The Last Place on Earth

by Carol Snow

  I looked up from taking notes. “She didn’t like me very much.”

  He shook his head. “It’s nothing personal. She doesn’t like anyone.”

  He smiled. I smiled back.

  “I’m an only child,” he said.

  I nodded.

  “Don’t take it personally,” he said.

  “Okay.”

  Later, he told me how both of his parents survived childhoods stained by abandonment, illness, alcoholism, and even suicide. Both worked hard at careers they disliked so they would never, ever be poor again. Both believed that the only person you can rely on is yourself—which may be why their relationship seemed more like a business partnership than a marriage. But most of all, both would do anything to keep their son happy, healthy, and safe.

  And so they let me come over to their house, and they let Henry come over to mine, because our friendship made him happy (even though they wished he’d branch out). And because I brought him his homework when his delicate health made school attendance risky. But mostly because as tough as they were on themselves and the rest of the world, neither one could say no to Henry.

  That was the one thing we had in common.

  Twenty-Seven

  IT WAS THE dead of night when Kirsten kicked the bottom of my bunk, rousing me from a really good dream about eating Korean tacos at the mall. Which could never happen in real life, because there is no Korean taco stand at the mall!

  “Huh?”

  “It’s Henry. Outside.” Kirsten was out of her bed, pulling on a sweatshirt.

  At dinner, Henry had whispered something about late-night lookout duty, but engaging in hand-to-hand combat with Tuck during bath time had drained me. I’d collapsed into a deep, grimy sleep as soon as my head hit my crappy flat pillow.

  I sat up too quickly and whacked my head on the metal roof. “Ow!”

  “Watch your head,” Kirsten said.

  “Gee, thanks.” I slid off the bunk.

  “I’m coming with you.” Footsteps light, Kirsten made her way to the front of the bus and opened the door with just the slightest creak. And then she was out.

  When Henry saw her he whispered, “What are you doing here? Are you going to tell your parents on us?”

  “Yeah, right.” She thrust her hands into her green cargo pants and strode toward the gate. Her pale hair rippled in the moonlight.

  With no clouds drifting in front of the half-moon, the night was brighter than before, but the sounds and shadows on our walk through the forest still creeped me out. Was that a bear I heard? A mountain lion? I wanted to take Henry’s hand for comfort, but that would be weird. Instead, I kept as close to him as I could.

  My black harem pants snagged on a bush; I yanked at them. The bush rustled.

  Ahead of me, Henry halted. “You okay?”

  I freed the fabric, taking a few prickers along with it. “I’m good.” I shivered in the cool night air; too bad I’d cut the sleeves off the black knit shirt.

  At last, the lookout tower came into sight. Lights twinkled from the window.

  “Wait here.” Henry motioned for Kirsten to hold back, then he hauled himself up the ladder and through the door. After a moment, he appeared on the deck and gestured for us to follow him.

  Kyle and Gwendolyn sat in the armchairs, looking out the window. Their eyes were glazed as if they were watching YouTube and not the night sky. A whiff of cigarette smoke hung in the air.

  “This is like a party,” Kirsten said.

  Her brother snorted. “Wild times on the compound.”

  “We were just talking,” Gwendolyn said to no one in particular.

  “Was anyone else on patrol duty with you?” Henry asked Kyle.

  “Martin was supposed to be here,” Kyle said. “But so weird, he didn’t show up.” He laughed.

  “Shut up,” Gwendolyn said.

  “Just messin’ with you. Not your fault your brother is too good to work.” Kyle leaned over and gave Gwendolyn’s arm a playful smack. In doing so, his foot shot out to one side, knocking over a bottle previously hidden from view.

  “Oops.” Kyle picked up the bottle. “Good thing it’s empty.”

  Gwendolyn giggled.

  “What was in there?” Henry asked.

  “Mooooooonshine.” Kyle stretched his arms up to the ceiling.

  “I don’t think so.” Henry bent over to retrieve the bottle. He checked the label. “Napa Valley port. My parents were saving this for a special occasion.”

  Kyle grinned. “Can’t think of anything specialer than the end of civilization.”

  Henry placed the bottle back on the floor. “They’re going to be pissed if they find out you took it. But whatever. I don’t care.”

  “Who’s gonna tell ’em?”

  Henry shrugged. “Not me.”

  “Not me,” Kirsten echoed.

  Kyle set his cool gaze on me. “Emo girl?”

  I tugged at the cherry-red ends of my hair. “I am not emo. I’m just … me. And I’m not going to tattle, not that anyone would listen to me, anyway.”

  Kirsten picked up the bottle. “It’s kind of pretty. Too bad we can’t use it for a vase or something.”

  “Kyle’s gonna bury it.” Gwendolyn was slurring her words.

  “Eventually,” he said.

  Gwendolyn turned in her chair. “You gotta get ridda it now! No one can know I’ve been drinking!”

  “Drinking and smoking,” Kyle said. “Big night for our little Gwennie.”

  “You promised you wouldn’t tell!” she said. “Smoking’s even worse than drinking because my dad keeps talking about fire danger and—”

  “Relax,” he said. “I’m not gonna tell. And all the evidence will be gone by morning. But … hey. It sure is a pretty bottle. Why not have a little more fun with it?”

  Kyle placed the bottle on the fake grass carpet and flicked his wrist. The bottle spun for one and a half wobbly rounds. Kyle grinned.

  Spin the bottle. Oh my God. No way was I kissing Kyle. But Kyle couldn’t kiss his sister, and if he wanted to make out with Gwendolyn, he would have done it earlier.

  But I was in luck. Kyle had another game in mind.

  “Truth or dare. Who’s in?”

  “I’m in!” Kirsten plopped down on the floor and crossed her legs, waiting.

  I caught Henry’s eye. He lifted one shoulder as if to say, What do you want to do?

  In response, I lifted a shoulder, too, as if to say, I’m in if you’re in.

  “Sure, why not,” Henry said.

  We pushed the armchairs against the wall, and the five of us sat in a tight circle on the fake grass carpet. Kyle retrieved a magazine to place under the bottle. I checked the title: American Warrior. Naturally.

  Kyle spun first. It landed on Gwendolyn.

  “Truth or dare?”

  Her eyes darted left and right. “Truth,” she said, finally.

  Kyle tapped a finger on his cheek, considering the possibilities. “What is the worst thing you’ve ever done?”

  Gwendolyn bit her lip. She looked scared, which was ridiculous. What could she have possibly done? Messed up a turn on her drill routine?

  “I cheated on a test,” she said at last.

  “You need to be more specific.”

  “Math. It was math.”

  “Still more specific.”

  Her lip trembled. “It was our algebra final. Last year. This girl I knew, she was a senior, and she was helping the teacher out—grading papers and stuff. She got ahold of the test, the answer key, too. And she copied it for, like, six of us.”

  “That test was graded on a curve!” I burst out. Gwendolyn and I had been in the same algebra class. I got a B-minus on the final, which had dropped my semester grade from an A-minus to a B-plus.

  “I had a C going in!” Gwendolyn wailed. “I needed a good grade on the final! I needed an A!” She was working hard to keep from slurring her words.

  I said, “That’s no excuse.”

&
nbsp; She opened her mouth, started to say something, and then stopped, took a deep breath, and nodded her head. A tear slid down her cheek.

  “Um, a bit of perspective?” Kyle said. “Grades don’t matter no more. Spin, Gwennie.”

  She did. It landed on Henry.

  “Truth.”

  “Um…” She wiped her face. “Have you ever kissed anyone?”

  “Lame,” Kyle said.

  “Fine. You ever made out with anybody?”

  “Still lame,” Kyle said.

  I thought, Of course Henry has never kissed anyone. He would have told me.

  “Yes,” Henry said.

  I swiveled my head to look at him, but he just hugged his knees and stared at the ground.

  “Specifics,” Kyle said.

  “Her name was…” He paused. “Hannah.”

  “Hannah Branson?” Gwendolyn said.

  He nodded.

  “At Winter Formal?” My voice sounded tenser than I intended.

  “Well, yeah, then and…” His voice trailed off.

  “And when?”

  “There were a couple … a few other times. I went to her house to study once, and there was this time in the hall after school.…” He hugged his knees tighter.

  I couldn’t believe this. “So—three times?”

  “Maybe a couple more than that,” he mumbled.

  “Oh.”

  I don’t care, I told myself, even though my stomach burned with … what? Jealousy? Disappointment? Henry and I were never a couple. He was free to go out with whomever he chose, even if it was someone shallow and nasty like Hannah freaking Branson.

  Kyle said, “Did you just make out, or—”

  “We just made out.”

  Kyle sighed with disappointment. “Fascinating. Spin, Henry.”

  Henry flicked his wrist, and the bottle made a wobbly half turn, landing on Kyle.

  “Decisions, decisions,” Kyle said. “Your dare would be lame. Let’s go with truth.”

  Henry rolled his eyes. He just wanted to get this over with. “Okay, what’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?”

  “You need to be more specific.”

  “You weren’t more specific when you asked Gwendolyn the same question.”

  “That’s because I knew she wouldn’ta done anything really bad.”

  “Fine. Then what’s the worst … crime you’ve ever committed?”

  “You’re that sure I’ve broken the law.”

  “Yes.”

  Kyle grinned. “You’re right. Not a lotta times, but … oh, what to choose, what to choose?” He looked at the ceiling and bobbed his head from one side to the other, thinking. “I gotta go with the time I burned down a house.”

  “Seriously?” Gwendolyn said. That sobered her up. Sort of.

  “It didn’t burn all the way to the ground,” Kyle said. “’Cause the firefighters got there in time. But it had to be knocked down after that.” He spun the bottle with a flourish. It landed on Henry again.

  “We’re not done yet,” Henry said. “Where was the house?”

  “Temecula?” Kirsten piped in, a touch of fear in her voice.

  “Yup.”

  “But you said—”

  “It was an accident,” Kyle said. “I’m not an arsonist or anything. But this friend of mine—we weren’t really friends, he was kind of a dirtbag—this guy I knew, his family had a cabin, but they were out of town, so I kind of … let myself in. And I was messing around and, yeah. It caught on fire.”

  “What were you messing around with?” Henry asked.

  “Gasoline and rags.” Kyle threw his head back and laughed. “Kidding! Jeez—if you could see your faces! It was an electrical fire. I put a piece of bread in the toaster—well, it was more like a roll. I kind of had to force it in. Then I went into the other room to watch TV. They had this sweet setup, big-screen TV, surround sound—that’s the only reason I went over in the first place. I start watching HBO, and I forget about the toast. It caught on fire and … whaddaya want me to do? Call the fire department and say I’d broken into this house?”

  “The police came to talk to us,” Kirsten muttered.

  “And then we moved,” Kyle said. “The next day. Temecula was getting old, anyway. Not that Anaheim was any better. So, my man Henry—truth or dare, what’ll it be?”

  “Dare.” Henry glared across the circle.

  Kyle grinned. “Go back to the compound and set fire to the house.”

  Henry continued to glare.

  “Kidding! Jeez. I can’t believe we are the last people on earth, and I am stuck with you people.”

  “We are not the last people on earth,” Gwendolyn said.

  “Not yet.” Kyle grinned. “Henry. I’ll make this easy on you. Now that we know you’re such a make-out artist, let’s see you in action.”

  I swallowed hard. I didn’t want Henry to kiss me, not here, anyway. If only I had let him kiss me that time at the pond. If only …

  “Kiss Gwendolyn,” Kyle commanded. “For a full minute. After that we’ll get bored.”

  My mouth dropped open. I waited for Henry to protest.

  Gwendolyn sighed and crawled on all fours into the middle of the circle. “Less juss get this over with.”

  Henry froze for a moment and then he was all action, lunging into the center of the circle and taking Gwendolyn in his arms. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. For a moment I forgot to breathe. I scrambled to my feet and stumbled out of the room, onto the platform. The moon was so bright, it was almost like daylight. I dropped to my knees and put my feet on the ladder.

  “Daisy, wait.” Henry appeared at the door.

  I scrambled down the ladder, jumping past the last few rungs and stumbling on the prickly ground before bounding toward the forest, away from the compound, away from Henry. It didn’t matter where I was going as long as I wasn’t here.

  “Daisy, stop!” He was behind me.

  I picked up my pace for a moment, but then I was in a stand of trees, and it was dark, and I couldn’t find a path. I held my arms out in front of me, picking around branches, crunching through dead underbrush, hoping I didn’t walk into something awful.

  “You’ll get lost!” he said.

  “So?”

  “You could starve to death.”

  “I will not starve to death,” I said with conviction. “I would die of dehydration first. You should know that, Henry. You’re supposed to be so smart.”

  A branch scraped my cheek. I pushed on.

  “I didn’t want to kiss her!” he called out.

  “Who? Gwendolyn? Or Hannah?”

  “Gwendolyn. It was just—it felt like a challenge. Like I had no choice. Kyle never would have let it go.”

  “Since when do you care what other people think?”

  “Since I’ve been trapped in this horrible place, where I can’t get away from anybody. The only thing that’s kept me going is you. It was just a kiss!”

  “Just.”

  “You’ve probably been kissed lots of times before.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “I would have told you. I tell you everything.”

  “You mean you’ve never…”

  “Let’s just go back.” I almost said go home. Because that was what I wanted to do. What I had to do.

  Henry took a few steps toward me, paused, and then took a few steps more until he was an arm’s length away. “Do you want me to kiss you?”

  “What?”

  “Maybe now’s not the best time.”

  I had nothing to say to that. Instead, I walked around him, back into the small clearing where the lookout tower stood. He followed me, but when I finally spoke, I didn’t face him.

  “I’m leaving, Henry. Not tonight, because you’re right, I’d get lost. But tomorrow, when it’s light, I’m out of here.”

  “Please, don’t.”

  “My mother and brother are out there. Even if your parents have blown everything out of proportion,
which I’m assuming they have, I can’t just stay here. If there’s anything I can do for my mother and my brother, I’m going to do it.”

  “We can help them,” Henry said. “From here. We’ll get a message to them.”

  “You said that yesterday, but you haven’t done anything. Besides, what good will that do?” My voice rose. “They can’t just shut themselves up in the house. My mother has to go to work. They’ll have to buy groceries.” I stopped speaking because I was afraid I would cry.

  Henry came over, and I let him take me in his arms. I hugged him back and let my tears drip down his neck.

  His breath was warm against my ear. “Martin leaves the compound about once a week. He drives just close enough to civilization to check on news reports. I used his phone to text you.”

  “But what good will it do to send them a message? They can’t come here. So what am I supposed to say—that this horrible disease is spreading and good luck to them?”

  “No. I’ve thought about it. They can go to my house and wait this thing out. Peter’s been in there already, right? Will he remember the security codes?”

  “Probably not.”

  Henry said, “We can text them. The house has food and water, an air-filtration system, a bunch of medical supplies. They can live there for at least a month, probably two, without leaving.”

  I took a step back and looked at his face. Those sharp eyes set a little too close together, the straight eyebrows, the mouth that turned at the very corners.

  “I don’t trust you anymore,” I said.

  “I know. And I don’t blame you. But this is the only chance, Daisy. If you go back … you could die. You could all die.”

  I nodded. Henry was right. I had no other choice.

  Twenty-Eight

  DAYS PASSED. HENRY worked in the garden or tended the bees while I took care of Tuck and Sassy. And by took care of, I mean was abused by, at least in the case of Tuck, who screamed, “GO AWAY!” every time he saw me and never passed up an opportunity to kick my shins or smack my face with his fat, sticky palm.

  Gwendolyn and Martin spent their days upstairs, studying for tests they would probably never take. Their father drove off in his big pickup truck one morning. When he returned, he headed upstairs with the Hawkings. Later, I snuck into the bonus room. They’d given up on pushpins. Instead, there were numbers scrawled across the continents: 97,992 in North America, 27,133 in Europe, 175,114 in Asia.