Anyone? (18 page)

Screw this! Screw
him!

If I hadn’t run into Cole several days before—
Has it
really only been several days? It feels so much longer
—I would have been on
my own anyway, surviving and searching for Dad and Toby myself. Did I need him?

No.

No, I didn’t.

I kept feeding myself that big lie, hoping to embody the
bravery I lacked and desperately needed, especially for what I intended to do.

I slipped the straps of my backpack over my shoulder,
grabbed Callie’s leash, and walked straight out of the store. Yeah, the sun was
setting, and yeah, I didn’t have much of a plan beyond getting away from Cole
and leaving his jack-assery behind, but it didn’t matter. I was
so
over
this.

Survival was mostly about winging it anyway, right? I took a
deep breath and released it. I sure hoped so.

“That’s it, huh? No goodbye?” He stood nonchalantly near the
door, his hands tucked into the front pockets of his camouflage cargo pants.
His shoulders rolled forward and relaxed, as if a burden had been lifted from
them. Maybe it had.

“Yeah, I guess so.” I kept walking, heading for the same set
of stairs the mysterious boy had used earlier. Cole had never really wanted to
help me—I’d coerced him into it with my tears—so now I released him of his obligation.
He was free.

He followed me but kept his distance, moving slowly, and taking
one step for my eager two. “You going to be okay on your own?”

“Yep.” I avoided his eyes as I bent and scooped Callie into
my arms, deciding that letting her walk would hinder my quick escape. She had a
habit of stopping to lick her paws every few feet, and I didn’t need that. No
more distractions. No more dawdling. I wanted a clean break from him before I
changed my mind.

“Do you have everything you need?” He leaned against the
railing, his hands dangling over the side, and watched me descend the stairs.

“Yep.”

“Tess?”

“Yeah?” I shifted the irritated cat to my other arm and
fixed the backpack strap that kept slipping down my shoulder. Hiking with a
bulging backpack that didn’t want to stay put and a feisty cat would be
interesting.

He didn’t say anything for a moment, forcing me to glance up
at him. “I’m sorry... about everything.”

He looked sincere, but that didn’t mean I planned to forget
this whole thing or that I wanted to deal with him any longer. From the moment we’d
met, our relationship had been nothing but aggravation and annoyance. He wanted
to be on his own, live without people, and the more I had gotten to know him,
the more I agreed he probably should. His people skills sucked.

“I’m sorry, too.” I turned away and took the rest of the
steps to the bottom floor. Yes, this was for the best. We were the least
compatible people I had ever met—always fighting and getting on each other’s
nerves. We definitely did not belong together, regardless of the disastrous
situation. An apocalypse wasn’t an excuse for two people to stay together
anyway—though, what better excuse was there? I shook my head.
Whatever.

“Good luck,” he called.

“Thanks.” I kept walking toward the broken doors, stepping
over the shattered glass, and made my way outside.

I stood there for several minutes, breathing in the cool
evening air, and gathering courage.
Don’t think about dead people or
tornados or climbing mountains on your own. Don’t think at all.
Thinking
would only get me into trouble.

The street lights would normally have started to turn on about
this time, but of course the few upright lampposts remained unlit. Papers and
dried leaves tumbled with the warm breeze across the partially empty parking
lot. Adjacent buildings fell into thick shadows. I wasn’t brave and I had no
idea what to do next except place one foot in front of the other.

I began walking.

I left the mall and Cole, and refused to look back.

And as for luck, I would probably need as much of it as I
could get.

Nowhere was safe. Not really. Anything could happen—I’d been
witness to it—but with darkness creeping in and sounds starting to play tricks
on my ears, I needed to find a place to sleep for the night before going full-out
crazy. Perhaps I should have stayed at the mall until morning, but I hadn’t
trusted myself to still have the courage to leave once the sun rose.

Impulsive? Smart? I wasn’t sure.

At this point, I couldn’t go back. Okay, I could, but I
refused. My impulsive decision must have been more than an act of stupidity.

Callie snuggled against my shoulder and tucked herself under
my chin. Her sleepy purrs and warm fur weighed my eyes down, and though I hadn’t
walked more than a handful of miles from East End Mall, and the surrounding
area appeared to have been hit by a bomb—tornado, meteor, who could tell
anymore?—I couldn’t go on.

Most of the homes in the area looked as though they’d topple
to the ground if I sneezed funny. Quite a few others had already met their
demise and lay in heaps of rubble mixed with personal belongings—a shirt, a
doll, family pictures in broken frames, and a pair of kid’s shoes.

A modular home didn’t look half-bad, weird it was still
intact, but the simple act of pushing the door open started a domino effect of
destruction. The back portion of the roof caved in, the walls collapsed, and I
barely had enough time to jump off the porch before the entire thing imploded,
sending up a cloud of dust and debris.

Jeez.
Way too close. And
way
too visual.

I lay sprawled on the dying lawn and couldn’t help but
glance over my shoulders. The roads and side streets remained empty. No Cole.

Good,
I convinced myself and sighed. That settled things.
If there had ever been a time for him to show himself, come to my rescue, this
would have been it. Only, he hadn’t. My stomach hurt a little, knowing Cole
hadn’t bothered to stop me from leaving and hadn’t even followed me, but I
forced myself to take it as a sign I had done the right thing by leaving.

I brushed myself off and made sure Callie was fine before
moving on. The farther I walked, circling blocks and meandering through ruined
subdivisions, the heavier my decision felt. Being on my own had never seemed so
hard, especially when I couldn’t find a safe place to rest.

Another mile of walking in a sleepy daze didn’t prove much
better. Whole areas had been decimated, several miles wide, and that many more miles
long, as though a giant hand had swiped civilization clean.

I had almost resigned myself to sleeping in a shed, better
than nothing, when I spotted a garage door to a tiny brick home across the
street. The door had come disengaged and hung at a lopsided angle. After checking
out the circumference and determining the house sat securely on its foundation,
I figured the garage would do.

I gave the locked back door a firm jiggle and waited.
Nothing tumbled over or crashed in on itself. The roof stayed put, and I
breathed a sigh of relief. The crooked garage door left a gap big enough for me
to crawl through, but before doing anything, I dropped to my knees and removed
a tiny flashlight from my bag.

I knelt next to the hole and carefully aimed the yellow beam
into the darkness. At this moment, I felt extremely grateful we weren’t
fighting the undead or creatures from outer space. For the most part, this
apocalypse was boring, but that suited me fine. To be safe, I refused to put my
hand in the hole, but kept it where I could snatch it back if I had to.

No car. Not much of anything, really. Just the usual garage
stuff—push lawnmower, tires, shovels, ice coolers, and tools.

“Okay, Callie.” I took a deep breath, calming my rising
nerves and doing my best to keep my anxiety in check. No more panic attacks. I
could do this. “Let’s check it out.”

I lay flat on my belly and army-crawled through the space
while dragging Callie along on her leash. She tugged back, not wanting to follow,
but I gave her no choice. I reached back through the gap and hauled my backpack
inside too. I’d be needing it.

A few tools lined the workbench, all orderly and organized.
A dark oil mark in the middle seeped into the wood, but a tiny bit still pooled
on top.
Odd.
I touched it and rubbed it between my thumb and forefinger
before wiping it off on my pants.

I pushed open the side door leading into the kitchen, but waited
a minute before going in just in case the house decided to try and kill me. Nothing
happened. The house was one of the precious few in the area continuing to hold
itself together and stand upright, but I remained cautious anyway.

Everything looked normal. Even the pictures on the walls
hung straight on their hooks.
Strange.
The surrounding area had pretty
much been demolished, but except for the broken garage door, this particular
house appeared untouched.

Callie wanted down, so I set her on her feet but continued
to hold on to her leash. Past experience told me to leave the fridge alone, but
I carefully opened each cabinet and pantry door in hopes of finding a little
something to appease the gnawing in my belly.

I stood in the middle of the linoleum floor with each door
wide open, my bottom jaw nearly hit my chest as I took in the bounty.
The
mother lode.
I swore I heard angels singing.

Each shelf was lined and stocked to overflowing. Cans of all
shapes and sizes, with their labels facing outward, beckoned to me. Jars of
tomatoes, various fruits, green beans, and pickles almost had me drooling. A dozen
jars of peanut butter. That much more of jam—all flavors. Bags of chips,
pretzels, Hostess pastries jam-packed on several shelves with one whole shelf dedicated
to jar after jar of Nutella.
Nutella.

I blinked several times.
No freakin’ way.

The temptation was too much, and I reached for a jar of
Nutella, cracked open the lid and peeled back the safety seal. I dipped my
fingers inside, but hesitated before slipping the chocolaty goodness into my
mouth.

Something wasn’t right here.

Not a hint of dust covered the kitchen table or counters. A
back window, missing its glass, had a board nailed over it. Every piece of
furniture sat upright. Books lined the tall shelves. Only a porcelain figurine,
perched on top of the television, showed any visual damage. Its tiny arm lay
next to it, waiting to be fixed, along with a tube of super glue.

I slipped my chocolaty fingers into my mouth and sucked at
them, not wanting to waste it, and took in my surroundings, noticing for the
first time how “clean” and orderly everything really was. Carefully, I sat the
jar of Nutella on the counter without making a sound, and reached into the side
pocket of my pack to remove my gun.

I bent and tied Callie’s leash to a kitchen chair, turned
off my flashlight, and started down the hall, placing each footstep without a
creek. It took a moment for my eyes to adapt to the dim light, but doing so was
better than walking around with a spotlight on my head—X marks the spot.

The bathroom, though empty, revealed more signs of living—a
toothbrush, comb, a folded towel on the counter and a partially used bar of
soap. Practically brand new.

Angling my body just so, I gently pushed open the bedroom
door while staying hidden. I waited and listened, in case the person I
suspected of claiming this place had plans to blow my head off.

“Hello?” I waited.

No sounds, no shuffling. Nothing.

“I’m friendly, I swear.” I added bonus cheer to my voice,
sounding extra non-threatening. Then I worried I sounded
too
friendly,
like someone they could easily take down should the situation come to that.
Shoot.
“I don’t want any problems. I only want to talk. I promise.”

No response. Whether I should be grateful or disappointed, I
wasn’t quite sure.

I waited a little more and then peeked inside briefly before
returning to the safety of the hall. -The small glimpse had revealed just an
empty, well-made bed, a stack of folded clothes on the dresser, and a coat
draped over a chair.