Kimber

by L K Hingey

  “I already had a few, so you finish them, and then let’s hit the road.” She picked the can of peaches up and handed them to him. He gladly accepted and put the can up to his lips drinking in the natural sweetness. Kimber busied herself by packing everything neatly into the bag, including one of the spent water bottles. She knew weight was an important factor to keep in mind, but so were hydration and safety supplies.

  When they were ready to go, Tristan did something that Kimber did not expect. He walked over quickly to one of the desks and searched around for a pencil. He tossed aside pens and markers, knowing they would be long dried up, and finally found what he was looking for. He came back to where Kimber was standing near the door and scribbled Tristan/ Kimber: Day One on the front face of the door. With a slightly sheepish look, he quietly said, “Just in case.” Kimber nodded and slung the bag over her shoulder.

  “My day to carry the pack, thank you very much,” Tristan said extending his hand out. He swung the bag easily over his wide shoulders and walked out onto the small road that lay between them and the highway. Kimber shut the door behind her and jogged towards Tristan, already feeling more comfortable from not carrying the bag. It would be a long day of traveling, and as they climbed back onto the highway, they scanned for signs of impending weather.

  The horizons looked clear and as brazenly bright as always, and so began their first full day of northbound work. The path was arduous, but their pace remained constant. They did their best to focus on one step, one leap, and one switchback at a time. Sometimes, the road was in decent condition, while other times, it was cracked too wide to even jump across. They tried on and off to carry on conversation but found their concentration was best applied to what was going on underfoot.

  They had been running for about two hours when the small town of Bonnieville appeared on the horizon. Tristan called to Kimber to take a break. “Want to have lunch here and then push on? We could save time by skipping re-supplying here, and then we can take the run a little slower later, if we need to,” he said after they had slowed down. “That way, we can conserve some of our strength for tomorrow.” Tristan could tell Kimber was antsy as she gazed north.

  If she was restless though, she was trying her best not to reveal it. She simply said, “Smart idea. Want a sip of water?”

  “Yeah, please, and let’s break out the jerky. We’ll be up in Sonora by sundown and we have plenty to get us there,” Tristan said as they looked for a good area to sit. The concrete here had been wrenched upwards away from the land, and they chose a spot where they could dangle their tired legs, as if they were sitting on a cliff.

  “Carrying the bag does make running a little harder,” he said staring off into the red brown wasteland to the west. “You’re kind of amazing for not even mentioning it.”

  His frankness still caught Kimber off guard. She blushed and tried to brush it aside. “Doesn’t do much good to complain does it?”

  “No, but that doesn’t stop most people,” Tristan replied honestly. “Plus, if you let me know when something is hard, I can help you.”

  “For one, it’s going to take something much more difficult than carrying a pack filled with a few supplies to make me ask for help. And two, you volunteered to be here. How much more help can I ask for?”

  “As much as you ever want or need. I’m here because I want to be here, Kimber. I want to be here with you. And what lies ahead-” his voice lowered an octave. “I’m just hoping I’ll be enough help for what lies ahead.”

  Kimber stared thoughtfully out at the windswept fields. There was something menacing about the mission they were on, and even Tristan could feel it. She was about to ask him what he thought about it all, when Tristan’s body jerked abruptly.

  “-Look far out at the horizon. Is it just my imagination or do you see something out there?”

  Kimber strained her eyes towards the west. She squinted past the rocks, the dirt mounds, and the scorched shells of once magnificent trees, to where the Martian-like land met the blinding sky. A small puff of dust seemed to roll itself into focus.

  “Damn it,” she whispered.

  “Let’s get as far as we can, as fast as we can. With any luck, we can make the town before the worst of the storm hits.” Tristan’s voice was tight with apprehension; they both knew how dangerous the storms could get without shelter.

  Although no wind stirred over the land now, they knew that in half a day’s time, a howling dust storm would blanket their path. Neither of them needed more motivation than that to quicken their pace. They set out again, weaving between the heaved chunks of concrete and twisted metal. When they came across large expanses of less damaged road, they sprinted. Tristan signaled to turn onto a smaller highway which sloped gently northwest, and Kimber followed.

  The dust storm, which had started as an almost invisible speck in the distance, was slowly growing on the skyline, driving the pair forward. For another hour, they flew across the pavement, a breeze now stirring under their western wing.

  “That’s the Concord Church I saw on the map. It was probably closed for decades even before the flare, but at least it means we’re almost there!” Tristan yelled back to Kimber as they passed a church out in a field to their left. The dust had already kicked up so much that they could barely make out the cross sitting atop the small building’s spire. Kimber looked over at its hazy silhouette and back up at Tristan, wondering how many more minutes she had until his figure would become just as clouded.

  They continued to fight northward as the wind speed increased. Kimber struggled to remain on a straight path as the gusts tried to push her body toward the train lanes. The airborne sand started to sting her raw eyes and she put an arm over her face to block some of the wind’s ferocity. Their progressed slowed. Now, instead of just focusing on the cracks in front of them, they had to be conscious of the hazards to their left and right. Even Tristan’s body began to be buffeted around by the engulfing storm.

  Kimber knew she needed to keep up with him, because if one of them fell, chances of the other hearing or seeing them would be slim to none. If they lost each other in the storm, there would be no choice but for both of them to hunker down behind whatever barrier they could find and wait out the gales. She pressed forward as hard as she could and drew in close until she found his hand. She tried to yell to him, but her words were swept away.

  Tristan gripped her hand reassuringly, and they forged on. They could still walk, but just barely, and the very real fear of aerial projectiles weighed heavy in their minds. A small break in the wind took them by surprise. Looking over they saw another church. This one was closer to the road and was affording them a small wind block. Tristan tried to speak, but his words, like Kimber’s, tumbled away into the turbulence. He stepped in between her and the wind, pulling her in close to his chest, and yelled again.

  “We made... south side... Upton. This... the... Creekside Church. It’s on... map. Up... road... minimarket. Want... to... make...?”

  The wind chopped Tristan’s words up terribly, but Kimber understood the message. She put his hand on her cheek so he could feel her nod. If Tristan was suggesting they continue, there was probably a good reason. They would need food and water as much as they needed shelter, especially because they did not know how long the windstorm would last. Tristan gripped her hand again and they battled farther up the road.

  Just as Kimber was starting to question their decision to continue, outlines of buildings on either side of the road came into view. Tristan turned away from the road plowing his way towards the first one on their left. There were only a few dozen feet left to go but laboring directly into the wind would have been hard for even Zaak despite his immense strength. Kimber had gotten so much grit in her eyes that she could not see anything as she held onto Tristan, trusting in his sense of direction.

  Finally, they got close enough to the building to feel the protection from the wind. The relief was immediate, and it instantly perked them both up. Tristan
ran to the entrance, but the sliding glass doors were locked in place. In frustration he growled and tried to pry the doors apart. The had both been taught how to pick locks but standing out here, in the near hurricane winds, was not the ideal condition in which to be messing with an uncooperative door.

  Kimber dug into her bag and pulled out the multi-knife. She held it in her hand like a battering ram and knelt by the door. She began to hammer the butt end of the tempered metal into the glass. She struck it in the same spot over and over until tiny spiderlike fractures began to appear. When her hands needed a break, she passed the knife to Tristan. He took it and hit the spot she had started. His strikes were heavier, and the fractures quickly bloomed outward. Encouraged, he struck again, with all his strength. The glass did not shatter- it exploded, leaving a hole in the door and a hundred diamond pebbles scattered underneath. Tristan used the knife to knock more glass away around the hole to make sure Kimber’s body wouldn’t scrape. She was kneeling close by, and he leaned into her to make sure she heard him when he yelled.

  “Be careful on the glass. Stay close to the door when you get in and get the flashlight out. I’ll be right behind you.”

  Kimber nodded and slowly crawled through the jagged hole. Tristan was right; although the glass looked harmless now that was reduced to crystalline pebbles, it was still very sharp. She could feel tiny slices cutting into her soft palms and knees as she crawled. There was enough light spilling in through the windows and the front doors to vaguely see what was inside, but Kimber did what Tristan had advised and pulled out the flashlight and the batteries.

  Tristan crawled in next to her, his wide shoulders catching on the glass. His tough skin broke off most of the glass around the hole where it hit, but in a few spots, it scraped in between his hazel scales. He pulled in next to Kimber and smiled in the low light. Anything was better than being stuck outside in the viciousness of the wind. Kimber smiled back and turned the flashlight on, its yellow beam illuminating the store in front of them.

  The building was not large, but what Kimber and Tristan saw on the few rows of shelves instantly cheered them up. It was true that the store, like all stores they had come across over the years, had been savagely picked over. It was also true that the people of the old world had shared a universal disdain for canned vegetables and canned meat. So, for Kimber and Tristan, this meant that although the vast majority of the food had been cleared out, most of what had been left behind was non-perishable.

  Kimber scanned the flashlight around the softly lit room. There was a tool aisle, a dry foods aisle, a toiletries and medicine aisle, a pet and cleaning supplies aisle, and a candy and snack aisle. Tristan and Kimber wandered throughout the little shop together inventorying the goods and adding items to their dinner menu. Canned brussels sprouts and spam were immediately added to Kimber’s meal lineup, while a pickier Tristan chose bite-sized canned hotdogs along with some pork n’ beans.

  Having beaten the brunt of the storm left the pair high on gratitude and exhaustion. They laughed loudly as they walked around, shedding their worries about the world that continued to rage around them. Tristan grabbed a pack of marshmallows off a shelf with a groan. “See! People didn’t even like these in desperation!” he said ripping the pack open. Without hesitation, he chucked a pillowy mallow at Kimber.

  Kimber dove for one of the other packs that had been laying on the almost empty shelf near Tristan. She snagged it as she tucked herself into a ball and rolled passed Tristan. Doing this in training always made her dizzy, but here in their shared state of giddiness, it did not matter. She ducked behind the end of the aisle and ripped into her bag. Marshmallows started to rain from above and Kimber laughed as she realized Tristan was lobbing them up high in the air over the aisles.

  She peeked out from behind cover to fire a series of sugary bullets towards Tristan, but he had been expecting it, and his aim was true. Plop. A marshmallow hit her square on the forehead. Kimber squeaked in defiant surprise and got out from behind her concealment, awkwardly holding the flashlight while ruthlessly chucking her handfuls at him. Her aim was nowhere as precise and the more she missed, the funnier he found it, and the more his own aim was jeopardized. Eventually, they ran out of ammunition and they tossed aside the empty bags.

  Kimber laughed breathlessly as she called out, “Truce?”

  “Truce. Please truce. I can’t handle any more of your throwing,” he said with his hands on his knees as he wiped away a tear from laughing so hard.

  “Oh, I’m not that bad!” she teased.

  “Not that bad at what? Running, then no, you’re actually quite good. But um, at hand eye coordination...” Tristan trailed off with a grin.

  She chuckled and rolled her eyes. After looking around, she said, “Think we should we pick up after ourselves?”

  Tristan could not help but laugh out loud again. “You just shattered a glass door getting in here, and now you’re concerned about a couple marshmallows on the ground? If you don’t stop, you’re going to give me a stomachache from laughing.”

  Kimber dropped into a sarcastic curtsey and Tristan smiled, shaking his head at her. “Shall we see what other trouble we can cause?” she asked with a smirk.

  Being careful to step over the tiny landmines of sugary fluff, they checked out more areas of the store. In the tool aisle, they found a surprising amount of camping supplies. They grabbed a box of plastic cutlery and a lighter, but the most impressive item was a big lantern. Tristan grabbed it and turned it upside down. “Double AAs,” he read and dug into the bag for the spare flashlight batteries. He popped them into the lantern and turned it on.

  The lantern flooded the entire space, making Kimber wince. Tristan immediately set it down on the floor, apologizing for turning it on so close to eye level. Kimber waved it off with a smile but could not stop blinking in pain. Tristan gently tilted her face up towards his and looked into her eyes. They were bloodshot from how hostile the wind and blowing sand had been. “Follow me,” he said.

  Tristan picked up the lantern and led the way to the medicine aisle. Kimber took the batteries out of her flashlight and placed them into the bag that Tristan was still carrying as he riffled around on the shelves. “Not the most in-demand item at the end of the world apparently,” he said revealing a small bottle of eye drops in his hand. “Tip your head back for me?”

  Kimber followed his instructions. She had put eye drops into her eyes many times, usually after a long night of reading by the low light of a fire bowl, but she had never had anyone else squeeze the droplets into her eyes. Gently, the clear liquid slid out of the bottle onto her eyelashes. She blinked the medicine in, one eye at a time, enjoying the cooling relief. “We can keep this handy until we leave,” Tristan said capping the tiny bottle and putting it into the sack.

  “Any better?” he asked as gently as he had squeezed out the eyedrops.

  “A lot better actually. I forgot how raw they felt.”

  Kimber couldn’t tell if Tristan was searching for redness, or for something else, as he stared down into her electric eyes. His gaze was intense and serious, and Kimber felt the world jolt to a stop, mid-rotation. A smile flashed across his face and Tristan dropped his gaze. “Yeah, you had me worried. But they are looking better already,” he said lightly, picking up the lantern. “Let’s have some dinner and get some sleep. We can see about continuing our looting in the morning?”

  His question was more of a soft request, and Kimber nodded happily. She was hungry, she was tired, and her eyes felt a million times better. They headed to the back of the store to search the janitorial closet and restrooms, but they did not see anything they could use as chairs or bedding. A little disappointed, they walked back into the aisles. Something caught Kimber’s eye as they walked past the pet section, and she doubled back to it.

  “Check this out!” she exclaimed, pulling something from the bottom shelf. Tristan walked over and was immediately delighted over her discovery. “Dog beds!” she said excitedly
as she picked one up. The bottom row had been designated for extra-large dogs, the shelf above that for medium-sized dogs, and above that, piles of small dog and cat beds were stacked. “The cat beds were what caught my eye actually. I thought... pillows! Then I spotted the big beds! There are five of them so we can make a weird mattress,” Kimber said brightly.

  Tristan picked one up. They were incredibly soft. And she was right; they would make an excellent, albeit weird, mattress. “Let’s build a bed behind the counter!” Tristan said excitedly. The pair towed all their belongings to the service desk in the front corner of the store. Tristan indiscriminately shoved everything out and away from underneath the counter and laid two of the large beds out lengthwise. Next to the pair of two, he laid out the other three.

  Kimber came back from grabbing a couple of each of the medium and small beds to offer as pillows. She stacked them high and then toppled them over the counter onto Tristan.

  “Payback for that precision shot,” she grinned at him from over the counter.

  Tristan looked up at her. “What do you think?” he asked about the makeshift bed.

  Honestly, the hot mess of pet-pillows looked more like a nest than a bed, and she was internally teasing him for choosing to sleep behind the shelter of the service counter, but Kimber smiled warmly as she ducked behind the counter. “It looks fit for a king,” she said.

  “Well then, cheers to the king and queen of the surface world!” he declared, enthusiastically taking the canned food out of the satchel and handing her some. Their makeshift fort was cheerful as they ate, savoring every bit of their mushy food. Tristan even tried a bite of spam, much to Kimber’s delight and his disgust. “I may have to be starving to ever try that again,” he chuckled after he had chased the taste with his baked beans.

  They finished up their meals and placed the spent cans on the counter. Tristan reached into the sack and pulled out the water bottle. Only about a quarter of it was left. “We crossed over a creek less than a half a mile back, according to the map. If we need to, we can retrace our steps after the storm and go fill up.” He extended the bottle to Kimber.