by Ryan Casey
She turned back around. Walked up the hill towards Kesha. She felt even less certain about the walking away than she did the walking towards. Because she could feel the block inside her. The roadblock building up, telling her she was making the wrong call.
Maybe she could stay. Maybe she could wait until dark. Bargain with one of them. Take one of them down if she had to.
Maybe she could…
When she reached the spot where she’d put Kesha down to rest, she noticed something.
Kesha was gone.
Chloë’s stomach sank. This wasn’t new. It’d happened before. It should teach her a lesson, really. Teach her a lesson to stop leaving Kesha behind. She’d crawled off again. That’s all this was. She’d crawled off, and now Chloë had to track her down. Chloë had to find her. Before she…
She didn’t have to look very far to find Kesha.
Up ahead, Chloë saw a woman.
She was standing there. Staring at Chloë. She had long hair. A scar on her left cheek; scarred like the rest of her group. Her eyes were narrowed and brown.
Kesha was in her arms.
The hair on Chloë’s arm tingled.
She stepped towards the woman. Tightened her fist.
“Don’t move another inch,” a voice said.
A voice to Chloë’s left.
She looked into the trees.
And then she realised it wasn’t just a voice to her left. There were other people, too. Other people, all around her. All holding bows and arrows.
Pointing them at Chloë.
“You’ve got three seconds to tell us what the hell your business is here,” a voice behind Chloë said, breathing down the back of her neck.”
“Please. Just give her back. Just—”
“Time’s up.”
Chloë felt a hand grab the back of her neck.
She tried to struggle, tried to fight free, but then her vision blackened and there was nothing she could do.
A few metres away, Kesha started to cry.
TWENTY-NINE
Chloe screamed out at the top of her voice.
She couldn’t see anything but blackness. She knew she was inside somewhere, probably in one of those tents because she could feel the material at the bottom of her bare feet. Her throat was sore. There was a smell of damp in here. She could taste rustiness at the back of her throat, and she wondered whether she’d been knocked out before being dragged in here.
All she could remember was something being pulled over her head.
Then being dragged away somewhere.
Then, screaming.
She felt something. Felt a sharp hand hit the side of her face.
“You’re gonna have to be quiet, kid. No need to be making a racket like that.”
“Give her back to me!” Chloe shouted.
“Kid, we aren’t—”
“Give her the fuck back to me! Give her back give her back give her back!”
Chloe knew how ridiculous she sounded. How feral she sounded. But she wanted Kesha. She needed Kesha. This woman had taken Kesha away from her, and she couldn’t have that; she couldn’t let that happen.
“If you’d just calm the hell down for a second, maybe we’d be able to talk.”
Chloe kept on kicking out, kept on writhing. She realised she was being held back by her hand. Two women gripping on to her tightly. She felt trapped. Completely trapped, completely vulnerable. She didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what to do.
All she knew was she needed to get Kesha to safety. And Kesha wasn’t safe here.
That’s all that mattered.
Suddenly, light appeared in front of Chloe. She squinted. Squinted as the darkness lifted.
It took her a few seconds to realise what was in front of her.
There was a woman. Just one woman. Her hair was long, shiny like she’d stepped right out of an advert. It didn’t look possible. Not living in a world like this.
She moved closer to Chloe. Leaned right in her face. Chloe smelled something on her breath. Something like... mint?
“You came wandering up to our camp. Not the other way round. Don’t you forget that.”
“Give her back.”
“We could do that. We could give the baby back. But I see you wandering around with that kid looking completely malnourished and I start to have questions.”
Chloe’s head pounded. She felt sick. “She’s—she’s not yours.”
“And she’s not yours either. Now, why don’t you just—”
Chloe spat in the woman’s face. Kicked and pulled against the two other women holding her back. She kicked out. Tried to scratch them. Tried to bite them.
“You give her the fuck back. You give her the fuck back or I’ll—or I’ll—”
She felt a sharp smack across her face. It knocked the words out of her mouth. Made her feel dizzy.
“You’re really going to want to tune up on your manners if we’re going to get anywhere here. Now let’s make a start. Where did you come from?”
Chloe didn’t answer. Not at first. The buzzing around her head and the ringing in her ears carried on. And in that moment of silence, Chloe saw something. She realised something, front and centre, right in her face.
She thought about what she was losing herself about. Thought about why she was going so crazy.
She wasn’t going crazy for herself. She wasn’t going crazy because she was worried about her own life.
She was going crazy because she was worried about Kesha.
“Girl? Talk to me. You’d be doing yourself a favour. Please.”
Chloe felt a knot in her stomach. The way she’d kicked off about Kesha. The way she’d screamed. There was a bond. A bond forming between her and Kesha. A bond that could be dangerous.
Because every time she made a bond, there was trouble.
Every bond made meant a bond lost, eventually.
“If you don’t speak to me in the next ten seconds, that bag’s going over your head and you’re not getting any food or drink for the night.”
Chloe counted the seconds down. She felt the reluctance building. The reluctance to let anyone else in. The reluctance to trust.
She had a bond with Kesha. A bond that was dangerous. A bond that would just lead to more upset.
But a bond she couldn’t deny.
“She... she’s my daughter,” Chloe said.
She wasn’t sure why she said it. Wasn’t sure why she said the words. But she was desperate. Desperate for these women to just give Kesha back to her.
Because she needed Kesha.
Not just because she needed to look after her, to take her to safety, but because she wanted Kesha by her side.
The woman frowned. Nodded. “You’re her mummy, right?”
“I just—I just want her back. Please. I just want her safe.”
The woman kept on frowning. Nodding.
And then she stood up. Turned around. “I don’t for a second believe you’re her mum. Come on. Follow me.”
Chloe felt the arms push her forward. Push her towards the tent opening, where light peeked in. She wasn’t sure she wanted to move. She dragged her feet on the floor. Because she wasn’t sure she wanted to leave this tent. She wasn’t sure she wanted to see what was outside.
She just knew that she wanted Kesha.
And that she had no choice.
She was going outside this tent, whether she liked it or not.
“I understand your reluctance,” the woman said, as she pushed aside the tent opening. “It’s wise, really. Wise in a world like this.”
She stopped. Held a hand out.
“But seriously. You need to sharpen up on your manners.”
Chloe looked ahead. She looked beyond the woman. She wasn’t sure what she was looking at initially. Wasn’t sure what the woman wanted her to see.
But then it clicked.
It didn’t look right. It was impossible to believe. But it clicked.
“My name’s Amy,�
� the woman said. “And it’d be lovely to know your name.”
“Chloe,” Chloe said. She didn’t even think before she spoke. Didn’t even think about a word she said.
All she could focus on was the scene in front of her.
Kesha was in a woman’s arms.
The woman was holding a bottle of milk to her mouth.
Kesha was smiling.
“Welcome to camp, Chloe,” Amy said. “You’re amongst friends here.”
Chloe always took those words with a pinch of salt.
But for the first time—after seeing Kesha looking so happy, so cared for—she actually believed it.
THIRTY
Three days passed, and Chloe started to feel something bordering on normality inside the camp.
The sun was still high and bright, but there were growing signs of the oncoming shift towards autumn. Leaves fell from the trees. There was a crispness in the morning air. The birdsong got gradually, gradually later.
And Kesha started crying earlier every morning. Which Chloe supposed was something normal about a baby kid.
Chloe looked around at the walls of the camp. Her stomach was absolutely stuffed. She’d had squirrel for the third time in three days. She didn’t used to like the idea of eating squirrel, but since the end of days, it’d become her favourite meat.
She burped. Tasted the smoky flesh against her lips. The smell of burning grew more intense. The sound of chatter, of laughter, surrounded her from the twenty-six women here—which Chloe had counted.
Not many people had spoken to Chloe yet. A few people had smiled at her. A few people said hello. But there was a distance still between them. And Chloe didn’t mind that. She didn’t mind the distance they were showing. It made her feel better. She worried more about the people who tried to be her friends too much. She worried about those.
But these women seemed strong. They seemed wary.
They seemed like her.
Chloe looked across the camp over at one of the tents. She saw Kesha in there. She was being bathed. And even though Chloe still knotted in the stomach whenever she saw somebody else with Kesha, she couldn’t help but feel happy for her either. Because these women seemed to care. They seemed to genuinely care about her, even though they didn’t even know why Chloe was here.
Chloe looked further to the right. She saw a girl a little older than her staring over at her. She was smiling. She was a pretty girl. Long dark hair and chestnut brown eyes. And when she smiled, Chloe felt warmth inside. She felt uneasy at first. Felt like she should keep her distance.
But in the end, she found herself smiling back.
“Enjoying the view?”
The voice behind made Chloe jump. She stood. Looked up.
Amy stared down at her. She had a bow and arrow over her shoulder. She was smiling.
“Mind if I sit?” Amy asked.
Chloe shrugged.
Amy perched down beside her. Chloe edged away a little.
“That’s Carly. She’s a good kid. A tough kid. She’s been through a lot. But looking at your arm and your face, I’d wager a bet you’ve been through a lot more.”
Chloe looked away. She still didn’t like it when people mentioned the scars on her face or her missing arm. It made her feel different. Abnormal.
“It’s okay. We’ve all got scars. Yours are just a bit more prominent than most.”
She swigged back some water. Then she handed the metal flask to Chloe.
Chloe shook her head.
“Come on. You’re thirsty. Need to learn to start accepting things when they’re right in front of you. Not many places you’ll get handed a flask of frigging water, tell you that.”
Chloe sighed. She held her ground for a few seconds.
And then she took the water from Amy and swigged some of it back.
“I’m not gonna lie,” Amy said. “I am interested in you. About what you’ve been through. Where you came from. And who that kid is.”
Chloe didn’t say a word. She just looked at Amy’s people. She said Amy’s people, but there didn’t seem to be a real leader here. Everyone took on different things.
“I bet you have questions too,” Amy said.
“Not really.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
Chloe looked back at her. Amy smiled.
Chloe felt herself wanting to talk to Amy more and more.
After a few seconds of silence, she finally brought herself to ask a question.
“Why are... who are you people?”
“Right to the chase,” Amy said. “I like that. Only took you, what, three days? Might just exchange a handshake in a year.”
She winked. Chloe’s cheeks heated up.
Amy swigged back some more water. “We started off like everyone. Scared. Terrified. But more than anything, we started off being told what to do. Being rescued. Relying on men to fulfil their own bullshit patriarchal fantasies in the perfect sandbox for it. We decided we were sick of that. So decided we’d band together as women. Look out for ourselves. Besides, men are always a letdown when it comes to looking out for us anyway, as much as they don’t like to admit it. The reality never really matches up to the macho image in their heads.”
Chloe didn’t understand some of the words Amy said. But she got the idea. These women didn’t need men. They just needed each other.
“I worked for a big corporation before the world collapsed,” Amy said. “FedPlex. Oil company. And I was sick of being stamped on everywhere on the ladder. Men pretending they were the ones taking the lead. Men pretending they knew what they were doing. That they were the better gender somehow. And you know what?”
Chloe didn’t answer. She just raised her eyebrows.
“Enough time in an environment like that and you begin to actually believe it.”
Another pause between them as the sound of laughter roared from one of the tents.
“It’s not a surprise men thought they had to come to our damned rescue when the world collapsed. They’d spent a whole life pretending that was the way all along. And hell. Because some people started to actually believe it, some people just rolled over and let the world do its thing. Not us. We’re not having that. I wasn’t fucking having any of that. So I guess that’s what brought us together.”
Chloe was starting to see things a lot clearer now. They were tough. They were strong. But they weren’t like men. They weren’t like the tough, strong women in the films or in the video games Dad used to play.
They were women. And they liked that they were women.
They were proud of it.
And being women is what made them strong.
Chloë liked that idea.
“You can be safe here,” Amy said. “Not gonna lie, though, you are gonna have to start opening up. But this place, it can be yours. Yours and Kesha’s. Now I won’t pressure you. I know what other groups can be there. I never believed in forcing someone to be somewhere they didn’t want to stay. If you don’t, there’s a pack in your room. You’ll find enough food and water to get you by for a week or two, as well as a knife and a bow and arrow. You might have some trouble using the bow and arrow, but... well, we’ve all gotta learn somewhere right?”
Chloe nodded. She smiled. She heard what Amy was saying. And she respected it.
She wanted to thank her. To tell her she was going to stay here.
But deep down, she knew she couldn’t.
Because she had to get to the MLZ.
She had to get Kesha to a safer place than this. A more built-up place. A place where she already knew the people.
She couldn’t risk staying here. She couldn’t risk bonding with these people.
Because she couldn’t risk losing these people.
Amy put a hand on Chloe’s shoulder. Stood. “Think about it, anyway. I’ll leave you to mingle. See you at dinner, maybe. And seriously. Work on your manners, kid. It’s not a choice between humans and humanity. It never has been and it never has to be.”
She walked away. And although Chloe didn’t immediately understand her final words, they spun around her mind, taunted her.
It’s not a choice between humans and humanity. It never has been and it never has to be.
She looked back over at the girl, Carly. Saw her smiling back at her again. A twinkle in her eyes.
And then she stood. Walked over to her tent.
She saw the pack on her bed. Saw the bow and arrow. The water. The food—some squirrel meat, as well as a couple of other fully cooked squirrels, uneaten.
She felt bad when she looked at that pack.
She walked over to the side of the pack. Picked up the pencil they’d handed her. Pulled away a sheet of paper from the pack, and started to write.
She left the note on her pillow.
Then, she put the pack on her shoulder.
She took a deep breath. Walked out of her tent. Went over to Kesha, who was sitting outside another of the tents now, a bit of colour to her cheeks.
She tried not to think about what she was doing as she lifted Kesha up. As she walked towards the exit.
But she couldn’t help noticing the disappointment in Carly’s eyes.
She smiled at her. And Carly smiled back. A girl she could’ve known. A girl she could’ve got to know here.
But Chloe knew there were more important things to worry about right now. Bigger matters to deal with.
She shuffled the rucksack across her shoulder.
She tightened her grip on Kesha.
And then, taking a deep breath, she walked.
THIRTY-ONE
Amy knew something was wrong the moment she stepped inside Chloë’s tent.
It was quiet in there. Quiet, and empty. To think about it, she hadn’t noticed Kesha crying or anything for quite some time. That should’ve been her first heads up that something was amiss.
She got a bitter taste in her mouth as she walked around the side of Chloë’s sleeping bag. She looked down at it, all flattened and folded. She knew right then that Chloë had decided not to stay. She’d gone. This place wasn’t right for her after all. At least, she didn’t think it was.
Amy walked closer to the foot of the sleeping bag. There was something on there. A note of some kind. She picked it up. Unfolded it, noticing the bag she’d left for Chloë in case she did decide to leave was gone, too.
