Anyone?

by Scott, Angela

  He held my face between his hands, and looked at me, really looked at me. “That’s not what you’re worried about is it?”

  A little snort slipped through my lips despite my effort to force it back. It began to bud into more giggling and laughing. Could he see my pain in my eyes? Could he? Help me.

  His mouth captured my own, colliding without warning, and my laughter and hiccups vanished as surprise and disbelief rushed in to take their place. My breath hitched in my throat, but I found I didn’t mind. Not at all.

  A wonderful unexpectedness.

  Maybe I should have pushed him away, slapped him, stopped the very thing we’d told each other couldn’t happen, but I didn’t. I didn’t want it to stop. My fingers weaved themselves through his dark curls, trying to take from him as much as he was trying to take from me.

  His hands framed my face, held my neck, and the back of my head as our kiss heated and intensified—his hands always moving to hold me closer. His whiskers tickled the sensitive skin around my mouth, pleasurable and strange all at once, and the sensation of it held me captive as his hungry lips played with mine, teasing and commanding—straining, tugging, and drawing me closer and closer with his mouth, until my chest slumped against his, melding into him. Natural and effortless.

  Sensations ignited my body, heightening my senses. The world faded away, and nothing else mattered, not empty malls or looming mountains or vanishing people or haunting memories. His heart thumping against mine and his breath giving air to my lungs became my only need. Yes, I wanted this. Yes, I needed this. Right now. Right here.

  I didn’t want to lose myself again.

  But his hands slipped from my face and wrapped around mine, drawing them away from his hair. He brought our clasped hands between us, kissed my fingers, and then eased himself from me. My lips had never felt so light, as though they might float away like a single balloon released into the air.

  When he let go of my hands, I knew it was over. Whatever it was we’d started had come to an end, and that frightened me more than knowing where it could have gone.

  He avoided my eyes, and a crushing awareness crept through my veins and settled in my chest. A battle of morality wreaked havoc inside me, and as I watched him, the struggle was apparent on his sober face, too. We both felt it—a need, a want, a taboo.

  If kissing was wrong, I didn’t care. I didn’t! But I had no idea how to explain that to him. He wasn’t a bad person, if that’s what he thought, for kissing me, and I wasn’t some stupid teen girl for wanting it, but somehow it felt exactly like that.

  He lifted me from his lap and sat me at his side. He bent his legs, rested his arms across his knees, and stared at the unzipped opening, his breathing labored but slowing with each intake and release. His face said it all—he wanted me, but knew he couldn’t have me, and he was mentally beating himself up for it.

  I kept my eyes on him, not breathing, as I struggled to find the right words to explain it was okay, but a small hiccup pressed through my lips instead, breaking the lengthy silence.

  “Well”—he glanced in my direction, but didn’t really look at me—”I knew I had to do something to get you to stop being so weird.”

  Huh?

  “Glad it worked.” He stood and pushed the tent opening wide. “I think I’m going to go check out the sleeping bags now. Maybe while I’m doing that, when you’re up to it, you could look into getting us a camp stove and some water purifying tablets.”

  The tent flaps dropped into place as he disappeared from view.

  What is going on? Shouldn’t we talk or something?

  I continued to sit there, staring after him, baffled and perplexed by his words.

  Because there was no way, even if he wanted to pretend it didn’t happen, that he hadn’t felt it too.

  Cole dropped his pants in the middle of the aisle and stood there, wearing only his underwear while he flicked through a rack of athletic shorts. He grabbed one off a hanger, held it up, then tossed it to the side before looking again.

  It took every ounce of will power not to ask what he was doing, though my eyes kept wandering to him, betraying my curiosity. I wanted to talk, to ease the tension between us, but if he wanted to act as though nothing had happened, pretend the kiss had been nothing more than a ploy to get me to calm down, what else could I do?

  “Going for a run. Be back in a bit.” He slipped a pair of black shorts over his hips, grabbed a pair of running shoes off the display, and headed out into the main part of the mall. After a few minutes, the sound of his feet hitting the floor echoed along the corridor, growing more intense with each lap.

  “What am I going to do, Callie?” I held the kitten in my arms and rubbed her orange and white head. I debated whether to leave and go about finding my family on my own—it would be a lot less weird without Cole—but it would be terrifying to be alone. Not to mention a lot more dangerous.

  The pros and cons of each choice equaled out. The best solution was to go back to how things had been before—but was that even possible?

  My backpack stood ready—sleeping bag and pad, tent, synthetic clothing, water pump, camping stove, matches, first aid kit, rifle, knife, compass, map, ready-to-eat meals, flashlight, headlamp, coat, gloves, thermal underwear, and of course, socks to keep my feet dry. I had nothing left to do but wait until morning to be on my way.

  It was too early to sleep, but too late to do much of anything else. Since I didn’t relish meandering around a darkened building on my own, exploring the mall was out of the question, but sitting on my butt and listening to Cole run lap after lap around the place left much to be desired.

  Ten metal darts poked out from a dartboard on display, beckoning to me, and after I left Callie with a bowl of water and food, I removed the darts and turned them over in my hands. I pressed one sharp point to my palm, drawing a bead of blood, satisfied that they would serve my purpose.

  The intended target hung on the wall, round and waiting, but I had another target in mind. I chucked the darts, one at a time, at a stupid mannequin, aiming for its shiny faceless head. The bridge of the nose, between the eyes—perfect.

  Several stuck and a few others missed the mark altogether, but the very act of throwing sharp pointy things at an inanimate object released a lot of pent-up frustration.

  Take that!

  The mannequin began to resemble a porcupine, and I couldn’t have been happier. I’d finally found a way to deal with my feelings for Cole. Strange, but cathartic.

  I picked up the scattered darts from the floor, yanked a few others free, leaving the mannequin dotted with my precision, and decided to increase the distance to test my skill. Several steps back, I reared my arm, but just before launching another round, I caught sight of a wide-eyed figure staring through the store window. I dropped the darts, barely missing my toes.

  I stumbled backward, bumping into a table, but kept my eyes on the lanky boy, certain I had to be seeing things.

  He inched closer to the store’s opening, slowly and methodically, glancing down the mall corridor before returning his gaze to me. He didn’t come inside, but remained at the edge.

  Holy crap!

  Tufts of black hair poked out from under the rim of the skater cap he wore. His clothes hung from his thin frame, loose and baggy. Deep-set circles encased the whites of his eyes, darkening his already mocha-colored complexion. He couldn’t have been much older than I was, but he looked worn out enough to out-age me.

  I wished I could speak, scream, move, something, but Cole’s name barely passed through my lips at a whisper. Cole, Cole, Cole!

  “I’m not going to hurt you.” He peered down the breezeway in both directions as Cole’s running grew louder, his return closer with each step. “I promise.”

  “Okay.” I managed to answer.

  He nodded toward our backpacks, leaning against the checkout counter. “Where are you going?”

  “I... we’re heading to Rockport Canyon in the morning.” Why I reve
aled anything to him, I had no idea.

  “Why?” Hope, more than curiosity, clung to his one word. He leaned forward, waiting my response.

  “Because that’s where my dad said he’d be.” More answers I probably shouldn’t have been offering, but I couldn’t help myself. “I’m hoping he’s still there anyway.”

  His face fell, his glance turned from me, and I knew I hadn’t answered him in the way he’d hoped. “Oh.”

  “He’s coming back,” I said as Cole’s steps hit the final stretch.

  The boy glanced behind him before shifting and blending into the shadows, disappearing. My shoulders tensed and I took a small step. I couldn’t see him, and almost wondered if he’d left, but when I made out his faint outline, relief enveloped me. He wasn’t gone, and there was something rather comforting in knowing that.

  He didn’t say anything, and I didn’t either, not even when a shirtless Cole flew past, running at an incredible speed. Cole’s footsteps faded again, and I worried I’d made a mistake not calling after him. This boy said he wouldn’t hurt me, but still...

  His arrival was huge, and Cole should be involved, but for the moment, I wanted to keep this secret to myself. While he continued to stay hidden, I bent, grabbed a dart, and quickly returned to my regular stance with the mini-weapon tucked behind my back.

  Several seconds ticked by before he eased into the dim light, scanning the area, and watching Cole’s retreating back. “Are there any others?”

  “People?”

  He nodded.

  “No, it’s just the two of us. You?”

  He hesitated. “No. I haven’t seen anyone else.”

  “You’re all alone?”

  He pulled his cap a little lower on his head. “Yeah, it’s just me.”

  “Do you... do want something to eat?” What do people say or do in these kinds of situations? Offering food seemed like a good place to start since he looked so thin and gangly. We were strangers, but we were also part of an even stranger dilemma—me, him, Cole. “We don’t have much, but I could make you something.”

  He shook his head. “No, I’m not hungry. Thanks anyway.” He snapped his head to the side. Cole’s running grew louder. He looked at me, then back over his shoulder again.

  “It’s okay. He’s nice, well, sometimes he is. Most of the time he’s a jerk, but I—”

  He didn’t wait for me to finish, but sprinted toward our backpacks, snatched Cole’s, swung it onto his shoulder, and took off, disappearing around the corner. His footsteps hopped the stairs several at a time, skipping whole sections.

  I ran out of the store, the dart still in my hand, and leaned against the railing that looked over the first floor. The shadows swallowed him up, and I couldn’t see him anywhere. “Don’t go! Please!” Why would he do that? Take Cole’s bag and leave? Why leave at all?

  “Hey, I’m not going anywhere.” Cole swiped a hand towel across his forehead before draping it over one shoulder. “I’m here.”

  “No, not you!” I pointed over the railing below us. “Him! The boy! He... he took your bag!”

  “What?” Cole leaned over the railing too. “Where? Are you sure?”

  I nodded. “I swear!”

  “Which way?”

  I waved my arm, and he sprinted to the stairs, chasing after the only other person I’d seen in several months. The railing pressed into my belly as I leaned over it and strained to see or hear anything happening below.

  Come on, find him!

  I couldn’t make out anything in the dimness and tiny noises seemed to ricochet off the walls, sounding louder than they actually were. I had no idea what was happening.

  When Cole returned a short while later—minus a boy and a bag—my stomach coiled and melancholy settled over me. Shoot!

  He walked toward me with a look a parent gives a child caught in a lie.

  I shook my head before he could say anything. “No, I’m not making this up! You’ve got to believe me! He was right here! I’m not kidding!”

  “Tess—”

  “He had baggy clothes and a skater hat. You know the ones? They wear them all the time, even in the summer, though they look like winter hats? He seemed tired and hungry. We talked!”

  This time Cole shook his head. “Did he look like that?” He pointed to a life-sized poster of a teen boy modeling the latest rue21 clothing line. The model wore a knitted hat and baggy pants, and looked a lot like my description, except for the fact the teen on the poster was Caucasian!

  “I know the difference between a poster and a real person, Cole! Give me some credit here.”

  “I didn’t see anyone, Tess. Not a soul. It’s lonely and scary, living like this, and I can see where you might mistake a picture as a real person. The mind can be a tricky bastard sometimes, especially after the giggling fit you had. You may be experiencing some sort of residual effect here, and that’s okay. I’m not judging you.”

  No. Way. “For the last time, I saw a real person! He stood right here!” I marched over to the exact spot the boy had been standing when we spoke, and I used both hands to indicate the floor and make my point. “He took your bag. Go check for yourself!” How would he explain that? Residual effect, my behind!

  I followed him inside all the while getting the feeling he was only humoring me. Sure enough, only one bag leaned against the checkout counter.

  “There! See? I told you! No poster could’ve made that happen.”

  He took a deep breath and let it out slowly before giving me a stern look which reminded me a bit like my father. Yikes! “This isn’t a game, Tess. What did you do with my things?”

  My eyes widened. “What? I didn’t... are you accusing me?” I threw my hands in the air. “I didn’t do this!”

  “And I suppose you didn’t do that either, right?” He nodded toward the mannequin with a few darts still lodged in its head.

  “That I admit to, yes, but I didn’t take your bag!” I exaggerated each word as though he were hard of hearing, because apparently he was!

  “Okay, I get it. I get you’re mad at me, but now you’re being childish, and I don’t appreciate it.”

  “Childish?”

  “Yeah.” He stepped closer to me. “You’re a kid and you’re acting an awful lot like one. And that is why, this”—he moved his hand between us—”can never happen. You get it?”

  So he had felt it? But I didn’t have time to think about it, because he had everything wrong. I didn’t take his bag. I wasn’t a crazy person who talked to posters!

  “I’m going to go get ready for bed, because this has been a very weird day and I’m tired. While I’m doing that, you’re going to get my bag and put it back next to yours.” He started walking toward the clothing racks, but turned and looked at me as he shrugged. “Unless you don’t want me helping you anymore. Just let me know, because I’m good either way.”

  Screw this! Screw him!

  If I hadn’t run into Cole several days before—Has it really only been several days? It feels so much longer—I would have been on my own anyway, surviving and searching for Dad and Toby myself. Did I need him?

  No.

  No, I didn’t.

  I kept feeding myself that big lie, hoping to embody the bravery I lacked and desperately needed, especially for what I intended to do.

  I slipped the straps of my backpack over my shoulder, grabbed Callie’s leash, and walked straight out of the store. Yeah, the sun was setting, and yeah, I didn’t have much of a plan beyond getting away from Cole and leaving his jack-assery behind, but it didn’t matter. I was so over this.

  Survival was mostly about winging it anyway, right? I took a deep breath and released it. I sure hoped so.

  “That’s it, huh? No goodbye?” He stood nonchalantly near the door, his hands tucked into the front pockets of his camouflage cargo pants. His shoulders rolled forward and relaxed, as if a burden had been lifted from them. Maybe it had.

  “Yeah, I guess so.” I kept walking, heading fo
r the same set of stairs the mysterious boy had used earlier. Cole had never really wanted to help me—I’d coerced him into it with my tears—so now I released him of his obligation. He was free.

  He followed me but kept his distance, moving slowly, and taking one step for my eager two. “You going to be okay on your own?”

  “Yep.” I avoided his eyes as I bent and scooped Callie into my arms, deciding that letting her walk would hinder my quick escape. She had a habit of stopping to lick her paws every few feet, and I didn’t need that. No more distractions. No more dawdling. I wanted a clean break from him before I changed my mind.

  “Do you have everything you need?” He leaned against the railing, his hands dangling over the side, and watched me descend the stairs.

  “Yep.”

  “Tess?”

  “Yeah?” I shifted the irritated cat to my other arm and fixed the backpack strap that kept slipping down my shoulder. Hiking with a bulging backpack that didn’t want to stay put and a feisty cat would be interesting.

  He didn’t say anything for a moment, forcing me to glance up at him. “I’m sorry... about everything.”

  He looked sincere, but that didn’t mean I planned to forget this whole thing or that I wanted to deal with him any longer. From the moment we’d met, our relationship had been nothing but aggravation and annoyance. He wanted to be on his own, live without people, and the more I had gotten to know him, the more I agreed he probably should. His people skills sucked.

  “I’m sorry, too.” I turned away and took the rest of the steps to the bottom floor. Yes, this was for the best. We were the least compatible people I had ever met—always fighting and getting on each other’s nerves. We definitely did not belong together, regardless of the disastrous situation. An apocalypse wasn’t an excuse for two people to stay together anyway—though, what better excuse was there? I shook my head. Whatever.