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After The End Page 3
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“Maisy?” Garlind prompts from the door. He’s all shadow as he fills the space.
Maybe leaving the bunker is what my parents would want for me now. If they were here, they wouldn’t want me to starve to death in the dark. They would want me to have a chance.
Wouldn’t they?
Even the risk of radiation from outside would be worth a few extra days—months, years—on earth? I honestly don’t know if they would agree with my decision or not.
I close the backpack and sling it over my shoulder. “Let’s go.” The words sound strange coming from my mouth. The steps I take to leave war with my brain every inch I move.
I want to stay.
I need to go.
There is no use debating the decision now. I close the door behind me and lock it tightly. Maybe one day I will be able to return here. When I do, I want to make sure nobody else has decided to destroy everything.
Garlind remains quiet as we walk away. He leads us, taking me farther into the outside than I’ve ever gone before. I can’t help but look at everything. My gaze darts around to see the bark of the trees, the vibrant green of the bushes, and the absolute blueness of the sky. I’m sure my eyes are boggling out of my head like a fool.
It’s some time before Garlind speaks. “Did you bring your gun?”
“No.”
“You might need it out here. Maybe we should go back for it.”
“I don’t have any bullets for it,” I confess. It’s not ideal admitting I was bluffing yesterday when I first met him. But desperate times really do call for desperate measures.
Garlind grins. “I didn’t think so.”
“I could have had bullets. And I could have shot you with them,” I say indignantly. There was no way he could have known I was just bluffing. My gun looks deadly as it is. It should have scared him witless.
“You’re not the killing type.”
“You don’t know that.”
His gaze meets mine and does something weird to my stomach. “You’re too nice to kill me. I knew that from the moment you opened that door.”
“How?”
“I just did.” His smile takes up his entire face, lighting it up like a gas burner. I don’t know what to say to him. My interactions with other human beings have been so limited that conversations are difficult. I don’t understand Garlind so I don’t know if he’s joking or serious.
He reaches into his backpack and pulls out a gun. I should be terrified about that action, but I also have a feeling that he’s not the killing kind. Perhaps I am completely wrong.
“Take this,” he says and shoves the gun’s handle at me.
I back up and throw my hands in the air so they are nowhere near the gun. “No. I don’t want it.”
“You might need it. I have another one, this is my spare. Just take it.”
“I can’t. I don’t want to carry a gun.”
“Why not?”
Because a loaded gun is how things get killed. I’ve never actually had a need to shoot something. I was protected in the bunker, I didn’t have to defend myself against anything other than my father’s mean Scrabble skills. My empty gun was fine, it was just for show. Carrying something loaded is a line I just can’t cross yet.
Maybe being outside will change that. But not yet.
“Because I’m not the killing kind,” I mutter.
Garlind hesitates for a moment before he realizes I’m never taking the gun. He shoves it back into his backpack and zips it up tightly. “Okay. I’ll carry it for now. But it’s there if you need it.”
Somehow, that’s reassuring. Garlind didn’t have to offer me his spare gun. He didn’t know that I wouldn’t take it and shoot him. Other people might have done that. He didn’t know I wouldn’t. He must really believe I’m not the killing type.
I’m not sure what type of person I am out here. Inside the bunker, I knew. I was the kind of person that got up at the same time every day, I kept everything clean and tidy, and I went to bed right on cue every night. My life was a routine.
Not anymore.
“Where are we going?” I ask. Garlind is walking with a purpose, as if he has a map inside his head that he’s following. Everything looks the same out here. Trees and plants have taken over with no room for humans. I wonder where all the mutant monsters live.
“We have to find someplace to stay tonight,” he replies.
“Is your underground home nearby?”
He shakes his head. “It’s in the opposite direction. A long way in the opposite direction.”
“Will we find another before it’s dark?”
“Probably not.”
“So, we’re going to sleep out here?” My voice has raised its pitch so the question sounds screechy. I’m halfway to having a panic attack. There is radiation out here. Every second we spend aboveground we are being exposed to the poison. Who knows how long we have before we turn into mutants ourselves.
“I’ll find a clearing. We’ll be all right.”
“But we’ll be outside.”
Garlind laughs. “I’ve been outside most of my life. It’s okay. It won’t hurt us.”
He doesn’t know. He didn’t have scientist parents that told him everything bad the meteorite did to the earth. He’s oblivious to the dangers.
“There isn’t a lot of places to shelter between here and the ocean,” Garlind explains. He’s not laughing anymore. Perhaps he’s picked up on the sheer panic written across my face.
“There’ll be a lot of radiation.”
“The ocean washes away radiation.”
I’ve never heard my parents say that. “That’s not true.”
He grins again. He does that a lot. “It might be. I’m still not sure what radiation is. But I promise I’ll protect you. We’ll be okay.”
I nod and keep walking. I really want to believe his beautiful lies but I can’t. Not really. But I can’t return to the bunker without gas or food. I have no real choice except to keep going and pray the radiation has settled down. It has been seventeen years since the meteorite hit. Perhaps the worst of it is all gone.
Plus, Garlind is a living, breathing example of being able to survive in the outside. If he’s telling the truth, he’s been exposed for many years and he’s fine. Perhaps that is all the facts I need to know right now.
We’ll be okay.
My new mantra.
I repeat it over and over again to stave off the panic that constantly lingers right on the edge of my consciousness. I wish a gun could protect us from all the dangers of the outside. If that were the case, I would have accepted Garlind’s spare one.
The sun starts to dip over the horizon after we’ve walked for more than a few hours. Everything looks more menacing in the dark. The trees and branches take on a maniacal edge and seem to be leering at us. The bushes rustle too much, like they’re trying to hide things. Things that can spring out and attack at any moment.
Every little noise makes me jump. My heart is constantly racing. There is so much out here. It’s a sensory overload.
“What is that noise?” I ask quickly as my ears pick up on a new sound. It’s a trilling, loud enough to hurt my aural senses.
“It’s just a bird,” Garlind says casually. Like it’s no big deal.
“What kind of a bird?” One that eats humans? One that has been mutated by all the radiation so it craves blood? A hundred scenarios race through my head all at the same time.
“I don’t know. Maybe a parrot? Sounds like it could be a parrot.”
I have never seen a parrot in real life. Only in books. They didn’t look like blood-sucking murderers. Although, there is a high probability that they’ve changed—mutated.
“Relax. It’s not going to hurt us,” Garlind assures me.
The squawking continues and doesn’t help me relax at all. I hear threats in the trilling but Garlind doesn’t seem to be affected. If he’s encountered them before and still lives, perhaps I’m overreacting.
 
; I hope so.
When it gets too dark to see anything, Garlind stops. “We’ll stay here for the night.”
He takes a flashlight from his backpack and holds it in his mouth while he clears the ground at our feet. I’ve never slept a night outside of the bunker. The very idea scares me down to my bones. He’s thorough with his clearing, making a space that will accommodate both of us.
Finally, he stands back and gestures to the ground. A blanket has been placed there. “Your bed, my lady.”
I kneel down and feel the hardness of the dirt underneath. I feel very far from my bed in the bunker and everything I’ve ever known. I guess this is my life now—a life I’ve chosen. I’d better get used to it.
“I’m sorry it’s not something more comfortable,” Garlind says. He’s standing back slightly, as if he’s unsure what I’m going to do next. That what I do might contain violence that he wants to avoid being a part of.
“I never expected comfort out here,” I reply. I don’t add that I never knew what to expect. I just thought everything would be different to what I’d known.
Different good and different bad.
He kneels next to me. “I can sleep somewhere else if you don’t want to share.”
I don’t want to share, but that would be unfair. This is Garlind’s blanket. I’m not going to make him sleep on the ground when there is room for both of us—just. I pat the blanket. “You can stay here. Just don’t hog the blanket.”
He smiles that dazzling smile that makes me want to give him everything I have and ever will have. “Thank you. I promise to stay on my side.”
“Good.”
Once we’re settled, we share a measly meal of a protein bar and lay back to stare upwards. I’ve seen pictures of constellations in books my father had and listened to him tell me about twinkling stars. My mother used to sing a nursery rhyme to me about stars twinkling. I had an idea in my mind what the night sky would look like.
I was so wrong.
Through the leaves of the trees I can see right up into infinity. There are not just a few stars, but thousands. Maybe even more. They are little light globes that twinkle and shine. It’s as if someone had flicked a switch and turned them all on at the same time. Then off again, then on. It’s a miracle and possibly the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.
I wish I’d read the astronomy book now.
How is it that these stars have existed out here for seventeen years and I’ve never seen them before? How could I have missed out on this sight every night of my life until now? It’s so magnificent that I can’t tear my gaze away.
Everything else fades away while I stare upwards. I shrink down to the size of an ant as I contemplate just how big this universe is. I am insignificant, not even as big as a star. There is so much out here and so little of me. I never imagined it to be this large outside.
“Every night I hope to see one of the Generation Ships up there,” Garlind says. He brings my world back to earth again, just as I was about to float away to join the twinkling lights.
He also has reminded me of our quest. How impossible it all seems.
“What would they look like this far away?” I ask. I’m curious to know. Perhaps they aren’t all stars I’m seeing up there. Perhaps some are these imaginary ships of his.
“Like a dull light. They will be barely visible at night. Only in the daytime, when the sun hits them, will they be really obvious.”
“But you’ve seen one.”
He lets out a long sigh. “I thought I did. So they are definitely up there, I know it.”
His unwavering confidence is endearing but also sad. I hope he’s not setting himself up for a fall. I would like to believe him but I have no evidence to say these ships exist. All I want to see is the ocean. I know that exists because I’ve seen pictures, my mother spoke about it. There is evidence of its existence.
For a moment, I try to imagine what a Generation Ship would be like. Garlind said whole worlds exist inside these ships. They are completely self-sufficient and can sustain generations upon generations of people. They would need to have ways to grow food and manufacture electricity. I wonder what their power source is—solar? They would certainly have plenty of sunlight to use to their advantage.
Overall, I imagine a Ship would be much like the bunker except on a much, much bigger scale. Where I was living largely underground, the Ships are in the air. Otherwise, they are both boxes with no way of going outside safely.
Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad living on a Generation Ship. I had planned on living in my bunker until the day I died. If I hadn’t run out of food and gas, I wouldn’t consider going outside at all. A ship would be safe and free from the monsters roaming the earth.
“Good night, Maisy Rayne,” Garlind says in the darkness.
“Don’t call me that.” I roll over to face the opposite direction and tear my attention from the stars. “Good night.”
He chuckles under his breath. I don’t think he’ll ever stop using my full name to address me. Maybe I don’t want him to. I like that he has a sort of nickname for me. I will have to come up with one for him—considering he likes them so much.
I fall asleep from exhaustion. I’ve never walked so far in my life or had so much physical activity. The forty foot by sixteen foot bunker didn’t exactly make it easy to exercise too much.
My dreams whisk me away easily. I travel to a world full of stars that I can float amongst. The moon is there too. I can whirl around it with my weightlessness.
I must have been dreaming for hours before a loud growling wakes me up. My eyes fly open as I jump up defensively. It’s still too dark to see very well. Once my eyes adjust, I wish they didn’t.
I’m face to face with a gigantic bear.
Chapter 5
The bear’s claws shine in the moonlight. His black eyes stare at me as he rears up on his hind legs. Apparently, I’ve angered him by being in his way. How dare I sleep in his forest.
Fear shivers down my spine like a cold frost. I’m frozen in place by an invisible force called terror. I’ve never seen a creature this big before. Has he been mutated by the radiation? Bears didn’t look this big in the books I read. The photographs didn’t exactly show scale.
I have to run. My fight or flight instincts kick in as I realize this is a life or death situation. It’s real, I’m living it. It’s not like everything I’ve read in books in the safety of my bunker.
Standing here is not going to save me. I urge my foot to move. It lifts off the ground.
“Play dead!” Garlind yells.
In the split second it takes me to glance his way, I can see him drop to the ground. Sticking around and just lying on the floor seems like a really bad idea. But Garlind has been in the outside world a lot longer than I have.
It takes me only another second to make up my mind. I drop to the floor and curl up in the fetal position. The bear roars and rears up on its hind legs. I know I should close my eyes but I can’t. Not seeing this terrifying scene is worse than actually seeing it.
The bear comes crashing down to the floor with a thud that makes the ground shake underneath me. The strength in his paws is a hundred times anything I could manage. One swipe and I would be killed in an instant.
All these thoughts do not help me to keep still and pretend I am dead. Surely the monster can hear the way my heart is racing in my chest? I can barely breathe in case he notices and pounces on me. I’m such easy prey here, all out in the open.
The cold, wet nose of the bear touches my leg and inhales my scent. He sniffs all along my shin and then up to my thigh. He reaches my belly and continues with his deep breaths. Just one poke of his sharp claws and he could rip my belly open. He could easily feast on my intestines then. I hope he makes it quick so I don’t have to suffer.
My parents would be having a fit now if they were still here. They’d remind me of all the times they told me not to go outside and how dangerous the world was now. ‘If the radiation do
esn’t get you, then the mutants will’. Maybe I should have listened to them. I wouldn’t be about to be torn apart by a bear if I had.
The bear takes a step closer. He’s now so close his claw is pulling on my T-shirt. He’s going to pull the whole thing off me if he gets tangled in the threads. It’s nearly impossible not to pull away.
I remain as still as a dead body and hope I’m not about to become one. The smell of the bear is an assault on my nostrils. It’s the scent of dirt, must, rotten leaves, and poop, all rolled into one. I have to fight the urge to gag.
His breath is even worse.
He sniffs my face as I pray he doesn’t notice my eyes blinking. I should have closed them ages ago. I shouldn’t have left them open so he can see I’m still alive. It’s my stupid mistake that’s going to get me killed.
I long to see what Garlind is doing but don’t dare move. All my senses are being tested by the bear so I can’t hear, see, or smell any sign of my new friend. If I don’t make it out of this alive, I hope he does. The bear can’t be hungry enough to eat both of us.
Surely.
His breath is puffed across my face. I fix my gaze on the sky above so I don’t blink. I can’t move or he’ll know I’m not dead. This close, he can see every part of my features.
Black eyes stare at me. Study me. Consider me. The bear blinks slowly and I can see intelligence behind those eyes. He’s not merely a giant mutant monster. He’s smart, keen, and probably cunning too. He’s probably played this dead thing on others, tricking them to survive a while longer.
I hope he’s not smarter than me. I’m a skinny little girl. I’m not much of a meal, even if he eats my bones too. He needs to realize this and walk away.
Just walk away. Please.
His gaze is stolen by a noise in the bushes beyond our measly camp. He pulls back as his ears twitch from intensely listening. My ears strain too but I can’t hear anything beyond the rustling of some leaves.
It’s enough to hold his attention for a few more seconds before he lumbers away to investigate. I’m forgotten while something more interesting is on the horizon.