by Jay, Jess
She set some of her old pajamas in the bathroom and left the girl to get changed, warning her that the lights would turn off soon and showing her where a solar light was in case that happened.
While she waited, she sunk into the couch and immediately regretted the decision. The softness of the couch’s cushions welcomed her, drawing her in as if they had their own gravitational pull. She needed to stay awake long enough to tuck the girl into bed and make sure the girl felt safe, but the couch had other ideas.
Thea woke up to moonlight spilling into her shelter, glittering over every surface. It was beautiful, as if everything was sprinkled with magic. She smiled a little, lifting her hand to reach for the sparkling dust before noticing her hand was covered in gold.
Heart seizing, she sat up, pollen scattering and hovering in the air for a few seconds before drifting toward the ground. Her mind sputtered, attempting to put everything together.
The doors were open. But how were the doors open? She wouldn’t have been that careless, no matter how tired or exhausted she was. Not at night and not with pollen on the way.
When she stood, she saw the chair in the salted entryway and realization crashed into her—the girl. The girl had watched Thea put the code in that morning. The girl had used the code to leave and ask Thea about her mother. Thea marveled that she remembered it after seeing it once, but then a second wave of realization washed over her.
The girl had left.
Thea grabbed the shotgun from where it was propped up against the kitchen counter and rushed out of the shelter. When the fresh night air hit her, she faltered. The girl had left on purpose. Thea assumed it was to find her mother, but what if it wasn’t? What if she would rather die than live with Thea?
Thea had tried to be kind to her but had been so distracted and full of anger. She figured she could make things better later, but what if the damage had been done? What if the girl didn’t want to come back? She shook her head, telling herself it didn’t matter. She couldn’t leave the girl out there to die. She could deal with the rest later.
Jaw set, she followed the girl’s tracks in the pollen back toward town.
A few minutes from home she came across her bike and dusted it off. The flashlight, duct taped to the handlebars, still shone. She removed it, replacing it with the shotgun. Once it was clamped into place, she continued down the highway, pedaling as fast as her weary body would let her.
She hoped she hadn’t slept too long and that the girl hadn’t gotten too far, but the longer it took the more she realized it was late—past midnight. The girl had walked alone through the night for hours. Thea would go as far as she could to find her, but the longer she pedaled the more frustrated she became. Memories attempted to seep into her mind, but she blocked them, suppressing the images of a dark road and a small girl covered in blood, walking into the blackness.
Keep going. Don’t look back and don’t stop.
After about an hour Thea saw a light in the distance, bobbing close to the ground. It was the girl, her blonde hair shining in the moonlight and her small form pushing forward despite stumbling from exhaustion. Thea’s bike clattered to the pavement as she jumped off, grabbing the girl’s arm to stop her. The girl didn’t falter, jerking free and continuing down the Highway. Thea froze, heart sinking in her chest.
The girl hated her that much.
It didn’t matter.
She forced herself forward and tried to stop the girl again, but she dodged out of Thea’s grasp, her face determined but scared. She didn’t believe her mother was dead. After their conversation—and even after seeing the writhing husk—she didn’t believe Thea. She didn’t want to believe Thea.
“Fine.” The word escaped Thea’s mouth. She didn’t know what she was doing. She didn’t have a plan, but she knew she wasn’t going to let the girl go off on her own. “You need to see your mom for yourself, so let’s go.”
The girl slowed, her steps less certain. Thea didn’t wait. She strode down the Highway feeling as if she was watching her body say and do things that didn’t make sense. It was suicide to seek out a shrieker. She knew what it was like to see someone you loved turned into a monster, but if that’s what it took for the girl to realize what happened, then so be it.
A sniffle stopped Thea in her tracks, and she turned to see the girl twenty feet behind her, head hung, not moving. Thea faltered, confused. A second ago the girl was so sure she wanted to see her mother. Why was she hesitating? Was it because she didn’t want to go with Thea?
Adrenaline pumping through her system, Thea lost control of her mouth and said, “I’m sorry that you don’t like me, but I can’t let you go on your own. If you want to see your mom, we’ll go together.”
The girl sniffled again and shook her head, stubborn.
“We’re all each other has right now. We have to stick together.”
Sniffles spilled into sobs and Thea rushed over to the child, pulling her close to stifle the sounds she was making. The girl clung back, her small hands gripping Thea’s shirt, tears soaking through the fabric. Not knowing what to say, Thea said random encouraging things, telling the girl everything was going to be okay even though it might never be again.
When the girl finally stilled, sleep overtaking her, Thea picked her up and carried her back to their home, leading the bike with her free hand. It was a long walk and a long night, but Thea wasn’t afraid.
She wasn’t alone anymore.
Chapter Nine
Thea started calling the girl Jojo. She wasn’t sure that was her name, but when she went through the girl’s belongings trying to find any information about who she was or where she came from, Thea found it written on one of the shirt tags. It could have been someone else’s name or a nickname, but the girl responded to it and it was better than nothing.
After Jojo woke up from her long sleep, she retreated into herself. She didn’t try to leave again. She accepted that her mother was gone and that she was stuck with Thea, but acceptance was in some ways worse than denial. The knowledge she would never see her mother again sunk Jojo into despair.
Thea tried to be understanding and offer encouragement, but also tried to give her space. This was in an attempt to be considerate, but also because she had a lot of work to do.
In the first few days after the two successive nighttime adventures, Thea tried to get the greenhouse in working order and clean the shelter of pollen. Both tasks seemed impossible. For every tuft of green she removed and burned several others grew outside the freshly salted area. No matter how long she spent vacuuming the basement, trying to remove every speck of pollen, she still found the gold dust stuck in cracks and corners.
The most pressing issue was the witch-like shrieker buried under the rubble in the greenhouse. Several times she gathered her courage and attempted to pull it—and the rubble that covered it—out of the greenhouse so she could set it on fire, but lost her nerve the moment it began to thrash and dislodge the boards pinning it to the ground.
There was no way to move it and keep it dormant. If she was serious about saving the greenhouse, she would have to risk setting it free, but she wasn’t sure it was worth it… No, she knew it wasn’t.
After a week of trying, she had to face the truth.
It was time to leave.
She knew from the moment the greenhouse collapsed in on itself… From the moment Jojo came into her life… No, she knew from the moment her aunt passed that she had to leave.
As she sat on the couch listening to the stifled sobs seeping through the walls, Thea looked at the picture of Jojo and her parents. They looked so happy and it brought to mind the pictures around her aunt’s mirror. She thought of the carefree happiness they felt as those small moments in time were preserved forever. Thea wanted that kind of happiness; she could feel the desire burning through her.
She wasn’t sure the Pasture existed. She didn’t think she could ever be sure without seeing it, but meeting Jojo and talking with her mother for the few
lucid seconds she was still herself birthed hope inside Thea. It was small and easily ignored at first, but as she realized staying wasn’t an option it blossomed, spreading through her, fertilized by desperation.
The Pasture had to exist. Something better had to exist. There was nothing but death left at her home. She needed to go. She needed to try.
* * *
A week later Thea set the greenhouse on fire.
Everything they’d need to leave was prepared in case the fire spread. Their bags were packed and a wagon was hitched to her bike, full of supplies. Her old bike was cleaned up and fixed for Jojo who, upon learning they were headed to the Pasture, rejoined the land of the living. She helped prepare food to be dried, canned, and preserved. She helped Thea gather what they needed to leave and occasionally treated Thea as if she didn’t hate her. Logically, Thea knew the girl was going through a rough patch, but it was difficult to not take being ignored personally.
Thea watched the flames as they spread through the pile of wreckage built on top of the shrieker, gliding along the accelerant. She had planned on burning the greenhouse the next day, right before they left, but that morning clouds heavy with moisture spanned the sky all the way to the horizon. With any luck it would rain, and she decided to take a silly, sentimental gamble.
If she could get the fire going while keeping the damaged areas of the greenhouse separated from the side that was still intact, she could burn the green while leaving the rest of the greenhouse unharmed. If she timed it right, the rain would put out the fire and spare her home.
There were a lot of things that could go wrong: the rain could put out the fire too early; it might not be enough to extinguish the flames; it might not rain at all—but she had to try. The thought of the green taking her home was almost as horrible as the thought of it burning to the ground.
Heat traveled on the breeze and surged through her veins. The salt she spread over the area sparkled and reflected the flames. The air was thick with the promise of rain, and Thea hoped it would wait a few more minutes as the fire finally reached the shrieker.
A shrill cry rose from the rubble, joined by another and then another, building beneath the pyre until it sounded as if a thousand voices were joining to call out in pain as every part of the shrieker’s body was in agony and screaming for help. Thea remembered her uncle—remembered his body jerking on the salted earth as he burned to black…
Small fingers reached for hers and she held Jojo’s hand. Wind whipped through her hair and caused the fire to dance, flames swaying back and forth. As the shrieker’s cry died and it’s body turned to ash, the fire licked the side of the greenhouse, looking for something else to consume. Thea’s heart turned cold as a tiny flame found its home on the corner of the roof.
Unable to watch her aunt’s sanctuary burn she turned to walk away, but stopped when the first drop of rain landed with a sizzle. Another followed, then another and another as the heavens opened and water spilled to the earth. At first it appeared to fuel the flame, spreading it further, but then the torrent became too much and the fire conceded defeat.
That night, Thea gathered the pictures from around her aunt’s mirror and slipped them into an envelope before taking her aunt’s silver shoes and making room for them in her pack. She knew it was silly, that they would take up valuable space, but she couldn’t leave them behind. Her aunt had promised that she would give Thea the heels for her eighteenth birthday, and though it was a few months early, she didn’t think her aunt would mind.
After making sure Jojo was settled in bed, Thea lay down in her aunt and uncle’s room. Deep in the comfort of their covers, she could smell them, feel them with her—feel their approval. They told her she was making the right decision. It was time for her to move on.
* * *
As Thea walked out of her home for the last time, she didn’t lock the door. It felt too lonely leaving the shelter to nothing, so she left it to the idea of something. She knew it was impossible for someone to find the shelter—there were too few people in the world and too many ways for the shelter to be destroyed. The green seemed to have been taken care of by yesterday’s salt and fire, but she couldn’t be sure it would stay that way. The generator could sputter to a stop at any moment… Any number of things could happen, but her heart ached as she thought of the lights coming on and no one being there to appreciate them. Would the computer know she wasn’t there? Would it keep the lights off and power down? Would it be lonely?
She knew she was being silly. It was a machine. It didn’t have feelings. Thea was the one who didn’t want to leave. She didn’t want to say goodbye to the one place she had ever felt safe and to the memories that haunted every inch of it. She didn’t want to grow up, but that wasn’t her choice anymore.
With her jaw clenched to keep tears from her eyes, she walked up the steps and over to the bikes and wagon. Jojo was already there, brushing some pollen off her bike, which was pink and purple with tassels hanging from the handlebars. Thea had taken the training wheels off a few days before and taught the girl to ride. The first time Jojo rode the bike without help she almost smiled. It had been a good moment and Thea knew there would be others. She just had to be strong and believe good times were coming.
Thea and Jojo left without looking back, pedaling down the Highway dusted with gold and following those who had gone before them—following the siren song of a better future.
Chapter Ten
A Week Later
There were three cars in the motel parking lot, each stripped of anything useful. Thea and Jojo rummaged through what remained, their backpacks jingling as their hands searched through glove compartments and side pouches. In a minivan, under one of its seats, Thea found a few picture books. With a glance at her silent companion, she took off her backpack and made room for the books inside. She had packed a few for their trip, but only one of them interested Jojo. Thea hoped some new ones might help take the girl’s mind off other things.
As she closed her bag again, Thea walked over to Jojo, who was reaching under the seat of the next car over. The girl shook her head at Thea’s unasked question. She hadn’t found anything of use either. Thea nodded, taking out her handgun and heading over to the main office of the motel. Outside the door she motioned for Jojo to stay while she searched inside, and the girl pressed herself against the side of the building, clutching her ratty stuffed dog. Her pink jumper was dirty, her blonde hair limp and clumsily braided, topped with one of Thea’s old baseball caps. Her skin had tanned and her attitude toward Thea had mellowed, but not by much.
The setting sun cast an orange glow through the large front windows but couldn’t reach the shadows. With her gun steady, Thea took the flashlight from her belt and shined it into the dark corners of the room, scanning for any monsters. Her eyes landed on a figure behind the counter and her gun snapped up, finger tense on the trigger, but she hesitated, waiting for it to move. She didn’t blink, didn’t look away as she stepped forward, shadows parting for the light she cast, revealing a robot, limp and lifeless.
Thea deflated like a balloon and almost laughed as tension left her, glad she didn’t waste a bullet on the unfortunate automaton. She had only been able to take a few boxes of ammunition with her, and it made every bullet count in a way they hadn’t before.
With the safety back on her gun, she tucked it into her belt and looked for supplies. She wasn’t expecting much, but she couldn’t pass up even the smallest possibility of finding something of use. They had enough food for a few more weeks, but she didn’t know if that would be enough. She hoped they’d find another home before they ran out—or even better, that they’d find the Pasture—but she had to consider it might take longer.
Under the chair in the back office, she found a bag of potato chips. She had only eaten processed food once before, around when she first lived with Uncle Jeremy and Aunt Emily. They had found a candy bar under a shelf in the Food Store and her uncle had given it to her. She remembered how strange
yet wonderful it was, although it made her sick. Against her better judgment, she picked up the bag and stowed it in the front pocket of her backpack. If they ran out of food to eat it would be something.
Back in the lobby, she searched for a key to one of the rooms. She had never been to a motel before but had read about them in books, so she knew they used keys, though she had no idea what they looked like. Unfortunately, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to get into a room without one. Even if the windows were glass and not plastic, breaking into a room would scatter shards everywhere, leaving an opening for anything prowling out in the darkness.
As she reached past the robot to search the space beneath the counter, Thea brushed against its side. With a jolt it sprang to life, gliding along the track attached to its torso, back and forth before snapping into place. It didn’t have legs, but it had arms and a face that wasn’t too human, keeping it endearing and not unsettling.
She jumped as its head spun toward her, eyes flickering before lighting up blue. Its mouth opened an inch before locking, its voice polite and kind as it said, “Pardon me, but I am going to have to ask you to stand on the other side of the counter.”
Thea’s body reacted on instinct, doing as she was told. The robot sputtered, its joints stiff and movements jerky. She reached forward to break off a few vines clinging to it, freeing up its range of motion.
“Thank you,” it said, mouth unmoving. “How may I assist you today?”
“I…” Thea was unsure what to say and looked over at Jojo, who was peeking in the door, for guidance, as if the girl knew more than she did. “I need a room?”
“Of course,” the robot said. “Do you have a preference?”
Thea shook her head and Jojo ventured in, stopping beside her.
“Excellent. That will be $524.99.”
“What?”
The robot jerked and spasmed, it’s body grinding to a halt. Thea and Jojo looked at each other, then back at the robot. Cautiously, Thea reached forward and tapped it on the shoulder. Nothing. She tapped it again, and it shot up straight.