Chapter 7
The End of the World
She woke up to find him gone. Strangely, and for the first time in a long time, she could just roll her eyes back and fall asleep again. She worried about Logan, but not in a protective way. She, even though she would try at the drop of a hat, could never protect him in a way that she felt he could protect her. So really, in a strange way, she had no right to worry about him at all.
She trusted him, like a daughter trusted her father, the guy who always knew what to do, always came home at night and always had the same smile on his face when he did. So she only really worried about him in an obscure and distant "what if" fashion. She hadn't realized at all that he had been gone all night.
A few more hours sleep was just what she needed. She woke up to the chirping of the birds and the nearby cascading water. The sun had hated up the tent assembly rather quickly but a light breeze filtered in from the west and it was extremely pleasant to wake up to it's kiss. She couldn't remember the last time she had woken trouble free.
But it didn't last. A quick reality check confirmed they were still facing down the end of the world. They were still gazing down the barrel of a loaded gun. She slid from the mesh hammock, or at least the one Logan had fashioned from the remnants of the parachute, and put her bare heels on the lightly damp grass beneath.
But still there was no Logan. That gave her a sudden chill. Not one that rocked her to the core, but one that was enough to shake her. It always took her a while to wake up on the morning, and that was especially true in the new world without coffee. One of the few things she actually missed. She could count what she missed on one hand. Jace. Coffee. Mattering. Jack. And that was about it. A quick scan of the old camping grounds confirmed that he was no where to be seen.
He was kind, and gentle too. That much hadn't changed in him even though sometimes it felt as though his cold exterior armor grew colder as the days looked ever darker. Sometimes he just let her sleep and would go off fishing or even hunting if the day and weather signs were in favor of a good catch. After a violent shaking of the head, Lizzie firmly decided that he had just moved further upstream to catch something in different waters. She had noticed on their way back from the plane wreck that the river divulged a few times into several different offshoots. He might have gone there.
Her heart fluttered like a little girl in love when she cheated herself with the vile thought that maybe Jack had come back, and Logan had gone off somewhere with him. She hated that elation and squashed it with as much calm focus as she could summon at that time.
A wash in the river would be just what she needed to sort her head out. And with Logan nowhere in sight, not that he would have ever minded or even cast a cheeky eye in her direction, he was too much of a kind and gentle old man in that respect to betray her, but she could bathe freely.
There was a small waterfall someway up the stream. They had used the spot a few times for fishing and Logan had grown to like swimming there. The water was cold, like the crispest and firmest glass of ice water one could ever hope for. But there was something almost spiritual about it. Because it was so clean and so cold, it felt like it wasn't just washing you, but cleansing you of ill thoughts or bad moods. Or maybe it had all been in Logan's head when he told her that was why he liked it so much.
She started to stroll along the path that followed the stream. It was thinly graveled and somewhat uncomfortable on the bare soles of her feet, but not so much that it distracted her thoughts from the warming sun and rolling hills. The smell of the country had made her very tired at first. She was far too used to New York City air.
The fields opened up onto a rocky slate plane. That was the access point for the waterfall. Logan had taken to jumping in from the top of the outcropping on the other side. Maybe he just needed a little taste of adrenaline now and then. But it wasn't for her at all. Far too high up and she didn't much like jumping into deep water.
She slowly stripped off her green combat gear and frankly sweaty shirt, and tip toed in until the water covered her entire body. She dipped in and swam as close to the waterfall as she could get. Despite the size of the stream, it was very surprisingly powerful. She could just about reach the spray of the waterfall to wash her dark and raven hair. It was matted into clumps that she thought were never going to come out but after enough time under the powerful spray it fell over her shoulders rather neatly.
Her thoughts turned, as thoughts always have such a habit of doing, to darker things. With the uncertainly of Jack's departure she was both saddened by his loss and tortured by the hope that he might still be alive. All common sense was driving her to deal with it as if she had seen him eaten alive. And at least try to let go. But hope was building in such a cruel way that she just couldn't. Then there was Jace.
Truth told, she had no idea why she lied to Logan. At least lied to him by omission. He had guessed that she never had a partner. That must have been a telling sign to how pathetic she must have looked upon their first meeting. But it had something to do with the fact she could deal with it more easily if Logan just thought Jace never existed. Then she would never have to deal with the fact he was dead. That was what Jace was like after all. Maybe she picked it up from him after all that time. He always ran away from dealing with things, or made things seem funny when they weren't, just so he didn't have to deal with it. And he took that with him to his shallow grave too.
Lizzie burst into tears. She had never even said goodbye to him. Never addressed her feelings for him, not properly anyway. She had callously latched onto an idea that he never existed and then fallen for someone far too similar to him in what felt like no time at all.
That was cruel. She tried to make herself feel better. To be fair to her and to be fair to her memory of Jace, she had thought of nothing else while cooked up in her tiny apartment for months on end while she watched the world fall apart around her.
She heard the scream before she could pull herself around. At first glance it was only two men stood atop the waterfall above her head. There might have been more. How could she have been so stupid as to leave her gun on the furthest bank of the stream and so far away? It was empty, but that wasn't the point. A gun was a gun in this word.
She would come across more ammo soon enough. Until then it could be used as a deterrent. She ducked beneath the water and swam as hard as she could against the current to eventually get behind the waterfall. She was confident enough that neither of the two men on the top of the rocky outcropping had seen her there. And it sounded like there was a fight going on so guessed again that they probably had other things to think about. She was going to have to wait it out.
Blood started pouring down the stream. So much that it turned the whole waterfall red. A body followed. It hung limp and lifeless in the water upon impact. It barely made a splash and just hung on the top of the water like a dead fish.
Behind the thick veil of cascading and distorting wash back from the fall she could just about make out that a knife had been plunged deep inside his chest. It was still there. In a fit of bravery and determination she hurled herself past the thick screen of water and lunged for the blade whilst never leaving the safety of the water. She could hold her breath a while, but no idea exactly how long. Swimming wasn't something she made much of a habit of.
She held the dead man directly above her to see at least three others walking around on the banks of the stream. The water was too thick to make out any detail and her face and eyes quickly became caked in the dead man's blood. She dislodged the knife from his chest and crunched it hard into his skull to stop him from coming back. She could see that two of the men had discovered her belongings on the bank and were jeering like mad animals.
No idea what they were saying. But she could guess. That was all she could take for fear of drowning. She used the last of her strength to get back behind the waterfall. Beyond the crashing water she could hear them settle down and start to talk.
'
These must be that girl's. Find her!' One of them barked.
'What about him?' The other asked with clear panic in his voice. Lizzie assumed that he was talking about the dead man in the water, but apparently not.
'I don't know who killed the kid, probably was the guy she was with, but the snake can't hide forever. I'll find him and you find the other one.' He barked and pointed down to the clothes on the floor. After the blood had washed from her eyes she could just about see the build of them.
Nothing too imposing. Scruffy looking, thin, big boots and fur hats. They looked like farmers. Probably were. Lizzie was amazed when they left her gear unattended. She would have to be fast but she might be able to retrieve at least some of it. She pulled on the wet and slippery rocks behind her to free herself from the cover of the waterfall and crept very slowly over to her items.
One of the men was no longer in sight, the other, the weaker of the two, was scratching his head and running his hands over his face over and over again by the side of the stream. He was some distance away and facing the wrong way. No need to worry just yet but any move would alert him. Her shirt was long enough to act as a cover all. That would have to do for now.
As soon as she was covered she started hunting for her gun. It was nowhere to be found. Obviously. Further up the stream's tributary in which she had been swimming, the rocks formed closer together into a mini canyon. Some branches had fallen from the many old and imposing trees that lined the water's edge and bridged the gap between the two sides.
There he was. Logan. Looking right at her but with no expression on his face. He was just waiting there like a hunting vampire bat. As soon as she had caught his eyes, after resisting the urge to jump at the shock, she just nodded delicately to him. He pointed first at his eyes and then behind her.
She had no reason to worry because Logan had a gun trained by his side. He was crouched on the branch like a stalking tiger, perfectly balanced, but with one hand free for his gun. Lizzie turned slowly to see the second enemy facing the opposite way to her but not far from where she was crouched. Her gun was placed messily in his back pocket. She could get it, easily. She turned to face Logan but he had gone. No idea where.
It was clear enough that he wanted her to take on the man who had taken her gun. Logan must have been going after the other. She crept delicately up the warm slate rock, being careful to plant her heel before placing her toes, just like Logan had taught her. That way her wet feet would make no noise at all.
She got close enough to take the gun without the man even noticing. She slid it out of the man's back pocket without him even flinching. She turned on the spot and took one final glance to where Logan had been perched, then realized in her heart she didn't have what it took to kill the man, so hammered the but of her gun into his head as hard as she could. The man didn't know what had hit him and he went down like fallen tree.
'Don't do it man, I wasn't with them, not on purpose anyway.' She traced the waterline as far as she could see before the bend in the stream. There was Logan on the opposite side, the weaker of the men on hers. He coldly stared at the man across the width of the stream separating them, with his Desert Eagle drawn. The gold plated gun glistened in the sun and the light bounced all over the fast flowing water. Lizzie's heart was beating a mile a minute at the horrid thought that Logan was in no mood to show any mercy. He wouldn't do it... She knew he wouldn't.
'That track behind you?' It was so nice to hear his voice. Especially when he was mad. It filled her with giddy adrenaline and bouncing confidence at the same time.
'Yes sir.' The man replied earnestly.
'It leads to a mountain.'
'Yes sir, Scar fell.'
'Follow that path until you get onto that mountain, Scar fell, there's a plane crash site at the top. Might be a few supplies left if you're in luck.' Logan wasn't chancing a single word. Clear and firm as always but with a different element. It wasn't just anger she could sense in him but rage. Pure and thick, boiling and unrestrained rage.
'Don't come back this way. Carry your friend and get out of here.' He pointed his gun to the lump of a man Lizzie had easily dispatched a second earlier. The man jumped even at the sight of her. Combat knife in one hand, gun in the other, soaking wet black hair. But at least finally dressed and ready for a real fight.
'We can't go back to our people, sir?' The man asked as nervous and as desperate as any pathetic begging child could.
'They aren't there any more.' That sent shivers down her spine. She almost couldn't wait for the story. The man scuttled away but even from so far away Lizzie could see him cry himself hoarse.
Once they were out of sight and earshot, Lizzie waded through the water to her friend on the other side. Logan took no joy in killing. And hated anger in all its forms. That was the new him he had been talking about. He holstered his guns in a dark brood.
'Would you ever eat someone to stay alive?' He asked her out of the blue. She couldn't help but like the way his words slowed down when he was in that serious mode. There was something dark and commandeering about it. Authoritative and seductive at the same time. She put a gentle hand on his arm.
'Of course not!' She almost jarred back at the prospect and it made her feel sick to her stomach.
'Then you would have been first on their menu.'
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