Stan and Mindy were watching over them.

  He was impressed by Mindy as well. Stan had told him that Mindy was a crack shot, but that had been an understatement. The woman was nearly at sniper level in her accuracy. She told Justin that one of her father’s favorite weekend pastimes had been trap shooting, so she’d had years of practice.

  As they headed into the woods, Stan shook his head and glanced over at Carly, who was still petting Shadowfax. “Carly sure has a way with animals. Did she always have the horse?”

  “No, we found her shortly after we set out on our journey.” Justin smiled to himself, remembering his dismay when Carly had announced cheerfully that she’d named—and thus claimed—the horse. His smile widened to a grin as he realized he’d been doomed already by that point. There was no way he could have told her she couldn’t keep Shadowfax. He’d already been trying to protect her tender heart.

  There was an “Oomph!” and a thud from behind him. Justin turned around to see Stan sprawled in the leaves littering the forest floor. His foot was wedged beneath a root. Justin gave up entirely on the idea of stealth since anyone within a quarter-mile radius would be able to hear Stan, who was about as quiet as a three-legged elephant. The man had many good qualities, but grace was apparently not one of them.

  “Sorry!” Stan muttered. Justin extended a hand to help Stan to his feet. Red-faced, he brushed the bits of leaves and dirt off his clothes. “So, how did you and Carly meet?”

  Justin explained how he had spotted Carly in Juneau. As he told the story, he led them deeper into the woods, searching for any signs of people passing through recently, such as disturbed leaves, footprints, or litter. So far, he hadn’t seen anything and he relaxed a little.

  Stan let out a soft whistle. “You knew her father? That’s one hell of a coincidence.”

  “Carly doesn’t think it was a coincidence,” Justin said. “She thinks all of this was meant to happen, that there’s something we’re supposed to do.”

  “What do you think?”

  Justin hesitated. “I’m not sure, honestly. Her hunches have a way of turning out to be correct.”

  “Like with the Cederna vaccine?”

  “Yeah.” Justin hoped Carly’s hunch about Stan and Mindy would turn out to be correct as well.

  Stan was no fool; he saw the same problems Justin did with staying up north, where food was becoming scarce, and he was correct that a larger group would be a less attractive target for thieves. Still, if the decision had been Justin’s alone, he would have refused them.

  He repeated to himself that it was for Carly and his baby. She and Dagny would be safer, especially if he didn’t have to leave them alone while he scouted for danger and searched for food. He told himself this was what Carly wanted, and it was probably an excellent way of easing himself back into human society, like dipping one foot into a pool before plunging in. He couldn’t deprive Carly of what she wanted simply because he was socially maladapted.

  And, though he chastised himself for it, he was jealous. A small, selfish part of him wanted to keep Carly and Dagny all to himself. He knew it was childish and ridiculous, but every time Carly laughed at something Mindy said, or chattered with Stan, his jaw clenched, and he could feel a muscle twitch in his cheek. And as angry as he was at himself for being so irrational, he couldn’t stop the way he felt. He could, however, control how he would react to it, and he was determined none of them would ever know.

  He recognized there was some level of emotional immaturity involved. It was, after all, the first time Justin had ever been in love, so he’d never learned to cope with feelings like those. Analyzing it didn’t help him to overcome it, though. Maybe in time he’d be able to let go, just as he’d be able to let go of the equally irrational fear Carly would leave him once she had other options.

  To distract himself from troubling thoughts, Justin asked, “What about you and Mindy? How did you meet?”

  “High school sweethearts,” Stan said. Justin pushed a branch out of the way for him and he ducked under it. “Honestly, I don’t remember a time before I knew Mindy. We were in the same kindergarten class. The only time of our lives we were ever separated is when we went off to college. Everyone assumed we’d break up because long-distance relationships are so difficult, and, well, we’d both find temptations in our path. But we stuck to it, even though we were only able to see each other on the weekends for a while. We got married right after we graduated.”

  Justin wondered what that sort of stability must be like. Except for his last few years of school when his foster homes had all been in the same school district, he had never stayed in the same area long enough to develop many long-term friendships or relationships. He had told himself he didn’t need them, he was a loner—an island—without the sort of social dependency that others seemed to have. Finally he understood it had been a shield he drew around himself. By insisting he didn’t need anyone, he protected himself from the pain of loss.

  “You’re fortunate,” Justin told Stan.

  Stan grinned. “Yeah, I am. Mindy’s great. She’s wicked smart and has a great sense of humor. You guys haven’t really seen much of that yet because . . . well, Mindy doesn’t really cope well with change. Her mom died when she was very young. Since then, she sort of shuts down and closes herself off when she’s outside of her comfort zone. This whole thing with the Crisis and now having to leave our home, it’s been real hard on her. I mean, yeah, it’s been hard on everyone, but Mindy is falling back into that avoidance thing she does.”

  Justin understood. Maybe better than Stan realized. “Is there anything we can do to help?”

  Stan stumbled and had to catch a nearby tree to keep from falling down again. Justin’s lips twitched.

  Stan looked distinctly uncomfortable for a moment, and Justin wondered if he was regretting being so open. His suspicion was confirmed when Stan hastily amended his previous statement.

  “Oh no, you don’t need to do anything. She’ll be fine. Really. It’s just . . . uh . . . a matter of adjusting, you know? Carly has been great with her. She keeps Mindy talking, keeps her engaged in the situation. Everything will be okay, really.”

  Justin nodded. Stan cast a quick glance at him.

  “Listen, Justin, I want to say thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For bringing us along. I know you didn’t really want to.”

  Justin didn’t reply. He kept his eyes on the trees ahead.

  “Mindy and I might not have made it on our own,” Stan said, and his voice was so low Justin had to strain to hear it. “I knew you and Carly were our best chance. Maybe Carly is right about things happening for a reason.”

  Stan stepped on a branch that snapped as loud as a gunshot through the quiet woods. He grimaced in apology. Justin shrugged to show it wasn’t a problem, and they walked on in silence for a few moments before Stan broke it with a statement Justin didn’t expect.

  “I envy you, you know.”

  “Envy me?” Justin was startled enough to come to a halt. He stared at Stan and gave a small shake of his head.

  Stan stopped, too. His face went pink, but he met Justin’s eyes squarely. “You’re fortunate. You know you can protect your wife and daughter. You know you’ll be able to provide for them. I don’t have that comfort. You have skills. All I have is desperation.”

  Justin started walking again. He thought about what it must be like for Stan, and it was disquieting. He remembered watching Carly during Dagny’s birth, knowing there was nothing he could do if things went badly. Stan had to live with something like that all the time. It was difficult to force out a response. “You’ll learn. You’ve got guts and a good head on your shoulders. That’s all you need.”

>   Stan tripped again and tumbled into a bush. Justin couldn’t hold back the grin. “Though it might not be a bad idea to learn to walk more quietly.”

  Two days later, their small group stopped the wagon in the middle of the road and stared at the fifteen-foot-high fence that blocked the end of the bridge. They each took turns looking through Justin’s binoculars.

  “What in the world?” Mindy muttered and handed the binoculars to Stan so he could take another look.

  “Stacked shipping containers with a garage door between them. It’s not temporary, whatever it is.”

  “Can we go around?” Stan asked.

  Justin shook his head as he consulted the map again. “There’s swamp on either side; protected wetlands with no roads. We’ll have to backtrack.”

  They all groaned. Half a day’s travel, wasted. It was brutally hot, and all of them were a little short-tempered. Justin used the hem of his sleeveless T-shirt to wipe the sweat from his forehead as he studied the wall.

  “What the hell is it?” Stan scratched his head.

  “It’s an island. Look.” Justin laid the map flat on top of the wagon bed. “Town named Colby, and you can see there’s plenty of land around the edges of the town for farming. They’ve got themselves a nice set up, and it seems like they’re looking to protect it. There’s only one road bisecting it, and if they’ve got a wall on the other side, blocking the bridge, they’re got a damn near impenetrable fortress. At least until the raiders start banding together into tribes.”

  Carly put the binoculars back in their case and stashed them under the wagon seat. “Well, maybe they’ll let us through.”

  “For a price, I’m sure,” Justin said dryly.

  They approached the gate at a slow, cautious pace, keeping their hands out so as not to alarm anyone who might be watching them. A face appeared above the gate.

  “That’s close enough!” he shouted, and they froze in their tracks. “What do you want?”

  “Just passing through,” Justin called back.