“Tell it to me again,”
Jared said as they sat at the kitchen table, squeezing out the last rays of
daylight before the whole city plunged into thick darkness.
Cassie rolled her eyes,
something she never would have done with any of the other leaders at the base
camp, but Jared didn’t flinch. “This isn’t a game, Cassie.”
She blew out a
frustrated breath. “We travel silently. No main roads. If we see anyone, we do
not engage. No helping strangers no matter how badly we want to. You are in
charge. What you say goes.” At this last part, she rolled her eyes again. She
was eight-years-old and acted eighteen Jared thought as he looked, really
looked, into his daughter’s face. When had she turned into a small version of
Eve with her dark, arched eyebrows and her red, puckered mouth that frowned,
disappointed, whenever she thought Jared was being ridiculous? At the thought
of Eve, a flare of regret and remorse gripped him, but he pushed it away.
“Good,” he said,
handing her the smaller pack. “Let’s go.”
They walked to the back
door with little fanfare. He’d taken only one photo and one book. A survivalist
knows what’s important after all. Plus, his bag was stuffed with the most
precious cargo from the Faraday Cages. It’d been hard to pick from the three
barrels of electronics, but he’d made good choices. Then they’d taken pains to
hide the rest in a cobwebby corner of the basement under tarps and cardboard
boxes. It would be a miracle if everything remained untouched until they’d be
able to send a team back to get the rest, but Jared liked to think miracles
still happened.
As he took his final
step across the threshold of his house, a pain clenched his heart. He never was
good with goodbyes.
Three days. It would
take three days at best to reach the camp. Three days of night walking, exposed
to any number of dangers along the way. They’d heard the gun shots, seen the
fires. Chaos reigned in a world gone dark. If he was honest, three days was a
generous guess. With Cassie’s illness they were lucky if they could make ten
miles a night. It was thirty-seven miles to the camp. He’d inched his fingers
along the map, counting and swearing and wishing to God Eve would've let them
move closer liked he’d begged three years ago. Thirty-seven miles. And Cassie
hadn’t kept down a full meal in four days.
Ten miles a night would
be a miracle.
They slipped down the
walkway and into the neighbor’s yard, the grass already pushing up past their
ankles. How quickly things went to rot, he mused. He flicked a glance at the
house, but his eyes didn’t linger there. Instead they swept the dim street,
noting the changes his nice suburban cul-de-sac had undergone. Two houses
burned to the ground and another singed like an overdone casserole. On the
other side of the road, a Volvo stood, doors open, windows smashed into tiny
glass shards that winked in the twilight. As they passed another house, a
curtain twitched and he caught a glimpse of a face before it ducked back into
the shadows. His hand itched as if wanting to draw the Remington 1911 from his
shoulder harness. But the last thing he wanted to do was stalk the streets with
a handgun pointed at every shadow. It was a great way to get shot by frightened
neighbors and, besides, he didn’t want Cassie to think that was what the world
had come to. Not yet, anyway.
The swish of the grass
and the hum of cicadas accompanied them as they trekked past the yards and
through a dense field. He flicked a glance at Cassie to see if she was
appreciating his insistence on the long black pants instead of the shorts she’d
wanted to wear. She said nothing, just walked, head high, eyes alert like she’d
been trained. His gaze fell on the pink sparkly nail polish on hands that
gripped a survival pack. The paint was already chipped and fading.
Cassie stopped
mid-stride, her body tensing. He jogged up beside her and studied her face. It
was twisted in pain.
“What is it?” he
whispered, putting a hand on her shoulder. It was hot. Burning hot.
Her hands went to her stomach
and she doubled over. Jared watched helplessly as she wretched the MRE meal
into the weeds. Only after she’d throw up twice did he remember to hold her
hair back. God, how could he be so good at some things and so useless at
others? It wasn’t the first time he missed Eve since she’d left.
“Are you okay?” Stupid
question, he thought.
She stood, hands on
knees, spitting into the grass. “Water.”
He dug around and
unsnapped his water bottle from his pack. She took it and drank. He didn’t have
the heart to remind her of rationing as he watched her hands tremble.
Long minutes passed as
they stood in the grass, batting away mosquitoes, Cassie resting. How far had
they gone, a half mile? Thirty-seven miles might as well be three thousand.
He was clipping the
water bottle to his pack when he heard it. A crackle in the grass. Twigs
breaking.
Someone or something
was coming.
He grabbed Cassie’s arm
and tugged forward. Her eyes widened and she followed, sprinting through the
grass. The sound of pursuit followed.
They ran for a half
mile through grass that grabbed at their clothes and the bushes that scraped
their flesh. Cassie’s breath became ragged. He glanced at her, willing her to
keep going. What he didn’t say was there were at least three human shadows
running after them. He thought about the hand gun, but dismissed it. Shots in
the dark were just that.
When she fell, she fell
hard, tumbling into the grass with a cry that tore his heart to pieces. He
reached down to pull her up, but she might has well have been boneless. He
should have known. She was her mother’s daughter and didn’t quit until it was
impossible not to.
He tried to lift her, but,
between the heft of his pack and the weight of his daughter, the strangers
would be on them in minutes. He looked at his pack, filled with priceless working electronic
devices, the only usable currency in this broken world. Then he looked at his
daughter. His baby girl. Wet curls clung to her sweat drenched forehead.
There was only one
choice.
He unzipped the pack,
pulling out the one item they could not live without, and put the rest on
display. The GPS, the cell phones, the lap top with solar power supply. So many
untold treasures. Treasures they would need.
But none more than he
needed his daughter.
He hefted Cassie into
his arms and took off running.
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