Survivor Girl (Daughters of New America )

by JM Scott

  We crept down three floors to his new apartment. He also had a fire escape. I wish I would have remembered that this apartment was empty, then I would have never been caught. Trent grabbed a garbage bag filled with stuff.

  “It seems as though my knife and my bag went missing. I will have to ask Lane to return it when we get there.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Nothing to be sorry for.”

  He helped me out the window and we made it down the fire escape. The snow started falling again. The coldness took my breath away. I wanted to run but I had a hard time even moving. Trent grabbed my good hand and we slipped in between buildings.

  “How did you get the car?” I asked as we made it the near the reservoir. The snow was deeper here. I saw the tires tracks getting covered.

  “I took it. We don’t have much further.”

  “Why?”

  “I told you that I already knew you would be running. You think I was going to let you run by yourself?”

  “I need to stop,” I said and sat on the chair I use for work. My body screamed. “I don’t need you, I can make it my own.”

  “I know, but I need you. And I’m a coward just like the rest of them. I let Jeremy kill that guy. I let Huck claim Lane for sex. I let you get beat. I should’ve got you out last night.”

  “Did you know?”

  “Not really, I knew something was going down . Perdóname, Holly. I was a coward. I’m sorry. Please let me take you away.”

  He dropped to his knees in front of me, took my good hand and kissed it.

  “We have to get going. There’s a storm coming and I would rather be out far away when it does,” he said.

  He helped me up.

  We started up the path. Up ahead was a four by four. It was an older model that they used to bring meat back from the woods or from the farm that had cows. They would miss it, but it wouldn’t matter.

  He took my bag and put it in the truck with his sack. The engine started with a grunt. He pushed in the clutch and started up the hill.

  “I didn’t know you drove stick.”

  “Bandita, stick is all you drive on the streets.”

  We made up the place where I let Lane free. The snow came down harder and faster.

  “You know where to go?” he asked as he waited at the service entrance. The wipers flopped against the windshield. The engine growled and the heat wasn’t too hot.

  “Yeah make a right here until you see 172 or Hammond Drive.”

  He started down the road. The wipers fells into a steady rhythm. I said, “Trent, what if they don’t want us at Mapleton?”

  “Then we go somewhere else. Because it doesn’t matter anymore, we can do this on our own.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  From my calculations, we made it two hours before the truck ran out of gas. Trent drove, allowing me to sleep. The snow continued to pummel the world around us. Our tire tracks were already starting to get covered. It was different here in all this snow, the cars were pushed to the side of the road. Hoods were open and most of the what was salvageable was already taken.

  “There’s a town up ahead. I think if we walk, we might find one with a fireplace,” Trent said and put his gloves and hat. He helped me put on my gloves, which was nice but I hated it. He treated me like a child, but then again I had no choice but to let him help me. We got out.

  Being in the warmish truck for the last few hours was tropical compared to the outside temperature. The wind hurled across the road almost knocking me over. Trent grabbed onto me and steadied me.

  I don’t how far we walked. I couldn’t feel anything anymore. Which was a good thing. But the numbness would wear off eventually. We found a small house with a fireplace. The doors were unlocked. It was clean, which I found to be odd. The living room was comfortable with a floral sofa and a worn leather recliner. Stacks of wood were stacked in the wood box.

  Trent wiggled the flue. The rush of cold air came from the chimney. I shivered in spite of the numbness. He quickly started laying the kindling in the grate. From the living room was a small hallway to the right was a small bath and the left a dining room. Straight ahead was the kitchen.

  I moved toward the kitchen. On the table was a box, a radio and a note.

  Hi and Welcome. This box is courtesy of the Mapleton Community in Stowe. You are welcome to stay here but please come and see us. You are also welcome to come to Mapleton or live in Stowe with other community members. We are happy that you are here. Call us for a chat on the radio, someone is always listening. We are stronger together. Have a great day! Mapleton

  The box had various canned goods and gallons of water a well as soap, pads, dish soap and a small map to Mapleton. I turned the radio on. The static faded. A voice on the radio came through.

  “This Mapleton in Stowe is anyone there?”

  I pushed the button. “This is Holly Biscayne.”

  “Hello, Holly. Can I ask your location?”

  “In a house off the highway. We were caught in the snow.”

  “So you found the welcome box?”

  “I gotta know is there a girl by the name of Lane Snow there?”

  “Hold on. Give me a minute.”

  The man vanished and static returned.

  “Holly?”

  “I’m here.”

  “Yes, Lane is here.”

  “Is she doing okay?” I asked excitedly.

  “Hold on, let me get you someone else to talk to you. How do you know Miss Snow?”

  “We were in Ipswich together.”

  Trent appeared in the kitchen.

  “Lane’s there. She made it,” I told him.

  “Holly?” a girl who sounded close to my age got on the radio.

  “I’m Holly.”

  “I’m Bryndle Sweetwater. You wanted to know about Lane and Alexandria?”

  “Alexandria?”

  “Her baby, Alexandria. They’re fine. Lane is good. The baby has gained one pound since her birth.”

  “When did she give birth?”

  “The day you set her free.”

  I should’ve went with her. Did she make it to Mapleton? What if she didn’t and gave birth off the road somewhere, alone? But she made it and the baby was okay. And for some reason there was that slim comfort, but I also felt like I messed up by staying. I just believed in the home I had with Ipswich and Huck and all of them. If I would’ve gone with her, I wouldn’t have gotten beat or threatened with rape. I read all the books, I could have delivered that baby-Alexandria. I should’ve been there to help her.

  “I’m so glad. So Miss Sweetwater.”

  “Bryndle, call me Bryndle.”

  “Could we come to Mapleton?”

  “We?”

  “Trent and I.”

  “Mostly everyone is welcome,” Bryndle said.

  “Mostly?”

  “Well we don’t want murderers and rapists among us, no one really does. When you come, you will be questioned. Though my uncle believes everyone has a second chance including murderers and rapists”

  “Questioned?”

  “It’s standard stuff. We run a background check and if anything comes up then we want to know your side of the story.”

  I probably was okay, after all I vanished off the grid when I was fifteen. I slipped through the cracks like discarded paper. I was concerned about Trent. He did kill someone, by accident of course and he was a little boy. And I believed him about not killing anyone else. I could see Jeremy killing anyone. He would’ve killed me, if he wasn’t such a kiss ass to Huck. I saw it in his eyes.

  “Holly, are you still there?”

  “Yeah, I’m just thinking.”

  “Are you afraid?”

  “After this all happened, I felt like Ipswich was my home, but then I guess...”

  “Mapleton can be your home, Holly. People are people. It’s not perfect here, but it’s the best we got. We would never force pregnancy on you.”

  “How?”

>   “Lane told me what you told her.”

  Then there was silence. I just didn’t know what to do.

  “Lane also told me how you love working. We’re looking people to settle the surrounding farms near Mapleton. It’s voluntary and only a few people have signed on. We offer training and all. You get a nice house in the country.”

  I never thought about being a farmer, but it actually sounded like a good idea.

  “Is this a sales pitch?”

  “No, but maybe this is what you need. And Holly?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Lane told me what happened in Ipswich and told me how you helped her. And that took a lot of balls. And here you are in somewhere in Vermont. I gotta know, did something happen to you?”

  “I’d rather not say.”

  “Fair enough, when will you be arriving?”

  “Once it stops snowing. I think we’re an hour from Stowe.”

  “We can send someone down to get you.”

  “No, it’s okay. I want the time to walk and think.”

  “Take care out there Holly. I will tell Lane you’re on your way.”

  I turned off the radio. Farming was the best choice. Granted, I had no idea what I was doing but Bryndle said they were offering training. Since being in Ipswich, I never realized how I loved the quiet, the solitude of nature and the work. I enjoyed my work in Ipswich. I liked people, but I liked being on my own. "So Trent,” I started.

  “If you are asking me to work on a farm with you, the answer is yes.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Why not? If you one street rat can convert to farming then why can’t another?”

  I smiled although it hurt.

  We arrived at Mapleton two days later. We were picked up by some people who were clearing the roads. Mapleton itself sat in huge fence that went forever. There were campers inside as well as an apartment looking building. Some barns and other buildings and huge white building.

  The gates were open and there was a guard sitting in a little shack.

  “Welcome to Mapleton,” he said and smiled. I already had a good feeling about this place.

  “Holly!” someone yelled.

  “Wait here a sec, I’m getting the welcoming committee,” the man said and called Bryndle on the radio.

  Lane ran toward me with a tiny baby wrapped in dozens of blankets. She threw her arms around me. “You’re here. You made it. Bryndle told me you were coming.” I winced in pain.

  She stepped back. The baby cried. I was getting better, but I couldn’t really move my left arm and I still couldn’t see out of my left eye.

  “Do you all have any weapons?” the man asked.

  I pulled out my gun.

  “Here let me take a look,” I gave it to him. He took out the magazine and the one of the chamber. He wrote down some stuff on his notepad and gave it all back to me.

  “Did they do this to you? Because of me?”

  “That’s in the past.”

  A girl who was definitely around my age in army fatigues and long light brown hair came out with a much older man.

  “Holly and Trent from Ipswich?” she asked. She put her hand out and took my good hand. “I’m Bryndle Sweetwater and this my uncle Alex. You need to see a doctor like three days ago.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You might think so. But not until a doctor says otherwise. Doctor first questions later.”

  “We want to farm,” I said before I lost my nerve.

  “You do? Together?”

  I nodded.

  She smiled and took me lightly by the arm. Trent followed behind.

  “Holly, from what Lane told me about you. You belong in our community. I think we have the perfect farm for you and your friend. But we can talk more about it soon. Let’s get you better.”

  And for some reason, I wanted to cry not because I was pain, though I was, just because I knew I had come home. A real home.

  Hey all,

  While I was writing Solider Girl, this world and event wouldn’t let me go and it got me thinking about another kind of girl, a homeless one. I think it was because homeless people survive day in and day out, but what if the world changed. With Survivor Girl, her name came to me in a dream. I don’t remember the dream, but I remember the name Holly Biscayne because it was said over and over.

  I’m not really sure why I chose Allentown, PA but I knew the lay of the land so to speak. And one day, I went to visit my dad who lives in Whitehall. As we driving to his house, we went passed a little store- the Wild Cherry. The story started to come together. Of course Allentown and Wild Cherry are used fictitiously

  Once I finished writing Solider Girl, I started working on Survivor Girl. And there is another to be published or already is published and that is Solitary Girl. Even to this day, this world just won’t let me go, there’s more to explore.

  If you enjoyed this book please leave a review.

  Till next time,

  JM Scott August 2018

  Find me on the web!

  Website: http://jmscott.wordpress.com

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  For a list of all my books, visit my Amazon author page:

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