***
After making one last swoop through the house to see if I’d missed anything while packing in the dark last night, I went to load the car. When I finished, I came back in to find Mason had packed up a bunch more junk he didn’t need. But with the look he had on his face as he descended down the stairs, I didn’t have the heart to say anything. He’d been so completely brave up to this point. Besides, we were leaving the only home we had ever known and it was hard on both of us.
Wrapping my arms around my brother, we both sobbed for a few minutes. It felt like we were losing our mom and dad all over again, even though in actuality, they had been gone for three months now. Living here in the same house we had with them had kinda made us still feel close to them; like their spirits were still here with us. It had been comforting.
Glancing around the living room, I stared at the place with the large stain on the wood floors by the fireplace and remembered the year when Mom had talked Dad into getting a real tree for Christmas instead of the artificial one we’d used every year. She’d insisted that we needed the real tree smell in the house to get the desired Christmas experience. She had forgotten to water it and the darn thing caught fire in the middle of the night Christmas Eve, burning all of our presents. Mom cried all morning, but the day turned out great. Without a million gifts to open, we spent time talking and singing carols. Then the next day, Mom replaced every single gift. She’s the best. Was the best.
My gaze drifted over to the doorframe where Dad had charted our growth every year. One summer, Mason was angry that he hadn't grown as tall as he'd hoped. He'd drug a stepladder in to draw his own line eight feet up then scratch his name in the paint. Mom and Dad had laughed so hard that they hadn’t had the heart to paint over it. We had more memories than I had time to recount, and as much as it hurt right now, I knew we would be thankful for them later.
Wiping my eyes with my shirtsleeve, I patted then kissed the top of my brother’s head. “Come on, we have to do this now before we change our minds.”
“I don't know, Kylie. I just hate the idea of leaving. I mean, what if they come back and we’re not here anymore? They’ll be worried sick about us.” Mason’s swollen eyes pleaded with me.
Smiling sadly at him, I tried to let him down easy. Again. “They’re not coming back. We’ve been here alone for three months and no one has come back.”
He shrugged. “So, that doesn’t mean they won’t! Maybe they were all kidnapped. The police could have found them and taken them to a hospital or something.”
“It isn’t possible for someone to kidnap an entire town, and even if it were, the police would have been snatched along with them. We’ve been over this. You said it yourself, we can’t stay here forever, we’d run out of stuff. We really don’t have any other choice here, bud.”
Stepping out of my hold, he pulled himself together, making me incredibly proud. He grabbed a couple of Dad's rifles and his shotgun that our parents had given him for his twelfth birthday. “Fine. Let’s go.”
Chapter 3
Neither one of us looked back as we pulled out of our driveway this morning; it was too unbearable to even consider. I felt like if I did look back, I’d turn into a pillar of salt or something. You know, like the bible story when Lot’s wife looked back at Sodom and Gomorrah. Not that our house was even comparable to Sodom and Gomorrah, but it’s the only analogy that came to mind at the moment. My brother kept his eyes downcast until we made it onto the main roadway, so I left him alone with his thoughts until then.
“Hey, how much do you miss Taco Bell right now?” I attempted to start up an as normal as possible conversation as we drove passed the chain fast food restaurants. The boy used to inhale tacos like they were going out of style. He didn’t respond, so I continued, “Or what about a dozen cheese Crystals, surely you haven’t forgotten your love for those tiny, delicious burgers.”
“You wanna know what I miss?” he began, staring out his window as we drove by the local public school. “I miss Mom and Dad, Grandma and Grandpa, my friends, school and even crabby, old Mrs. Smith. I would give anything to wake up tomorrow and all of this be like the worst nightmare ever! So, no, Kylie, I really couldn’t care less about junk food right now.” He wiped another stray tear from his cheek.
“Okay, I’m sorry. I’m not trying to make light of our situation, I was just—”
He cut me off. “Trying to distract me. Yeah, I got that. I’m not a baby, Kylie. I’m very aware of how hopeless our lives are right now, so why don’t you just cut the crap and drive!”
“Jeez, Mase, you don’t have to go all ballistic, I was only trying to help.”
“Well, stop trying to help.” He folded his arms as he rolled his eyes. “You just passed the sporting goods store. Pay attention, will ya?”
“Yes, Mason, I’m a bit distracted at the moment.” I began making a giant u-turn in the middle of the highway. “All those things you mentioned, I miss them, too. I would love to go back home and have Mom and Dad be there. To get up to go to school, see my friends and even turn in the book report that was due the Monday after this all happened. But, oh no, that’s not an option for me, either!”
I pulled right in front of the store’s parking lot, parking crookedly in the space, but really who gives a flip. Mason jumped out, slamming his door shut. I did the same.
“This didn’t just happen to you; it happened to me, too!” I yelled at him as I walked up to the store entry.
“It’s not the same for you as it is for me. They weren’t even your real parents!” Okay, that freakin’ hurt and I was pissed. I shoved passed him and kicked the front doors. They shattered into a million fragmented pieces, showering us with bits of glass. I hurried over and covered Mason with my body. When it was over, he and I looked at each other with wide-eyed shock.
“The doors must have been cracked already. There’s no way my single kick did that,” I whispered.
Mason’s tone rose to a near hysterical level. “Yeah, yeah, it did. There wasn’t a crack anywhere.”
I swallowed hard. “Maybe it has something to do with the lightning strike. You hear about people getting all sort of strange powers after stuff like that.”
“That was totally swasome!”
“Swasome?” I asked numbly.
“Yeah, you know, sweet plus awesome equals swasome. Man, I wish I’d been struck by lightning!”
“No, you don’t.” I sighed. “Let’s get the stuff we need and get out of here.”
I took a step forward when his hand shot out grabbing my wrist. “I didn’t mean it.”
Forcing a smile, I turned to face him. “I know. It’s okay, come on.” He nodded and we went inside the store, splitting up to gather our supplies.
The odor in the place was rancid, something either died in here or they had some expired food stashed somewhere. I hoped it was the latter.
Not finding what I needed out on the shelves, I headed straight for the storage room that was, thankfully, unlocked. I didn’t want to have to demonstrate to Mason or myself the fact that I was strong as a freaking freight train. At this moment, it was too weird to face. I needed to press on, moving forward without thinking too much, or I was about to have a major meltdown.
Aha, there they were; rows and rows of four-hundred grain arrow/tip combos. Since hunting season was over several months ago, I was a bit worried that they wouldn’t have any in stock and it wasn’t as if I could order any online. Grabbing the largest quiver they had with a holding capacity of forty arrows, I loaded up.
“Hey, Mase, find me a couple of heavy duty duffle bags out there, will ya?” I shouted to my brother while continuing my task. “Mason! Did you hear me!” When he still didn’t respond, a pang of fear swept over me.
Snatching a field ready bow, I went to find my brother. Creeping slowly and quietly, I scanned the store. Every muscle in my body tensed, readying for a fight. It felt unusual, intense and completely amazing all at the
same time. All my senses were extremely acute and now they were even more so since the lightning incident. No one is here, my instinct whispered from somewhere inside me. I listened more intently and picked up a crackling sound while moving stealthy through the aisles. I tracked the sound to just outside the back exit.
Leaning a little closer to the closed wooden door, I could make out the sound of someone breathing. No, two people breathing. One of them was struggling to take in enough air, signifying panic! That one was majorly freaking out, the other was breathing heavily, too. I could even pick up an odor the closer I got to the door. Putrid, one of them had the most disgusting smelling breath on the planet, reminding me of rotting meat.
The crunching sound commenced and then I heard a tiny squeak of fear. Not human, my instincts screamed, followed by, help, protect and defend. Taking a deep breath, I reacted, kicking the door open, sending splinters of wood flying. Mason was standing with his back against the building, shaking like a leaf while a bear was slowly approaching, thinking he’d found his next meal. The heck he had!
Pulling an arrow from my quiver and loading faster than I ever had in my life, I leapt between my brother and the now roaring bear, fired off a shot and was already loading another when the bear thudded to the ground. Surprisingly, I had just pulled off the most difficult of kills, the heart shot.
A second later, Mason was by my side, wrapping his arms around my waist, still quivering. Then, so was I. Staring down at the dead bear, I realized what I’d done and what could have happened if I’d missed. I should have taken the lung shot. My dad and his brothers were veteran hunters, always saying take the lung shot on a black bear. The heart shot is too risky and the bear’s leg usually hinders the shot.
I began to cry and so did Mason. I began backing away from the bear until my back hit against the stone wall. We slid down the wall together, holding on to one another as we sobbed.
“I want Mom and Dad,” Mason whimpered. I knew exactly how he felt. Kissing the top of his sandy blonde head, I tried to be comforting like Mom used to do for us, but I wasn’t Mom! I was just a sixteen-year-old kid, for Heaven’s sake!
“Me, too, Mase. Me too.”
“I don’t want to do this anymore, let’s just go back home. Can we go back home, Kylie? Please.” Looking down into the tear stained face of my baby brother broke my heart. He needed me to be strong, to make decisions that would be best for him, not give in to him because he was scared.
Wiping the tears from his face, I told him, “Listen, bud, we’re going to be okay. We’re going to make it through this. I’m scared, too, but going back home isn’t an option anymore. The animals are looking for food and coming into town to find it.” I nodded toward the giant black bear lying dead several yards in front of us. “Let’s stick to the plan. We’ll move on, maybe even find some other survivors along the way. We’re a team, right? It’s you and me against the world!” I held out my fist.
He took a couple deep breaths, sat up a little straighter and I could see the resolve settling into his ocean blue colored eyes. Bumping his fist against mine, he agreed, “Us against the world.”