There is no more need for tears. They’re not dead and I’ve found them. All I have to do is get to my friends. They’re here, in Indianapolis. I’ve done it!
I step outside and look in both directions. I’m not sure what I expected, but they aren’t wandering around the streets like I’d wished they were.
The voices grow louder.
I stop.
Two female voices are speaking together.
It’s not them.
Chapter 14
I slip back into the building and press myself against the wall, angling my body so I can see out the dirty window. A few moments later a group of four walk calmly past.
Two females and two males. I can only see their faces in profile when they talk or look around. They’re a lot older than me. These four aren’t teenagers, more my parents’ ages. They would have known the world before the meteorite hit.
I want to go after them and ask all the questions I never got to ask my parents. I want to know how they’ve managed to survive for so long and how they hid during the strike. But recent experience with others outside our group has taught me one very important lesson—everyone is dangerous.
They may look friendly but they have survived this long. Which means they are willing to do whatever it takes, including eliminating anyone that may pose a threat.
I try to imagine I’m invisible so they don’t find me here. I manage to slow my breathing so I’m not making so much noise. They probably can’t hear my heart beating so erratically but I don’t want to take any chances.
They chatter about getting some food and going hunting on the outskirts of town. If they hunt animals, they could easily hunt a human. They must have weapons or they wouldn’t sound so confident about catching something to eat.
Their clothes are relatively clean and their skin is healthy. Whatever they are doing to survive, they’re doing a good job of it. I wanted that life for my group, my friends. I guess they’ll never get a chance to now.
The thought of forever being alone is enough to make me consider going after the foursome. Perhaps they won’t kill me on sight. Maybe they’ll listen to my story and take me in a like a stray little kitten.
But probably not.
There is no reason they would take me into their fold. I’m not a good fighter, I’m not especially good at finding supplies. I’m useless in this world outside the bunker and there is nothing I can do to convince them otherwise.
I have to stay out of their sight. There has already been enough death today and I don’t want to add myself to the tally. All I have to do is stay here and be quiet. Then I can slip away and nobody will ever have known I was here.
I stand here for much longer than I need to. I’m as still as a statue and refuse to move one inch while those people could still be out there. They said they would find some food outside the city but they were headed in the wrong direction. Unless I’m completely turned around, they were heading further into the city.
Garlind would know what to do right now. He would whisper in my ear that everything will be all right and that we only have to wait a bit longer. He was always so sure of himself, always had the right answers in any situation. I miss him so terribly much.
My parents used to tell me stories when the days inside the bunker seemed long and never ending. They would tell me tales about brave princesses and the knights who stole their hearts.
My favorite was always the one about the princess who had to protect her castle against the enemy. She put on a suit of armor and stood at the front of the battlefield with her army. She wasn’t going to put their lives in jeopardy if she wasn’t prepared to do the same.
I have no idea why that story is in the forefront of my mind right now but I can’t get rid of it. If only I could summon the same kind of courage the princess had to face down her enemy.
I have no armor, I have no army.
I do have enemies.
There is also something—or someone—I can fight for. If I don’t let Garlind be dead, then maybe by some sheer force of will he will be still alive somewhere in this world. For this belief, I will find the courage.
I poke my head outside and search everywhere for the group of adults. I can’t see or hear them. That doesn’t mean they are not around, but the chances are good. If they didn’t suspect I am here, they would have no reason to stick around.
Unless their home is near.
If I get hung up on all the possibilities, I’m never going to move again. I have to keep going or there will be nowhere left for me to hide.
One foot hits the sidewalk. Then another. I’m outside again and it seems I’m alone. The wind blows some dead leaves along the ground. The vine nearest me is slowly dying with most of its leaves ready to fall off.
I want to do something so my friends know that I was here and this is the path I travelled. Just in case. I would hate for them to travel by here and not know they are close on my trail. It’s such a long shot that it’s laughable, but I want to do something. Isn’t that what Garlind would do for me? He would know to leave me some breadcrumbs so I could follow them straight to him.
Whatever Garlind would do, that’s what I have to do now. I have to think like him or I’m never going to survive out here alone.
I can do this.
My gaze scans my surroundings, looking for something I can use to leave my message. What will they recognize? If I were Clare or Garlind, how would I know it was a message from Maisy? I really wish I was better at this.
All I can think to do is scrawl a message on the side of the building. It’s not exactly covert or a code but it will be effective if any of them happen to walk by this way. I haven’t veered off the main road so their journey must go through here too if they are still going to Charleston.
If they’re looking for me, even better.
I make a paste out of mud and choose a wall that is protected from the weather by a large balcony. In big letters, I scrawl:
Garlind, keep going. Maisy.
Four words that have to sum up every little thing I want to say to him right now. It’s not nearly enough but it will be clear that I’ve been through here and are still going to our intended destination. It’s simple enough for Clare and River to understand too. Surely there can’t be many Garlinds or Maisys left in this world.
I take one more look at the message and feel the urge to add the rest of the things I want to say to him. But I can’t. There is only so much mud and time, even less chance that he’ll actually see any of it.
There is no more time to linger in Indianapolis. The people could return at any time and I’m starting to lose daylight. I need to make my way out of town before it’s too dark or I’ll be forced to stay here overnight. There is far less chance of coming across people in the middle of nowhere.
My stomach grumbles and makes its hunger known. I can’t remember the last time I ate. I still have some animal crackers in my backpack which I munch on while I walk. It’s not enough to curb the hunger pangs but it is enough to quieten it down.
All my senses stay on high alert, even as the city is left behind. The sun has already started going down. It’s sitting on the horizon like a fat egg and growing smaller and smaller by the minute. I can’t walk with my flashlight all night, the batteries will barely last a few hours.
I have to stop for the night when I can no longer see anything. If I fall over and break my leg, nobody will ever find me out here. It’s definitely a better idea to stop and rest.
Leaving the main road, I find a ditch and lie down. The ground still holds some warmth from the day which is nice—like a cocoon around me. If only it would keep me as safe as one too.
The dark blue sky is teeming with twinkling stars. There are only a few wispy clouds floating around. Garlind told me those ones can’t contain any rain. They are too light or something. I’ll be safe enough from the acid rain tonight.
Hopefully.
I wonder if Garlind is looking up at the same stars tonight.
Is he close by? Thinking of the alternative makes a lump form in my throat. He can’t be gone. None of them can be. They all have to be out there somewhere, searching for me like I am them.
Movement high above catches my eye. At first, I think it’s another star but it’s not twinkling. The light this thing carries is blinking. And it’s not staying in one place, but moving purposefully through the sky—so far above that it makes me think of one thing.
A ship.
If I squint, I can see it a little better. Its movements are so smooth and steady. The speed is constant and it never diverts its course. It couldn’t be a comet or meteorite, they wouldn’t be moving across the sky like this. It’s unlike anything I’ve read about. Which means it has to be something that didn’t exist back in the world before all the books stopped being written.
It has to be a ship. It’s moving just like the one from the other day when I saw it with Garlind. We weren’t sure then but I am now. It’s heading toward the shoreline, just like that other one was. Garlind was right. He knew we had to get to the coast.
I have no idea how we will be able to signal one once we’re there. They are so high up. We will look even smaller than ants to them from all the way up in the sky.
But Garlind was confident we would succeed and he was right about their existence so he has to be right about this too. Maybe they search the ground for survivors? Perhaps it’s one person’s job on the ship to sit there with a massive set of binoculars and spot humans in need of rescuing on earth. Anything is possible, I guess.
But I’m not going to be able to signal anyone tonight and they certainly won’t be able to spot me lying here in a ditch, in the dark. My eyes close as they grow heavy. Seeing the ship has renewed my spark of hope. Tomorrow will be a better day. I’ll make it all the way to Charleston and find my friends along the way.
That’s the way it has to be.
There is no other option.
A bright ray of light wakes me in the morning. At first, I’m disorientated. I wonder where Garlind is, I’m so used to him sleeping beside me. All the horrible memories flood back in and I want to return to sleep.
The daylight has exposed me to anyone that might stumble across this part of the road. Along with the knowledge that my friends are missing, I also remember the ship I saw in the sky. It’s enough to get me to my feet and start walking for the day.
I really wish the landscape would change in some way. It’s nothing but trees and grass, alternating between the occasional house or gas station. The road stretches on forever and it feels like that’s how long I will be walking for.
At the next town, I leave the same message for Garlind on the billboard announcing the town name. I write it as high and as large as I can reach. If he comes this way, he’s not going to be able to miss it. The message will hit him in the face and let him know I’m still alive and hoping to see him soon.
The days all merge into one after that. I walk and I leave messages. I’m constantly looking skyward for more ships but I don’t see any more. I have to hold onto that little flicker of hope and keep it protected.
I will get to the ships.
I will see the beach.
My toes will feel the soft sand between them.
I will find Garlind.
I will survive.
I will keep going.
These words become my mantra as the days repeat in an endless loop. I lose track of the town names and the state borders I cross. I’m grateful Garlind explained the way to me once, just in case we got separated. I thought it was a waste of time when he did it, but I listened anyway.
Garlind was always prepared for any outcome. He showed me so many things in the time I was with him. I never thought I would step outside the bunker but he held my hand and showed me the world.
I will find Garlind.
I will keep going.
If I keep putting one foot in front of the other, I will get closer to achieving my goals. My father used to tell me anything was possible and I never really believed him. I was stuck inside a box of steel with a world that I thought was dead outside.
Garlind made me think my father may have been right after all. I’m not going to let them both down by giving up. If I just keep going then anything is possible. It has to be.
I enter another city. This one is called Lexington, Kentucky. I have no idea if it was a famous one or what it was known for. All I can see is a sprawling expanse of concrete and all the potential hiding places for people that might hurt me.
The first building I come across is the one I leave my message on. I hope it doesn’t rain and wash it away. I’ll leave another one in a more protected area before I leave. At least I’m never going to run out of mud to use as a pencil. I always use a stick to write with so any traces of the burning rain doesn’t touch my skin.
I walk down the streets and check all the usual buildings for supplies—drug stores, grocery stores, even clothing boutiques. There is little left in any of them and what still remains has been ruined by time.
I’m sure my version of shopping is far different from the shopping they did back before the meteorite hit. For a start, I have no money. Secondly, I steal everything I can find.
The best-preserved store is inside a mall. I guess it’s for pregnant ladies as all the clothes have enlarged spaces for a growing belly. Many of the clothes are still on the racks but decaying from being so old. Moths seem to have made a home in many of them.
I find a large jacket that is way too big for me but will be warm in the night time. I think I can wash off the mold spots. I shove it into my backpack for later.
A dress falls off a rack behind me, making me jump and spin around. I’ve strayed too far from the entrance to make a quick getaway. It’s been so quiet that I’ve let my guard down too.
Stupid, stupid me.
My heart leaps out of my chest from the fright. Especially when I’m face to face with another human.
Chapter 15
She stares at me.
The little girl has to be about ten, maybe. I’m not a good judge of age when I haven’t known any other children. All I can go off is how big I was at that age.
My gaze scans over her, automatically checking for weapons. She’s got a backpack perched low on her back—too big for her size, really. Her sneakers are tattered and also too big for her little size. Her pink sweater and pink tracksuit pants look dirty as they cling to her skinny frame.
She doesn’t look dangerous, but I can’t really tell. Anybody in the outside could be dangerous to me. I’m not nearly as world-wise as they are.
“What do you want?” I ask, trying to sound menacing. I hate the thought of scaring this little child but I have to be smart. Garlind would show his strength in this situation. I know he would.
She looks up at me through thick eyelashes. Her eyes are too big for her head. Is everything oversized on this girl?
“What’s your name?” she asks.
I’m put off by the question. I also notice she didn’t answer mine. I’ll play along for now, but I also edge closer to the door just in case I have to make a run for it. “I’m Maisy. Who are you?”
“Sarah.”
“What are you doing here?”
She shrugs her bony shoulders. “Just looking around, I guess. There isn’t much to do here.”
“Are you alone?” It suddenly occurs to me that she could just be the bait for a much larger, older group. Send in the little girl, nobody will suspect her of anything. I take a few more steps toward the door, never taking my eyes off her.
She nods but doesn’t say anything. Those blue eyes, they are so big—and sad now too.
“Why aren’t you with anyone?”
“They all left.”
“Where’d they go?”
She points upward. At first, I think there must be a second floor to the mall but then I realize she’s referring to the sky. As in Heaven.
My resolve to stay mean fades a little. “They all died?�
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“A while ago.”
“I’m sorry. Have you been looking after yourself since then? There hasn’t been anyone else you’ve stayed with?” I know I’m asking her a million questions but they all need answering. They will all help to decide how fast I have to flee when it’s time for me to get the hell out of here.
“It’s just been me. I haven’t seen anyone else until I saw you,” she replies, unflinchingly meeting my gaze. “What happened to your mommy and daddy?”
“They died too. I had some friends but they’re missing at the moment. I’m not sure where they are. Have you been living here all this time?”
“Sometimes I go outside and find food too.”
“Is there a store nearby where you’ve been finding the food?”
She shakes her head with a sly little smile. “I catch food and then I cook it. Then I eat it. My daddy taught me how. Before he had to go.”
I’m not sure if that is the creepiest thing she could have said, or the best news I could hear. I can barely stand running away from one of those mutant animals outside, let along hunting them to eat. Even Garlind doesn’t hunt. He prefers to eat berries or wildflowers.
I give her a smile and hope she doesn’t have a taste for human meat too. “That’s great that you’ve been surviving all by yourself. You’re a smart little kid.”
“I’m not a little kid. I’m eight.”
Two years earlier than I thought, I guess that could explain her diminutive size. “You’re right, eight isn’t little. Sorry I called you that.”
“How old are you?”
“Seventeen.”
She giggles. “That’s really old.”
I can’t help but laugh too. Maybe seventeen is old for this new world. I’ve done well to survive this long. “It is old. But at least I’m not short, like you are.”
Sarah pouts and puts her hands on her hips. “I’m growing taller every day. I have a chart on the wall in the shoe store. Wanna see it?”
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