After The End

by Jamie Campbell

  I struggle against him. With everything I have, I fight back. To get to Garlind. To save his life. To stop the fight.

  To say goodbye.

  “Please, no,” I sob. My vision is clouding with tears that run hot down my cheeks.

  I can’t watch but I have to. I can’t let Garlind go through this alone. I can’t have his final moments in this world belong to these savages.

  This can’t be happening.

  It just can’t be.

  I wish it was a nightmare I could wake from. Garlind doesn’t deserve this. Out of everyone in this godforsaken world, he deserves it the least. He was only trying to help. He was trying to save that man’s life yesterday and now he’s suffering the exact same fate.

  I hate these monsters.

  Everything happens in slow motion.

  Blair’s leg recoils.

  He bites his bottom lip.

  He steps forward.

  He swings.

  Chapter 6

  “Intruders!” The female voice cuts through my horror. She continues to scream it over and over again. “Intruders! Intruders! They are at the fence!”

  It takes me a moment to realise the voice belongs to Clare. She’s by the door again, shrieking like a banshee.

  The slow motion stops as everyone moves. Even Blair. They run for the exits and squeeze through so they spill out on the other side. Garlind is trampled as he’s stepped over several times.

  Very quickly, the only people left in the community area are Clare, Garlind, and me.

  She did it.

  She saved him.

  I just hope she did it in time.

  Without my bodyguard, I can move again. I rush for the ring and kneel down beside Garlind. He’s still unconscious but he’s breathing. Blood trickles from a split in his lip and bruises are already blooming on his face.

  But he’s alive.

  “Garlind, wake up. Wake up!” I gently slap his face, trying to rouse him. He doesn’t respond.

  Clare looms over us. “You only have a couple of minutes before they realize there are no intruders. You need to go. Now!”

  “I can’t move him. He’s too heavy.”

  She reaches down and grabs him under the shoulder. I do the same with the opposite side and heave as hard as I can. Maybe it’s the adrenalin coursing through my blood, but we somehow manage to get him on his feet.

  Garlind is a dead weight between us. I hold his arm around my shoulders and bear as much of his body weight as I can. Clare does the same with a grunt as we reposition him.

  We’re slow at first but soon speed up as the very real possibility of being caught looms close.

  “This way,” Clare says.

  She leads me to the closest gate. There are several people inspecting it, searching for the intruders that don’t exist. We duck behind a wooden shed and watch, waiting.

  The group move on after inspecting the outside area. They secure the gate and keep going. Clearly the intruders aren’t here. Or so they think.

  Clare rushes out and reopens the gate. She returns to help me with Garlind. Together, we drag him outside into the world beyond the Precinct. I’ve never been happier to leave somewhere I thought was safe.

  She comes to a stop ten feet into the forest outside. “I can’t go any further. I need to get back before someone notices I’m missing.”

  “Come with us,” I urge. Not only to help me carry Garlind but because I miss her. I thought she was dead and now I know she’s not, I want her to travel with us again. She was the first female friend I’ve ever had. Saying goodbye to her now seems wrong. Especially when I’ve experienced firsthand what her community does to people.

  Clare shakes her head as she unhooks Garlind’s arm from around her shoulder. “I can’t. This is my home now. It’s not perfect but I’m happy here. You’ll be okay if you keep going in a straight line. This copse of trees eventually leads back to the highway. You can continue on to Pennsylvania.”

  “I don’t like leaving you here. You could be happy with us too.”

  “I’m sorry, Maisy. I can’t.” She takes a step backwards. “I’ll try to keep them off your trail for as long as I can. Be safe. And good luck with…everything.”

  I want to give her a hug and beg her to change her mind. But we need to go and I know it won’t do any good. Clare has been through something horrifying. It’s not my place to judge her choices. I can’t put myself in her shoes.

  With fresh tears in my eyes, I nod and let her go.

  It takes a lot of self-control not to call out after her. I get the feeling this time it really is goodbye. That I will never see her again. At least I know she’s alive.

  Now, Garlind’s life is in my hands.

  I move far slower without Clare’s help. His unconscious body leans against me as I push through the pain of the strain and half-drag Garlind along. His height doesn’t help me in any way. His feet leave a trail behind us but there is nothing I can do about that. There is no way I can lift him completely like he can me.

  Clare said to go in a straight line so that’s what I focus on. Just one more step, I tell myself. If I can make it one more step, then another, and then another, I’ll get there eventually. I’ll get us to safety with just one more step.

  I grit my teeth together as my muscles ache. A painful stabbing stitch cuts my belly in two. But stopping can make the difference between surviving and dying today.

  Just one more step.

  Those four words play over and over again in my mind. Our safety depends on me for a change. I have to give Garlind the help he’s shown me since the first day I met him.

  Just one more step.

  My breathing becomes ragged as I run out of energy. I can barely walk after I’ve travelled about a mile. It feels like ten. Definitely not far enough to guarantee our safety.

  The people in the Precinct might listen to Clare for only so long before they put two and two together. Hopefully she will come up with enough plausible lies to get herself out of trouble. If Buddy listened to her when we showed up, he might give her the benefit of the doubt now.

  I try to put her out of my mind and focus on speeding up. Unfortunately, I only seem to be able to slow down even further. Still, I don’t stop.

  I keep going.

  A little further and Garlind moans. His head lolls to one side with the noise but he doesn’t wake up. I know from reading the First Aid book in the bunker from cover to cover that it’s a bad sign. He could have swelling on the brain that might end up being fatal. He could have some kind of brain damage so even if he does survive, he won’t be the same Garlind he was before.

  A hundred more scenarios play out in my mind. None of them end with Garlind waking up and everything being okay again. He’s suffered some serious damage at the hands of Blair. He’s damaged him enough to lose all consciousness and he’s been out for a long time now.

  I try not to think about the future. Today. I can focus on today and right now. I need to get us to safety so we can find a place to hide. The people from the Precinct won’t look forever. If I can keep us hidden until they give up, then I can wait for Garlind to wake up.

  We can rest.

  Resting sounds like heaven right now. My whole body hurts as the adrenalin starts to peter out. My back and legs burn with the struggling of rushing while holding a weight that is heavier than I am.

  I focus on a spot in the distance and get bolstered when it gets closer. It’s a massive tree, one bigger than those around it. It grows larger with every step I take.

  Just one more step.

  I finally reach it.

  It’s not a good hiding place but I need to rest for a moment. I lower Garlind to the ground so he’s leaning against the vast trunk of the tree and take a few deep breaths.

  My back burns with pain as I slump next to him. His chin is covered in blood that has lost its bright red sheen and is now darker and dried. I use the sleeve of my shirt to wipe it off. I can’t stand to see him in such
a bad way.

  More than anything, I want him to wake up so I know he’ll be okay. But I know a person can die from one blow to the head and Blair got several in.

  That whole fight was so senseless. It didn’t need to happen. They could have dismissed Garlind as a newcomer, someone that didn’t understand the rules of the Precinct. Instead, they chose to make an example out of him. They chose violence instead of doing the right thing.

  I have a whole lot of fear for Clare’s future. I hope she is never challenged into the ring. I hope she can stay alive while creating a stable life for herself there.

  If hopes were dollars, I’d be rich. I also wouldn’t have anything to spend that money on. So I guess it’s a moot point.

  We rest by the tree for as long as I dare. Just long enough for my breath to settle down and my heart to slow its pace. Garlind still doesn’t stir.

  Getting him back up again strains every inch of my body. I have to tug on his arms a few times before I can get enough momentum for him to move. I drape his shoulder over mine and pull him to the side so I can walk while holding his weight.

  It’s slower going than before. I might have caught my breath but I haven’t restored my energy. My mouth is as dry as a desert and my muscles ache from the strain.

  I repeat my mantra again: Just one more step.

  I don’t know how long it takes me to reach the highway but it’s getting dark when I do. Thankfully, nobody has found us yet. Clare must have told some very convincing lies to hold them back. Otherwise I have no doubt there would be dozens of people from the Precinct surrounding us.

  The highway has a line of cars sitting abandoned in all lanes. Whoever was trying to escape the built-up areas either gave up on their vehicles or they died before they could get anywhere.

  Most of the vehicles are sedans or SUVs. I choose one of the two vans and leave Garlind leaning against a wheel so I can check all the doors.

  The driver’s side door is unlocked. Must be my lucky day.

  I climb inside and am relieved to find no traces of the vehicle’s original owner. Nobody died in this van so it’s just as it was left all those years ago.

  Shimmying through the front seats to the back, there are a bundle of tools against one side of the open space and a moldy piece of carpet on the floor. I pop the door open and swing it outwards.

  It will do for one night. I can’t keep walking while Garlind is unconscious and I should be able to lock the doors which will somewhat protect us from any stray members of the Precinct if they do happen to catch up with us.

  I roll up the loose piece of moldy carpet and leave it between two other vehicles so it’s not so conspicuous. Hopefully if anyone comes through, they won’t think to look twice at the van we’re seeking refuge in.

  It takes me a while to get Garlind inside the van. I get him perched on the back edge and then have to hold him still while I move to get behind him. From there, I can manage to pull him further inside and lie him down.

  The First Aid book said to lie someone unconscious on their side. So I get him into position. He takes up one whole side of the van’s back area. He doesn’t look very comfortable but it will have to do.

  With him settled, I know I have to find some food and water to get us through the night. I’m absolutely parched and starving. They didn’t give me breakfast at the Precinct before marching me into the community area.

  In amongst the tools in the back of the van, I find a few containers that might do for collecting water. They will need to be washed first, but hopefully nothing poisonous was originally kept in them.

  As much as I just want to sit down and never get up again, I know I don’t have that luxury. I lock all doors of the van except the passenger’s side and have a look at our surroundings with new eyes.

  The highway is a long stretch in both directions. No houses or buildings of any kind can be seen anywhere. It’s pointless checking any of the cars for food or water—they would have spoiled years ago.

  I cross the road and venture into the woodland on the opposite side to where we came in. The quickly darkening sky doesn’t make my search any easier.

  The trill of birds fill the silence until it is all I can hear. It’s somewhat comforting. At least I’m not entirely alone out here. Plus…if there’s birds, there might be a water source. They have to drink too, right?

  The last thing I need is to get lost as I pay particular attention to my path and commit little reminders to memory. A weird shaped rock here, a knotty tree there, they all help me to remember my way back.

  Through the birds, I finally hear what I need. Water trickles from somewhere. I follow the noise carefully, knowing I have such limited time before it will be too dark to see a damn thing.

  The air grows moist just before I find the creek. It’s only small but it’s moving. I’m so thirsty, I want to dunk myself in the water and never come out. For the first time ever, I place my hand in the stream. I wait for the acid to burn my skin but it doesn’t. I pull my hand out and tentatively lick the water from my fingers. It tastes pure and clean.

  Maybe this water hasn’t been contaminated by the radiation? I don’t have time to work out all the reasons why this could be so. I’ll take the miracle and thank my lucky stars.

  I open the bottles I found in the van and wash them in the stream. They smell okay. Maybe a little musty but that’s to be expected from everything these days.

  Satisfied they are clean, I fill them both with water and seal the lids tightly. Next, I cup my water under the flowing water and collect some in the palms of my hands. I greedily gulp it down until my mouth is finally sated.

  Finding something to eat in the almost-darkness is going to be impossible. As long as I have water, I can probably the survive the night and then look at first light.

  I head back using my landmarks and find the van exactly as I left it. Garlind too. I roll him over onto his back and prop him up on my legs. Trickling the water into his mouth doesn’t stir him. But it also doesn’t make him choke so I consider it a win.

  “Come on, Garlind. You have to wake up. I can’t be on my own and you deserve better. Don’t let them win,” I tell him. I doubt he can hear me, but it doesn’t hurt to try.

  I lay him back down again and open his shirt, searching for any wounds that need attention. His torso is scattered with purple bruises. He probably has a few broken ribs too. Nothing is bleeding so at least no skin was broken except for his lip. That particular wound looks nasty but it probably doesn’t need stitches.

  There is nothing more I can do for him tonight. I settle down on the hard metal floor next to him so our bodies can preserve the warmth. It’s going to be a long night.

  What little sleep I get only reminds me of all the sleep I miss out on. I toss and turn all night, spending hours worrying about Garlind and listening for even the slightest hint of him waking up. He moans a few times but never regains consciousness.

  In the morning, I’m tired, hungry, and scared. Garlind is still breathing so that’s a blessing. Hopefully he’s using this time to heal and rest so he can wake up and be okay.

  I climb out of the van and go searching for food. I need a metropolitan area so I can look for real food—something actually made for human consumption. The best I’m going to get out here are edible leaves and perhaps some berries. I choose a random part of the forest and head inside.

  I’m out of luck with berries. The most I can gather are some leaves from a tree that I know won’t kill me. I can’t say as much about the taste.

  With my stash of barely-edible finds, I return to the van and eat slowly. It’s nice to be able to wash the taste out of my mouth with the fresh water. I’ll be able to find the stream again when I’m ready for a refill.

  I prop up Garlind again and trickle water into his mouth. He coughs.

  His eyes blink open. Slowly, at first. His left eye is swollen but I can still make out his beautiful brown irises as they look up at me. It takes him a few moments to regis
ter who I am.

  “Maisy Rayne,” he whispers underneath his breath. I don’t think my name has ever sounded so beautiful before.

  “Don’t strain yourself,” I admonish. “You’ve been hurt but you’re safe now. I got us out with Clare’s help. They can’t hurt you again.”

  He stares into space without his eyes focusing on anything. I just hold him and hope that’s enough for him to realize he’s safe here with me. All those horrible people are gone, he doesn’t need to worry about them.

  I push all thoughts of brain damage and swelling to the side. He’s awake, that’s all I can hope for right now. I’ll celebrate the win and pray he’ll still be the same boy he was before.

  “There was a fight,” he finally says with a croaky voice.

  “Yes, there was. But you’re okay. Do you need some more water?”

  He nods and I hold up the bottle to his lips. He sips greedily from it until there is only a splash left. I’ll get more for him. I’ll return to that stream with all the birds as many times as I have to if it means he’ll be okay.

  He tries to sit up further but I gently push him down again. “There’s no need to hurry. Just rest for a while and then you can move.”

  He nods again, as if speaking is too difficult right now. I offer him a smile but I doubt he’s comforted by it. With all the bruises blooming over his body, I expect he’s in a lot of pain right now. If I hadn’t had my bag stolen, I would be able to help ease his aches with some pain killers.

  “There are some leaves if you’re hungry. They don’t taste very good but they’ll stop your stomach hurting for a while,” I say, pointing out the green leaves.

  “Tired.”

  “Sleep for as long as you need to. We’re okay to rest here for a while.”

  He settles back down and closes his eyes. His breathing is rhythmic in no time as he falls back asleep. It’s the best thing for him right now. He needs to let his body—especially his head—heal so he can start to make a recovery.

  I watch over him all day. Every few hours, if there’s no change, I venture out to find some food and refill our water bottles. By the end of the day, I’ve searched all the cars in a one mile radius and scoured the forest. Just past the stream is a bush that I’ve stripped of sour berries.