I wrap my arms around her, letting her know she doesn't have to carry her burden alone. She doesn't fall apart. Doesn't break into hysterics. Only squeezes me back long and hard. When she pulls away her eyes are wet with tears she quickly wipes away. "It's part of the world now right?" she says, voice shaky. "Nobody's going to keep us alive but us. It's hard, but it's like you said in Denver: I'd rather feel this pain a hundred times over than watch one of you die. And I mean that. I'll do whatever it takes to keep us breathing."
I nod and squeeze her shoulder. "I know you will."
We dispose of the bodies some fifty feet from the trail in a shallow trench. We do it not for them, but to spare anyone traveling the trail from stumbling across their path. Felix has stitched Emily up, but her face is pale and her movements sluggish. I want to give her time to rest, but we need to cover some distance before we can allow it. An hour, and some three miles later I call it good. It's still early afternoon, but I've already pushed my sister hard enough today.
The coppery stench of blood still lingers, leaving a metallic taste in my mouth that won't go away as we set up camp. Soon as the tents are erected, Emily lays down and is asleep within minutes. She'll need all the rest she can get. Leon hauls water from a nearby creek before joining her in the tent, his worry greater even than my own.
"I'm going to set up some traps and see if I can hunt us some dinner," Felix announces. Maya stands, shouldering her rifle. "I'll join you," she says. She looks to me for a moment. "My mind could use the distraction." I nod, understanding what she means. "Sounds good," he says. "We'll be back before dusk," he informs me.
They disappear over the crest of a low hill, leaving Lauren and I alone as Grace tucks into an old paperback under the shade of a tall pine. We sit quietly for a long while, the notes of birdsong and rustling of leaves the only noise absent our breathing. The sun shines bright in the periwinkle sky as great fluffs of clouds lazily float across its expanse. A beautiful day marred by such an ugly act.
We were lucky earlier. The men who ambushed us were woefully under armed, their desperation leading them to attack us despite being outmanned and outgunned. Still, we were unable to walk away unscathed. I think of my wounded sister. I think of the man who had me pinned, and who nearly finished me off before Lauren put him down. They did all that armed with nothing but knives. What if they had a gun? Or two? I doubt all of us would still be breathing if they had. The thought sends a shiver down my spine. How many times can luck be on our side?
"You need to stop," Lauren says beside me. She lowers her gaze from the mass of clouds sitting above our little clearing, and meets my eyes. I stare back, losing myself for a moment in the deep green depths of her eyes.
"Stop what?" I ask, finding my voice.
"Worrying," she says. "We're still alive, Morgan. No matter how many times you replay what happened we'll still be alive, and no matter how much you worry about what lies ahead, it won't keep it from happening. We're going to be alright and we're going to make it home: I believe in us."
I want to heed her advice—want to believe her words, but my mind isn't so easily calmed. Worry and self-doubt weave between my thoughts. They're always there. Even as I smile and joke and continue on like all is well, it lingers still in the back of my mind: When will we run out of food? What if we're attacked again? Is Emily going to be alright? Is my family back home safe? Are they even still alive? How can I possibly hope to get us all home when a motley crew of ambushers nearly tore us apart?
I feel her hand slide into mine, warm and soft against the rough and calloused texture of my own. "Don't do that," she says, eyes hardening. "Don't close yourself off from me. You can pretend around the others, but not me. I see how much this weighs on you. You blame yourself for that gash in Emily's arm. I know because you feel responsible for anything and everything that happens to us. You're not though. You do more than anyone could ask of you, but you can only do so much. Sometimes things happen that are outside of our control, and if you beat yourself up over every one of them, you'll never stop swinging. You don't have to carry the weight of everything alone. You have us...you have me. So let it go."
I let loose a long breath and let her words wash over me. It was as if my mind were on display to her, everything she said so true. I've known this girl so briefly, yet she sees past my layers and defenses unlike anyone I've ever met. I inhale deeply and exhale slowly, muting my worries and concerns the best I can. I know they won't be kept quiet indefinitely, not with the world the way it is. But for now, I let it go.
She smiles and I can’t help but match it. "That's better," she says.
"Thank you," I tell her, squeezing her hand briefly. "I needed to hear that."
"I know you did," she replies. Her eyes darken. "Trust me, I know what you're feeling. I've been surviving a lot longer than just these past few weeks." What does that mean? I wish I knew the answer: that I could break through her defenses as easily as she can mine, and see where her mind goes when she says these things. As much as I want to ask, I resist the urge. I promised her I wouldn't ask of her past again, and I will honor it.
Felix and Maya are empty handed on their arrival back at camp, leaving us to dip into our ever-shrinking food stores for dinner. Emily, who slept most of the afternoon, returns to her tent shortly after we've finished. Leon will take watch alone tonight. My stomach still rumbles with hunger, and try as I might, worry creeps into my thoughts once more.
Chapter 10
We've moved at a crawl these past few days. Emily hasn't healed as we had hoped. Leon all but carries her as we move along the trail, yet still, she suffers. She doesn't say anything, but I know my sister. I can see in her eyes and hear in her voice the pain each mile costs her. When we rest, which is often, she curls into herself—sweat pouring down her face and shivering despite the warm air. It's bad, but I didn't know how bad until just now.
Emily sits inside the girl’s tent, sweat soaked hair plastered to her face, and hand clutching Leon's. The butterfly fleece covering her body seems out of place—something so colorful and vibrant amid the dour tension in the air. Leon's arm wraps around her shoulders, face drained of color and worry lines creasing his forehead. Felix squats on her other side, delivering the word which sends my world reeling: infection.
The dressing over her wound has been removed and I see it clearly for the first time since the attack. The gash is long and deep, inflamed red with a yellowish tinge and angry red streaks racing up her arm. I can only look at it a moment before I have to turn away. I can't fix this. I'm at a loss of how to help my sister, and if something isn't done soon, the infection will spread and she will die. Anger courses through me, wild and uncontainable: at those who attacked us; at the terrorists who waited in the grass like the snakes they were, waiting patiently to strike the blow that would cripple our way of life; at myself for not protecting her.
I've never been religious. God, to me, was someone my father spoke of in times of joy and sorrow, and who my parents forced me to honor by attending church twice a year, every Christmas and Easter. But I find myself throwing my anger His way too. How could you let this happen? How could you let the world fall so far into chaos: where girls are stripped of their clothes for the pleasure of sick men, and good men stripped of their morals in the name of survival? They say you're all knowing, all powerful, yet what have you done to help us? I don't know if you're real, or if you even give a damn about us, but if you do: please help save my sister. She doesn't deserve to die. Not like this. So either help us or stay out the way, because unlike you there is nothing I wouldn't do to save the one's I love.
I return to the tent, Lauren, Maya, and Grace parting for me at its entrance. I crouch down, staring at the angry wound as if by doing so could heal it. "What can be done?" I ask Felix.
He huffs a tired sigh and shakes his head. "Antibiotics," he says. "There are some natural remedies, but it would take time to track everything down and they're not as effective...antibiotics are ou
r only real option." I nod, assuming as much. We've avoided towns and cities ever since leaving Denver, not willing to risk venturing near them for fear of violence. But with Emily's life on the line, it's a risk I have to take.
"Where's the closest town?" I ask.
"Salida," he answers. "We're not too far from the highway, and from there it's twelve miles to the town." I consider the distance, calculating in my head how long it would take get there and back. The red streaks on Emily's arm remind me of how small a window I have, and I cut the time further. "Alright," I say, reaching my decision. "In the morning, I'll leave for Salida."
"We'll need to leave early," Felix says, rocking back onto the balls of his feet. "If they're organized, we might be able to trade some of our extra ammo. Could probably mix and match the 9mm and—"
"You're not coming," I say, stopping him mid-sentence. "I'm going alone." I feel the eyes of my friends’ land on me the moment the words leave my mouth. They're going to fight me on this. "The hell if you are," Felix says, exiting the tent and drawing himself to his full height. "You think I'm going to let you venture off by yourself?"
"It's not your call," I reply. She's my sister, it has to be me. I need to make them see that.
"Moe, you can't go alone. We don't even have a clue what the town might be like," Leon says. He makes no motion to move from Emily's side, but I can see in his eyes his decision is made.
"Which is exactly why I have to go alone," I argue. "If something goes wrong, it will only be one of our lives on the line. We have some extra ammo like you said. With any luck, it will be enough. If not, I'll sneak in and get what we need."
"That's a shit plan," Lauren says beside me. "Say something happens to you, how would we even know?"
"You could make the same argument if half of us go," I say hotly, unable to meet her eyes. "It's a gamble either way, and I can't ask any of you to risk your lives for this."
"No, you can't, Morgan!" Emily says sharply. She sits up from her prone position, wincing and gritting in pain to do so. Already she's so weak. "None of you need to do anything," she continues, eyes watering from emotion or pain I cannot tell. "I understand you feel you have to do something, but I'm the one who would have to ask it of you...and I can't do that. My life isn't worth more than any one of yours. Maybe it's not as bad as it seems. Maybe we can try a natural remedy like Felix said." She's trying to be brave, but I hear the fear embedded in her voice. She knows the truth as well as I do. Her only chance lies in finding antibiotics, but she can’t bring herself to ask our help with the risk so high. She'd rather fade into death than feel responsible should one of us fade also. But she's my little sister, the girl I've protected since we were children. I'd rather risk my life and risk her hating me, than sit here helplessly while she dies before my eyes.
Leon kisses her softly on the forehead, tears pooling in his eyes. "I love you, Em. I know you want to protect us and to keep us safe...and I know you're about the most stubborn woman I've ever met, it's actually one of the things I adore about you most...but you're out of your Goddamn mind if you think I'm going to sit here and do nothing." Her tears flow as his words hit home. She's afraid. She doesn't want to die, and even more, she doesn't want any of us to die either. She presses her face into Leon's shoulder while he strokes her hair and we watch on solemnly. "I don't want you to go," she says. "I don't want any of you to go."
"I know you don't, Em," I tell her, willing the tears away. If ever there was a time to be strong, it's now. "But it was never a choice for me. I'll risk my life if it means I might save yours."
"So, will I," Leon says softly. His eyes meet mine, a silent dare for me to challenge his right to do so. I want to. I want to do this alone, so only two lives hang in the balance on the outcome. But I can't. I'm not the only one who loves her. So I keep quiet and don’t fight his proclamation, nor do I fight Felix's when he says he will be joining us as well. They're grown men and it's their lives: who am I to deny their right to risk them?
There is a heaviness in the air the remainder of the evening. We talk and force smiles and reassure each other everything will be alright, but none of it really registers. They are just words—a collective bated breath we offer one another so as not to go insane with nerves. Emily falls asleep early, and we follow soon after. Maya will keep watch half the night and Lauren will relieve her, allowing Leon, Felix, and I, an undisturbed night's rest before tomorrow. The effort is wasted on me, however. I toss and turn, the brief bouts of sleep I manage plagued by faceless men in a strange town, hunting my friends down one by one while I watch on helplessly.
I give up on sleep entirely after a while, leaving the tent into the early morning darkness. I take a seat beside her, resting my head against the thick tree trunk at my back. Neither of us speak for a long while, the quiet peaceful and comforting in a way the air is comforting before a storm. I can only hope it's one I'll manage to weather.
"Do you believe in fate, Morgan?" Lauren asks.
The question gives me pause, wondering where her mind is to ask a question so out of character. "You mean like God has a plan for all of us; everything happens for a reason; follow the signs the universe gives you...that kind of thing?"
"I don't know," she says softly. "Something like that I guess. Like all the major moments in your life happen not by accident or chance, but because they're inevitable?"
"I don't know," I reply. "That's a really deep question. The kind of things philosophy majors talk about, trying to unravel mysteries that might be better off unknown."
"Maybe," she says, bringing her knees to her chest and hugging them, a sign of vulnerability she doesn't often show. "I never really thought about it before."
"Why the sudden curiosity?"
She doesn't answer right away, continuing to stare off in distance, lost inside her thoughts. "I was just thinking if fate were real, it means all of this was meant to happen. The blackout; meeting you; Emily getting stabbed; all the other messed up shit we've been through...if fate is real, it was all meant to be. And if that's true, I have to believe everything will work out today—that you three will get the meds and come back safe and alive. Because why would fate be so cruel to let us come so far, only to strike us down now? Why make us scrape and struggle if it was all inevitable to end so abruptly?"
I consider this a minute, wishing I could bring myself to believe it were true. How comforting it would be to believe everything will work out simply because it was meant to. But that's just fantasy. If fate is real, it certainly doesn't care about cruelty.
"I think the only inevitability in life, is death," I say. "And that how and when we meet that death isn’t written in the stars or pre-determined, it's all just chance. It was chance those terrorists were able to do what they did. It was chance you and Grace were abducted so close to where we were, and that we were able to intervene. So was everything else that's happened since then. When we go into town today, anything that happens will be because of chance, not because it was meant to be. Maybe the town will be organized and hospitable and we can make a fair trade. If not, we'll figure a way to get what we need and come back. Trust me...I'm not ready for this life to end."
The peaceful silence once again fills the air as we watch the eastern sky catch light. At some point my hand finds hers, and I find strength and reassurance in her touch. Sitting here feels so good, so right, the warmth of her body next to mine ebbing away the chill I feel when I think of all that might go wrong today.
"I wish I was going with you," she says quietly.
"I know," I tell her. She's a fighter, the kind of girl who would willingly throw herself into the fray for those she cares about...for those she loves. I feel a pang inside my chest at the realization. It's strange, we've known one another so briefly, yet both she and Grace have found a place inside my heart. I wonder where along the path we made our way into hers. I withdraw my hand, an idea just occurring to me. I unclasp the watches we both wear and swap them: mine onto hers, and hers onto
mine. They are identical designs, the only difference being the black clasp and face of mine and the light brown of hers. Still, the gesture remains the same.
"Now it will be like we're right there next to each other," I say. Emotion wells inside her eyes as dawn's first light washes across her face, and any lingering doubt about my feelings for her vanish in an instant. My heartbeat leaps into my throat as our faces grow closer. The air between us feels electric, the pretense we've held shredding apart in this moment. So close. Her breath hot and hurried against my lips. Another inch and I will know if she tastes as sweet as I’ve imagined.
ZIP-ZIP. The opening of a tent flap sounds obnoxiously loud in the still air, breaking the moment between us. Slowly our faces pull apart, eyes still smoldering in the wake of what nearly happened. With an effort, I break my gaze and turn towards the tent. Leon and Felix emerge, dressed and ready for our trek to town.
Lauren and I rise to our feet as they approach. I turn to face her once more, the words of all I want to say lodged inside my throat. I swallow them. Now is not the time for whispered promises or to confess my heart. To do either would feel like goodbye, and I refuse to believe that's what this is. "Keep yourselves safe, we'll be back as soon we can," I say, wrapping my arms around her tightly. I let the hug linger, allowing myself this moment of peace before we set off.
"Please, be careful,” she says as we break apart, her hand still clutching mine.
I manage a smile I hope looks more confident than I feel. "I will," I say, squeezing her hand one last time before letting it fall. I shoulder my pack and holster my Glock, ready as I'll ever be to do this. Walking out of camp I force myself not to look back. If this whole ordeal has taught me anything, it’s that there is no going back. The only way is forward.
Chapter 11
I hit the trail at a brisk jog, Felix and Leon at my back. I'd move faster if I could, but as always, we must proceed with caution. This all seems so strangely familiar to me: the crisp air washing across my face and flowing through my hair, the steady rhythm of my pumping arms and slight burn in my legs as I eat up the trail. It all takes me back to a simpler time—before the collapse, before adulthood, before my eyes lost the gleam of youth and started seeing the world for what it was, instead of what I wished it to be—when the three of us would race through lands of our own made up world; soldiers defending our home from invaders; knights on a quest to save the princess; all the fantasies of young boys, playing the hero's we aspired to be. Now here we are all these years later, on a very real quest to save someone we love, and being a hero doesn't matter in the slightest. I know it doesn't to me. I don't want some grand story of our courage and valor: I just want it to end with my sister alive and well.
Echoes of a Dying World (Book 1) Page 12