"Yeah, it kind of is," I agree. I think on that a moment. "How about we think of all the things we're not going to miss?"
She doesn't miss a beat. "Working at Pete's Fish Fry, and coming home every night reeking of the place." I laugh and she elbows me in the side, though there's amusement in her voice. "Screw you, Morgan. It was a job. Not much out there when all you have is a GED and no work experience." I do my best to stifle another laugh. Although the GED is a surprise. She seems smart and calculating, not the type of girl I'd expect to forgo a high school diploma. But then again, I really don't know anything about her, like how she came to be responsible for Grace in this new world. I want to ask, but feel it would be a mistake to pry into her past with things so fresh and new between us. So instead I add telemarketers and backseat drivers to the list, and she counters with reality television and social media.
I don’t know how long we continue our tirade of all we will not miss, only that I never thought I would find myself smiling so much, or laughing so hard this soon after the attacks. Perhaps I should have been better focused on keeping watch, but talking with Lauren—seeing her smile and hearing her laugh made it easy to forget.
"You think it's all gone?" she asks a while after we've exhausted our lists. "Like for good?" I've thought about that exact question a lot over the past two days—as we walked through the city and passed so many on the trail. No answers came to me then, just as they do not come to me now. The only answer I have is what I’ve felt since I stepped out of Emily’s apartment.
"I don't know," I say quietly. "Maybe not everything. I don't see civilization ever reaching the plateau it did, at least not during our lifetimes. But maybe whatever rises from these ashes will be better. Stronger than the old way. It’s just too hard to say. All I know is that in this new world, the most important thing is those you keep by your side. The rest of the shit we lost is nothing compared to losing one of us."
She ponders my words a moment. "I'm glad we're with you then," she breathes. I look over and am surprised to see tears falling from her eyes. I want to comfort her, to put an arm around her shoulder or offer her my hand, but I know she's not that kind of girl. She's the type to be embarrassed by them. I sit quietly beside her, giving her time to process whatever's going through her head. She wipes her cheeks quickly. "I never thanked you for letting us join you...God, I still can't believe I was stupid enough to put us in that situation last night. If you hadn't come, I—"
"Don't," I say, cutting her off. I can’t stand to hear this girl tear herself apart over what those pieces of filth tried to do. "Don't you dare blame yourself for what those sick bastards did. You did what you thought was best for you and Grace. Had you left during the day, who knows what might have happened. It was chaos, anything could have happened and you wouldn't have even seen it coming. And if you had waited five more minutes before leaving, or left five minutes earlier, you wouldn't have even encountered those guys. The world may be messed up right now, but chance or fate or whatever still exists. Shit happens. It did before and it still will. And you don't have to thank me: I wouldn't have asked for you and Grace to join us if I didn't want you here."
Tears still pool in her eyes even as I watch resolve burn through her stare. “You’re right,” she says. “I think the hardest part is knowing how close they came to...you know...with Grace.” The pain I heard last night laces through her words once more. It’s hard for me to hear, and I wish more than anything I could take the pain away from her. “I’ve always been the one who looked out for her, you know? Anytime she needed something she knew I’d be there for her. Then last night came and…” She has to pause to collect herself, the pain still raw inside her. “It’s just hard to accept this is how the world is now—that no matter what I do or how hard I try, it might not be enough to keep her alive.”
Tears trail down her cheek once more, and this time I can’t help but to take her hand in mine. At my touch her eyes lift to mine and I know I’m seeing a side to her she doesn’t often show, keeping it locked away under layers of thick skin and tenaciousness, afraid of what might happen if the world sees past her defenses. “I can’t promise you everything will work out the way we want it to, or that bad things won’t happen between here and where we’re going. But I can promise that you’re not alone in this. Whatever happens, we’ll be by your side. We’re in this together—never forget that.”
She wipes her eyes with one hand making no move to withdraw the one still clasping mine. She looks over once more, a look of calm sincerity in her features. “And I promise you, I’ll do everything I can to keep us safe and moving forward. And despite what you said earlier, I still wanted to thank you for all you’ve done. Some things need to be said even if the other person knows it.”
I hold her gaze a long moment, and then tip my head in acknowledgment. "In that case, you are most welcome," I say. She smiles and so do I, the seriousness in the air lifting around us. We finish off the watch mostly in the same comfortable silence we started with, and when we leave to wake our relief, I no longer hold any doubts that I made the right decision when I asked her and Grace to join us.
Chapter 7
I wake to the light feathering of something soft brushing across my face. "Wakey-wakey, Sunshine," comes a cooing voice. "Time to start the day." I start, fully awake now and recoil away. My hands form into fists, ready to swing. Then I hear the laughter. My eyes adjust and I see Leon laughing his ass off on the far side of the tent, a long black feather in his hand. Of course. For as long as I can remember he's gotten some perverse joy out of waking people up in the creepiest way possible. A feather across the face is pretty normal by his standards.
"You're a freak, Lee," I say, battling a yawn. It's early, the low light outside the tent tells me that much. I move to stretch my arms and let out a groan, yesterday's intense hiking leaving me sore head to toe.
"Yeah, my back was stiff as a wedding dick when I first woke up," Leon assures me.
I laugh. "Definitely gonna take some getting used to," I say moving to get myself dressed, the effort more taxing than it should be. I leave the tent after Leon, heading toward the campfire Felix must have prepared this morning. "Figured we'll be heading out shortly, might as well cook something over a fire," he explains, extending a thermos full of coffee my way.
I take a sip, and silently thank whoever thought to add it to our supplies. "Good call," I tell him. I pass the thermos to Maya who grimaces through the taste of the cheap instant coffee. I smile at her. "Not up to your usual standards?" I ask.
She glares at me. "Don't be an asshole, Morgan. It’s too early." Clearly, she doesn't see the humor.
"I've been telling him that my whole life Maya," Emily says, emerging from her tent. She looks at me like I've disappointed her. "Trust me, he's a lost cause."
"And good morning to you too," I say brightly. "You look like hell. Felix, you'd better put another pot on the fire."
"I rest my case," she sighs, accepting the thermos from a laughing Maya. We do put on another pot, as well as a big batch of oatmeal as Lauren and Grace join us. Seeing Grace gives me an idea. I head away from camp toward the spot I saw last night. I return just as the oatmeal is being ladled out. I take a bowl for myself with one hand and keep the other behind my back as I walk over to Lauren and Grace. They both smile as I approach and Grace even manages to tell me good morning.
"Good morning," I say back. "Mind if I sit with you?" I ask.
Grace answers for them. "Sure, you can sit next to me."
"The best seat," I say, sitting down beside her. "You know, I found something earlier I think you might be interested in," I say nonchalantly through a spoonful of oatmeal.
She looks surprised, as does Lauren on her other side. “Really?" she asks. “What did you find?”
“I can’t just tell you,” I say. “Where would the fun in that be? You’ll have to pass my test if you want to know.”
A shy smile spreads across her face. “Alright, then. W
hat do I have to do?”
“Close your eyes,” I instruct. She does. I pull the surprise from behind my back, Lauren beaming at the sight of it, and hold it inches from her nose. “Now take a deep breath, and tell me what I’m holding.” Inhale—exhale—inhale once more and her smile grows wider. “Flowers,” she says a moment before opening her eyes. “Columbine’s” she adds as she accepts the bouquet of purple and white flowers from my hand. She inhales deeply once more and clutches it to her chest. “Thank you, Morgan,” she says.
Seeing the effect something so simple has made on her has picked me up more thoroughly than any cup coffee could. "You're welcome, Ms. Grace."
It's slow going when we hit the trail once again, all of us sore and stiff after yesterday. Early morning sunshine filters through the canopy of trees, creating splotches of light and shadow. The air is cool and crisp at this hour, washing across my face and filling my lungs, urging me forward. We keep the same arrangement as yesterday: Lauren and I up front; Emily, Maya, and Grace in the middle; Leon and Felix at our back. It's not without flaws, but it's the best we could come up with.
About an hour in I hear a giggle from behind, closely followed by a sharp thump to the back of my head. I turn, tracking the pinecone skittering to the side of the trail. Grace does her best to remain straight faced, but I can tell she’s struggling not to laugh. Emily walks beside her, innocently pretending to scan the treeline to the right. "Keep it up Em," I warn. I turn my eyes forward again. A couple minutes’ pass before another pinecone hits the back of my head. This time Grace can’t help herself, a giggle escaping her. I stop and turn my stare to Emily who stares back with a grin. "What? You’re the one who told me to keep it up," she says. I shake my head, though I can’t keep a grin from my own face. "Touche," I reply.
"You two are funny together," Lauren says when I turn around.
"Yeah. She’s been a pain in the ass since forever, but what can I say? She's grown on me," I say loudly enough for Emily to hear me. I get her reply when yet another pinecone hits the back of my head, though with considerably more heat than the previous two. Lauren joins her sister in laughing this time.
The elevation increases as the miles pass. Talking tapers off, our labored breaths and heavy footfalls the cadence which we march to. As I hoped, the further we travel the fewer faces we see besides our own. Though we do pass by a handful of camps along the way, most of which are guarded. Sentry's eye us as we pass, rifles slung across their shoulders and sitting in their laps. We never approach them, maintaining our distance and giving them no cause to shoot. But for the most part these camps are few and far between. I only hope they continue to thin out the further we proceed.
It's near midday when we find ourselves atop a high ridgeline, an open vista of rolling hills and faraway peaks stretched before us as far as the eye can see. This is backcountry Colorado at its finest—a place of wild beauty untamed by man. It’s as good a place as any to rehydrate and get some food into our stomachs. Felix wanders off toward the treeline, muttering something about branches. Emily and Maya prop themselves against their packs facing one another, their hands a flurry of movement as they teach Grace the pattern to some hand clapping game, the kind of thing young girls might play. Lauren watches on briefly before her gaze returns to the picturesque landscape.
"You need to look away," Leon says, amused.
Busted. "What are you talking about?" I ask, trying for casual.
He laughs. "C'mon, Moe. It's me. You don't have to act stupid."
I shrug. "It's nothing. I mean she's cool as hell...and yeah, she's definitely attractive. But I can't think about that shit right now."
"Bro, you don't have to lie to me. It's written all over your face," he says with a shit eating grin.
I don't return it. A flash of annoyance sparks within me. "You wanna talk feelings, Lee? How about you tell me how you feel about my sister?" His face falls as the words leave my mouth, and I immediately wish I could take them back. It's always been there, running beneath the surface of our friendship. The way his eyes lit up when she walked into a room, every time I'd see Emily snuggle into the butterfly fleece blanket, all the times we hung out over the years and they shared those looks I pretended not to notice. Only now I've brought it to the surface and it feels like a wall between us.
Before he has a chance to respond Felix reappears with an armful of long, straight branches. "These will make for some decent bolts," he says happily. His expression falters, picking up on the tension he just walked in on. "Everything alright?"
I stand, trying my best to sound normal. "Yeah man, just hoping everything's alright back home," I say. It's the best I could think of and he accepts it readily: all of us have home at the back of our minds. Leon stands and approaches the girls, effectively ending our conversation. For now, at least.
As we continue on the trail I can feel the conversation I had with Leon weighing on my mind. I've long suspected how he felt, but I never brought it up because of this exact reason: I never wanted a wedge of tension between us. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Lauren, and after nearly an hour of mostly silent hiking, she asks if I'm alright. It’s a question I don’t know how to answer. I'm having trouble acting normally around her, afraid I will come across as transparent to everyone else as I was with Leon. I was honest when I told him I couldn't afford to think about this shit right now. And even if I did allow myself to explore what might be, it could explode in my face, fracturing the newly formed group we've created. The fact that I'm even giving this much thought on the subject is proof I can't afford the distraction, and it hasn’t gone unnoticed.
I force my mouth to smile though I know it probably looks strained. "Oh, yeah. These miles just take some getting used to is all." I'm not sure if she believes me, but she goes with it. "Tell me about it. Home, work, and Grace's school were all within a 20-minute walk of each other. I'm glad I'm not the only one who feels it."
"Misery loves company," I smile, genuine this time.
"Not miserable," she says. "Not with you." I look over, puzzled by her choice of words. I see a slight tinge rise to her cheeks. "I mean...you know, with your group and everything."
I don't allow myself to analyze this no matter how much my hyperactive brain might like to. "I've already told you it's our group, not mine. You're just as much a part of it as I am." Talk begins to flow between us once more and I slowly feel the tension leave me. She offers me snippets of her life before: of late night ice cream runs with Grace and early morning cups of coffee, watching the sun rise from her bedroom window, the soft cadence of her sister’s breathing the soundtrack to which she began each day. She never mentions her parents, and I have sense enough not to ask. I can tell there’s something there though, and I can’t help but be curious. I speak of my own life back home—of the simple and predictable days typical of a small town like Durango. Conversation continues to flow: as we climb a series of switchbacks above the South Platte River; as we leave our canopy of trees and enter a major burn area, the dead husks of trees stretching like ghostly fingers from the ground; through a small meadow where a pair of foxes’ eye us from the fringe, the afternoon passing by in smiles and laughter.
As the afternoon cedes to evening we find ourselves staring at the first building we've encountered since leaving the city behind. It's not much, just a small metal outbuilding with an outdoor water spigot which we use to top off our stores. Felix consults the trail guide and tells us the building is an old unmanned fire station, and that by reaching it, we've managed to cover over sixteen miles on the day. I feel every single one of them, and I know there is no way we can push this hard every day. Still, it's a good feeling to have covered so much ground.
We veer off the trail about a half mile before finding a spot we like. Setting up camp is much the same as last night, the one exception being the addition of a camp fire. It's a risk. But we haven't seen anyone the last few miles, and we are in a pretty secluded spot, surrounded by trees and shrubs. It shouldn'
t be an issue. Watching my friends settle around the flames I find it kind of amazing the difference a fire can have on moral. In so many ways this feels like a normal camping trip, the kind where only the necessities are packed and your worries melt away in the company of close friends. It’s not the same, but it’s close. What truly lifts moral though is the promise of a hot meal, the smell of issuing from the camp pot testing every ounce of our patience. It’s a simple meal of rice and beans, but when I take my first bite I can’t remember anything tasting better. Funny how long days of physical activity tends to have that effect. Chatter and laughter fill the air around us, our food offering us a breath of energy. Sitting here, a warm meal resting in my stomach and a crackling fire before me, I feel good—better than I'd have thought possible given all that's happened. It's a feeling amplified when Maya unearths from her pack ingredients for the most quintessential campfire staple: chocolate, graham crackers, and marshmallows.
"S’mores!" Felix practically squeals with delight, making me laugh. "I love you, Maya. How the hell were you the only one with the sense to include this?"
She laughs. "What can I say? I gotta have my chocolate fix."
"What are s’mores?" Grace asks. Blank stares surround her. "What?" she asks as if she's afraid she's just asked something stupid.
"What are s’mores?" Felix gapes incredulously. "You're killin’ me, Smalls. How can you have lived to be twelve years old and not know what s'mores are?" He looks now to Lauren who watches him bemused. "How could you have deprived your sister of such a thing?”
"I don't know," she says with a laugh. "We never really went camping growing up."
He shakes his head. "Grace, I apologize on behalf of your sister," he says. "Now let me show you what you've been missing all your life."
The look on Grace's face as she takes that first bite is priceless, drawing laughs all around. "Mmm," she sighs. "Sooo good." I take a bite of my own and have to agree with her. When the fire runs low, Leon and I are volunteered to collect more wood. It's a simple enough chore, but the fire has left me night-blind. I don't even see Leon rounding the tree next to me. He just manages to step aside before we collide.
Echoes of a Dying World (Book 1) Page 8