The Union

by T. H. Hernandez

  “And you shouldn’t be walking that far on your ankle yet,” Sonia adds. “We can go in a few days.” The finality of her tone leaves no room for argument.

  The low rumble of thunder rolls above us, something I haven’t heard since leaving home in June. We walk to the edge of the tree line and look east. A single massive cloud swells up to an astronomic height. Every minute or two, it snaps a brilliant pink and yellow, as if thousands of lights inside are going off at once.

  “And so begins monsoon season,” Marcus says.

  “Monsoon season?”

  “Yep. We get most of our rain this time of year in the form of daily thunderstorms. It can come down hard enough to cause flooding, but stops as fast as it starts.”

  Standing here watching nature’s light show, I don’t think I’ve ever witnessed anything more beautiful.

  Sonia and Marcus went back to the house after breakfast with promises of returning in a few days. Cyrus and I spend the morning at target practice. He’s amazingly patient with me, but I’m ready to scream in frustration. I can line the shot up, but when I shoot, I still miss.

  “You’re too keyed up, Evan. Relax and focus on your breathing.”

  I doubt my breathing is the problem, but I’m willing to try anything at this point. I swipe my hair from my face with the back of my arm as he stands dangerously close, the heat from his body distracting me.

  “Rest the butt against your shoulder, like this.” He positions the rifle for me, wrapping his hands around mine. This is the first time he’s touched me since the other night and this isn’t doing anything to help me relax or focus. “Take in a deep breath and steady the rifle. Keep your breath even and gently squeeze the trigger. Don’t pull it.”

  I try, but miss again and tell him I’m hungry so I don’t need to admit I want to quit.

  We’ve managed to stay busy since Sonia and Marcus left, but the knot of tension hovering above us is a reminder of what happened the other night, or rather what didn’t happen.

  After dinner, we sit by the fire as it snaps, sending sparks up into the cobalt sky, filling the awkward lapses in conversation until I reach my tipping point.

  “Cyrus?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Can we talk about the other night?”

  He turns to face me, his eyes intense on mine.

  “I hate this…” I move my hand in a sweeping motion between us. “…awkwardness. I want things to be the way they were before.”

  He reaches for my hand and tugs closer, wrapping his arms around me. “Nothing’s changed, I promise, but I’m worried about you. About what you’re giving up to stay here.”

  I swallow around the lump in my throat. I guess we’re finally going to address the giant elephant in the Ruins. I’m acutely aware of what this decision is doing to me, I just didn’t realize he knew it, too. Plus, I need to make sure he’s really thought about what this means, what kind of commitment this is. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

  He sighs and leans his forehead into mine. “Yes. I’m sure.”

  “Okay,” I whisper.

  “Sonia told me you heard some things about me, but that was before…before I fell in love with you.”

  I search his eyes and find only certainty. That’s all I need. “Okay,” I whisper again.

  He reaches out and tucks a curl behind my ear. “I don’t want you to realize in six months, or a year, or even two years that you made a mistake.” He pauses and closes his eyes. “If you stay, there will be plenty of time to pick the right time and place, but if you don’t…” He shakes his head. “I don’t want you to regret it.”

  I close my eyes and nod. “That’s why I have to see the evidence for myself. If I’m never going back…I have stay for the right reasons.”

  He kisses my temple. “I know this his hard, Ev, but I’ll do whatever I can to make it easier for you.”

  I sigh and relax against him, wishing I knew what that was.

  29

  The Right Reasons

  We wait on the bench for Sonia and Marcus to return. I lean into Cyrus and let the boy I love and the beauty of a Ruins morning fill me with happiness. Both of us are quiet, listening to the sounds of the wind rustling the leaves around us and the trickling of the stream below.

  I’ve told him my whole story, start to finish, but I’m still missing a piece of it myself. How they came upon me. I twist to face him. “Tell me about the day you found me out here.”

  He blows out a slow breath while I settle back against him. “We were almost at the end of our three-day hike home, tired and short-tempered. I was looking forward to sleeping in my own bed.”

  I smile. “Didn’t get to do that, did you?”

  “No, but I’m not complaining.” His voice hints at his own smile.

  My grin grows broader and I reach out to lace my fingers with his.

  “The boys ran ahead, excited to get home. Ben was so far in front, we couldn’t even see him until we crested a hill. He was still, just staring at the ground. When we got closer, I saw something red near his feet and thought it was a fox. Knowing Ben, he’d try to pet it, so I dropped my bag and ran after him. Somewhere in those first few steps, I realized it wasn’t an animal, but a person. I thought you were dead, but Sonia found a pulse. So, I picked you up and carried you to the house. We had no idea you were from the Union until Sonia took off your socks and saw your painted toenails, uncallused hands, and your strange lack of body hair.”

  “I’m glad it was you and not someone else.” I tilt my head back and he bends down to press his lips to mine. It’s the first real kiss we’ve shared since the “night nothing happened,” as I now refer to it. He deepens it, sliding his tongue into my mouth, and I wrap my hand around the back of his neck before twisting to face him, straddling his lap.

  My pulse quickens, and his heart stampedes under my palm. I love that I have the same effect on him he has on me.

  “Hey, you guys ready?” Sonia calls out.

  Cyrus nips my bottom lip and smiles. “Guess it’s time to go.”

  We hop up and walk out to greet them. Sonia hands me a backpack. “How’s the ankle?”

  “Good to go.”

  Marcus hands a rifle to Cyrus and Cyrus offers me the one I’ve been practicing with. A look passes between the them, and Marcus raises an eyebrow. Cyrus nods, the corners of his mouth tipping up.

  “Are you going to accidentally shoot one of us with that thing?” Sonia is much less subtle.

  I shrug. “I hope not. But if shooting breaks out, you might want to get out of my way.”

  We head northwest, deeper into the wooded area, over ground thick with leaves and underbrush that crunches beneath our boots.

  The power station is fifteen miles away, so we should arrive by nightfall. The trees thin and the dense groundcover gives way to boulders and low-growing scrubby plants as we approach the western edge of the woods.

  Once we clear the tree line, the sun beats down, scorching the air around us. The landscape sprawls like an endless sea of dirt and rocks, splattered with weeds, and cactus. Hills rise in the distance, brown and lifeless, and ripples on the horizon remind me for all of the lushness behind us, we are in a desert.

  Closer to the hills, the carcass of a long-dead city bakes in the unrelenting heat. We approach a wide road, forty to fifty yards across, with a short crumbling concrete wall in the center. Grass and weeds grow through the mangled pavement where the road buckled from extreme temperatures.

  Beyond the road are miles of buildings. Some stand tall, but years of neglect left most in ruins. Scattered rubble gives no indication of its former glory. We skirt the outside of the abandoned city, avoiding the wreckage.

  “The cities are occupied by scavengers these days,” Marcus explains when he catches me staring at the destroyed city. “They harvest building materials and furniture, but they’re a rough bunch, so it’s best to avoid them.”

  More buildings occupy the eastern side, some in sli
ghtly better condition. Sadness settles over me as I try to imagine life here before the war, the heat, the bombs, and the droughts took their toll. I picture children playing in yards covered in grass instead. It’s hard to believe these were once the mighty cities of the old United States.

  “We’ll take the next turn off on the left,” Cyrus says, leading us across the road, up and over the crumbling center half wall, to a smaller street veering off.

  We pick our way over a large pile of rubble.

  “This used to be a bridge,” Sonia says. “See those.” She points at thick rods poking out of the ground. “That’s where it connected on the other side.”

  The sun sets over the hills to the west as we make our way down the wreckage. “It’s not much farther,” Marcus says.

  Dusk brings long shadows and looming darkness, so we search for a suitable place to make camp for the night. We come across a small group of outbuildings that provide adequate cover and pitch our tents.

  Cyrus and I take the first sentry duty while Sonia and Marcus get some sleep. Sitting outside the tents, we keep an eye on our surroundings, listening for anything out of place. We’re about halfway through our shift when boredom sets in.

  “What do you miss most from the Union?” Cyrus asks. “Besides your family and friends.”

  “What about my dog?”

  He smiles. “I’m assuming your dog is part of your family.”

  “Okay.” I pause and think for a moment. “Coffee.”

  “What’s so great about coffee?”

  “Oh wow, where do I start? Coffee’s dark and rich, and the smell…oh my god, it’s like it enters your nose and winds its tendrils into your brain hugging it with warmth.”

  He grunts, but the corners of his mouth give away his amusement. “What else?”

  “Hot showers. Sushi.”

  “Soo-shee?”

  “Sushi. It’s Japanese. Raw fish and rice.”

  His eyebrow notches up. “You miss eating raw fish?”

  I laugh. “Not any raw fish. Only specific kinds prepared a certain way. It’s kind of hard to explain, but it’s so fresh, it melts in your mouth.” A few moments of silence follow before I query him. “What’s your favorite childhood memory?”

  “Hmmm.” He thinks for a moment before a smile tugs at his lips. “The first time I went to a Summer Festival. I was ten. Our whole town went together as a group. We had to walk five days to get there. That’s probably why we’d never gone before, the distance would’ve been too much for the younger kids.”

  His smile reaches his voice as he continues. “Tents, booths, musicians — everything you could ever want was for sale or trade. More people in one place than I’d ever seen. They had these games pitting families and towns against one another for bragging rights. That’s all it took for everyone to compete like their lives depended on it.”

  The animated tone in his voice reaches deep inside and touches me, making me wish I’d known him before heartbreak and loss stole his playful side.

  Suddenly, his body tenses and he locks eyes with mine. Confused, I start to say something, but he puts a finger to his lips. I strain to hear what set him on alert and freeze. Distant voices grow louder and more raucous as they near.

  “Stay put,” Cyrus whispers before moving to the edge of one of the buildings to peer around the corner.

  I’m supposed to be on sentry duty, too so I creep over to another building. A group of four men pass by about fifty yards away, oblivious to our presence. I slink behind the building, my heart racing before taking another look. They’re stomping along, talking over each other, passing around a bottle of something.

  All four are armed with wicked looking weapons — long guns, like rifles, but with two barrels, one above the other. They’re made of some sort of black metal with scopes and molded hand grips.

  The men are loud enough I can easily make out what they’re saying. “…and then, boom! No more Unis. It’s going to be historic. Future generations will study us.”

  “The plan’s not to destroy the Union, we’re just gonna take down the government, you moron.”

  “But those weapons, they’re huge. Those are gonna do some serious damage.”

  “You’re both idiots. This isn’t about us killing as many Unis as possible. It’s about taking back our country. Getting back to the good ol’ U. S. of A.”

  “Whatever. I’ve got a weapon, and I plan on taking as many of them lazy commie bastards as I can.”

  Whooping and hand slapping follows before fading away as they move out of range. Icy fingers twist in my gut, and I slump to the ground. Cyrus finds me and his eyes tell me he heard the same thing I did.

  “Do you know what that was about?” I whisper.

  He shakes his head and takes my hand, pulling me up and leading me back to our spot in front of the tents.

  “They were kidding, right? I mean, they’re drunk.”

  “I don’t know. Yeah, they’re drunk, but—”

  “But they have wicked looking weapons,” I finish. “Have you seen anything like those before?”

  “No.”

  My hands shake as I replay the conversation, but there’s also a surrealness to all of this, as if what I saw was all a dream. We spend the rest of our shift in silence before waking up Marcus and Sonia to take over.

  Cyrus briefly explains what we overheard so they’re aware of what to watch for.

  “That’s some messed up shit,” Marcus says. “Should we move camp?”

  Cyrus narrows his eyes and glances around before shaking his head. “We’re probably safer staying put. We can reevaluate in the morning.”

  We crawl into the tent, and Cyrus wraps me in his arms, pressing his lips to my forehead. “Whatever that was, we’ll figure it out.”

  I’m exhausted from the day’s activities, so even though I’m keyed up, my eyelids soon become heavy. When Marcus wakes us, it feels as if I’ve slept only minutes, but the sky is already dawning with a hint of color from the sun’s first rays.

  30

  Figuring It Out

  “How’d it go after we went to bed?” Cyrus asks over breakfast.

  “Good. Nice and quiet,” Marcus responds.

  “Who do you think those guys were?” I ask Cyrus.

  He blows out a breath. “I don’t know. They could’ve been scavengers from the city.”

  “But where’d they get those guns?”

  He shakes his head. “I don’t know.”

  I ask a dozen more questions trying to kick-start a discussion, but they all end the same. No one knows anything and they can’t even guess. They’re clueless and they’ve lived here forever. How am I supposed to figure this out as a recent transplant?

  Cyrus takes my hand to shut me up or to calm me down, not sure which. “We don’t know any more than you. We’ll ask around at the trading post. Find out what Dag knows.”

  “So, we’re not going to do anything?”

  “No one is suggesting that, Ev. But until we figure out what we’re dealing with, there’s not much we can do.”

  My insides feel like they’re fighting to get out, and I hop on the balls of my feet while I wait for them to finish eating. Maybe I don’t know what those guys are up to, but I can at least do what we came here for — convince myself that faking my death is the only way.

  When they’re finally done, we head out. We don’t walk far before coming upon the devastated remains of … something … stretching out in front of us. The damage is so complete I would’ve never been able to guess what used to be here. Charred rubble becomes larger and closer together as we approach a blackened crater surrounded by huge chunks of concrete. Steel rebar pokes up like broken bones. The crumbling towers marching away from the abyss are the only indication this was once a power plant.

  I make my way to the edge and peer down at the utter devastation, wondering what type of weapon could result in this much damage. This happened fifty or even seventy-five years ago, but the murder
of Will and Ben’s parents was recent. The atrocities aren’t ancient history. A piece of me, one I don’t want to acknowledge, understands the anger that leads to talk about attacking the Union.

  With careful steps, I pick my way across rocks toward the towers. I’m not sure what I expect to find, but I move closer, trying to immerse myself in the destruction, be a part of it. My foot catches on something, sending me stumbling forward where I come face to face with a cord snaking out of a hatch nearly hidden in the rubble. The thick, heavy wire trails across the ground before connecting to several large solar panels concealed in the ruins.

  The hair on the back of my neck stands on end. Sonia told me how much these cost out here. I can’t imagine any good reason they’d be here. Based on the efforts taken to conceal them, I doubt they’ll be happy to find out I stumbled onto them.

  Turning back, my heart pounds as I rush to rejoin my friends, holding a finger to my lips.

  “What’s wrong?” Cyrus asks.

  “Let’s go.”

  I take off at a run, anxious to put as much distance as possible between us and that underground bunker. The others catch up to me, Cyrus glancing over his shoulder, likely trying to figure out what spooked me.

  When we’re far enough away for my comfort, I slow.

  “Ev, what’s going on?” Cyrus asks.

  I tell them about the solar panels and cord. “The power plant is close enough to where we camped last night, that those guys could’ve been heading there. Maybe it’s some sort of base camp for their revolution.”

  “Maybe,” Cyrus says, scratching an eyebrow with his thumbnail.

  “This is bigger than I thought, then, this is real. I have to go back.”

  “Go back where?” Marcus asks.

  “To the power nt. If it’s their headquarters, we need to find out what they’re planning. I have to warn the Union.”

  Cyrus grabs my arm. “What? Hold on. Let’s talk this through.”

  I jerk free. “My family is there.”