Through the Ashes (The Light Book 2)

by Jacqueline Brown

  “You have known the wrong guys,” Jonah said, his voice low and angry.

  I could tell he wanted to say more. I could feel his anger permeate the air between us. Lightning flashed. He turned his head and our eyes met. I realized I was wrong. It wasn’t anger I felt in the air, it was sadness. Deep, true sadness. Thunder roared in the distance and rain pelted the window. I stared in the direction of the sound.

  Fourteen

  I jerked awake and nothing looked familiar. Panic overtook me. I turned wildly and saw him sleeping on the couch beside me. I relaxed, my head finding the chair again, its softness comforting. In front of me, ashes filled the fireplace. I wondered how long the fire had burned … a few hours at most. From the edges of the drapes the faint light of dawn crept into the room.

  I held the recliner handle and pushed the leg rest down as quietly as possible. Jonah did not move. I placed my feet on the floor and stood, going to the window. I peered out the side of the drapes. The rain from the night was gone. Springtime filled this place. The grass was green beneath the mud. Little brown birds called to one another as they swooped low, catching insects. In front of the large window there stood a small bird feeder, its clear plastic sides emptied of whatever seeds it may have once contained. A bright red bird stood on top of the weathered wooden roof, leaning forward to peer into the empty feeder. I wondered if he had come here before, year after year, and been fed by the couple who lived here. Had they stood here watching him? Probably.

  I shifted my gaze from the window when I heard Jonah sit up. His eyes blinked. My lips turned upward at his spikes of brown hair.

  “What?” he said, pulling the blanket from his legs.

  “Nothing. Your hair is just a little messed up,” I said, cocking my head to one side and biting my bottom lip to try and keep from smiling.

  “I’m not the only one,” he said. His mouth turned up slightly on the left side.

  It was one of his expressions I thought was the cutest. I ran my fingers through my hair. He was right.

  “I must’ve moved around a lot in my sleep,” I said, bending to open my pack. I pulled out a brush.

  “You did,” he said, yawning.

  “How do you know?” I asked, gathering my hair into a long braid.

  “You kept me awake. Moving and groaning,” he said, running his fingers through his hair.

  One of the most beautiful things about Jonah was how little he cared about his looks. I thought for a moment of Trent, who used to spend a lot of time making sure his shoes, clothes, and hair were perfect. He always looked good, but in a different way. A polished way. Jonah never looked polished and his comfort with it told me he never had.

  I folded the blanket and returned it to its place on the back of the chair, as East and Sara entered the room. Jonah stood, folding his blanket as he did so.

  “Did you two sleep okay?” Sara asked.

  I was happy by the lack of innuendo in her voice.

  “I did,” I answered. “What about you?”

  She nodded. “But I had bad dreams.”

  “What about?” Jonah asked, joining his sister at the kitchen table.

  “It doesn’t matter. They weren’t real. I’m sure, knowing the people who own this house are dead in the next room is messing with me,” she said, following me to the kitchen.

  “For sure,” I said, knowing that was at least part of what was upsetting me.

  A few minutes later Blaise and Josh joined us. Blaise’s eyes were puffy and I wondered how much she, too, had been thinking of death.

  ***

  We finished all the food and water in the house. Our metabolisms had slowed to use food more efficiently. The result was we ate, at most, twice a day, but more typically once a day. The food we consumed here would easily last us today and much of tomorrow. We carried smoked meat with us, but we hoped to find an animal along the way. We’d save the smoked meat for a time when we had no other option.

  Right after the light I was terrified of starving to death, but now I knew how to hunt and find food. I’d eaten worms and grasshoppers and even roaches and I would eat them again if I had to. Water, though, could at times be harder to come by, and not finding enough remained a fear. We each carried several bottles filled from the well at home, and thanks to the gallons of water we found in the house, our bottles remained full. We would be fine for a few more days. But then we’d have to find more.

  We divided the flour, sugar, and other baking supplies among our packs. We would take them home. The others would be happy to have them and we would be happy to eat whatever they made. Perhaps JP and I could share a piece of apple pie in the fall.

  The house looked as it had when we entered. Each of us did our part to ensure our presence had been wiped away. The exception was the small broken window, which East repaired using a piece of cardboard and some duct tape. She stuck the rest of the duct tape in her bag, and pulled the locked door shut behind us. The air was cool, the sun warm, and the day as inviting as any day could be.

  It would take four days, at least, to reach Arlington. Though my feet were more calloused now than before, I knew they would be bleeding by the end. I looked at the torn shoes on Jonah’s feet. I knew that for every bit of discomfort I’d have, he’d have at least double. Blaise and I wore the same size as my mom, so we were each wearing a pair of her sneakers. Sara wore a pair of Charlotte’s, and East had plenty of her own from high school. Even Josh had Quint’s to wear, but Jonah and Eli wore bigger shoes than their father and neither had brought more than two pairs with them on their trip home. This was the better of the two that he had.

  We walked among the trees. We saw people here and there; sometimes they saw us, sometimes they didn’t. The people out here seemed as though they were just trying to survive. They had no desire to hurt us and we had no desire to hurt them. Even so, we never interacted and never gave them a reason to interact with us.

  The days were fine, but the nights turned cold. Fires were too easy to see at night, so we passed the time shivering and sleeping as near to each other as we could. One of us was always on guard. When it was my turn I often stared at the stars or at the faint outline of Jonah sleeping near me. Both made me believe in a God who created beauty.

  On our second day we got fresh meat. A little pink pig wandered in front of us and, just as with Wrath, Jonah speared it before I understood what was happening. We decided it was safe enough to have a small fire. The wood was dry and didn’t smoke much. I slept as the meat cooked, the first time the cold night hadn’t woken me from my dreams. The pig must have escaped from someone’s farm; it was too tender to have been wild its entire life. It was a rare treat to eat an animal that tasted and smelled like the meat we used to eat before the light.

  Stopping in the middle of the day meant we covered less ground than we needed to. But we had no choice. We had to eat and we couldn’t walk at night. Walking in the dark was a risk none of us wanted to take.

  ***

  Sara rejoiced when we saw the railroad tracks on our third day. I felt my hands start to sweat. The tracks meant we were getting closer.

  A mile or so later the sun was straight overhead. I moved to the side of the tracks so the sun’s light didn’t reflect from the metal rails into my eyes.

  “What is it?” Josh asked as Blaise stopped and stared at the ground.

  “I’m not sure,” she said, moving dirt with her shoe. As she did so a whitish-gray object emerged from the gravel.

  “A bone?” Josh said, a sense of confusion in his voice.

  As I stared at it I realized it was not from a four-legged creature.

  “Human,” Blaise whispered.

  The others looked around. I stared at the bone … not wanting to, but not able to shift my gaze.

  “Let me see the rifle,” East said, holding out her hand to Blaise.

  East held the scope to her eye. She pointed it down the track.

  “There’s a train,” she said, lowering the scope and hand
ing the firearm back to Blaise.

  “What else did you see?” Jonah asked, his voice low.

  East looked at him with a sadness in her eyes I’d never seen before.

  “It wasn’t a freight train,” she said, meeting his eyes. “The cars I could see were passenger cars and they were crumpled like smashed soda cans.”

  Birds chirped in the background, the contrast striking. Nature continued on, though the bones of humanity were scattered at our feet. With every step there was more death. When we reached the train it was difficult not to step on weathered pieces of people. I tried but failed and more than once knew the crunch I heard beneath my feet was not gravel but bone. Some of the bones were held together by rags that’d once been clothes. Those were easier to avoid, but most were alone. Separated from the body.

  My friends stopped at the area of the train with the largest rip in its side. I didn’t want to stop. I wanted to run from this place and never return. Jonah stepped toward the train.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, repulsion in my voice.

  “I need shoes,” he said.

  East, Josh, and Blaise followed him.

  “People died in there,” I said, my voice shaking as bones broke to shards beneath their feet.

  “My fate will be no different if I can’t walk,” he said, disappearing behind the rusted steel.

  I stood alone with Sara, surrounded by sun-bleached death. Sweat poured from my body. I rubbed my hands over and over again on my jeans. I breathed deeply, trying to stop the panic that threatened to overtake me. The world was spinning when I saw Blaise and Josh come out of the train. Jonah and East followed. Jonah’s feet were now covered in shoes that were stained red with blood.

  He was right. I knew he had to have new shoes to survive, but I also knew he and the others had a strength I didn’t. My mind broke at death. Theirs did not. It didn’t matter before when death was never seen, at least not by me. But now when death permeated the earth as if it were the rain that soaked the dirt, now it was everywhere and it was destroying me.

  I followed silently as they walked on. Jonah slowed his pace to stay beside me. I wondered if he knew. Knew that I was breaking.

  We continued along the train tracks. We were now miles past the crumpled train and still the bones continued.

  “Why are there still bones?” I said, my head spinning, my voice sounding hoarse and weak.

  “Predators,” East said. “The blood from the injured would’ve attracted every carnivore within a ten-mile radius. Maybe more.”

  “They were eaten?” I said in horror.

  Jonah took my hand in his. He could sense I was breaking; they all could. The way they looked at me made me want to scream. As if I was a child who couldn’t handle the realities of life. But then, perhaps that’s exactly what I was.

  I grabbed Jonah’s hand when my foot slipped. I caught myself and turned to see what I’d tripped over. A small skull lay behind me. My breath caught in my lungs, and thoughts swirled. A child. Eaten. JP. Quinn. Death. My mom. My brother. Jonah. Pops.

  I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t stay. I ran. Ran faster and farther than I’d ever run. Tears streamed down my face. How many had died there? How many were dead because of the light? The child’s skull was too much. The death that enveloped our country was too much. I wanted to run, to hide, to go back to my ancestors’ home. To pretend that none of this had happened. That I knew nothing that I knew now. I didn’t want to see people murdered for a truck. I didn’t want to invade the home of a couple who spent their lives together, only to die because someone somewhere blew something up in the sky. I was angry, angry at the terrorists or whoever did this, angry at our government for not protecting us, and angry at God for not caring.

  The earth rose beneath my feet. I ran as hard as I could. Footsteps followed. My lungs burned. I collapsed on a boulder covered in soft green moss. Tears from my swollen eyes left a cool trail on my sunburned face. I felt arms around me. They were Jonah’s. I wanted to throw them off, but I didn’t. Partly because I was too exhausted and partly because I wanted to feel life. I wanted to know he, more than anyone else, was alive.

  I stayed, head buried against that rock for what seemed like hours. When I lifted my eyes, the sun had moved only a little. It was not nighttime, as I expected. I blinked.

  Blaise sat on my left, her arm resting on my back. Jonah sat on my right. Neither said anything. I wanted to sleep. My brain wanted to sleep. I lay my head on my arm.

  I dreamt of ravenous wolves and circling vultures, of bears ripping open the side of a train like it was aluminum foil, of children screaming silent screams because no one was there to hear them, their parents all dead before them, the children left alone in this dying world.

  Fifteen

  Sara and Blaise lay beside me, their backs touching my sides. I knew that served two functions: shared body heat and they could feel me if I moved. They must have thought I was at risk of running. They were right.

  I lifted my head. Jonah sat near my feet, his back against a tree, his eyes tired yet fixed on me. A small smile crossed his lips as our eyes met. I lay my head back down and listened to the sounds of the night.

  I slept. My mind was silent, dreamless.

  ***

  I looked without seeing and heard without hearing. I followed my friends. Their voices sounded muffled, as if a cloud of darkness encased me and nothing could get in. I stared at the ground as my feet kept pace with the feet beside me. They were Jonah’s, his new bloody shoes cracking the small twigs underfoot. I turned my head and focused only on the ground beneath my feet. We walked and my body ached.

  Hours and miles ran together. The birdsong slowly broke into my dull mind. As I listened to the springtime melodies the haze in my mind started to fade. Trees gave way as the darkness within me began to lift. My spirit lightened when the blue sky came into view. I raised my head. We were entering a meadow, with East leading the way. She held out her hands, stopping Blaise and Josh.

  Jonah left my side and joined his sister at the front. They stood, staring into a clearing. I followed their gazes to a large metal object in the middle of flowing grass. I blinked and squinted. I was staring at a tank with rust starting to form around the large tracks.

  “We must be in Quantico or the forests around it,” Jonah whispered.

  “Yes, I think so,” East said, scanning the trees.

  Sara scanned the meadow and asked, “Will there be people? Like actual military people?”

  “Here they would be called marines, and I don’t know,” East said, still watching the trees.

  “So those trails?” Blaise asked.

  I craned my neck to see where she was pointing. In the long grass there were narrow strips where the grass was pushed down.

  “Those are game trails. I don’t see any signs of people, at least not here,” Jonah said, crouching low to the earth and inspecting the grasses of the meadow.

  “Where are they?” The words felt strange on my lips, the first words I’d spoken since the train.

  My friends turned to see me; my words must’ve sounded just as strange to them.

  “The light hit on Thanksgiving, so many were probably already with their families. The others probably left, trying to get home once they realized what happened,” Jonah said, turning from me and facing the tank.

  “We need to keep moving,” East said, waving us forward.

  “So everyone just deserted?” Sara asked, staring up at the tank as we went by.

  “What else could they do?” Blaise asked with a hint of resignation.

  “Stay and fight whoever did this,” I said, my tone angrier than I meant it to be.

  Jonah returned to my side. “I’m sure some did, and they’re probably closer to the Potomac or possibly all the way up in DC. But those that left—I guess, well, I guess I can’t blame them.”

  “They should’ve stayed. It was their duty to protect us,” I argued.

  “How
can we expect them to stay and defend the rest of us when their families were defenseless, starving, and freezing? That isn’t fair,” East said, as if defending the actions of a friend. “They can’t allow those they love to die, not if they can do something to help. It’s different when their families are safe and not freezing. Then they can leave even when all they want to do is stay. If those they love most will be okay, they can go and fight, but not until then.”

  Hearing her words and watching East stride across the meadow, I knew that she was speaking as much about herself and why she came with us as she was about the soldiers who had left to go to their families.

  “You’re right,” Blaise said. “It’s the same reason Holt came to Bria, why we are going to our families. You can’t just forget those you love, or hope they’re okay. Not if you know deep down they’re not. You have to go to them. You have to try and protect them even if you can’t, even if you’re too late.” She sucked air in. “You have to try. Even if you fail, you have to try.”

  Josh put an arm around her.

  I looked at Sara. She wiped her eyes. They knew. They both knew their families might be dead, that there was a good chance of it. But what else could they do? Love—real, true, deep love caused you to risk everything.

  “Are you doing better?” Jonah asked as we passed the rusting tank and entered the bright green forest once again.

  I nodded.

  “It can be hard, I know. Especially when the world is so dark.”

  Something about the way he said “especially when the world is so dark” made me think he was not just talking about life as it was now, or even of what East had experienced. It sounded personal and from long ago … something etched on his soul long before now. I wondered about his past and realized how little I knew of it, of him. I knew he was in seminary and I assumed his life was perfect and holy. That he was different from me and everyone else I knew. That he had escaped the lies. I assumed if God called you, or even if you thought God called you to be a priest, you were categorically different than all the non-priests on the planet. But looking at Jonah, his biceps pulling the sleeves of his black shirt tight, I couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps he wasn’t so different.