The Canyon: A Short Story (Voices of the Apocalypse Series Book 1)
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We shake hands with Joe and leave the surplus store lighter and much more equipped to handle the trek.
At the house, we get in a few more hours of sleep before we head out on what I’m now calling our extended camping trip. Before we leave, I shove a stack of journals into Lillian’s backpack. I hold my daughter’s face, looking deep into her tired eyes. “No matter what happens out there, promise me that you’ll write down everything–from the initial phases of the Repatterning, all the way through until you’re an old lady and your fingers are riddled with arthritis. I want you to record every detail so future generations will know what happened. So they will know what to look out for. Your journals might end up being the only records to account for what happened. Do you understand?”
Lillian looks up at me and smiles with confidence. “I promise to write down every single thing.”
We drive through the empty neighborhood in silence, whispering goodbye to our old life. I follow the map and park at the top of the street near the address written down. Once the sun goes down it’s dark enough to start our journey toward Temescal Canyon. We locate the house on the map and cut through the backyard toward the bushes. Lillian and I push our way through to the other side and find the trail. Rags starts peeing on everything, leaving behind her scent.
“It’s a few miles to the first checkpoint,” I say. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.” Lillian pats my backpack and we head up the slope.
As we trudge up the hill, with only my tiny flashlight illuminating the dirt path, I’m overcome with a strength I can’t call my own. Something far greater is providing the courage to propel up the mountain. Maybe it’s a combination of faith and my motherly instinct to keep my only remaining child alive. Lillian follows closely behind, and I’m so proud of her determination. I’m filled with an overwhelming assurance that she’ll be able to handle whatever lies ahead. My daughter is a survivor. I can rest in peace, knowing I gave her this gift.
###
After the grueling three-mile hike, we reach the top and I whistle three times. We wait in the shadows, until a flash of light strikes our eyes, blinding us.
“Joe sent us,” I call out toward the light.
A silhouette of a man steps closer toward us. “Mary and Lillian?”
“That’s us,” Lillian answers.
The man aims his flashlight toward the dirt, and I can see again. He smiles warmly and extends his hand. “I’m John. Good to have you on board. Let’s get to camp. We’re just a few hundred yards away.”
We follow John down a steep hill toward a campfire at the bottom. He introduces us to the group of six other people. Lillian doesn’t waste a second finding a spot next to a tree. She sets out her sleeping bag and gets inside it with Rags. I stand next to the fire with the other adults, and John hands me a hot cup of coffee.
I’m blown away by the kindness of these strangers. “Thanks,” I say, trying not to cry.
Part of me is so relieved to be here, but another part of me is terrified. I think back to that underground bunker in our neighbor’s yard. I wonder if we should’ve just stayed there. I know it’s only fear trying to creep its way into my thoughts. We need to band together with people like us. The bunker would’ve been safe, but not for long.
“You’re probably wondering why on earth you’re standing in the woods with a bunch of strangers. Trust me; we all feel the same way. Seems crazy to run off to the woods,” John says.
“It seems crazier to go to one of those emergency camps. I’m guessing we have a much higher survival rate. I don’t trust the ECCs for a second.”
“That’s because you’re a smart woman. The fact that you made it here with your daughter shows you’re a survivor. And a fighter. It’s going to be a tough road ahead, but if we stick together, we can eventually overcome these bastards. Justice will prevail. We might not see it in our time, but our future generations will have a chance.”
John’s voice is so powerful; I catch myself nodding. Though I have no idea what the future holds, I feel like anything is possible. “How long will we stay in the canyon?” I ask.
John sips his coffee. “We’re not staying here.”
I’m shocked by this information and rocketed back into a state of fear. “Where are we going?”
“North. Eventually we’re going to start over. Rebuild our communities and create our own group to fight the elites. But first, we’re going to work on one of their plantations.”
I’m not sure I’m hearing him correctly. “Did you just say plantation?”
“For now, the elites need the plantation to keep the food supply going until they complete the Los Angeles City Center. They’re using anyone who isn’t going to the ECCs and putting them to work as slaves. It’s not ideal, but it will serve a purpose.”
I stare into the flames, wondering why John would think becoming slaves would be a good thing. I’m starting to question my decision about coming to the canyon. “What purpose? I don’t understand. Maybe I’m missing something, but why in God’s good name would we work for the elites? If we wanted to do that, why not just turn ourselves in at the ECCs?”
“The emergency camps are death traps, you know that. Our plan works on two levels. While we’re working on the plantations, we can infiltrate the system and gather intelligence. At the same time, we’ll learn how to farm and start storing seeds, equipment, and livestock. When we have enough, we’ll escape. We can start building our own free community. But it will be slow and strategic process.”
John’s plan sounds legit, but I’m struggling. “How will we get off the plantation? I recall a time in our history when that wasn’t so easy.”
“We’ll be gathering everything we need to break out: weapons, tools, and whatever else we can use. We have a headquarters close by with someone stationed there, who will be our connection to the outside world.” John puts his arm around my shoulder and gives me a hearty squeeze. “It’s our best option, Mary.”
I don’t know this man, or any of the other faces staring at me in the glow of the fire, but for some reason I trust him.
###
In the morning, Lillian and Rags join the group at the campfire. I hold back a chuckle, watching Lillian take her first sip of coffee and pretending to be unfazed. My stoic little survivor. She’s talking to John’s son, Aaron. I’m grateful there’s someone close to her in age. They take Rags for a walk, while I stay by the fire, praying for continued strength.
Before we leave for the next leg of our journey, John calls everyone over.
“We’ve lost much. We’ve made huge sacrifices.” He’s right about that. Everyone nods, tears in their eyes. We’ll never forget. “And there will be more ahead. Many tests to endure. While many have given up faith, this group is still alive. That must be for a reason. We must stick together to fulfill this calling. Fight against this corruption and restore humanity. They may have taken our loved ones, our property and our material belongings, but they can never take away our faith. That’s how we’ll win this battle. Everyone, please bow your heads. Father, we ask that you watch over us and guide us on this journey. We look to you for comfort and trust, to be shown the way even when it looks like all paths are closed. Amen.”
###
Along the hike, I stick with John and stay out of Lillian’s way, so she can talk her new friend, Aaron. It’s the first time I’ve seen her happy in almost a year. I listen to the others share stories about what they lost in the Repatterning. I get a better understanding about the elites’ rollout plan for their sickening New Agenda. Anger buries deep in the pit of my soul hearing about their plan to wipe out the population and start over by breeding new and improved humans inside various city centers across the country. The elites want to build a robot society to control for their own means.
The air is getting heavy with smoke, and I tie a scarf around my face and put on my sunglasses to keep out the ash. I turn around to see Los Angeles on fire. If anyone stayed behind, they’re gone n
ow. I stand on the mountain peak, watching the entire city getting swallowed by flames. I think about all of the innocent lives lost, which makes me more disgusted by the elites. What gave them the right to destroy everything? And why didn’t we stop them before it got to this point?
John taps my shoulder. “Don’t look back, Mary. We gotta keep moving forward now.”
And that’s what we do. We trek through the woods until we reach a red bus parked between the trees. The side of the bus reads, “Hollywood Tours.” We climb inside and sit down just like the tourist used to do; only this time nobody is smiling or taking photos. We’re quiet. John drives the bus down a bumpy trail; the branches scrape the sides and poke at us through the open windows. After a short drive, he turns down another trail into the thickest part of the woods.
He pulls over to a grouping of trees near a hillside, gets up, and exits the bus. Everyone follows in silence.
“This is headquarters,” he tells us. “This is where we’ll store everything we have with us today. Your weapons, ammo, personal belongings all stay behind. Eventually, this is where we’ll start storing the supplies and seeds we take from the plantation. This is also our designated meeting place. If we get separated, we meet here six months to the day.”
I glance at Lillian. She’s staring at me with tears in her eyes. I know she’s worried about getting separated. We’re all we have left. The thought of losing her makes me think of things far worse than Los Angeles on fire. We look through our personal belongings one last time before we throw our backpacks into the hole in the ground. I hold a family photo that was taken about four years back. The light in our eyes seems foreign to me. I know our belongings will be safe wrapped inside a plastic tarp and buried in the ground. But I don’t know if we’ll ever make it back to this spot to retrieve them. I kiss the photo and put it into my Bible. I drop my backpack into the hole. Some fragments of my heart also crumble to the dirt below.
Books By Simone Pond
THE CITY CENTER
THE NEW AGENDA
THE MAINFRAME
THE TORRENT
VOICES OF THE APOCALYPSE: SHORT STORIES
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