by Jade White
“JJ?” he called out.
JJ didn’t look back. “Hey, Steph,” he said in a dull voice.
“You okay?”
JJ said nothing, and Stephen pulled in closer. He looked at JJ, noting that he had no injuries whatsoever, just like him. Perhaps, smoke had filled the room, causing their unconsciousness days prior. JJ continued to look beyond the tall window, so Stephen decided to stand up beside his brother, awkwardly holding onto the handles of the chair.
There was a fiery sunset across the sky, something that Stephen hadn’t truly appreciated until today.
“I remember it’s my birthday today,” JJ said. “I know I’m sixteen.”
“Oh.” Where were the candles? The birthday treats? They weren’t small children anymore, but their mother always made sure she celebrated it in the most fun ways. He couldn’t find it in himself to greet his brother, knowing how foolish it would have sounded.
“I know we were attacked at the White House, but the rest, I no longer remember,” JJ finished. “Father came to see us earlier. He told me you were asleep, and so was mother. He didn’t even greet me on my birthday. I could apply for military training now that I’m of age. I think I’ll do it tomorrow.” His thoughts were jumbled, and his words came out rushed.
“You’re not even well enough yet,” Stephen protested, wanting to go with his older brother.
JJ turned to look at him, giving him a grim smile. “I already am.”
CHAPTER THREE
Present day, December 2120
Alexia and Ryker had been traveling together for almost a full month now, and the silence between them was persistent. Each was wrapped in their own little bubble of thoughts and anxieties, wondering when they would ever get to Washington. They had been stuck in Illinois for over a week now. Illinois was part of those heavily guarded states, as it was a heavy weapons manufacturer, and they could do nothing but stay in the shadows, travelling occasionally and stopping when necessary.
Sometimes, he would exchange heavy labor for free food or money, pretending to be an orphan trying to make an earnest living. He preferred the free food. Cash meant lengthier interactions with people he bought things from. He left Alexia in abandoned buildings, and, once, he brought over a book on the history of the United States. It was a washed history, but it was reading material for her, nonetheless. It would keep her busy, all of its thousand pages.
She would stay in the same place for hours, immersed in the book, never venturing out unless he instructed her to. It felt like a prison to her sometimes. He was right. They were never truly ‘free.’ They were prisoners to their own existence; they were portents of a looming disaster or a looming rebellion.
She kept warm this day beside a little furnace that barely let up any smoke, dressed in four layers of thermal clothing, including one thick jacket he had ‘borrowed’ from a laundry line a mere week before the snow had started to fall in the city. They were careful, and Ryker was extra careful as he worked with people around.
He was worried about Alexia’s health, though. It seemed like she was getting sick again. It was the cold, something she had not been used to in her temperature-controlled environment. He did his best to keep her warm, but what had transpired in the cave back then hadn’t occurred again. She had a fire beside her, although it wasn’t a roaring one. He had read in discarded newspapers that the snowfall was going to disappear in a few days, part of the country’s weird weather since the nuclear civil war.
He had just gotten back from hauling crates of meat into a small grocer’s shop, with a paper bag of food safely tucked inside his coat. Which abandoned building was this? He had lost track. They moved frequently, and he was pleased that there were many empty structures in this part of town, the old Illinois that had been damaged by the war. There were transients like him, all human. They all walked in the shadows like he and Alexia did, and they didn’t ask who they were or where they were from. There were far better things to think about than other ‘homeless’ people around them. They kept to themselves; Ryker instructed Alexia to talk to no one, pretend she was mute. She was good at it. Sometimes she pretended she was deaf, which was even better.
Alexia knew that she was dumbing down for the public. They could easily spot her and betray her once she spoke. She could never lie, and Ryker realized early on that she was a bad liar. He saw her, sitting by the tiny fire she had made with old newspapers and discarded wallpaper placed inside a broken ceramic jar. The windows were broken, but at least there was a ceiling. They were well above the fifth floor of some old office building with its abandoned cubicles and decaying walls.
“You hungry?” he asked her. It was the same question he asked every day. It was a conversation starter, but it usually ended there, too.
She nodded, eyeing Ryker as he reached inside his jacket. He took out a medium-sized paper bag, a bit squished; she could smell the bread. He showed the results of his trade for the day: a loaf of sourdough, a can of sundried tomatoes, and a pack of beef jerky. It smelled heavenly to Alexia. She had saved up rain water to drink for later, keeping it inside a thermos she had salvaged from the building. He cut up the bread and gave it to her.
“Thanks,” she said quietly, setting her book down.
“Would you like for me to open the tomatoes?”
She shook her head. “We can save that for later.”
“I can find another place to work. The old man earlier was nice, but I think he was wary of me.”
“Everyone’s wary of everyone,” she finished.
They ate their bread in silence, with Alexia nibbling on it slowly, knowing she would need to savor every morsel of processed wheat that went into her mouth. At least they could eat, even if it was only once a day at times. There was a map of the United States in her book, and the next place to move to would be Missouri. The further south they went, the warmer it would be for her. Ryker didn’t tell her of this plan yet, and he decided he would tell her this now.
“We’re moving in a few hours,” he said, breaking the silence.
“Haven’t we always?” she replied mildly.
“To Missouri.”
“I thought we were aiming for north,” she said.
“It’s too cold for you,” he said. He saw that flicker of frustration in her eyes. He saw her bite her lower lip, knowing she couldn’t say anything to defend herself. She was a human through and through, and the cold would kill her before she could even get to Oregon.
“What makes you think they won’t figure out our pattern?” she asked him.
“Have we ever had a pattern?” Ryker retorted. He was doing this out of instinct. Never leave a pattern, never stay in the same place for too long. He had heard Kansas wasn’t as heavily infiltrated by the military, something that had to do with the country’s grain production. They could hide out for a while there…
“What do you plan to do? Steal a car?” she sighed. Surely, he couldn’t expect her to walk that far and in the cold. He had said it himself, anyway. She wouldn’t survive the cold.
“We’ll find a way,” Ryker said, his jaw hardening.
Alexia said nothing more, knowing that Ryker always found a way, no matter how uncomfortable or risky it was going to be. She had come to appreciate his survival skills, but she still couldn’t find herself fully trusting him. He could dump her any time he wanted to, despite what Dr. Delaney had pleaded for from him. He hadn’t been a part of the program as a child, and that skewed sense of loyalty would never come from him, that psychological need to be a part of something, no matter how abusive. Dr. Delaney had spoken to her about that a few years ago to pique her interest.
Perhaps that was why she felt torn about having realized she had finally left the lab for good. She was free from them, but her life was now without them, a life she had been used to, even if she had thought of escape countless times in those conscious and pained moments. She missed brushing her teeth frequently. Dr. Delaney had once said she had beautiful teeth, something
that made her happy.
Alexia blinked, knowing she was playing games with her mind. There was no sense in thinking about Dr. Delaney. She was dead. She had seen countless children die, countless werebeings die in that sector, and, every time it’d happened, it had saddened her. Dr. Delaney’s death affected her more than those children ever had. She was the closest thing to a mother…
Ryker placed the can of tomatoes inside a worn-out looking backpack, among their other meager supplies salvaged from garbage bins and old houses. He had gotten some rope, a lighter and duct tape, apart from a few cans of food he had saved. He knew Alexia ate little, afraid that there might be no more food left for tomorrow. He didn’t stop her from eating so little. Even he was unsure of when their next filling meal was going to be.
“Have you always been this cold-hearted?” she suddenly found herself asking.
“Excuse me?” Ryker’s head snapped up.
“You seem like you don’t care for much.”
“I want to survive.”
“It’s difficult with me around, isn’t it?”
Ryker shook his head, his lips pursing. She saw his eyes narrow, those icy blue ones that seemed to glitter against the small fire.
“It’s not difficult,” he told her. “You don’t know me, so don’t say I’m cold-hearted.”
“Well, how do I get to know you?” she pressed on.
He shook his head. She was getting on his nerves. “You don’t need to get to know me. I’m just taking you to where I’m supposed to take you.”
“You protect me.”
“I’m obligated to.”
“It sounds like a bad thing.”
“Of course, it’s a bad thing,” Ryker snapped at her. “I’m looking after my own “public enemy number one” ass while protecting you.”
She closed her eyes. She taunted him, and at least the truth came out. He didn’t want to be with her at all. It was a pitiful realization, and she didn’t want to be alone. She didn’t want him to leave her alone even if she challenged him.
“But it doesn’t mean I’m leaving you alone,” Ryker finished. “Get some sleep. I’m waking you up in a few.”
Alexia slowly crawled back to her little corner, her back against a wall, with torn carpeting underneath her. She watched as Ryker turned his back from her, ready to catch some sleep. He still had that resolve in him to live, while she, she was wavering. Would it always be like this? She had imagined she could take charge, handle her day-to-day affairs, handle her own survival, only- she couldn’t. She was as weak as the rest of those poor children in the laboratory. The ones that hadn’t survived…
She forced herself to close her eyes, listening to water drip from a long-busted pipe and to the wind howling outside, bringing about dropping temperatures. She hugged herself tighter, longing for a larger fire to keep her insides warm. The cold crept up to her lungs, and she didn’t like it at all. The outside world was as harsh as the inside world she had grown up in.
The dreams she’d had before suddenly stopped. She didn’t want to forget those voices, those blurred faces that came to her while she slept. No matter how empty it made her feel when she woke up, she figured it had been a part of that lost childhood. A memory was a memory, no matter how faint; that night, she prayed she would have those dreams once more.
*
It was a long walk through the darkness, and Alexia looked back once in a while to see the city lights slowly fade away. They always took small alleyways and back roads; Ryker had told her there were lesser closed-circuit cameras and police in those places. He knew better, of course.
Seeing the urban landscape for the first time, Alexia felt a pang of loneliness hit her. She had been stuck in one of those buildings for days on end, and now she was leaving again without ever fully exploring the place. It was a sad reality for someone who had never been outside until that fateful escape.
The snow had stopped falling that night, much to her relief. It meant she could still keep these boots on, just to ward off the cold on her feet. Ryker’s shoes were in poor condition, too, but he didn’t seem to mind. She wondered when they could steal clothes once more. All of a sudden, stealing had become commonplace. It made her feel bad at first, but now, she swallowed the guilt. She needed these, and she hoped those people she had stolen from had extras or could afford to buy what she and Ryker had taken.
They passed by a thin forest, thin enough for some stars to shine through. Alexia stopped, looking up at the skies. What guided her was Ryker’s excellent vision and those sparse lamps that lined the highway just a few hundred feet away from them. She could swear her eyesight had begun to adjust to the darkness.
There was little she could do in that long stretch of road, except to follow Ryker. She was bad at initiating conversations, although she knew Dr. Delaney conversed with her on purpose, so she’d learn about human conduct and the importance of talking.
There were times when she couldn’t stand the silence between them, and she would transport herself into some other world in her mind, trying to remember various books she had read back in the facility, trying to remember the voices of those children she had lived with. She remembered the details on their faces, and it surprised her to actually remember their faces down to the birthmarks and the color of their eyes. Only, she couldn’t remember their names.
Had she blocked their names out on purpose? She could only remember a few now. Many had died. She remembered Caliban. They didn’t change his name. She had called him Caliban as a child. Now, Caliban was hell-bent on capturing her and Ryker. She had thought once of surrendering. There was a part of her that had died long ago in that facility anyway… Then, Ryker’s face would surface in her thoughts, and she knew full well that, every day, he risked his life to save her.
She looked at his back as he trudged in the cold weather, his head bent down against the sudden gust of wind that hit them. He looked back at her. “We need to find shelter.”
Shelter. He was good at finding shelter. Sometimes, Alexia envisioned him as the personification of shelter. She followed him as he delved deeper into the woods, her eyes closing once in a while from the biting cold. She could hardly keep them open, and then she stumbled. How long had they been walking? She shook her head, feeling the cold earth underneath her palms and the snow, now inches deep. Her hands froze. Then, she felt hands on her shoulders. She looked up and saw Ryker’s eyes that seemed to shine in the dead of night.
“Get up. You can do this,” he coaxed.
You can do this. She had done the unthinkable in the last few days. She had escaped from murderous men, she had escaped starvation and the cold, and she’d fallen into raging waters. How long could she manage doing this? She forced herself to get up; then, she felt her knees give way again.
She shook her head. “I can’t.”
Ryker took a step back and nodded. He stripped himself of his clothes, giving his backpack to her. Alexia weakly forced herself to sit up, ignoring the cold on her buttocks and the wetness seeping through her pants. Ryker walked for a darker portion of the forest, one covered by thick bushes.
There, she heard growls and grunts and the sound of something that ripped, almost like skin. Ryker emerged a minute later, clearly self-conscious about shifting once more. He lumbered towards her on all fours. Alexia stared at him for a moment, then his head moved, and he motioned for the backpack.
Alexia slid it on her back, and she stood up with the help of Ryker. She clung onto his fur awkwardly, and he bent down to help her get up on it. He said nothing as she steadied herself on his back. As soon as she had settled down, he began to walk. It felt like riding on water, the whole sitting on his back thing. She felt nauseated, but she said nothing. His fur did help greatly, though, and she wished he’d offer her more of his warmth whenever he shifted (which was rare).
She enjoyed the feel of thick fur under her fingers. She didn’t want to ask if she was hurting him, though. She knew her grip was tight, for fear she mig
ht fall off of him. She had never touched him this way before; somehow, the warmth emanating from his body, coupled with the soft hair, made her calm down.
Ryker said nothing, even though he could converse well enough. He was wary that his voice would be much louder than he could control. The way she touched his fur was pretty calming, he had to admit. He had no other recourse but to shift. She was too weak to walk, and it was getting too cold for her.
Perhaps he had been wrong to travel that night, but he had heard of whispers in the city that the government had been looking for two young transients, male and female. They were a moving target inside that city. This was the next best thing to do, he thought. Shifting was a matter of pride to him, and he disliked the pain, but seeing her exhausted changed his perspective.
Just for tonight, he thought. The walk was long and arduous, and Alexia could feel her eyes closing. They were too tired to stay awake. She had gotten used to the wave of steps that he took, and it began to lull her to sleep. Snow swirled around them, and there was no shelter in sight. Ryker stopped and shook Alexia awake by shaking his back vigorously. She took a deep breath and shook herself out of her lethargy.
“Stay awake,” he grunted in a voice unlike his own.
It was the first time she had heard a werebeing speak in person. She could sometimes talk to them without saying anything, and sometimes, she could hear their thoughts, too. But to hear him speak, it bordered on strange. It did its trick, though. She was now wide awake, but they had gone so deep into the forest that she couldn’t see a thing.
His pace picked up, and before she knew it, there was a large crevice, covered by gnarled roots from a long dead tree. It seemed like it had been dug up by a large creature before. She slid down on solid ground, hearing the snow crunch under her shoes. Ryker checked the inside of the crevice before he nudged her hand and awkwardly led her in.
