by Greene, Dane
Seeing no reason to delay any longer, I say goodbye to Sarah, and Alexis and I leave the apartment.
As we move through the abandoned town full of trash and memories, I force myself to stay focused, knowing that a single mistake could lead to my death. The town is quiet and empty, and I realize as we walk that this is the farthest I’ve been from the apartment since we first came here.
We run across several Palemen, but they are always distracted and oblivious to our presence. Using her spear or bow, Alexis kills every one she runs across. She’s very effective, and I can tell that she’s been practicing. The sound of dogs howling at night suddenly makes sense. I’m sure they’ve been very well fed thanks to Alexis.
Suddenly, Alexis stops and holds her hand up to her mouth in a gesture of silence. Stopping instinctively, I look toward an abandoned theater that Alexis is moving toward. Before I can wonder why we’ve stopped, I hear a crash come from inside.
Not knowing what’s going on, I follow Alexis as she shimmies her way through the partially blocked theater door. The squeeze is tight, but we both make it through a gap and into what looks like manmade fortifications. Both Alexis and I stand still, letting our eyes adjust to the dim light.
As I look around, I see trash, graffiti, and decay. This theater was closed long before the power went out, and I can tell. Cracks line the walls and foundations. Trash is everywhere, and in one corner, there’s a mattress. Before I can take in any more of my surroundings, there’s a high-pitched feminine scream that echoes through the lobby. From the sound of the scream, it seems like it might be coming from the back of the lobby on the left side, and instinct tells me it’s coming from one of the theaters.
Both Alexis and I start moving toward the source of the scream as quickly as possible. I’m glad she realizes how foolish it would be to run through the trash and junk of this lobby. A single prick from a needle, or even a rusty nail, would spell death for us.
Luckily, when we reach the back of the lobby, I can see that there are only two theaters—one on the left and one on the right. We come up to the theaters’ doorway. Around it, lumber that looks freshly broken is scattered on the ground. Through the door, I can see five Palemen moving toward a woman and man at the back of the theater. I freeze, but thankfully, Alexis doesn’t. She brings two down with arrows and runs a third down with a spear as she makes her way toward the people in the back of the theater. I follow, not wanting to be far from her protection.
As we approach the two people, I notice that there’s a man using the woman as a shield. Two Palemen are closing in on them, and Alexis will only be able to get to one before they reach the couple.
“Wouaaa.” The sounds of a baby crying fill my ears, and I realize that the woman is fiercely hugging a bundle that must contain her child. What I must do hits me, and without even thinking, I run past Alexis and slam my body into one of the Palemen, hoping Alexis will be able to kill the other one. My hope was to knock it over, but I feel the creature grab me, and I lose my balance.
We both tumble to the ground, but luckily, it loses its grip. It is only inches away from me, and I only have seconds to react. I fumble with a knife pouch and pull out my knife. I flip my body to face the Paleman and see it above me, about to lunge. As the creature swings its mouth down toward me, I throw my knife up under its jaw and feel the blade slide into the soft tissue. Blood seeps out as I watch the creature stop moving and the life drain from its eyes.
I twist as the body falls, forcing it to land by my side instead of on top of me. Sliding the knife out of the creature, I stand and see Alexis with her bow drawn and pointed at the two survivors. She looks at me out of the corner of her eyes.
“You okay?”
I nod and am about to ask her why she has the bow pointed at the couple when she says, “Alright, I want you two to separate and stand against the wall. Tell me your story. I have no intention of hurting you, but if you try to rush me, I’ll fire.” The two people stay frozen, and a whimper of pain comes from the woman holding a child.
“Please,” the woman begins to say, but her sentence ends with a soft cry, and I see the man has her arm twisted behind her.
“Shut up, bitch! You ain’t doing nothing,” the man says. “Here’s what’s happening. You’re gonna give me the baby, and I’m g’tting’ out. Shit, this ain’t even worth the meal.”
As he says this, I’m confused until I see a man’s body lying a few feet from us. He’s obviously not a Paleman. A pool of what looks like fresh blood lies under the body, and I realize this man must have been murdered by the person now holding the woman and her child hostage. I don’t understand why he would want to take the baby or why he made a comment about it not being worth a meal—unless the two were connected. My stomach sours, and I’m filled with unbelief and horror.
Twang. I hear the bowstring and see an arrow sprout from the man’s neck. He instinctively reaches up to his throat, and when he does, the woman runs from him. The man wears a look of confusion as he falls to his knees. Before he understands what happened, Alexis drives her spear through his eye.
When she said she would take care of people who tried to hurt others, I didn’t think she meant this, but it makes sense. This world has no jails, and you can’t banish someone and trust that they’ll leave. The only way to handle someone who’s harmful to others is by execution.
As I look over to the girl, I can see that she’s quite clearly terrified. I realize that both Alexis and I are armed, so I put my knife back into the pouch.
“It’s okay. We are here to help. I promise we won’t hurt you. Is your baby okay?”
The woman still looks hesitant, but I think she realizes that there’s nowhere else to go.
“He’s okay, but he’s been a bit yellow for a few weeks. My husband found someone who said they could help, and he brought him here, and now he’s dead.” The woman starts crying, and I approach her. She no longer seems afraid of me, so I step forward and look at her baby. From what I can see of its face and pupils, I think the child has some jaundice. Simple enough to treat. All she needs is a few hours of sunlight.
The woman leans into me, and I find myself hugging her, the baby now silent between us. She weeps openly, and all I can hope is that Alexis is watching the door.
We help the woman move to another room so she doesn’t have to be next to her dead husband, and over several hours, we share our stories. Like us, the woman and her husband found shelter. They ran out of food around the same time the child was born and became desperate for help, which led the husband to look for others. After telling her our story and what happened to my husband, she agrees to come back with us to the apartments. The baby quickly recovers with Alexis’s and my care, and after a week or two, the woman starts to recover as well.
As the weeks pass by, Alexis and I find more and more people to join our community, and it slowly grows. We start to use the building around us, and bridges connect us to the rooftops and upper floors of the former downtown area. After a few months, the place becomes a little raised town with around fifty inhabitants.
Things run smoothly, and Alexis even creates a police force of sorts, which protects everyone. It’s hard to believe that not long ago, we were all alone and there was no hope. I find that I’m becoming happy again, and I hold pride in what I, Alexis, and the others of this town have built. I know my husband would be proud of what we have done.
That’s why when Alexis tells me she plans to leave, I don’t understand. After she explained that she wanted to go looking for her brother and the others, and possibly create more communities like this, I understand. Looking at my adopted daughter, I’m filled with pride. We share our final goodbyes, and I see her off. Half the town is with us, so there’s no time to say private words.
She’s younger than me, but without her, I would never have held hope in my heart again. Now I know I was wrong, and I know that, someday, I’ll see her again. So maybe this isn’t a goodbye so much as a farewell for now.
Chapter 16: Aaron
August 5th
The bright sun shines through the colored vinyl of my tent. I stare at it for a while, not quite wanting to get up yet. Next to me, Evelyn sleeps and I hear her calm, steady breaths. When I look to my other side, I notice Sophia and am confused until I recall the events of the past few days.
I turn onto my side and look at her. As she sleeps, she twitches, and I can see that she’s in the grip of some dream. When I look closer, I notice she’s sweaty and looks upset. Thinking she’s having a nightmare, I’m about to try to wake her up when her eyes shoot open. They are like the gaze of a snake hunting its prey. Pure hatred and blood lust emanate from them, and I’m frozen in fear as I lock eyes with Sophia.
After a second, though, her gaze grows softer and confused. Quietly, I whisper to her, forgetting the murderous gaze she gave me a second ago.
“Are you okay?”
Sophia looks around and takes a deep breath. She nods, telling me she’s fine. She smiles and rolls over. I decide to give her some space and leave the tent to avoid waking the still-sleeping Evelyn.
Once outside of the tent, I decide to look for whoever was on last watch. If I remember, it should be Melany and Jason. The search takes almost no time, and I find them next to the camp stove. A pot of something that smells like pine needles is brewing. When I get closer, they offer me a cup. Wanting something to warm me up, I take it.
When I sip the tea, I taste what seems like pine needles. The warmth spreads through me and chases off the morning chill. We sit around the camp stove, silent in the somber mood of the morning.
After about thirty minutes, I’m more energized than I’ve been in weeks. The feeling seems somewhat familiar, and I realize I’m getting a caffeine rush. I look at Melany and Jason, and they seem wide awake despite having been up for hours.
“What did you guys put in this tea?”
They both look at me and laugh as if they are part of some joke. “One of the things Jason’s picked up along the way was a field and plant guide. In it, he found that some varieties of holly have caffeine in them. We found one of the plants, and Jason and I worked on drying and preserving it into this tea. It’s a combination of holly and pine needles. It tastes pretty good, and the effects are the same as coffee, if not better. We have a cutting of the holly plant that we took, so when we do make it to the island, we’ll be able to farm it. We have about two pounds of the tea to last until then.”
I smile and take another sip. This is good. We’ve all missed the effects of caffeine. Having it again should increase our ability to do late-night watches. Having heightened awareness is always welcome.
We spend a few minutes talking and joking, the mood lightened by the holly brew. After talking for a few minutes, though, the conversation veers when Jason says, “So, it’s time we map out our route, make copies, and pass them out to everyone. We’ve been lucky so far that we haven’t been separated from each other, but we should plan for that possibility.” I agree and pull out an atlas. Not until I have the map out in front of me do I realize that I have no idea where we are.
“Do you know where we are?” I ask.
Jason points at the map while talking to me. “Well, we walked about ten miles north of downtown Chicago, so we would be about here.” His finger points to the town of Evanston, Illinois.
When I study the map, I see that Beaver Island is far to the northeast, and there’s quite a bit of water between us. Going across the lake and into Wisconsin and then following the coast until we can’t anymore would be the best way to do it. As I look at the map, I realize how foolish it was for us to go through Chicago, but there’s no changing that now.
“Alright, so I’m thinking that we want to avoid all major cities, am I right?” Both Jason and Melany nod their agreement. “We should follow this coast and try to find a boat that will get us across. We’ll avoid going into Milwaukee unless it’s the only option for a boat. From there, we’ll cut northeast and land far north of Grand Rapids. From the look of the atlas, we should be able to walk along the coast or even sail up to this town here.” I point to a small town called Northport at the very edge of a peninsula.
Jason seems hesitant and asks, “Even if we do find a seaworthy boat along the coast, do you think we’ll be able to get it to the Michigan coast? The lake is about fifty miles wide, and I’d rather not take a huge gamble getting across.”
“It’s our only option. We don’t have the time or luck to go the long way back through Chicago. I’m sure we can find some sailing books where we find a boat. Even if we do horribly and move at a snail’s pace, it’s not like we’ll be in any danger. There’s no way the Palemen are coordinated enough to swim. They would drown in any water deep enough to submerge them.”
“But do you think we can go fifty miles without running into trouble with the lake?” Jason asks. “What if there’s a storm? None of us have experience handling a boat in any kind of water, much less in rough conditions. Yes, the lack of Palemen is nice, but the lake is a fearsome adversary.”
Jason is right: Melany and I have both been on the ocean in several different boats, though we were too young to take part in their operation. “We don’t have zero boat experience,” I say. “Both Melany and I have been on the ocean on several boats. True, we didn’t operate the boats, but you’re afraid of the unknown here. I’m telling you there’s nothing to be afraid of.”
“Aaron, there are huge differences between being on a boat and operating one. If we get caught in a storm and don’t know what we’re doing, we could end up slammed into rocks or shipwrecked in the middle of the Great Lakes. We wouldn’t be the first ship to be sunken by the lakes. Most of the others were sailed by experienced sailors.”
Jason isn’t wrong, but he’s overreacting. Fifty miles might seem like a long way, but we could paddle that far in a few days. “You’re right. Weather is a danger on the open water, but we can predict the weather for at least one day. As long as we move a half mile an hour, which I’m pretty sure we could do, we’ll make it across that fifty miles in two days. We’d only have to risk not knowing the weather for one day, and I say that’s safer than we’ve been in months.” Jason still seems apprehensive, but I can tell that I’ve won him over to some degree.
“Okay,” he says. “It’s a good plan. I just wanted everyone to be aware of the risk. I suppose we should make some copies of this route and pass them out to everyone.”
We get to work mapping out our route. After we’re all happy with the first map, we make enough copies to pass out to everyone. We pass them out with a cup of hot holly tea, and everyone is excited about both. Soon after everyone finishes their tea, we pack up and get moving.
The journey through the outskirts of Chicago is uneventful. We rarely run into any Palemen. The city is empty and eerie. I imagine that the three generals and the battle in Chicago must have all but wiped out any population in the area.
For the first time since the epidemic, I’m left to wonder what we’ll do after the Paleman threat is gone. Without power and with a fraction of the population that we once had, there will be no returning to our old lives. Sophia and I talk while we travel, and we grow closer.
She’s the only one I’m not worried about showing weakness to. She’s seen my dark side and still trusts and respects me.
As we travel up the coast, we have a difficult time finding a ship that’s in sailing condition. When the infection started to spread, I’m sure people panicked. Trying to escape, they must have taken any boats they could. Luckily, the extra days we take in finding a ship help settle our worries about sailing. Though we don’t find any sailing-worthy boats, we manage to find several dry-docked and broken boats, along with some sailing how-to books. We manage to learn everything we need to by the time we find a ship that’s seaworthy.
In a town called Kenosha, we finally find a boat that’s viable. The only thing it’s missing is a sail. After talking, everyone decides that making or findin
g a sail would be easy enough. As we search for the sail, we fix up a few minor issues with the boat.
Today is the day we plan to launch it. We found a sail in a warehouse but wanted to wait until the daytime to break into it. Dawn and Sophia decided to be the ones who grabbed the sails, while the rest of us did the final checks on the ship. As soon as they return, we’ll raise the sail and be on our way.
After a final run-through, I take up watch, waiting for the girls to return. Someone startles me by tapping my shoulder, and when I turn around, I see that it’s Melany.
“Hey, Aaron, do you have a minute? I want to talk to you.” I don’t know what she could want, but there’s no reason for me to say no.
“Yeah, no problem. What’s up, sis?”
“Well, I was thinking. What happens when we get to the island? What I mean is, say this place is safe. Won’t the people have been sheltered from the chaos? If so, won’t they think we’re a bunch of kids?”
I’m a bit confused. We’ve been through so much that it hadn’t dawned on me that others might only look at our age. “You could be right,” I say, “but what’s the alternative? If we want to rejoin civilization, we’ll have to blend in.”
“But, Aaron, can you go back to being a kid? I mean—” Melany is cut off by Brian, who’s shouting from the other side of the ship.
“Aaron, Melany! Sophia and Dawn are in trouble. Hurry!” Our conversation ends immediately, and we look out to where Brian is pointing. Around three hundred yards out from us, there seems to be a group of people. In front are two figures who I’m certain are Dawn and Sophia.
“Melany, I need you to use your camera. Tell us what’s behind them.”
Melany nods and grabs a camera and lens from her bag. After a second, she focuses and starts to tell us what’s going on. “It looks like they might have run into locals. There’s some people chasing them.” She pauses and lowers her camera before looking through it again. “I don’t know how or why, but one of the men is holding on to a chain with a Paleman on the end. The man is so pale.”