Famished

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Famished Page 6

by Lauren R. Hammond


  He grabbed me by the hand. “Georgie,” he sighed.

  Yanking my hand away, I whipped my free hand around and backhanded him. “I said stay away from me!”

  Colin’s mouth dropped open as he cupped the right side of his face. “Georgina, what do you want me to say? I’m sorry. Well, I am. I’m sorry.”

  I marched forward ignoring him. “Leave me alone.”

  “You can’t go off on your own! Mr. Baker said we have to stay together! And we haven’t found any supplies, yet!”

  “I’m sure you can manage without me. And if you die this time, believe me, none of my tears will be shed over you.”

  Pretty soon, I was far enough away from him that all I could hear was his voice echoing, “Georgina, drop the bitch act! It was a joke! Now come back here! You’ll be eaten alive out there.”

  “I’d rather be eaten alive than spend any more time with you!” That was the last thing I said to him. And if he did shout something back, I couldn’t hear what he said. There had to be at least a mile between us and in my opinion; a mile wasn’t far enough.

  My blood was boiling, and twice during my walk, I shrieked out so loud that I thought some of the anger, might have escaped through those screams but it didn’t.

  The tattered sign that read Lincoln, Nebraska dangled over my head as I plopped down on a pile of metal and rocks. “I can’t believe him,” I growled. He had me so worried that I was frantic. I poured my heart out to him. And what do I get? Some joke. Some sick, twisted joke.

  I kicked a rock in front of me and watched as it rolled across the dusty road. Seriously, what was he thinking? And why in God’s name would he think that I would think that any of this was funny? When I pictured him laughing, I had the urge to scream again. Instead, I picked up an even bigger rock and chucked it across the road. I focused on the tiny dust particles that circled in the air every time the rock bounced.

  Part of me wanted to be elated that he was alive and not dead. When he initially stood up, there was a miniscule second where I thought about tackling him and placing at least a dozen kisses on cheeks. The educated part of me knew that how I reacted would be the way anyone in my situation would have reacted.

  I thought of my parents. I imagined my mother’s face if my father ever pulled a stunt like this. Yeah, I don’t think even when my father was Colin’s age, he would have ever played a joke like that on my mother. After mulling it over it my mind, I came to the conclusion that I was not overreacting about Colin’s joke. Not at all.

  * * *

  After sitting in the same spot for about an hour, and tossing at least twenty more rocks across the road, I felt like I had finally calmed down. The brightness in the sky was starting to dim slightly and now I focused on another task. Finding Colin.

  “Damn it,” I cursed as I wandered back the way I came. It probably wasn’t a good thing that I let my temper get the best of me. I shouldn’t have wandered off. I could have stayed with him and ignored him, while the rage inside me was writhing. No. That wasn’t a good idea, either.

  When Frankie was a toddler, she used to do the same thing. She’d sit there and let her anger build. And build. And build up more. Until finally she was throwing a full-on temper tantrum. And those temper tantrums lasted for hours. They usually happened at night, so I’d be forced to listen to her incessant wailing as my parents tried to calm her down.

  The next morning, I’d be exhausted because unlike Frankie, I had to get up for school. “Never be afraid to unleash a little bit of your temper,” my Mom would say. “It’s not good for you hold it in.” It was that simple memory got me up off that pile of trash and walking again.

  As I walked down the road, something off to the side caught my eye, and whatever it was, it was sparkling. Glancing in both directions, my eyes rested on a piece of sharpened metal sticking out of the ground. I was definitely nervous to be out here all alone. That piece of metal would be an excellent weapon for me if I was attacked. But, I hesitated before picking it up.

  Cannibals were blood sucking, flesh eating, bone picking humans/monsters, but they were very cunning and they were very smart. I had never seen any of their traps up close and personal but I had heard plenty of stories. The one that terrified me the most was one that Mr. Vickers told.

  Once, when he was a gatherer, he found a glass jar, still intact, sticking out of the ground. Any gatherer that came across an object we could use would take the object, so Mr. Vickers yanked on the glass jar, pulling it out of the ground, and noticed there was a string attached to it.

  He unwound the yards of string until he couldn’t anymore. The string became taught and he resorted to tugging on it. A few forceful tugs later, a female cannibal erupted from the dirt. She was extremely hungry. I remembered this part of the story specifically because Mr. Vickers put such emphasis on it. “You should have seen her,” he said, an eerie tone to his voice. “Her face was hollow and sunken in, like she was rotting away from the outside to the inside. Her teeth were sharpened to form fangs, and white saliva dripped from the corners of her mouth.” But that wasn’t the worst of it. “She snapped her teeth at me, like a beast with rabies, and when I looked down, I noticed the bulge in her stomach,” he paused to catch himself, because he was on the verge of tearing up. “She was pregnant.”

  To me, that was more frightening than her resorting to cannibalism. I assumed that she was like the rest of the cannibals, homeless, abandoned, and starving. Her unborn child probably died in the womb because of the malnutrition. When you can’t eat, the living being inside of you can’t eat. Therefore it would not grow.

  I turned away from the metal on the side of the road. I kept walking. No picking anything up off the side of the road today.

  Chapter 8: Waiting And Drowning In Emptiness

  It is not good that the man should be alone.

  ~ Genesis 2:18

  When I arrived at the spot where I had left Colin, he wasn’t there. That wasn’t a shock. I figured he wouldn’t wait around for me. After all, he probably assumed that I wouldn’t be coming back. Especially after I slapped him. A tiny grin spread across my face when I thought about my mother slapping Mr. Baker across the face. I didn’t mind that I inherited her spunk at all.

  I sat down on the boulder that almost made me a human pancake an hour earlier. Of course, it was now at the bottom of the pile of rubble and three medium-sized rocks kept it pinned there. I stared out in front of me and squealed in delight. “My knapsack!” I had abandoned it during my fit of rage—thanks to Colin.

  After grabbing it, I slumped down in front of the boulder, and removed a piece of flat bread and my canteen of water. My stomach howled, churned, and gurgled. Yeah, I was pretty hungry. I was surprised that I didn’t notice my hunger pains until now. Then again, I had a lot on my mind at the time.

  Picking the bread apart into pieces, I nibbled on few of the pieces, still feeling distracted. I wondered where Colin went and when or if he would come back here looking for me.

  Focusing on two rocks in front of me, I chewed the bread mechanically, not able to enjoy it when I was hit with an epiphany.“Georgina, you idiot,” I said as I swallowed.

  Colin and I were supposed to be out here looking for supplies. Two hours, maybe three, had already passed and the council said that we only had four hours to look for the items on our list. Because of everything that had gone down earlier, I completely forgot about our mission—the reason that Colin and I were elected to come up here in the first place.

  Reaching into the front pocket of my knapsack, I removed my list, scanned it quickly, and peered up at the mountain of rocks in front of me. “Well,” I said aloud. “Might as well try to find at least one thing on my list while I’m waiting.”

  As I climbed to the top of the mountain, the worn out soles on my tennis shoes made me slip when they brushed against some of the flat, smooth rocks. I stumbled, almost falling down.

  “Wwhhoa,” my voice shook as I steadied my flailing arms. I caugh
t my balance when I clutched on to a massive, triangular piece of debris rock. The layered edging and worn out banner across the front of it reminded me of the top of the building at the old city hall.

  The City Hall was one of my favorite buildings to look at. It had such an ornate and antique feel to it. I used to marvel at the stone gargoyles on the top and fantasized what it would be like to see them soaring through the endless periwinkle sky. My lips curled up into a smile. Ah, memories.

  When I finally reached the top of rock mountain, I was proud that I had climbed all the way to the top. I wasn’t even winded. And I felt like I had climbed at least a dozen mountains in my life. Which was a lie. I’d never climbed anything. I didn’t even like the jungle gym on the playground.

  It wasn’t until I saw my bleak surroundings that the proud feeling inside of me vanished. Instead, depression set in. I was so sick and tired of the thick mass of gray all along the skyline. I was tired of not being able to see the beautiful, glowing sun, and scowled at the sight of the roads that were covered with a mixture of ashes and dirt.

  I wanted to see houses, buildings, roads, cars, and most of all, I wanted to see the earth alive again. I wanted to see the endless green stretching on for miles. Flowers in an assortment of colors blossoming. Cows out in the pastures chewing on the grass.

  Then I thought about my home. I couldn’t spot where it used to be. But as I closed my eyes, it came back to me, like a dream. There used to an open field behind our house. Frankie and I played many games of tag in that field. We frolicked, picked dandelion bouquets, had picnics, and even stayed out late at night in the summer to catch lightening bugs.

  Every Sunday morning, during the summer, my father would hop on his riding mower and mow the grass. That was one of my favorite scents—freshly-cut grass. After he’d finished the lawn, I’d walk out the sliding glass door and inhale deeply. I’d never again be able to experience that. But I should have been happy that I had any fond memories of what earth used to be like at all.

  A few women in the colony had given birth since it had been established and I felt sorry for those new infants. For the rest of their lives, they would only be able to picture what the earth was like from stories that would be passed down to them. They’d never truly be able to experience the real beauty of it for themselves.

  I snapped out of my trance, and my attention averted to my feet as a rock underneath my left foot began to wobble. “Time to start digging,” I groaned. Then I picked up the first rock and tossed it aside.

  * * *

  Minutes passed. Then an hour. I was a least threefeet down in the hole of rocks that I dug out and still hadn’t found one item on my list. What were the council members thinking, only giving us four hours? At the rate I was going, it was going to take me days. Maybe Colin was having better luck, wherever he was. He still hadn’t returned.

  Grunting, I picked up a medium-sized rock. I chucked over the side of the hole. “I better find something soon,” I mumbled to myself. Every time I picked up a rock I was digging a deeper and deeper hole for myself. And I didn’t know how I would get out of it when it was time for me to go back.

  Speaking of the time, it had to be dwindling down. I peeked up out of my hole and looked at my knapsack. Mr. Baker said that we only had four hours and I knew that a couple hours had passed before I started. Mr. Baker also said that one of our knapsacks contained a watch, so we’d know when to come back. The only problem was he didn’t say which knapsack contained the watch.

  Colin didn’t mention anything about the watch so it had to be in mine, somewhere. I had gone through it earlier but only briefly. I didn’t examine everything that was inside of it. Or maybe Colin did have the watch and never got the chance to tell me because I stormed off.

  Either way, I knew I was cutting it close time-wise. So, I made a mental note that I would only move a couple more rocks and if I didn’t find anything, I’d chalk it up as a loss and move on.

  What could the council say? If we didn’t find anything, we didn’t find anything. The outside world was vast and confusing for teenagers who hadn’t seen it in so long.

  Picking up another rock, I followed the same routine, tossing over the side of the hole. Then my eyes centered on something black that was peeking through some smaller rocks.

  Delighted, I got down on my knees and brushed the various pebbles away. I yanked on the black item, which had the same texture as an inner tube, and fell backwards as I freed it.

  My back slammed into something sharp. and warm liquid oozed down my spine. I was bleeding. Truthfully, it seemed like every inch of my body was bleeding. My hands were cut pretty bad from handling some of the sharper rocks. Flaps of my skin dangled at my palms. I had gashes across my shins from the climb up, and not to mention the cut I got on my ankle when Colin saved me from my potential squashing. Now I could add my back to the tally. And I didn’t even care, because I was distracted by something else entirely. I had finally found one item on my list. “A tarp!” I exclaimed.

  That was it. That was all I wanted. One item and I was happy. It wouldn’t have bothered me that much if I went back without any, but a twinge of failure would still be gnawing at me. What if Colin finally found me and he had every item on his list?A horrified expression formed on my face when I thought of Mr. Baker. “Did you find anything?” he’d ask. Of course Colin would dump out his knapsack and beam proudly as he displayed every item on his list. Then Mr. Baker would turn to me. “And what about you, Georgina?” That would never happen but, I still felt the embarrassment of the fake scenario—my cheeks red and tingly—like they were burning. Thank God I found that tarp.

  After balling up the tarp, I climbed out of the hole and began my journey down the rock mountain, scraping my shins at least a dozen more times. When my mother saw me she was going to freak out. She used to hyperventilate when I bumped my head as a kid. And now I looked like some mad man’s special experiment.

  Once I reached the bottom, I made a beeline for my knapsack. Determined to find the watch, I fished through every pocket and examined the interior thoroughly. Damn it. There was no watch in my bag. And that meant that Colin had it.

  Cupping my hands to my mouth, I shouted, “Colin!” I heard nothing in response, only the sound of my voice echoing. “Colin!” When I was worried about someone or something, nine times out of ten, I would let that feeling completely consume me and feed off me until I found a resolution for it.

  Another thing that made the entire situation worse was the fact that if I left without Colin, and something awful happened to him, I’d blame myself. And living with that kind of guilt for the rest of your life, was a burden no one in their right mind would want to bear. Also, if I wasn’t back in time, I didn’t know if I’d be allowed back into the colony. I’d be out here alone, meandering around the morbid desert/earth. And I knew one thing, I wouldn’t last long. I’d probably starve to death. No, probably wasn’t the correct word. I would starve to death.

  In the end, I came to the conclusion that I would wait another ten minutes for Colin—fifteen minutes if necessary—and that was pushing it. If he wasn’t back, then I’d have no choice. I’d have to go back without him.

  As those final minutes began, I prayed for two things; One. I prayed that I made it back on time—so I would be welcomed back into the only home that I had ever known for the last two years.

  And two. I prayed that Colin was alive, well, and didn’t die for real this time. And that hopefully, when I returned, he was inside of our underground world, at the bottom of the rope latter, waiting for me.

  Chapter 9: The Boy with the Violet Eyes

  But of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, thou shalt not eat of it: for in the day that thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die.

  ~ Genesis 2:17

  “Seven hundred eighteen. Seven hundred nineteen. Seven hundred twenty.” I decided that counting the numerous pebbles around me was the best way to keep time. Since I didn’t have a watch,
I had to be as accurate as possible and going with my gut wasn’t accurate at all.

  The brilliant idea of counting the rocks came to me when I was thinking about my time in elementary school. I couldn’t remember exactly how old I was when I learned to tell time correctly, but I did remember that there were sixty seconds in a minute. Then I multiplied that by the number of minutes I’d been waiting for Colin. Twelve. Whole. Minutes. Twelve minutes equaled seven hundred and twenty rocks. And those twelve minutes had been the longest twelve minutes of my short life.

  “I have to go,” I sighed. Staying out here on my own was not an option. If the council or my parents would have educated me on how to survive on the new, and in my opinion, not improved earth, I was positive that I would have no problem being out here on my own. But they didn’t educate me on survival skills. They educated me on how to find items on their stupid list. Why didn’t they think we needed to learn survivalist skills?

  That was one of the many things I disliked about the way our world was ran. We were too sheltered—like we were living under a microscope—everyone was watched carefully and a lot of discussions were kept secret or only revealed to certain people. Sure, it was safer that way, but with safety should also come precaution.

  Sometimes, because I was so good at keeping myself hidden, I’d eavesdrop on some of their conversations. Several members of the council ranted about the same stuff all the time. Like how smart the cannibals were. And from all the stories I’d heard, I didn’t have any doubts about that. I liked to think, that if the council members were actually as smart as they thought they were, they would be one step ahead of the genius, flesh eating humans. But they weren’t.

  The only separations that we had from earth were: a hole in the ground that was six, maybe seven feet deep: a braided, flimsy rope ladder: and a gigantic rock that covered the hole Colin and I emerged from.

 

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