Falling Ash

by Douglas, A. T.

  He takes a deep breath and glances at me with concern. “You okay?”

  I nod, still trying to get my breathing under control. “That was really close.”

  “Too close.” Jake can’t seem to look at me anymore, his gaze drifting to the dirt in front of him. “I think you’re right,” he reluctantly concedes. “We need to take more risk for a better reward. We need a big score so we can stay more off the grid.”

  As much as I’d like to bask in the rare occurrence of Jake telling me I’m right, I don’t want him to feel any worse than he already does. I don’t have the energy to tease him about it, anyway, so I offer a reassuring glance instead. “We’ll figure it out.”

  He smiles back before scanning the mostly clear and level area of dirt immediately around us. I’m not sure what he’s doing until he readjusts to lie down flat on his back and closes his eyes.

  I’m immediately jealous of his horizontal position and set the duffel bag aside to join him in his preparation for some blissful rest. It doesn’t feel as though I can fall asleep with the adrenaline still fresh in my veins; but my eyelids quickly become heavy, and soon I’m drifting off into peaceful slumber.

  When my eyes open again, it’s clear the sun has moved considerably in its path across the sky since the last time I was in the conscious world. I glance next to me to find that Jake is still happily asleep. He looks strangely comfortable, considering his makeshift bed is nothing more than a patch of dirt.

  I try to readjust my body to get in a better sleeping position when I hear the familiar sound of a tree branch breaking in the distance. Adrenaline immediately floods me as I quickly get to my feet and brace myself against a tree to scan the surrounding area. The trees and bushes remain completely motionless on this still summer day with no hint of a breeze, making it all the more shocking when I see a dark figure deeper in the forest.

  A sharp gasp involuntarily escapes my lips, causing Jake to shoot up from where he was sleeping, concern and panic written all over his face. “What’s wrong?”

  “Someone’s out there,” I whisper with my back against the tree, needing its support at this moment to keep me stable.

  Jake gets to his feet and stands next to me, peering around the tree and scanning the area. When he doesn’t initially respond, I begin to doubt what I saw before, but he finally says, “That’s interesting.”

  Confused by his reaction, I move away from the tree far enough to follow Jake’s gaze. It takes a moment, but I eventually find the only thing of interest in the calm forest scene before us: the distant view of smoke rising into the air.

  I step back from the tree, eyeing my brother carefully, as I can see the wheels turning in his head. “I don’t know what crazy thoughts you have in mind, but we shouldn’t be this close to someone’s camp.”

  Jake nods in response, but the look on his face makes it clear he does not agree with me at all. He briefly glances toward the area of the smoke again, then meets my gaze. “Maybe we should check it out.”

  I’m speechless at our strange role reversal, since now I’m the one being overly cautious about the risk we’re willing to take out here in the open world. As I watch Jake anxiously pace in the dirt as he waits for my response, I realize that it’s time to take my own advice.

  “Okay,” I concede, though still somewhat uneasily. “Let’s go check it out.”

  Jake stops pacing and smiles at my acceptance of his suggestion before turning in the direction of the smoke. I throw the duffel bag over my shoulder and follow as we slowly and carefully make our way between the bushes and trees to maintain an approach that is as silent as possible.

  We stop at a particularly thick area of brush between the trees with a perfect view of the campsite ahead. A rough-looking man with scraggily brown hair sits on a fallen piece of tree trunk next to the small campfire producing the smoke. He has a makeshift lean-to tent set up nearby with a large brown rucksack backpack lying next it.

  It’s what’s spilling out of the backpack that really catches my eye, though. My mouth begins to water at the sight of various shiny cans of precious food littering the grass outside of the bag’s opening. I look carefully for evidence of more of them inside it, but my excitement is crushed immediately when I see the other items clearly visible just inside the bag. These items are black and menacing. They’re the reason we’ll never be safe out here without some means of protection.

  I take another look at the man and realize he’s enjoying one of his cans of food, digging a spoon into some kind of beef soup from the look of the label on the outside of the can. Even from here, I can see that all of the visible skin on his face and arms is covered in dirt and a sheen of sweat. If I were to guess, I’d say he’s probably in his forties, though his ragged appearance makes him look older than he likely really is.

  Jake pulls me down with him so that we’re kneeling in the dirt as he whispers, “I need to pay this person a visit.”

  I look at him incredulously. “You saw the guns in his bag, right? I don’t think this is safe.”

  “He’s more focused on eating right now. If I make the right approach and if he’s even a remotely reasonable person, he won’t shoot me on sight.”

  “I’m going with you. Outnumbering him is a better option.”

  “No.” Jake grabs my shoulder and looks at me seriously, making sure I’m listening to each word he says. “You’ll stay safely hidden right here. I’ll do the talking.” I’m about to protest with the million reasons why this is a bad idea when Jake shakes his head and lifts his free hand in front of him to prevent me from speaking, interjecting before I can get a word in. “You will not get involved. Not one bit. Understood?”

  I appreciate his determination to protect me, but I hate the thought of his approaching this guy alone. Even unarmed, the two of us would be more intimidating to him than Jake showing up by himself. I know Jake won’t give in on this point, though, so I reluctantly nod my acceptance of his plan.

  A brief flash of relief crosses Jake’s face before he’s back to being serious again, motioning to the duffel bag on my shoulder. “I’ll take one of the screwdrivers just in case.”

  I drop the bag and struggle to grip the fabric enough to get the zipper open, silently cursing my dysfunctional left hand for failing me at such an easy task. Before Jake has the opportunity to step in to help, though, I manage to fish one of our makeshift weapons from the bag and hand it to him.

  With the screwdriver tucked away in his back pocket, Jake glances in the direction of the campsite, then turns to me. “I’m going to sneak around to approach from the other side. Please don’t come out from this spot. I need to know you’ll be safe right here.”

  “Okay.” The word falls uneasily from my lips and triggers a bit of panic inside of me. When Jake turns to leave, I quickly push up to my feet and grab his arm, causing him to stop and look back at me as I add, “Please be careful.”

  He nods and gives me a brief, reassuring smile. It makes me feel the slightest bit better, but I can’t help my hesitation to let go of his arm. My grip finally releases, and he silently moves away from me, ducking down behind the brush to move through the woods in a wide circle around the campsite.

  My heart races as I see Jake emerge from the opposing tree line on the other side of the camp. His hands and arms are in the air, making his peaceful intentions clear, but he initially goes unnoticed by the man at the campfire.

  “Excuse me,” Jake says loudly, stopping his approach as the man whips his head to the side to see him. Before the man can make any additional movement, Jake bursts out into a quick succession of words. “I’m unarmed. I’m not here to hurt you. I just have a couple of questions.”

  “Keep your hands where I can see them.” The man sounds irritated, but his tense posture begins to relax a bit as he focuses back on his soup. “I don’t like to be bothered, boy. You better make this quick and get the hell out of here.”

  Jake doesn’t waste a moment, getting right to his q
uestions. “The militia with the white bands on their arms—who are they?”

  “Haven’t seen them outside of eastern New York. You saw them here?”

  Jake nods, but doesn’t otherwise move, his hands and arms still firmly in the air in front of him. “They were coming down the road along the river earlier today, a whole convoy of them.”

  The man laughs. “Best to steer clear of whatever direction they’re going, then. I expect they’ll be clashing with the locals soon enough.”

  Jake looks about as confused as I am about the man’s response. “You don’t seem too worried about it.”

  The man’s focus couldn’t be farther away from this conversation as he digs with the spoon at the bottom of the can. “It is what it is. The world’s already gone to shit anyway.” He manages to scoop out a final spoonful from the bottom of the can before tossing it aside, focusing his full attention on my brother. “Why are you really here, boy?”

  Jake’s voice wavers slightly as he responds, “I couldn’t help noticing your pack full of food and weapons. Where did you get all of it?”

  A look of instant understanding crosses the man’s face. “I see it now. You’re starving and trying to worm your way into getting some of my food.”

  “No, sir. Please, I just want—”

  “You want, you want, you want.” The agitation in the man’s voice increases exponentially with each word. “I don’t do charity. I only do trades.”

  “I just want information. That’s it.”

  “Information,” he snarls back. “You mean you want to be my competition, to take the food and supplies that should be mine.”

  Jake shakes his head, looking exasperated in his unsuccessful attempts to reason with the man. Before Jake can say another word, the man reaches over to pull a handgun from the open backpack on the ground and raises it to aim directly at him.

  My reaction is automatic and completely against everything I told my brother I would do. I immediately step out from behind the thick brush and yell, “Hey, over here.” I catch a glance of Jake’s face blanching as I move quickly into the complete view of the man who’s now to standing with his gun pointed directly at me.

  He looks me over with fiery eyes. “Who the fuck are you?”

  “I’m his sister,” I respond with a nod toward Jake, “and I have something to trade.”

  The man’s face softens into a curious expression, but his gun remains trained on me. “I’m intrigued. What do you want to trade for?”

  “That gun. I want it.”

  His eyes widen in surprise. “And what could you possibly have that would be worth trading for this gun?”

  “Me,” I offer before I even realize what I’m saying. “I’m all yours for one night.”

  He belts out a laugh. “I’m sure you’re great, sweetheart, but no one’s that great. This gun’s worth at least a week.”

  “Ashleigh!” Jake calls out angrily, demanding my attention. “We need to leave.”

  I ignore my brother’s command and keep my focus on the man with the gun in front of me, willing my voice not to waver. “Two days and nights. Nothing more.”

  “Five,” he fires back.

  My mouth goes dry. “Three.”

  “No. It’ll be five, and that’s my final offer.”

  Before I can manage a response, Jake runs across the campsite and grabs my arm, dragging me toward the tree line where we were hiding before. “Sorry to bother you,” he calls out to the man who still has his gun pointed at us. “We won’t do it again.”

  Within seconds I’m being shoved between the bushes into the thick of the woods, barely able to stay on my feet. “What the hell, Jake?”

  He won’t even look at me, continuing to push me along to get us farther away from the campsite, until he eventually yanks on my arm and brings us both to a stop so we can talk face-to-face.

  “I can’t believe you did that,” he scolds through gritted teeth.

  “He was going to shoot you,” I argue. “I had to do something.”

  Jake bows his head for a moment as he takes a deep breath, and when he looks at me again, I can see he’s practically shaking with his fury. “That’s not what I’m talking about. That trade shit you tried to pull? I just can’t even—”

  “We could have had a gun. A fucking gun. You know how badly we need a real weapon!”

  “I will not let my sister whore herself out for any reason,” he booms back, his voice on the verge of breaking. “Do you have any idea what he could have done to you? Five days… How could you even consider that?”

  “I don’t know what to say,” I answer honestly, at a complete loss for words. Silent tears trickle down my cheeks, but it’s unclear to me what’s causing them. Are these the outpourings of my shame and self-hatred for what I offered to do? Are these signs of desperation and lost hope, harbingers of surrender and defeat?

  As I stand here in front of my brother, judging myself as he’s just judged me, I begin to realize I don’t even know who I am anymore. Despite how drastically my life has changed since the end of last year, I’ve tried my best to be who I am, to stay the course and not be overcome and swept away by the challenges I’ve faced. The problem is I can’t still be that person. I’m not her anymore. She was taken from this world all those months ago when everything changed, and I’m all that’s left.

  And I have to survive, for me and my brother. I’ll do whatever it fucking takes.

  I think back on Jake’s words, their sting still felt somewhere deep inside me, and an idea comes to mind as I slowly repeat, “Five days.”

  “What?” Jake’s looking at me like I’ve lost my mind, and maybe I have.

  “What if it didn’t have to be five days? What if it only had to be five minutes and we could have all his guns and food?”

  Jake shakes his head. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, and I don’t want to know, because we’re not going back there.”

  “Just hear me out.” I take a deep breath and put on as convincing of a face as I can for my skeptical brother. “What if I go back and accept his offer, but play along just long enough that he’ll lower his guard?”

  “Jesus.” Jake runs his hands through his hair as he turns away from me, pacing the dirt.

  I quickly continue before Jake has the chance to cut me off. “When the opportunity presents itself, I’ll find something sharp and I’ll stab him, or I’ll hit him over the head with something.”

  “That sounds awfully ambitious for someone with a fucked-up hand.” Jake stops pacing the moment the words leave his lips, and he looks at me, regret written all over his face. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  I can’t deny the tightening in my throat at hearing Jake’s cruel but truthful jab at my disability. My self-doubt quickly increases as I wonder what the man’s reaction will be when he realizes I only have one good hand. Will it be a turn-off for him and make me less desirable to him? Will he send me away when he sees it, ruining my plan?

  With a quick and even breath to get my emotions under control, I face my brother with as much strength as I can muster. “I’ve survived this long with my fucked-up hand. I can do this.”

  Jake’s demeanor has shifted completely from just moments before. He looks slightly less troubled by my suggestion. The indecision on his face tells me he’s actually considering what I’m saying. “You’d just have to yell for me,” he finally concludes. “When you’ve made your move, I’ll come in and help you, and we’ll take him down together.”

  Some small part of me wishes Jake would have continued his tirade and convinced me not to do this, but overall I’m relieved to know I’m not crazy for being willing to do what’s necessary to survive.

  “And if he goes too far or does anything to hurt you before you make your move,” Jake continues, “I’ll be just outside of the camp with a screwdriver ready for his heart.”

  I nod in appreciation of Jake’s protectiveness, but realize I have to take e
xtra care not to let the situation escalate to the point that he would actually have to step in and take the man’s life himself. I’m not willing to let him bear that burden when the police officer’s death is weighing him down already.

  With a deep and nervous breath, I look myself over to see if I’m presentable enough. I wish the river were closer so I could at least wash my face and arms, but it’s too far out of the way. Everything about me looks dirty. I’m about to pull up the bottom of my shirt to wipe myself down a bit when Jake steps in.

  “Here.” He takes off his shirt and uses the cleanest part of it to carefully rub off a few spots on my face and neck before running the material up and down each of my arms a few times. “I can’t believe I’m helping you to do this.”

  I can’t believe it either, but I’m not going to say anything that might change Jake’s mind. “Thank you.”

  He smiles briefly as he finishes up and puts his shirt back on. “Are you sure you want to go now? We can wait—”

  “No,” I insist, motioning in the direction of the campsite. “I need to do this now before I have too much time to think about it.”

  “Okay.” Jake takes grabs the duffel bag from me and takes the first steps back toward the campsite, and I somewhat reluctantly begin to follow.

  A strange mix of emotions swirls within me as we walk. Fear and anxiety are the most prominent among them. Doubt’s not far behind as I’m concerned about how well I can play the part necessary to distract the man enough to let his guard down. Worry is my constant enemy, making a strong reappearance because I dread the thought of Jake losing it and doing something drastic when he sees me offer myself to this man.

  When the campsite appears in the distance, though, I have it put it all aside and focus on the task before me. We come to a stop, and I turn to Jake, pulling him to me in a tight embrace, never wanting to let him go.

  “Don’t get too close,” I warn while fighting the tightening in my throat, “and don’t do anything stupid.”

  Jake pulls back from me with a knowing look, as well aware as I am that this whole plan is probably a bad idea. “Please be careful.”