“Good luck,” he called.
“Thanks.” I kept walking toward the broken doors, stepping over the shattered glass, and made my way outside.
I stood there for several minutes, breathing in the cool evening air, and gathering courage. Don’t think about dead people or tornados or climbing mountains on your own. Don’t think at all. Thinking would only get me into trouble.
The street lights would normally have started to turn on about this time, but of course the few upright lampposts remained unlit. Papers and dried leaves tumbled with the warm breeze across the partially empty parking lot. Adjacent buildings fell into thick shadows. I wasn’t brave and I had no idea what to do next except place one foot in front of the other.
I began walking.
I left the mall and Cole, and refused to look back.
And as for luck, I would probably need as much of it as I could get.
Nowhere was safe. Not really. Anything could happen—I’d been witness to it—but with darkness creeping in and sounds starting to play tricks on my ears, I needed to find a place to sleep for the night before going full-out crazy. Perhaps I should have stayed at the mall until morning, but I hadn’t trusted myself to still have the courage to leave once the sun rose.
Impulsive? Smart? I wasn’t sure.
At this point, I couldn’t go back. Okay, I could, but I refused. My impulsive decision must have been more than an act of stupidity.
Callie snuggled against my shoulder and tucked herself under my chin. Her sleepy purrs and warm fur weighed my eyes down, and though I hadn’t walked more than a handful of miles from East End Mall, and the surrounding area appeared to have been hit by a bomb—tornado, meteor, who could tell anymore?—I couldn’t go on.
Most of the homes in the area looked as though they’d topple to the ground if I sneezed funny. Quite a few others had already met their demise and lay in heaps of rubble mixed with personal belongings—a shirt, a doll, family pictures in broken frames, and a pair of kid’s shoes.
A modular home didn’t look half-bad, weird it was still intact, but the simple act of pushing the door open started a domino effect of destruction. The back portion of the roof caved in, the walls collapsed, and I barely had enough time to jump off the porch before the entire thing imploded, sending up a cloud of dust and debris.
Jeez. Way too close. And way too visual.
I lay sprawled on the dying lawn and couldn’t help but glance over my shoulders. The roads and side streets remained empty. No Cole.
Good, I convinced myself and sighed. That settled things. If there had ever been a time for him to show himself, come to my rescue, this would have been it. Only, he hadn’t. My stomach hurt a little, knowing Cole hadn’t bothered to stop me from leaving and hadn’t even followed me, but I forced myself to take it as a sign I had done the right thing by leaving.
I brushed myself off and made sure Callie was fine before moving on. The farther I walked, circling blocks and meandering through ruined subdivisions, the heavier my decision felt. Being on my own had never seemed so hard, especially when I couldn’t find a safe place to rest.
Another mile of walking in a sleepy daze didn’t prove much better. Whole areas had been decimated, several miles wide, and that many more miles long, as though a giant hand had swiped civilization clean.
I had almost resigned myself to sleeping in a shed, better than nothing, when I spotted a garage door to a tiny brick home across the street. The door had come disengaged and hung at a lopsided angle. After checking out the circumference and determining the house sat securely on its foundation, I figured the garage would do.
I gave the locked back door a firm jiggle and waited. Nothing tumbled over or crashed in on itself. The roof stayed put, and I breathed a sigh of relief. The crooked garage door left a gap big enough for me to crawl through, but before doing anything, I dropped to my knees and removed a tiny flashlight from my bag.
I knelt next to the hole and carefully aimed the yellow beam into the darkness. At this moment, I felt extremely grateful we weren’t fighting the undead or creatures from outer space. For the most part, this apocalypse was boring, but that suited me fine. To be safe, I refused to put my hand in the hole, but kept it where I could snatch it back if I had to.
No car. Not much of anything, really. Just the usual garage stuff—push lawnmower, tires, shovels, ice coolers, and tools.
“Okay, Callie.” I took a deep breath, calming my rising nerves and doing my best to keep my anxiety in check. No more panic attacks. I could do this. “Let’s check it out.”
I lay flat on my belly and army-crawled through the space while dragging Callie along on her leash. She tugged back, not wanting to follow, but I gave her no choice. I reached back through the gap and hauled my backpack inside too. I’d be needing it.
A few tools lined the workbench, all orderly and organized. A dark oil mark in the middle seeped into the wood, but a tiny bit still pooled on top. Odd. I touched it and rubbed it between my thumb and forefinger before wiping it off on my pants.
I pushed open the side door leading into the kitchen, but waited a minute before going in just in case the house decided to try and kill me. Nothing happened. The house was one of the precious few in the area continuing to hold itself together and stand upright, but I remained cautious anyway.
Everything looked normal. Even the pictures on the walls hung straight on their hooks. Strange. The surrounding area had pretty much been demolished, but except for the broken garage door, this particular house appeared untouched.
Callie wanted down, so I set her on her feet but continued to hold on to her leash. Past experience told me to leave the fridge alone, but I carefully opened each cabinet and pantry door in hopes of finding a little something to appease the gnawing in my belly.
I stood in the middle of the linoleum floor with each door wide open, my bottom jaw nearly hit my chest as I took in the bounty. The mother lode. I swore I heard angels singing.
Each shelf was lined and stocked to overflowing. Cans of all shapes and sizes, with their labels facing outward, beckoned to me. Jars of tomatoes, various fruits, green beans, and pickles almost had me drooling. A dozen jars of peanut butter. That much more of jam—all flavors. Bags of chips, pretzels, Hostess pastries jam-packed on several shelves with one whole shelf dedicated to jar after jar of Nutella. Nutella.
I blinked several times. No freakin’ way.
The temptation was too much, and I reached for a jar of Nutella, cracked open the lid and peeled back the safety seal. I dipped my fingers inside, but hesitated before slipping the chocolaty goodness into my mouth.
Something wasn’t right here.
Not a hint of dust covered the kitchen table or counters. A back window, missing its glass, had a board nailed over it. Every piece of furniture sat upright. Books lined the tall shelves. Only a porcelain figurine, perched on top of the television, showed any visual damage. Its tiny arm lay next to it, waiting to be fixed, along with a tube of super glue.
I slipped my chocolaty fingers into my mouth and sucked at them, not wanting to waste it, and took in my surroundings, noticing for the first time how “clean” and orderly everything really was. Carefully, I sat the jar of Nutella on the counter without making a sound, and reached into the side pocket of my pack to remove my gun.
I bent and tied Callie’s leash to a kitchen chair, turned off my flashlight, and started down the hall, placing each footstep without a creek. It took a moment for my eyes to adapt to the dim light, but doing so was better than walking around with a spotlight on my head—X marks the spot.
The bathroom, though empty, revealed more signs of living—a toothbrush, comb, a folded towel on the counter and a partially used bar of soap. Practically brand new.
Angling my body just so, I gently pushed open the bedroom door while staying hidden. I waited and listened, in case the person I suspected of claiming this place had plans to blow my head off.
“Hello?” I waited.
>
No sounds, no shuffling. Nothing.
“I’m friendly, I swear.” I added bonus cheer to my voice, sounding extra non-threatening. Then I worried I sounded too friendly, like someone they could easily take down should the situation come to that. Shoot. “I don’t want any problems. I only want to talk. I promise.”
No response. Whether I should be grateful or disappointed, I wasn’t quite sure.
I waited a little more and then peeked inside briefly before returning to the safety of the hall. -The small glimpse had revealed just an empty, well-made bed, a stack of folded clothes on the dresser, and a coat draped over a chair.
But one thing had caught my eye, and as I stood there in the hall, trying to steady my breathing, as I realized what it meant. No way.
I lowered my gun and leaned my head against the wall, thinking—something I told myself not to do.
After a few minutes, I stepped into the darkened room and approached the double bed.
Sure enough, Cole’s stolen backpack leaned against the footboard.
How was this even possible? Sure, the house was practically the only upright building in the area, but really? Come on.
Though, I had to admit, knowing the occupant was the mysterious boy from the mall and not some end-of-days weirdo seemed a blessing. At least the boy and I had already developed some rapport. Still, the whole coincidence seemed rather odd.
I could have grabbed the stolen backpack, headed to the mall, and presented Cole with it. Ah-ha, I told you so! But I didn’t. I had cut ties with him and decided it best to keep them severed. Knowing Cole, he’d find a way to twist it all around and make me look like a lying fool again.
Nope, I would not be going back. Good riddance.
Besides, I was curious about the skater boy, who he was and what he knew. And more importantly, why was he still here?
I understood Cole’s reasoning—he was a giant jerk, after all and liked stealing everyone’s left-behind belongings—but a boy, not much older than me? Why hadn’t he left, searched for others?
The kid wasn’t here, not now, but at some point he would return—he had a shelf full of Nutella, hello?—so I decided to take advantage of the situation and help myself to some goodies. I ate most of one jar, and then cracked open a can of chicken noodle soup and a bag of potato chips.
The kid had stolen Cole’s bag, so he had no right to complain that I’d eaten some of his food. All was fair play. If he happened to get mad, so be it. I still had a belly full of food I couldn’t return. Well, at least not in the most pleasant of ways.
I was determined to stay awake, regardless of the exhaustion clamping down on me, but after several hours slipped by without any sign of him, I crawled onto the sagging couch and adjusted the decorative pillows under my head. I placed my gun under the cushions for quick access, but trusted I wouldn’t need it. The boy had told me that when we first met he had no plans to hurt me, and I’d believed him.
I still believed him.
Maybe I should have been more afraid, been more prepared for his return, but when Callie lay in the crook of my arm, and her warm little body purred against mine, my eyes drooped shut.
The instant my eyes opened, shaking off sleep, I knew I wasn’t alone.
I rolled my head to the side and sure enough, he sat across from me on a chair with his long legs stretched out in front of him and his dark eyes locked on mine. Tightness grew along my shoulder blades and my breath became stilted. I pushed myself upward, trying to cram my body into the far corner of the couch, but the plastic bands looped around my wrists and ankles hindered my efforts. I nearly tumbled face-first to the floor. What the—?
No, no, no!
I twisted my hands and kicked my legs, fighting against the zip-tie restraints, but the hard plastic held tight, not budging an inch. My struggling pulled them tighter, pinching my skin and digging into my tender flesh. Even trying to bite them didn’t work.
“I’m not going to hurt you.” He leaned forward in the chair, his eyes still on mine. “I promise.”
The exact same words he’d spoken the day before. Somehow, with my hands and ankles bound, I didn’t quite believe him like the first time. I lifted my hands. “Then why do this?”
“Because I don’t know if you’re going to hurt me.” He cocked a brow and lifted my small gun.
My gun! Holy crap! I must have really been out of it for him to bind me and take my gun from the couch cushions. I should have prepared better. So dumb. Now here I was, practically hog-tied and at his mercy.
“I’m not going to hurt you either,” I said, hoping to fix this situation, and quick. “I’m a really, really nice person.” Not a smart person, but nice and trusting, sure.
He looked at the gun for several minutes then turned his attention to me. “Why the gun?”
I shifted on the couch with my bound feet on the floor and my tied hands in my lap. “I don’t know. It makes me feel safer, I suppose. Also, I’m a girl. I’m on my own. Everything is really crazy in the world right now, if you haven’t noticed.”
He seemed to think about that for a moment before putting the gun down on a side table. “But you followed me.”
“No!” I shook my head. “I didn’t. I swear! This happened to be the only decent house in the area, but I had no idea you’d staked claim to it. Honest.” This looked bad. Really bad.
His eyes narrowed and he raised his chin.
“I know, I know! I’d be skeptical too, but I’m telling the truth. I had no idea which way you went after you left the mall. This is all a giant misunderstanding, a fluke really, and believe me I’m just as surprised as you are.”
“Where’s your friend?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I kind of left him at the mall.”
He leaned back in the chair. “Why would you do that?”
I brushed away a loose strand of hair falling over my eyes and tickling my nose. Not an easy thing to do with bound hands. “Because he’s a bit of an ass, that’s why.” I waved my hands around for effect. “What is it with you guys? Here we are, stuck in the middle of a natural disaster of epic proportions and the only two people I’ve come across so far have turned out to be slightly... mean.”
Maybe calling him mean wasn’t the best approach, but it flew out of my mouth before I really thought about it. “What I meant was shouldn’t we all come together to figure out what is going on instead of doing this?” I waved my arms again before dropping my aching hands back in my lap. “Oh, and for the record, the guy you saw at the mall isn’t my friend.”
He crossed the room, and pushed aside the curtains to peer out.
“He’s not with me anymore. I promise.”
“I believe you.” He continued to look out the dirty window.
O-kay. Apparently, I’d exchanged one crazy person for another. Good job, Tess. You really know how to do this whole survival thing, don’t you?
He stood watching out the window and saying nothing. What he was looking for, I had no idea. If someone or something was out there, it wouldn’t take much to get inside. Besides, the only other person I knew hadn’t followed me. He had probably returned to his “lair” with a basketball and hoop in his possession. The immature jerk.
“Why did you steal the backpack? We would’ve put together one for you, you know?” I really wanted to know, so I tossed the question out there, breaking the silence. Ever since he’d taken it and run off, I’d tried to make sense of it, coming up with nothing remotely sensible.
He shook his head and adjusted his knitted beanie. “I don’t know.”
“What?” I angled myself on the couch to get a better view of him. “You don’t know? I’m sorry, but that’s not a good answer. You had to have had a reason.” I was losing feeling in my toes. Darn zip-tie.
He turned from the window to look at me. “I needed stuff and I got nervous. Is that better for you?”
I wiggled my feet. “A little better, but not by much. See? This goes back to my origina
l question as to why we don’t all work together to get out of this mess instead of doing weird stuff like stealing each other’s supplies or tying up people.”
He didn’t answer me and we both fell back into silence. I lifted my bound wrists to my mouth again, but unless I wanted to lose a few teeth in the process, biting the strap off wouldn’t work.
I was about to settle against the couch, give in to being captive, but I sat straight up instead. Crap! Where was Callie? Jeez! I shifted around on the couch, searching for her, but didn’t see any sign of my kitten anywhere.
“Callie?” Oh, he’d better not have hurt her. Bound hands or not, I’d kill him! “Callie!”
“I’m allergic to cats, so I put her in the bathroom. Don’t worry, she’s fine.” He kept his back to me.
A tiny meow flittered down the hall, supporting his statement. I let out my breath and sank against the couch cushions, satisfied Callie was okay for the moment.
“You know,” he said, turning from the window and letting the drapes fall into place, “your cat is the first animal I’ve seen in a long time. Where did you find her?”
Shouldn’t we be talking about other things, like the fact that I was still tied up, and what he planned to do with me? “I got her from the local animal shelter.”
“Really?” He seemed surprised and stepped closer to me. “Was she the only one alive or were there others?”
Alive? Others? “Oh, wait. That’s not what you meant, is it? No, I adopted her from the animal shelter long before all this happened, and she’s been with me ever since.”
His face fell, looking very similar to when I told him I was heading to Rockport Canyon to find Dad. He flopped down in the chair, laid his head back and closed his eyes.
I noticed the lack of animals in the beginning, but hadn’t paid much attention since then. I had bigger things to think of, like trying to not die for one, but no animals was pretty strange for sure. “Cole, the guy I used to...”—what do I call it?—”be with, he thought it had to do something with the weather and the water being contaminated. That’s why the animals are either dead or have left.”
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