Bo and the Beast (Book #1) (Completed)

2. Leaving

Little shimmering waves glinted in the dips and rivets in the ground, the heat pounding down like a hammer on Bo's head. She pulled off her bandanna and wrapped it over her head, tying it securely at the base of her skull. Her hair spilled out the back, keeping her neck cool and brushing against her bare arms. The dust kicked up as she walked around the camp, making sure everything was in order. Women looked up and smiled, and children stood at a distance, watching her with awed eyes. The men dipped their heads in respectful greeting. They were all friends that she had known since she was little. Father had banded them together before she was even born, at the start of the war, keeping them alive when there was no hope of living. Now they all expected that same lifestyle to go on, a small sort of peace and safety under her father's care. If only old age was something that could be avoided.

Her rounds were spent checking on equipment and supplies, and inspecting the wall. The heat of the day faded to be replaced by the chill of late evening. Already it was beyond dinner time and she hadn't even noticed. She ran a hand over her eyes, but there was still one more section of wall to check before she would let herself rest.

She went to the main gate which would soon be guarded by two men of the settlement during the dark hours. When the sun dipped behind the horizon, the guards would be stationed and the floodlights switched on. Anything within a hundred yards outside of the main gate would be saturated in white light and covered by the sights on the two men's power rifles. There was no such thing as being too careful in the Blast Zone.

Bo paused by the gate, checking the rusty platform that the guards always stood on. It rose to around chest height, and was only a few feet below the edge of the wall. Ramshackle like the rest of the junk in the settlement. She fought the urge to kick it.

Her gaze strayed to the spot where the hoppers, their two-wheeled vehicles, were parked under the platform and locked onto heavy chains rooted deep into the ground. The only keys were kept by her, Aston, and her dad, effectively limiting all transportation to only those people they gave permission to. It wasn't a particularly fair system, but it made sure they didn't burn through their limited gas too fast.

One space was empty in between the vehicles. Already little drifts of dust gathered in the long absence of the hopper that belonged there. Bo shuffled her feet around to sweep out the dust and reveal the cement below. The chain that should go around the handlebars lay forlorn on the ground, and Bo thought of her father. Old, his hair now graying, with lines around his eyes and mouth. He shouldn't have been alone on the scavenging mission, but she couldn't spare anyone to go with him. And he would fight her hard if she ever mentioned staying in the camp full-term to him. 

What was taking him so long in getting back? Nervous energy rippled in her arms, and she turned, stalking to the gate. The men on guard duty were just showing up, coming to check over their equipment as the sun slowly set, but she brushed by them without a word. She knew they stared at her as she pulled open the gate and slid out. Their footsteps rushed up the creaking platform to see what she was doing.

Unzipping a pocket in her crimson jacket, she pulled out a small flashlight, clicking the button on the back and activating the cell within. It hummed with energy, spilling light onto the darkening path ahead of her and illuminating the tips of her scuffed brown boots. She walked the path until she came to the start of the Dead Wood, and stopped there. The trees rose like cement buildings out of the dust. No leaves. Only branches and fossilized trunks, coated in more dust. The ever-present tinge of orange.

Through the woods was the way to the abandoned houses from the pre-war times, where the camp had been looting for countless years. Dad was somewhere out there. She could fool herself, if she tried, into thinking he might be right over the small ridge. He could be resting behind those trees, waiting until the cool of evening to come back in. But she knew it wasn't true. He would have picked up his radio if that was the case.