Without a word, I step into the office and silently cross over to my mother. She sits at the desk typing something on her laptop. I stand there watching, trying to figure out how to greet her when she finally notices me.
"Oh, hi, honey. I didn't hear you come in."
"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," I tell her.
"That's alright." She says, rolling over to me in her chair and wrapping her arms around my waist. I return the gesture. "Are you feeling okay? You were sleeping for a really long time." The darkness outside tells me that she's right. I blink, and the neighborhood shifts between suburbs and forest.
"Yeah, I was just laying there for a while thinking. You look like you could use some rest, though." I tell her. The bags under her eyes are thick and dark. Even just reliving the memory, guilt plagues my chest.
"I will soon. I have a bit more work I have to get done for tomorrow."
"I'm sorry...."
"No, that's okay. I just fell behind on my own." She reassures me. I don't believe her.
"Is Dad home?"
"No, he's still at work. They have him on the night shift now."
"Oh, I didn't know that."
"It was a pretty recent change."
"What about Leigh?"
"I think she's in bed. She has school in the morning."
"Oh yeah, it's Wednesday, isn't it?"
"Mhmm." Mom nods. "Speaking of which, are you ready to go back next week?"
I scratch at my arm and glance at the floor, "Yeah, I think so."
"You don't have to if you're not feeling well still. You can always take another week."
"No, that's okay. I really should get back anyways. I probably already did enough to my grades as is. Besides, you need to be able to get back into work."
"I can go back in any time, Wes."
"I know. But you won't unless I'm back in school."
At that, she doesn't respond. She just purses her lips and stares at the floor. "I bet Valentine will be happy to see you back."
I sit down on the ground and lean my back against the leg of the desk, staring ahead at the open doorway, "It'll be nice to see her again, yeah."
"You don't sound so sure about that." Mom points out.
I shrug, "We just don't talk as much as we used to. She's got a lot of other friends now."
"I'm sure that doesn't mean you matter any less to her."
I defeatedly snicker and hug my knees, "I don't even think she's noticed that I haven't been at school, Mom."
Another round of pursed lips and fingers tapping on the desk as she tries to think of a response, "What about Claireese? Do you still see her around at all?"
I nod, "Yeah, I do. She's got other friends now too, but sometimes we say hi to each other when we pass in the hall. She always seems pretty distant, though."
Mom smirks, "You know what I'm about to say, right?"
"Yeah. That I should reach out more."
"They're not going to bite your head off, Wes. They're your friends; they care about you."
"I'll think about it."
Mom nods, "Okay."
There's a bout of silence, and I feel my throat tighten as my eyes water slightly, "I'm sorry, Mom. I'm not trying to be so negative."
"It's okay, honey; you don't need to be sorry."
"I'm fine, I promise. I actually really am looking forward to going back. If I can pull my grades back, I'll finish really strong for next year."
"I'm glad to hear that, honey." She says. She looks at me with a smile that I long to see again, then leans over in her chair and kisses the top of my head. "We were all thinking about going out for dinner tomorrow night if that's okay with you? Thought it might be a good change of scenery."
"Yeah, that sounds nice. It's been a while since we all went out together."
Mom chuckles, but there's a certain melancholy to it, "Yeah, it has."
No control over the dream comes to me that night, no matter how much I hope for it. I feel myself rising back to the world of the waking and wrestle hard to cling to the moment. Just a few seconds longer, please... Just a little bit of lucidity so I can stay here. I don't even need to change the memory or say anything different. All I want is to sit here with my mother. However, my pleas are in vain, and the dream quickly gives way to its haziness. The room warps and my mom suddenly vanishes from my side, leaving me alone for a few moments before I wake up.
~
When I step outside in the morning, I'm surprised to see that Val isn't waiting for me, especially given how much time I took lying in bed. I walk over to her house, ready to tease her for being the one to sleep in, but when I knock, and she opens the door for me, I quickly put a lid on it.
"Hey." She says with a feigned smile. "I'm sorry, I meant to call you."
"Valentine!" I hear Mrs. Romero lazily call from deep within the home. The aroma of clean laundry and perfume billows through the opening. Val steps outside and closes the door, hugging herself from the chilled autumn air.
"I'm really sorry, Wes. I don't think I can do much today. I-I'm sorry-"
She doesn't need to tell me why. I step closer and put an arm on her shoulder, "Hey, that's okay, don't worry about it. Are you okay? Is there anything I can do to help?"
Val looked ashamedly at the porch, "No, that's alright, but thank you."
"She's not treating you bad, is she?"
"No, she's fine today." Val quickly dismisses. Before I can get another word in, she smiles, "Don't you worry about me, Wes; I'll be fine. I'll text you later if I can slip away, okay?"
The thought of spending the day alone feels like a kick to the gut, but for Val's sake, I suck it up, "Alright, yeah. Just call if you need anything."
"Mhmm. Will do." She says, opening the door and slipping back inside, "Bye, Wes."
The door shuts, and I stand there and stare at it for a moment, unsure of what to do. It's not the first time Val's been occupied; it happens often, especially on our days inside the walls. But now that those days would be every day, I didn't know how to keep busy. Usually, I would work on fixing the helmets or prepping supplies, but there wasn't exactly the need now. And my bandage didn't need to be changed again till tomorrow.
'Mrs. Bauer has our jacket. We can go get it from her.'
'Then we'd have to talk to her.'
'Okay? And?'
'I don't want to.'
'Well, what else are we going to do all day?'
With a heavy sigh, I head back for the sidewalk and start for Mrs. Bauer's house.
I quickly regret the rashness of my decision, as I forget that Mrs. Bauer often sits in her living room, which means she can see me coming before I have the chance to change my mind. I hit the edge of her lawn and am about to keep walking when the door opens.
"Oh, Wes! I was wondering when I would see you today. Come for your jacket, I presume?" She calls out invitingly. She seems so genuinely happy to see me that I string up my best smile and start down the pathway.
"Hi, Mrs. Bauer. Yes, I did."
"Oh good, well, come on in, dear; I've got it right in the other room."
"Oh, um..."
'Don't do it. It's a trap.'
'Stop being dramatic.'
"Alright, sure," I respond.
Mrs. Bauer leads me inside, and it suddenly dawns on me that I've never actually been in the woman's house, only seen it from the doorway. It's decorated with a lot of eccentric knick-knacks that are full of color. There are also some paintings and posters on the wall that all look to be either vintage artworks or antique advertisements that have been framed. Most of them are in other languages. In each room we pass through, she has colorful and ornate rugs decorating the floor and potted plants sprouting like a forest at every turn. The place is not at all what I imagined the mild old woman's home to look like. It's cluttered but in a cozy way, and the house is warm and smells sweet throughout. An authentic, palpable sweet smell, that of baked goods and old books. Not like the one from sun dance.
"Wow, Mrs. Bauer," I can't help but say, "I don't think I've ever been in here before. You have an incredible home."
"Oh, thank you, dear." She chuckles, "It's a bit of a mess right now; I apologize. But it's so nice to have you over! I'm used to Valentine visiting, but I've never been able to book the renowned Wesly!"
"Oh, sorry." I nervously chuckle.
"No need to apologize, dear! I know you have more important things to do than visit a boring ol' coot like myself." She smiles. Before I can deny her claim, she instantly jumps to another topic as we enter the dining room. "It's just in here."
On the table, my jacket is sitting next to a sewing machine as well as a mess of other stitching supplies. Mrs. Bauer picks it up and turns to me with a frown.
"I hope it was okay of me, but I'm afraid I had to take a bit of creative liberty. The hole was too big to sew up normally, so I put a patch on instead." She places her hand under the fabric and holds up the spot where the hole was. In its place is now a navy blue square of silk. "I, unfortunately, didn't have any black." She informs me.
Regardless of the mismatched color, it's certainly an improvement, "Oh, wow, Nora, that's perfect. Thank you so much."
"It was no trouble; I'm happy I could help. Although I still felt awful about having to change the look of it, seeing that you said it was your favorite and all..." Mrs. Bauer starts as she walks over to a chair across the table. Hanging on it is a green military jacket. It looks made out of a thick canvas, and I can see the inside is fleece. The fabric looks well loved but warm, and several decorative patches are stitched on the arms and chest, the latter of which is a nameplate reading 'Traveller'.
"Here." The old woman tells me, "I dug this out of my closet last night. I know it's not the same color, but I thought they were similar in style. It's yours if you'd like it."
It is an enticing jacket for sure, if not for the clear history behind it, but I resist, "Oh, Mrs. Bauer, that's- You didn't have to do that. This looks perfect." I tell her, holding up my own, "I couldn't take that from you. It looks important."
"Nonsense, dear. The thing hasn't been worn in years, maybe even a decade or two. You'd get much more use out of it."
"Still... I'd feel awful taking it from you. I'm not sure what I could pay you for it..."
"I don't need anything, Wesly. When I'm gone, nobody will have room for all of my junk anyways. And there aren't exactly thrift stores to donate to anymore," She chuckles. "If you'll wear it, then It's all yours."
I look at her for a moment, then at the jacket. "A-are you sure?"
"Sure as a sea bass."
I set my jacket on the table, then step forward without a word and gently take the coat. It feels solid and durable. "Thank you," I say to her.
"Of course. Go ahead and try it on. Should be around the same size." She smiles. I do so, and she's correct. It slips on like a glove. "It was my husband's old jacket, although even he hadn't worn it for years before he passed."
I look down at the nametag, "Oh, I didn't realize your husband's last name was Traveller. Did you not take it when you married?"
"Well, it actually belonged to a friend of ours before my husband. I hope that patches aren't too much."
"No, I actually like them a lot," I tell her. On the chest, just above the name and pocket, several small chevrons and shields display different military emblems. On the left sleeve, there's one that catches my eye specifically, though, sticking out from the rest in its design. A pointed window-shaped patch displaying a group of white flowers growing like bells from a stem. Behind the plant looks to be a mountain. It's oddly detailed compared to the rest. I gently press my fingers against it to tilt it closer, and Mrs. Bauer notices.
"Oh, if that one isn't your style, I can try and remove it. It is a little bolder than the rest."
"Oh, no, I like it. It's just very different compared to the others."
"Well, it was sort of intended to be that way. That patch has a bit of history behind it." She says in a wistful tone.
My curiosity is suddenly piqued, "History?"
Mrs. Bauer nods, "It's a longer story than you probably have time for." She chuckles, "But during the Third War, me and husband were part of an organization that smuggled refugees. At different checkpoints, that patch was a sort of calling card to show we were guides."
My eyes slightly widen, and I'm taken aback by the non-chalantness of her statement, "Whoa, Mrs. Bauer, you what?"
"We were refugee smugglers. Although I always preferred the term 'guides'. Smuggler always sounded a bit barbaric to me."
"T-That's incredible, Nora. How did I never know this about you?"
"Well, I thought I might have told you already, though I suppose now that I think about it, it was most likely Valentine."
"How did you even get involved with it? How long ago was this?"
"Oh, a very long time ago, dear. Pretty close to right at the start of the war, I believe. My husband and I ended up stuck in Russia right when war was declared, and when the borders closed, we didn't know how we would get out. Things were dicey then, and we-" she cuts herself short, then looks at me with a smile and shakes her head, "Oh, I'd better stop myself before I start rambling. You came to get your jacket, not for a history lesson. I'm delighted you like the coat."
I look at the old woman and feel a pang of guilt. She'd been my neighbor for years, and I'd never visited her one time. It was clear she stopped herself cause she believed I had no interest in what she was saying. The truth was, though, I was fascinated.
'She gave us an out. Let's just take it and go.'
"A-Actually, Mrs. Bauer, I wouldn't mind hearing more. I think that's all really cool."
'No! What are you—"
"O-Oh! Well, have a seat then, no sense in standing for a conversation," she smiles. I listen to her and back into the living room where I find my way onto one of the antique sofas. She doesn't join me right away, instead, heading to the kitchen where I hear the clinking of glasses while she continues speaking, "As I was saying—Would you like anything to drink dear?" She interrupts herself.
"I'm okay," I respond, nerves slowly growing in my chest. I can't recall the last time I did something like this.
Reentering the room, this time with a fresh mug of coffee in her hands, she tries again, "As I was saying, my husband and I were stuck in Russia right at the beginning of the war."
"What were you two doing all the way over there?"
"Well, dear, my husband was an international operations specialist for a major corporation at the time. His job was to head expenses and analyze sales projections; a whole lot of boring stuff like that that I never quite understood," She chuckles fondly, "One day, he got orders from corporate that they needed him to run numbers on their site in Russia; that was back when everything was just starting to reach its boiling point—The attack on the Bering Strait tunnel had just happened and that was when the government was just beginning to realize that it wasn't an accident at all. I presume they taught you about all of that in school, yes?"
I nod, "The tunnel collapsed and thousands died..."
Nora solemnly nods and continues, "my husband's company knew there would be some big changes when the news finally declared it, and so they hoped to get him out there to things settle things before it was too late."
"They were just going to send him out when tensions were that high?"
"They did."
I even begged him not to go. But you have to understand that the economy was at a low in those times. He couldn't afford to lose his job for the amount he was making. I was just a school teacher, so I certainly wasn't making enough. He had already made up his mind, so I gave him an ultimatum. A bit of an unfair one, I suppose. If he went, he had to take me with him. I wasn't going to let anything happen to him while he was over there and end up separated from my husband."
"How did he feel about that?"
"Oh, he hated it. If I recall correctly, he was cross with me for the whole flight over. He got over it pretty quickly, though."
"So then what? You guys got to Russia, and that's when the war broke?"
"Exactly. My husband took one look at the situation and said to heck with it. He was told to keep the factory running, but we weren't too keen on being trapped in the middle of a country at war. Especially not one of the major cities with a target on its back. It became clear very quickly that his employers weren't going to help us get out; besides, all the airways were shut down immediately in and out of the country."
"So what did you do?"
"There was an employee he had met on the manufacturing floor. A gentleman who told us he knew a group that was smuggling people out of the country to Ukraine. We paid for him to get us out, and the next night, we were crammed in the back of a truck sailing down some Russian back road with a couple dozen other people. It was quite frightening if I do say so," Nora chuckles, "We could have gotten put in prison if we got caught."
"I take it you didn't?"
"No, praise the Lord. We made it to a checkpoint several miles outside the border and that's where we were left. From there, we had two options: hit the road and find our way back to the U.S, or..." Nora takes a long sip from her mug, "On our way out of the country, I sat next to a woman on that truck. She had a young daughter, couldn't have been more than a few years old. She stared at us the whole drive, and I remember she looked so scared and confused... to this day I have no idea what their story was beyond simply seeing them on that truck, but that face stuck with me for a long time. My husband too. We stayed at the checkpoint for a few days, watching as people came in droves, many of them with the same lost expression. Something touched us that day. Gave us a feeling that we needed to help."
"That's pretty crazy that you decided that on a whim like that." I tell her with adoration.
Nora chuckles, "Crazy is one word for it. But we were happy to do it. It started out simple, but as the war went on and things got messier, so did the work. Our runs into war zones stopped being so much about organized groups that had arranged to be picked up, and more so desperate refugees that we found surviving among the rubble and escorting them out to safety. That was what the patch was for," She explains, "Word got around that people wearing it were guides—or smugglers, so they knew who to look out for."
"I can't believe they never told us about this kind of stuff in school." I say, trying to talk her up. I admit that Val was right, it's amusing to see how much Nora simply enjoys talking with me.
She scoffs humbly, "Oh, well, it really was small in the grand scheme of things; nothing that would make the big history. To all of those people saved though, it made all the difference. Besides, the organization we were working with was trying to keep the operation a secret, they didn't want word to get out."
"Oh, it was an official group that you were with?"
"Well, in a sense. They weren't government; at least, I don't think. When my husband and I joined, it was just a small group, but at some point later in our work, the institution came to our people in charge and offered them help. They provided financial aid other support and really asked nothing in return. They even offered to take the injured we found in the war zone to their facilities for medical aid."
"Well that was nice of them..." I say, slightly skeptical, "Oddly charitable for a non-governmental organization."
"Oh, I don't know—perhaps they were. Their name was some sort of acronym, so it seemed official. It's been so many years now, and I personally interacted with them very little, so I don't quite remember. I think there was a 'P' in there somewhere..."
A beeping from Nora's kitchen interrupts her train of though, and she quickly stands, "Oh goodness, I almost forgot I had something baking in the oven! Sorry dear, one moment." The elderly woman hops up and shuffles off to the kitchen. I hear some clattering around before she calls out, "Shoot... Wesly, dear, I'm terribly sorry, but I forgot that today was Wednesday; I have a bible study over at Tom's." She returns to the room and frowns, "I'm afraid I have to cut our visit short."
"Oh," I stand, "T-That's alright. It was still nice talking with you a bit."
"It certainly was." She smiles, "I hope I didn't bore you too much."
"No, not at all. That story was fascinating." I pause for a moment before I continue, "If you're around sometime, maybe I can stop by again and you could tell me some more about it?"
Nora's face looks taken back but then pleasantly surprised, "I would very much enjoy that, Wes. I'm almost always here, so you can stop by anytime you'd like."
I feel a strange lump in my chest, although it's not one of anxiety. It feels more like an odd sense of ease.
"Thank you again for the jacket." I tell her, "Both of them." I chuckle, picking up my old black coat. "Are you sure you want me to have this one?"
"More than certain. Although, could you do me just a small favor in return?"
"Of course. What is it?" I ask.
She returns to the kitchen, where cookies sit on a baking rack. She pulls out a couple of containers from a cupboard and carefully divides the goods between them.
"I take some of these to the study with me, but I told Claireese I would also make a few for her. Would you mind delivering them for me?"
A small jolt runs through me at Claireese's name. We may still bump into each other quite a bit, but I had never visited her at home. I put up a smile anyway, "Oh, yeah, sure. I didn't know she visited."
Nora nods, "She's a bit of a reclusive one, but she does come out occasionally. A bit like somebody else I know." She teases to me. I chuckle at her remark and rub my arm.
After the cookies are boxed up, she hands me a container and walks me to the front door.
"Thank you again, Nora."
"Of course, dear. Thank you for visiting. I'll see you soon, I hope?"
"Sure, yeah." I smile.
I step outside as she shuts the door behind me, and the cold, quiet, streetlit darkness wraps around me again like a blanket. I breathe out and start down the sidewalk, pulling my new jacket further onto my shoulders.
As I head for Claireese's house, my head starts to run with thoughts. Whenever we bumped into her these days, she really didn't seem in the mood for talking. But, if she was visiting other people, maybe it was because she just didn't like us anymore? She always did treat us like we hardly knew her. Although, I guess these days, we really didn't. It had been years since we had all hung out together. After you drift apart from a good friend, there comes a point where they grow beyond what you once knew and just become a stranger again....
'It'll be okay. You're just dropping off cookies, is all. We can leave right after.'
'There's someone in the road ahead.'
I look ahead to see a figure standing on the sidewalk. He looks toward the wall on the other side of the park and stands perfectly still. They look familiar, and it takes me a moment to realize it's the man I saw at the meeting a couple of days ago. The one sitting in the back. He has the same coat on and hat covering the top of his face, so it seems he hasn't noticed me yet. I consider crossing the street to avoid him, especially since he's right in the middle of the sidewalk, but if he has seen me coming, I don't want to seem rude if I avoid him. Instead, I continue forward and shuffle around him.
"Excuse me," I mutter as I pass.
"Do you hear that?" The man speaks out of nowhere. His voice is not what I expected from such an intimidating person. It's deep, but soft and quiet. I almost didn't hear him.
"I'm sorry?"
"Do you hear that?" He asks again. "Listen closely."
I stand still beside the man and listen. It takes a moment to register what he's referring to. In the distance, somewhere beyond that wall, a crow is cawing. Now that I notice it, I realize it's been there since I stepped outside. Birds are still around, of course; they're one of the few animals that have been thriving since the vanishing. However, they adapted quickly to keep quiet and not draw attention. Rarely did you hear the chirping or songs of any avians these days.
"The crow?" I ask.
The man nods. "It's been out there for a while. You don't hear them too often anymore."
"No, not really."
"They're smart creatures, though. Really smart. They set up sentries sometimes to alert others of threats nearby while others feed. Maybe something is out there."
A sense of unease begins to build in my chest.
"Aren't there always things out there?" I tell him.
"Yeah. But that guy sounds like he's calling from inside the grid." There's a pause as I don't know how to respond, but the man turns away, "I'd better get home, just in case. I'd recommend you do the same. It's dangerous out here for a young person like yourself."
Before I can say anything else, the man is already walking away and down the street.
'What was that all about?'
'I don't know, but I didn't like it. Let's just keep moving.'
I continue to Claireese's house, now aware of the constant cawing behind me. I try to dismiss the thought and instead focus on mentally preparing myself for the conversation ahead. I stop before the path to the front door and look to the front window before starting forward.
'Maybe I can just knock and leave it on the doorstep. She might not even be home right now.'
'Wes, come on. You just had a whole visit with Mrs. Bauer. This is nothing.'
As I reach the front door, I pause for a long while before finally focusing all my courage into a gentle knock. It's so soft that I'm almost sure it would be inaudible, and I'm fully ready to pretend she's not home and leave the cookies, but then I hear footsteps.
The front door swings open a crack, and Claireese's unamused face peers out. However, her apathetic expression falters for a moment when she sees that it's me.
"Wes?" She says, opening the door all the way. She glances outside past me and scans around before continuing, "What are you doing here?"
"Hey, Claireese." I stammer out. "Sorry to bother you. I was just visiting with Mrs. Bauer. She asked me to deliver these to you." I say, handing her the box of cookies."
"Oh." She says plainly, taking them from me. "Well, tell her I said thanks."
"Yeah, will do." I nod. We stare at each other for probably way too long in silence, and I'm about to say goodbye before she speaks again, "Where's your little partner at? I thought you two went everywhere together."
"Oh, she had some stuff to take care of today."
"I see. And what about you? I didn't know you visited Nora."
"I usually don't, but she fixed my jacket for me," I say, holding up the patched-up black coat. "What about you? I didn't know you did either."
"I have for a while now. Almost since sophomore year of high school."
"Oh, I didn't know that."
"Well, we weren't talking a whole lot then."
"Y-Yeah, I guess not."
Things fall silent again before I take the reigns this time, "Well, it was good to see you. I can leave you be, now. See you later, Claireese."
I turn to walk away, but she stops me, "Kid, you don't have to always act like you're bothering me. I don't mind running into you."
"O-Oh, do I do that a lot?"
"You and Val both. You did it at the park the other day too."
"Oh, I'm sorry...." I tell her, fidgeting with the edge of my coat.
"No, Wes, I'm not- You don't have to be sorry. I'm just saying."
"Oh, sorry."
Claireese sighs, "Alright, well, I guess I'll just talk to you lat-"
A sound rings out over the neighborhood that makes me jump. The high-pitched singing of a bird. When I said that you rarely hear the singing of birds anymore, I meant real ones. Not the distinct bird calls that the compound uses to alert us of a wall breach.
The song drones out, and I instinctively whip my head to the road and scan for any threat that could be nearby. When I don't see anything, I turn back to Claireese with only one thought on my mind.
'Get back home. Make sure everyone is okay along the way.'
"Lock your door. Be safe, Claireese. Talk to you later." I tell her before spinning on my heels and prepping to sprint. Before I can, I feel a choking sensation around my neck as I try to take off. Claireese yanks me hard through her doorway. I'm so caught off guard that I have no time to fight it. She slams the door and locks it before scowling at me.
"What the hell!" I snap, annoyed and rubbing my neck. "I have to get home."
"Are you out of your mind? We're in lockdown. You enter the closest building and stay there."
"I'll be fine, Claireese."
"Like hell. You're staying here till' it's safe."
"I didn't realize you were my boss."
She rolls her eyes, "Oh, shut up and stop trying to act tough. Let's go. She says, walking back into the hallway. I look back to the door and grit my teeth.
'Don't. Everyone will be fine; you'll just upset Claireese.'
With a huff of air, I turn and follow.
I haven't been in her house since I was a kid. She's cleaned it up an awful lot since then, probably since she's the only one living here now. The air smells sweet of sundance, and to my surprise, there's no trace of cigarettes. Everything looks immaculate and tidy, albeit lacking a lot of decoration.
When I catch up, Claireese emerges from somewhere in her bedroom and enters the bathroom.
"C'mon." She tells me with a hand wave.
I step inside and shut the door behind me, clicking the lock into place. Meanwhile, she climbs into the bathtub and lays back. I take a seat on the toilet lid. Then, we listen. Through drywall and slats, we focus on any sounds we can discern. My heart beats steadily in my chest as I try to not worry. I take my phone from my pocket and text Val.
Are you safe?
Yeah. R u? She responds near instantly
Yes.
Good. Stay safe.
Will do. You too.
I jam the slab back into my pocket and then return to listening. I don't hear a sound other than the occasional shift from Claireese and my own breathing. Whatever is outside, it must be stalking. I hope that Six and her team can handle it....
Trying to take my mind off of things, I look to Claireese. She sits in the bathtub, blankly staring forward at the wall, hugging herself and bouncing her leg. She seems nervous, and I start to try and think of something to say to her to lighten the mood. It's hard, though. I feel bad that I got heated with her just moments ago, and on top of that, things between Claireese and us are complicated, to say the least.
When we were young, there were really only three of us kids in the neighborhood, Leigh, Val, and I. We spent most of our time outside playing and running around at the park. None of us ever wanted to be home when we could help it. One day though, another kid showed up; moved into the house just a lot away from the playground. Claireese was shy and quiet when we first met her. We saw her sitting on her porch while we all climbed around on the jungle gym. She was watching us, and it was clear that she wanted to join in, but her social binds wouldn't let her. Val intended to break them, however.
"Hi! My name is Val!" She declared, sticking a small hand out to Claireese. The little girl nervously looked at it and then took it. The second their palms met, Val yanked her to her feet and smiled, "What's your name?"
"C-Claireese." She told us quietly.
"It's nice to meet ya' Claireese! This is Wes and Leigh, they're my friends. Do you wanna come play lava monster with us?"
"Oh- um..."
"Yeah! C'mon!" Leigh encouraged, "It's fun!"
"Yeah... Sure, okay." Claireese hesitantly agreed.
That's the moment it all started. Our little group. It took some work to break down her walls, knocking on her door and asking her to come out every day. Still, eventually, she warmed up to us, and the four of us became inseparable. We did pretty much everything together. Lunch and recess at school were always spent in each other's company, and as soon as we got home, it was straight back outside to meet up at the park. We'd milk every minute of daylight out of each evening, playing games, telling stories, and enjoying each other's company.... Claireese was just shy of two years older than us, so she was a grade above, but that was never an issue. After all, Leigh was a grade below us, and that never caused any problems. This meant that Claireese went to middle school before we did, but things were still good for a long time. Our middle school and elementary were combined, so we still saw her all the time.
Things changed when she hit high school, though.
Val and I had to wrap up eighth grade when Claireese made the jump. High school was a whole other ballpark. She still talked to us, but it never seemed like she had much time to. She was a lot busier, and on top of that, she started to seem more distant in personality, like she was having a hard time connecting. She had made other friends that she had to keep up with too; we weren't the only ones now. Hangouts were still frequent, and she really did make a big effort to be involved with us. But soon, visits became less steady, and by the time Val and I made it to high school ourselves, we all started to struggle a bit. I was kind of absent during that time, and if I'm being honest, I don't recall much. I began to recluse, and I didn't see much of anyone other than Leigh. Claireese kept trying to keep up with us and hold on to what we had, but one person could only carry so much of a relationship. Val got involved with a ton of activities; sports, student council, and clubs. She made an absurd amount of new friends and kind of slipped into a popular position, the opposite type of group than the one Claireese had found herself in. Val still talked to us and always remained our friend, but none of us were connecting anymore. Leigh was a grade below, I was utterly lost, Val was distant, and Claireese just couldn't wait around any more. She had new friends and was honestly probably better off with them.
I remember the exact moment it started, but it haunts me that I didn't realize it was ending until it was already over.
None of us could really do anything. It was upsetting that we didn't talk anymore, and looking back on those days as kids, I can't help but long to go back to them. Back to when we all cared. But we can't go back. I can't undo my absence from Claireese's life. I can't undo my abandonment. That's why it's so hard to think of what to say to her.
"Do you mind?" She says, jarring me back to reality. I'd been staring at her the whole time.
"Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to-"
"No, Wes, I mean, do you mind?" She asks, holding up a couple petals of sundance.
"Oh, um, no. Go ahead."
She pulls a slip of rolling paper out and snickers as she creates the joint, "You apologize too much, you know that, kid?"
"Sor- I mean, um... Yeah."
She finishes rolling and then places it to her lips before lighting it up with a zippo in her pocket. She takes a long drag before puffing out the orange glow and leaning back in euphoria. Her eyes ever so slightly tinge with the same aura.
"Why do you always call us kids?" I ask her, "You're only like a year older." I tell her.
"Two years."
"One and half." I correct.
She giggles, "Oooo getting specific are we?" She takes another drag, fueling her giddiness more before she speaks again, "Does it bother you?"
"I mean, no, I guess not. Just feels weird, is all."
"Whatever you say, kiddo." She chuckles. She takes another hit, and her eyes are solidly orange at this point. "I guess just cause I still see you and Val running around like when we were kids. Playing at the playground and shit."
"Well, we aren't really playing...."
"What are you doing then?"
"Just... You know, staying fit, I guess. Making sure we know how to fight."
"You think that will help you against one of those creatures outside?"
"Probably not. But at least it's something."
Claireese chuckles and pulls in some more smoke before holding the roll out to me.
"I'm good, thanks."
"You really have never tried it, huh?"
I shake my head.
"Well, you're missing out, kid." She says, taking another long drag before smiling at the wall. I shift on the seat and stare at the floor, to which Claireese seems to take notice. Her smile fades slightly, and she runs a hand through her hair, "So, what have you actually been up to lately?"
"Huh?" I turn to her.
"Y'know, like... What's new, I guess? Whenever I see you these days, we never exactly get to catch up. What's Wesly Neyome doing these days to stay sane in the apocalypse?"
"Oh, um, not much, I guess. Just hanging around."
"Oh, come on. I see you and Val running back and forth through town all the time. You have to have something going on."
I chuckle, "Not really. We just kind of hang out from day to day and try not to lose our minds." While not necessarily the truth, if you took away all our runs outside the wall, that really is what we do.
"You haven't taken up any hobbies or anything? Weren't you like super into tech a while back or something?"
"Yeah, I wanted to be an electronics engineer. I'm surprised you remembered that...."
"I remembered you being a nerd." She smirks.
I roll my eyes at her and continue, "These days, there isn't exactly much opportunity anymore, though. Besides, nobody would want to hire a high school dropout." I joke. That manages a small laugh from her that makes me smile, even if it's just the sundance talking.
"Hey, you didn't get a choice in that matter. If the world hadn't ended, I'm sure you would have made a great electronics inventor."
"Engineer."
"Whatever."
"And I don't know. I still try to fix old junk I find sometimes, but even the simple stuff I can't figure out. I don't know if I would have been good at it."
"I'm sure that's not true. After you went through all the schooling and shit, I bet you woulda' rocked it. I always thought you were super smart."
"Oh, um, thanks," I say.
"Yeah."
Things fall silent again, and the warmth of conversation starts to fade.
'Come on, Wes. It's just like old times. Just talk to her.'
"How about you?" I say, "You um... You still working at the gas station down on Gleeson?"
Claireese looks at me with confusion before slowly starting to giggle, "Oh, yeah, totally. Five days a week, baby."
"I bet the customers out there are pretty rude."
"Oh, they're monsters." She smirks.
"Seriously, though, how have you been?" I ask.
Claireese takes a final drag from the tiny stub of sundance, then lets it fall to the tub floor, where she sweeps it down the drain. "Oh, you know. Just surviving. Taking it slow. One day at a time."
"I don't see you around too often. Do you just go out to visit Nora?"
"Yeah, pretty much. Sometimes I'll join Myra and her gang but other than that, I just kind of stay in. Get high and play my guitar. Shit like that."
"You play guitar?"
"Yeah, I never told you that?"
"No, I don't think so. That's really cool, though."
"Oh, yeah. Been playing since, like, Junior year? Maybe the end of sophomore? I don't even know anymore, man. I stopped keeping track of time a long time ago."
"If you stopped keeping track, how do you know how long ago it was?"
"Shut up." She chuckles. "When I run out of sundance, though, I just go to the park to smoke cigarettes and think. It may be unsafe outside, but I honestly find it kind of peaceful. It's quiet out there. You can just live in that stillness for as long as you want. Not have to worry about anything...."
I rub my arm, "The garden by Mrs. Bauers house is nice too." Claireese turns her eyes back to me, "Especially when it's raining. You can hear it hitting all the leaves and stuff. It's nice."
Claireese nods, "I'll have to try that sometime." Her eyes lock with mine and remain there for the first time in what feels like an eternity. It's familiar. Like for a moment, we know each other again.
'Tell her you're sorry, Wes. Tell her you wish you had been around more.'
The thought forms as a lump in my chest that slowly rises to my throat. It climbs to the tip of my tongue before I swallow it back down and look away.
'Not right now. It'd just be weird.'
My breakaway causes a beat of awkwardness before claireese clears her throat and speaks, "So you ready?"
"Ready for what?"
"The move. You're out at River Run with me, right?"
"Oh, um, yeah," I tell her. "I actually didn't know you were out there were us."
"Didn't you hear the list?"
"Well, yeah, but I guess I zoned out a bit. I was kind of in shock at it all."
Claireese glances away from me and pulls her hands from her knees back to her stomach, "Oh, yeah, Val is going to Sunset, isn't she?"
"Yeah. She is."
Claireese shrugs, "Well, hopefully, she'll be better off over there. I hear they're one of the bigger compounds. She'll have lots of people to talk to. That's what she's always wanted."
Her coldness takes me back for a moment, but I can't tell if it's bitterness or just her usual stoney demeanor.
"Oh, um, sure yeah, I'm sure she'll be happy to meet new people. She's still pretty upset, though. There's a lot of people here she cares about." I tell her. When she doesn't respond, I switch gears, "How about you?"
Claireese snickers, "Ah, it's whatever. I'll be fine where ever I am."
"That doesn't mean you're not upset about it."
"Well, yeah, I'm gonna miss Nora and everyone else on the block, but I never really got to know a lot of the people around here in the first place. It's just whatever, y'know? Not much of a point to anything these days, so why even worry about it."
I take a moment to try and think of something to respond with, but I never get the chance. Outside, the faint burst of silenced gunfire rattles off, and the two of us go perfectly still, listening. An inhuman screech wails out in pain, followed by several more a few seconds later.
Claireese sinks down in the tub, and I put my hand on my knife and lean back against the toilet. We don't do any talking after that. We just sit silently for the next few hours, listening closely for hints of what might be happening outside. There's some more gunfire and screaming every now and then until, finally, after nearly three and a half hours, I hear the signal from the speakers outside chirping that's safe. I turn to Claireese to see her reaction but find that in the last hour of silence, her head has slumped against the wall. She's fast asleep.
'Let her rest. She seemed really tired.'
I silently stand and walk out to her living room.
'You're really just going to leave without saying anything though?'
I casually look around, finding what I'm looking for on a side table by her couch. A pen. I return to the bathroom and tear a small piece of toilet paper before writing my phone number on it, then set it on the counter. I've had many phones in the time that we've stopped talking. Hopefully, she still cares to have my number.
I make sure to lock her door from the inside before letting myself outside. I start to make my way back home but stop when I see the light on in the garage of the red house.
I curve off and walk around to the back, knocking on the door before pushing it lightly. It comes open effortlessly. I close it after stepping inside and head for the garage. Opening the door, I see Val sitting on the floor in front of the heater, reading a book. She jumps when she sees me but quickly smiles.
"Oh, hey." She starts, "You scared me."
"You left the door unlocked," I tell her.
"Oh, did I? I guess I just forgot when I came in," she says, staring at the floor. Her eyes are distant.
I step closer and crouch to hug her, "You alright?"
She nods.
"You wanna talk about it?"
She shakes her head.
I hold her for a couple seconds longer before letting her go, "I can leave you alone if you want."
"No, stay. Don't worry about me, I'm fine. Is it alright if we just... don't talk, though? I think I'm at my limit for the day."
I snicker, "Yeah. I get that."
She gives me a warming smile, "Thanks, Wes."
I silently mouth you're welcome, to which she laughs, then I head back into the house to grab my pack. I then take my helmet out and get set up on the workbench. We may not need them anymore, but I suppose having a hobby couldn't hurt.
Val reads on as I look over the board for another time. I know there has to be something that I'm missing. Unfortunately, the only multimeter I had broke, so I can't test currents, which means I have to go on sight alone. Pair that with my limited knowledge and how badly they're damaged, and these boards have been stunting me for a long time. I continue tracing the board with my eyes and glancing at books I have to try and find anything when I finally see it. A minor erosion on one of the traces. I grab some wire and carefully solder a bit in place, clean it up, then connect the board back to the helmet.
"Just give me something...." I plead under my breath as I plug the helmet in to charge. I wait a minute before trying to turn it on, and... Nothing. The indicator on the helmet remains dim, and as far as I can tell, nothing inside is functioning. I sigh with disappointment and shift the helmet to unplug it and try again, and that's when a small flash catches my eye. The light dimly and rapidly blinks, and on the inside of the visor, I can see tiny LEDs trying to wake up.
"Oh!" I yelp in excitement.
Val looks up, "What? What is it?"
I don't answer. Instead, I shift the helmet around, hoping to get a better angle for the parts to connect. I watch as the light goes from a dull flicker to a bright one. The lights still rapidly blink, threatening to give out at any minute, but the tech is functioning nonetheless.
"Yes!" I cry out.
By this point, Val has stood, walked over, and seen my handiwork, "Holy crap, Wes, You did it!"
She holds out a hand for me to high-five, which I accept. Our giddiness dies momentarily as we just sit and watch the struggling lights, and I hear it in that silence. A faint murmur. It's almost inaudible, but it's certainly there.
"Do you hear that?"
"What?"
"It sounds like someone talking," I tell her. At first, I think it's coming from outside the garage, but I quickly realize it's coming from the helmet. "Holy crap..."
I grab the dial by the side of the helmet's left antenna and gently turn it up. The voice slowly grows louder until the speakers max out. Val and I look at each other and then lean in close.
Through crackly static and a wavering frequency, we hear, "-ose bastards- ... extra active lately."
"You think-... overwhelmed the comp-... Gresham?"
"-way. If those-.... on their own, we- ... chance..."
Val turns to me, "Is that...?"
"It sounds like Six and her squad," I say, finishing her thought.
"No way... We're tapped into their radio!" Val exclaims. "That's so sick!"
"Too bad we can hardly hear anything," I grumble.
"Hey, give yourself some credit. This is so cool, Wes."
I place my fingers on the dial for the opposite antenna and turn that one, hoping to maybe get a better frequency. The sound of the guard's radio chatter fades out and is quickly replaced by static. Tilting it back and forth reveals that the signal isn't going to get any clearer.
"Keep going past it." Val encourages, "Maybe there are other ones we can listen in on."
I do so, but for the most part, we mainly seem to get static. Anything else we hear is far too faint to make out. That is until...
"...ease, send help."
A chill runs through my spine. Val goes pale. She crouches down to get closer to the helmet.
There's nothing but static for a long beat, and I'm almost convinced that we imagined it until the voice speaks again.
"If anyone-... -ease respond. We are-... elp. We are from-... mmunity, and have been separ-... attack. Only four-... now, and we are in dire-... ance. We are currently-... ascus bus garage, and are-... resources to survive. If-... please, send help."
The first time through is all we need to grab a pen and paper and start mapping out the whole message between the static. It's repeating. Words are jumbled and cut off so abruptly that it's hard to really pin anything down, and even when we do, we'll realize it's wrong the next go around and have to scrap the whole section. By the time we finally get down a functioning method, it's too late.
Pop!
Something in the circuit board blows out, cutting our decyphering short. I curse under my breath, but fortunately, we have enough to piece something coherent together.
Whoever the signal belongs to is calling for help, and they're from a community that was attacked. Only one comes to mind. The important part, though, is that they were able to give a location. We know where the missing survivors are.