It was stupid to think that he had anyway.
Whatever the case, by staying with us he’s making a sacrifice. Guilt seems to cut through me like a knife. I honestly don’t think I would ever willingly separate from my mother or even my father during a time like this.
I’m wearing my harness and every compartment is filled with some kind of weapon. The only thing that doesn’t fit in it is my sword. I have the sheath tied to a string around my waist. And every time I take a step, it slaps against my thigh, reassuring me that in less than two seconds I can have the hilt in my hand and, shortly thereafter, be beheading an alien.
The sword has provided me with confidence I never knew I had. Even now I’m walking with my back straighter and my steps surer. I’ve lost a friend, but I’ve gained strength.
Mia has her rifle in a holster that’s slung across her shoulder. I hear the faint clang of it hitting the metal rim of her backpack as she walks.
Wade steps to my side. I give him a nod as he does. Wade looks at Jason and then leans in to whisper to me. “Can you believe what Ken said?”
“Which part?”
“The part about Jason liking you.”
I roll my eyes. Everyone heard him say it and everyone heard Jason’s reply. “Yeah, but he didn’t want Jason to leave. He was grasping for straws—saying anything.”
Wade’s gaze lingers on me, assessing me.
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I saw the look in your eyes when Jason said he wasn’t doing this for one person.”
“Wade—”
“You’re falling for him. I thought you were smarter than that.”
“Where is this conversation coming from? You aren’t my dad. I’m not your responsibility,” I whisper harshly.
He thrusts his hand through his hair. “I just… I think you can do better.”
“We can end this conversation now. I don’t need you watching out for my heart. I can take care of myself.”
“Sinta, I’m not like Jason. I’m not sexy or charismatic. I don’t always know the right words to say or the right time to say them.”
I stumble but regain my footing. “Why…why are you telling me all of this?”
“I wanted you to know that I care for you. And, if you let me, I would take care of your heart.”
Wow. “Wade, don’t—“
“I’m different than he is in more ways than one.” He settles his eyes on mine. “I have never broken a heart and I would never break yours.”
Speechless.
He doesn’t wait for me to answer but drops to the back of the line. I glance up at Jason. He’s out in front, leading the way, taking the place of his dad, and Jasmine is behind him, practically on his heels. So much so that I think she’s stepped on him twice.
Jasmine has already made herself clear. She wants Jason. Every time she watches him she gets this faraway look in her eyes. It’s not love. But it reminds me of someone who wants to be saved and who has just found their savior. I have no stake in Jason. This is something I’ve told her and Mia. Jasmine is free to walk on his heels and watch him any way that she wants.
And then there’s Wade. He’s also made himself clear.
But my heart belongs to someone else. To someone who doesn’t see me the same way. If I was smart I would give Wade a chance. But apparently I’m not as smart as I thought. Jason is not mine. I had an opportunity to claim him if I wanted to and I missed it.
But knowing that does nothing to stop the heat that boils inside of me as I watch Jasmine following behind him.
Xenia, Ohio
April 28th, 2012: Day 37
Or calm the urges that I have to chop off her hand whenever she touches him.
DeGraff, Ohio
April 29th, 2012: Day 38
Or dampen the desires I have to stuff her mouth full of dirt whenever she giggles at something he says.
Findlay, Ohio
April 30th, 2012: Day 39
By now I’m so obsessed with watching Jasmine and Jason that it feels as if I’m painted green with envy. He’s thrown himself into getting us to Michigan and, staying true to what he told his dad, he’s not really paying that much attention to me. I take it all in stride, pretending his cold shoulder means nothing to me. Wade is also steering clear of me. He said what he had to say and put the ball in my court. I have no idea where we stand…where our friendship stands right now. But today I’ve decided to do what they are both doing to me, leave them alone and focus on getting home.
For miles and miles, everyone walks in silence. We don’t run into a soul. We find ourselves on a road with mostly cornfields and what appears to be abandoned farmhouses. As we pass a barn, where the chickens are running wild and pigs have taken over one of the fields, I scan the area for anything out of place. Anyone who was living there seems to have gone or was taken a long time ago, but someone is watching after the animals. They’ve strayed, but not off the property.
“Do you think anyone still lives there?” I ask Mia.
She looks over at the barn and assesses it as I have. After a moment she shakes her head. “No, can’t be. It would be stupid to stay there with all those animals bringing attention to you.”
She’s right. The animals would be loud, attracting the lizards. “But why haven’t the animals left? Wouldn’t they have run away?” We’ve passed plenty of barns and, while the property isn’t maintained, the animals have obviously been kept around by some force.
Mia shrugs. “Maybe they recognize this as home.”
“Uh-huh.”
We pass the property, keeping off the dirt road and walking just on the inside of a cornfield. Off in the distance, I hear the shriek in the air. By now we’re pros at this. Without speaking, we fade into the cornfield, stepping away from each other so as to easily blend in. Dropping to the ground, we let the long stalks of corn cover us from above.
I press against a stalk. My feet cradle the root and my knees hold it between my legs. The oversized, floppy leaves shield me, as the ship cuts through the air above us. Panic doesn’t allow me to watch it. I never do. I feel like a child with a “If I can’t see you, you can’t see me” mentality. Mia has her eyes shut so tight I can see fine wrinkles around them from her efforts. MJ has his head cocked back, looking up at the sky. It almost appears as though he’s challenging the aliens to spot him. Ms. Burgess is silently counting. Her lips move with each number. Jasmine, like MJ, is looking up, but unlike him she’s leaning back on her hands, the tips of her hair brushing against the ground. And Jason…he is watching at me.
“Are you okay?” he mouths.
“Of course,” I mouth back.
I think this is the first time he’s personally addressed me in days or have even acknowledged my presence. My pride is urging me to turn away and ignore him, but my heart is tripping with glee.
Pride wins over. I peel my eyes away and, just as I do, I spot something from the corner of my eye. Whatever it is, it isn’t big enough to be a lizard, but was something smaller. But still the hairs on my neck stand on end. To get up and shout, or even run, would bring attention to us. The ship isn’t too so far away that our movements in the cornfield would go unnoticed. Rats, raccoons, possums or other woodland animals were abundant and we had run into many during our travels. There was no way to avoid them when we kept to the trees, as we did.
I put my hand on the hilt of my sword. I didn’t want to kill anything, but rats are not my favorite animals and they’re scavengers, just like us. Since humans are becoming scarce, the rats are becoming bolder in where they go and who they mess with. I wrap a hand around the hilt. The thought, “rats will not inherit the Earth”, crosses my mind.
Then, as I slowly began to unsheathe my sword, I see brown, fur-covered paws crawling my way. Right after the paws is a black nose, a long snout and then peering dark eyes.
A dog.
We’ve passed some dogs, not many. They seemed to want to stay out of sight, just as
humans do. They run in packs, like us, finding safety in small numbers. They don’t bother us and they don’t hunt us down or try to bite us. There are too many unattended farm animals for them to want us.
But here one is, a German Shepherd. I peer past him, searching for another one. He’s alone. He keeps crawling toward me. His snout is close to the ground, like a stealth predator, but I understand that I’m not his prey.
I look around me, at the others. “Do you see him?” I want to ask, but no one is watching me or him. Jason has long since turned his head upward, along with everyone else, trying to guess how far the ship has gone and if it would come around again. Once or twice is common, three times and we can guess that it spotted us and running is our only option.
The dog inches forward until he’s at my leg. When he stops he glances up at me. Even in the glimmer of light I can see how sad his eyes are. “He needs me”, is the first thought that comes to mind.
I never had a dog before. My mom never bought me one and I, frankly, have never been a dog person. Not knowing what else to do, I put out my hand. I remember reading somewhere, or seeing it on TV that I was supposed to give a strange dog my hand, so it could smell it and know my intentions.
I put my palm on the ground in front of his nose. He sniffs and sniffs and, apparently deciding that my intentions are good, not to cause him harm, he licks me. Wet and warm, his tongue glides roughly over my skin, not once but three times before the tickling makes me pull away. With the cessation of contact he creeps closer and presses his soft body against my leg. I can’t help but to rest my hand in his hair, and I begin to stroke the top of his head and his back. He’s filthy, sticky and has burrs entangled in him, but I pet him just the same. His ribs protrude from his torso. Poor thing has probably been starving.
As the noise of the ship becomes softer and softer, we stand, understanding it’s not coming back.
“Where did he come from?” Ian asks.
I wipe the dirt from my butt. “I don’t know. But I think this is where he lives. He must’ve been keeping the animals here.”
“Send him away,” Jasmine says. “We can’t keep him.”
“And you’re saying this because…?”
I bend, feeling around his red collar, grasping the two metal tags. One is round and has “Rabies shot, 01-DEC-2011” stamped on it. The other has “Winston Duglan” with a phone number printed under it.
“Tell her,” Jasmine says to Jason. “A dog will get us caught.”
I feel heat rising in my chest. Who the hell is she? “If you don’t like him, you can always take off, Jasmine.”
“I think she may have a point,” Ian says. “What if he barks at the wrong time?”
I swing my gaze to Ian, peering at him through the slits of my eyes. “Did you hear him bark? Did you hear him at all? He crept to me. He knows he has to be quiet.”
Ian puts up his hands in defeat. I swung my piercing glare back to Jasmine. She has taken a step closer Jason. I was heated before, but now it’s intensified.
“He might not even want to stay with us. He might just being saying hi,” Jason offers.
“And if it doesn’t? If it wants to stay?” Jasmine asks.
“Then you can leave,” I state.
Ms. Burgess clears her throat. “Ladies, please. Sinta, the dog is your responsibility but, just so you know, we come before he does, so if he can’t keep quiet while the aliens are around I’ll trust you’ll do the smart thing. Jasmine, you’re more than welcome to stay with us, but I wouldn’t try to divide the group if I were you. Everyone here has gone through a lot together.”
Jasmine’s gaze sweeps over not only me but everyone else, as if she just realized she is the newcomer to our closely knitted group. I get the feeling she’s used to playing the part of damsel in distress and enjoyed having everything her way.
That act isn’t going to work here.
Her gaze shifts from me to the dog. Honestly, I don’t know if the dog will want to stay with me or if he is just stopping by to say “hi” as Jason said. But whatever the case is, it was for me and my friends to decide. Not Jasmine, the outsider.
“I don’t mind the dog,” Mia says, taking my side. And if it didn’t look childish I would give her a high-five. “What’s his name?”
“Winston,” I say.
“I don’t care either way,” MJ adds.
“Well, that’s settled,” Jason says.
“But…” Jasmine whimpers, her mouth set in a pout.
Score one for Sinta.
Jason looks up at the sky. The space ship is gone but the contrail it left is still there. “Let’s get further away from the road.”
We follow him deeper into the cornfield. We move single file along the path that the neatly planted corn provided, and Winston takes his place, following behind me. Every now and then I turn to make sure he’s still there and every time I’m surprised that he is. He’s so quiet, much quieter than we are. His tongue hangs out of his mouth, lolling to the side. Each time I glance at him, he looks up to me with big brown eyes. His eyes seem to say “I’m still here. We’re in this together” and I like that.
He’s a pretty dog. If he hadn’t worn a collar with his name on it, I would have assumed he was a police dog. He looks just like one, regal and strong. I would’ve bet he had taken down plenty of bad guys. Have sniffed out drugs. Or maybe that he was a search and rescue dog.
We move silently through the miles of cornfields until we reach another wooded area. There we only allow ourselves an hour’s rest to eat and drink. I share my water with Winston, pouring some of it into the tin cup that had come with the backpack and I had never used. He laps it up and, when done, sits patiently, waiting for more. I can’t resist, so I gave him a little more. Stuffed into my backpack are six more water bottles, plenty to share with him even if we don’t stop to replenish my stash.
I don’t have a lot of food that would be considered edible for a dog, and since I don’t know if the pellets are suitable for him, I don’t want to risk it. I have a couple of candy bars and cookies that I got from the Quickie Mart, but I also have three bags of beef jerky I can give to him. I rummage through my bag, searching past everything else until I find them. I have two bags of plain and one spicy. Deciding that the spicy might just upset Winston’s stomach, I give him three pieces of the regular jerky. As I hold it in my outstretched hand he sniffs it and, using his nose, pushes it around, as if considering whether it is safe to eat or not. “It’s the end of the world,” I say to him. “No need to be picky.”
Then he glances up to me with those beautiful eyes and, as if in agreement, he sticks out his tongue and laps it all into his mouth.
“Good, boy.” I pet the top of his head. “You are such a good boy.”
“What’s your mom going to say when you bring home a dog?” Mia says, as she plops down next to me.
“Hopefully she’ll be so happy to see you that she won’t care what you have on your heels.”
I look up to see the speaker. Jason.
“That’s the idea,” I say.
He sits down as well. Winston regards him with a wag of his tail. Jason give him his hand and receives a lick. For the first time in a long while, Jason smiles and I see his dimples again. Don’t you dare swoon, I threaten myself.
“You are a good boy, aren’t you?” he says to Winston.
“Where’s your shadow?” Mia asks.
Jason inhales a deep breath and the smile instantly drops from his face. He continues to pet Winston and Winston continues to enjoy it. His tongue hangs from the side of his mouth. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Denial. That works out well for so many people,” I say under my breath.
He shoots me a look. “I don’t need mess. Not right now.”
I give Mia a sideways glance and, taking her cue, she gets up. Winston regards her as she walks by him and away, as if deciding whether he should go with her, but as she goes to sit with MJ, Winston slides to lie do
wn by my side.
“Sorry for what I said.”
He starts to pick at the grass in front of him. “Doesn’t matter.”
I watch him as he picks away, making a pile, and suddenly all the anger I had pent up seems to slowly seep out of my pores, leaving me to appreciate what he’s done for us. “I wanted to talk to you before… I know how hard it must have been for you to leave your dad. To not see your mom and little brother. It was a sacrifice to come with us…to make sure we get home safely…when you don’t even know about your own family.”
His head drops and he keeps picking, faster and harder. The pile of grass grows higher and higher, as I find the courage to continue.
“I wanted to tell you that you’re the best.” Giving into the urge to touch him, I place my hand over his. At first he doesn’t stop picking at the grass, so my hand follows along with his. Then he stops and, when he does, I curl my hand around his. His hand is a little rough. It isn’t so rough that it’s uncomfortable, nothing like that. It’s rough from hard work and survival.
It’s also warm.
Strong.
Comforting.
I think I hear him sniffle, so I grow silent. I shift to sit beside him and wrap my free arm around his shoulder and lean onto him. He’s taking deep controlled breaths.
“It was hard,” he finally says.
“I can only imagine.”
“But I kept thinking about how they almost took you in their ship, and seeing Shayla’s dead body.”
Only then do I feel his breath hitch.
“We had to bury her.”
What he said surprises me. I didn’t know what happened to her body. I only assumed they left her where she was. We had seen so many dead bodies on our journey that burying the dead seemed almost like a foreign concept. “I’m glad you guys did. She can be at rest. At peace.”
Against The Darkness (Cimmerian Moon) Page 20