Schism (19 page)

As she spat out these last words, she pointed to her chest with both of her constrained hands for emphasis. Then she threw herself back against her seat, forgetting her shoulder wound, and yelped in pain. Ben started to reach out to her, but she turned away and curled into a ball.

“Just drive, Ben,” she mumbled dully as she shut her eyes, spilling tears down her cheeks. “Just drive.”

But he made no move to obey. Instead, he remained quite still and gazed at her and then out the windshield for a long moment. “When I saw you fall to the ground on the field, I thought that was it. I thought you were dead, and it…” He didn’t finish.

Andy remained still and made no sound of acknowledgment. Ben looked and saw the rise and fall of her ribcage. She was already asleep. She hadn’t heard him.

He released a sigh and put the truck back into drive.

***

When Andy awoke, she noticed the truck wasn’t moving. After blinking her eyes open, she glanced at the clock on the dashboard. It read 4:07. She rolled over and saw that Ben had pulled to the side of the road to take a nap. His seat was reclined as far as it would go, and he was lying on his back with his arms crossed over his chest. His face was turned slightly toward her.

A wave of guilt struck her as she lamented her earlier words to him. He was the last person who deserved her anger. He had traveled alone across hundreds of miles. And had found her. She should have thanked and hugged him a thousand times for dragging her off the field and getting her out of the city alive. Instead, she had scorned him for not reaching her sooner.

Tenderly, she reached toward him until the rattle of her handcuffs made her withdraw. She turned away and opened the door to step outside. Her legs ached and her hunger and thirst were overwhelming. She glanced back and forth along the dark, abandoned highway before shutting the door. The sound woke Ben, and by the time she walked around the front of the truck and opened the driver’s door, he was already rubbing his eyes.

“I’ll drive if you want to sleep,” she offered.

He looked up at her and bobbed his head drowsily.

He stepped outside and started to move by her when she grabbed his arm. “Wait.” She threw her encumbered arms over his head. “Thank you,” she whispered into his ear and hugged him tightly. “Thank you for finding me.”

He gently pulled her head toward him and kissed the top of her head.

“I almost died,” she said into his chest.

“I know.”

Abruptly, she pulled away and slipped into the driver’s seat. “Let’s get moving,” she said crisply in an effort to push back more tears. “Is there any food and water?”

“Uh, yeah. There’s a bag behind the seat.” He walked to the other side of the truck and climbed in. “You must be starving.”

“More than I can ever remember.”

They drove in silence as Ben fell back asleep. Andy was wide-awake. It was as though all her senses had been suddenly heightened. The wound in her shoulder throbbed, but strangely, it didn’t bother her. It reminded her that she was still alive.

The first mile marker she noticed read “157,” and shortly after that, she saw signs for Grand Canyon National Park. She glanced at Ben and checked the gas gauge. He and Jim had recalibrated it to reflect the two additional tanks that had been added. The needle currently stood at just over half a tank, which really meant that more than a tank and a half of gas remained, not including the full containers in the truck bed. She knew it would be a frivolous waste of a rare commodity, but the image of the boy leaving the locker room and his haunting last words echoed again in her mind.

Screw it
.

When the truck reached the exit for Route 64 heading north, she took it.

***

Andy heard the sound of tiny rocks shifting as Ben’s footsteps approached.

“Is that what I think it is?” he said as he drew up beside her.

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” she whispered, her eyes fixed on the majestic view. “My mom always talked about bringing me here.”

Ben watched Andy as she spoke. The gentle morning wind played with her hair, the red-orange light reflecting off her glowing cheeks.

“After she died, my dad asked me if I wanted to come here that summer…the summer of the virus, but I didn’t want to go without her. So we went to Bermuda instead.” She looked down at her foot and kicked at a rock, let out a tiny laugh, and said, “My mother travelled all over the world for her concerts, but the one place she really wanted to come was here, and now I understand why.” Then looking over at Ben for the first time, “Have you ever been here before?”

He shook his head. “No. Just pictures.”

“Not the same.”

“Not even close.”

They stared at a view that once drew millions.

“Wish I still had my old phone to take a picture,” said Ben. “Even if a picture isn’t the same.”

“I never had a phone. My parents said an iPod was enough.”

“You didn’t feel left out?”

“What, texting?” She shook her head. “I didn’t have many friends to text anyway.”

Ben turned away from the view and looked behind him. Andy had driven off the visitor’s parking lot and onto the sidewalks that lead directly to the lookout named Mather Point. “Are the keys in the truck?”

“Yeah. I left them in the ignition.”

“Is there some kind of welcome center or something like that?”

“Yeah, it’s right back there.” She gestured toward the direction with her head.

“I’ll be right back.”

When Ben returned, Andy was sitting on the large slab of stone at the observation point, her gaze fixed on the view. “I hit the jackpot,” he said as he approached carrying a plastic bag.

“Yeah? What’d you find?”

“Trail mix and dried fruit in the gift shop. There were bottles of water too, but all plastic.”

Over the years, the chemicals in the plastic broke down and contaminated the water, making it undrinkable. Glass-bottled water was like gold, and finding any left was rare. Trail mix and dried fruit, however, never really went bad, despite what the expiration date read. The taste would be stale, but it kept a person alive.

Ben dropped the bag of food on the ground as Andy slid off the slab and met him at the rail that ran around the perimeter of the observation point. It was no longer stable.

“Just don’t lean on it,” he warned.

They stood watching the sunrise as the light danced off the vastness of the landscape.

“How did you know where to find me?”

He smiled sheepishly, and Andy was once again struck by how handsome he was.

“I didn’t. It was total dumb luck. The address in Los Angeles I was given turned out to be a dead end. But then some random people told me about the stadium, so I took a stab in the dark and went there. If it hadn’t been for them, I would’ve missed you.”

“But you didn’t. You found me and got me out of there.”

“I might’ve gotten you out of there, but you shot the guy on the field. How did you do it? I thought you only got one bullet.”

“There was a bullet in my pocket from one of our hunting trips. I found it when I got to the field.”

He turned away and shook his head. “Unbelievable. But why didn’t you just shoot him with the first bullet?”

“Because I wanted him to think that I didn’t have anything left to kill him.” Then, after a pause, “I also suspected that the first bullet was a blank.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, why not? Whoever controls that game doesn’t actually want anyone to win, so why risk using a real bullet when no one can tell the difference from a blank.”

“You can tell from the recoil. Did it feel different?”

“Honestly, it’s all a blur to me. My heart was racing so fast…I barely remember anything.”

“Well, it was a hell of a shot you made. I couldn’t believe it when I saw you sit up and fire it off.”

“Me neither.” She looked down at her feet and kicked at another stone. “I’ll still never get used to the idea that I’ve killed people.”

“You’d be dead if you hadn’t shot that guy.”

“I know. I’m not sorry about it, but it’s still weird knowing that I’m actually capable of doing it.”

“You ever kill anyone before? Besides that one time in DC?”

“No, never. I don’t think it’s something I ever
want
to get used to.”

“You shouldn’t ever want to get used it, but you may have to do it again someday.”

Andy nodded vaguely but said nothing further about it. She didn’t want to talk about death or killing anymore. “You know, if it hadn’t actually happened to me, I would’ve never believed it.”

“Believed what?”

“Everything that’s happened these past few days. And now standing at the edge of the Grand Canyon, miles away from anyone. It’s just so unreal.” She turned to Ben with a frown. “I don’t know what to expect anymore. I mean, there was never any explanation for why I ended up at the stadium. It seemed like something that happened all the time…kids being forced onto the field like that for some sick entertainment.”

“That’s anarchy,” he remarked solemnly. “The strong prey on the weak.”

“So nowhere is safe?”

“Nowhere I’ve been.”

She looked back at the view. “You don’t think things will ever change, do you?”

He cast her a sideways glance. “No, I don’t. Nothing I’ve seen so far makes me believe anything will be like it was again.”

There was not a hint of doubt in his voice, but she still challenged him. “I think deep down, most people want to be safe and have some kind of order in their lives. Look at all the people in Aspen who wanted it, and except for Nataliya and her friends screwing it up, it worked.”

“Just because somewhere seems nice and organized doesn’t mean it is. Nataliya and her friends were the ones running Aspen despite how many others were really trying to make it work. We’re all fighting our own DNA. We’re programmed to be selfish and look after ourselves and do whatever it takes to survive, no matter what.”

“I disagree,” she replied, crossing her arms across her chest. “If human beings weren’t meant to live together peacefully, we would’ve been extinct long ago.”

“I’m not saying it’s impossible for people to live in peace again, but I don’t think it’ll happen in our lifetime. We’re back in the Dark Ages. The first Dark Age lasted, what, a thousand years?”

Andy pursed her lips together disapprovingly. “Well, if you keep thinking that way, you’ll become a victim of your own expectations.”

Tired of arguing, Ben motioned toward the truck. “Let’s get going,” he said. “Everyone’s worried about you.”

“Yeah, okay.” She took one last look at the Canyon before turning away with a touch of sadness. “Too bad we can’t just stay here,” she said wistfully as they drove off.

Ben glanced down at her hands and gave her wrist a gentle squeeze. “We’ll get those things off you as soon as we get back.”

Andy grimaced at the handcuffs on her wrists.

Chapter XVI

Spring 2023

I
n Santa Rosa, the comforts of life in Aspen were grudgingly forgotten. Gone were the large heated homes, the hot showers, and the grocery store with its fresh food. The people they had grown to care for were missed as well, and Andy regretted that she never had the chance to say goodbye. But no one was more missed than Brian and Susan. Their arrival was anxiously awaited.

Everyone busied themselves with work similar to what they had done in Aspen, though performing each task now seemed more arduous. Without the camaraderie that came with building and maintaining a community, work had become tedious and more exhausting.

During the last week in February, Andy sensed Morgan becoming increasingly nervous as the birth of her child loomed. According to their calculations, her due date was around the first of March.

Morgan had accepted the idea of delivering an infant with all the uncertainties of this new world, but as the event approached, she began to panic. “How will I feed it? There’s barely enough food for us.”

“All you need to know is that this baby will have not just you, but all of us. We’ll all love this child like it’s our own,” Andy assured her.

In the early morning hours on the second of March, Morgan delivered a healthy baby girl after ten hours of grueling labor. The infant was named Kathryn. Everyone called her “Katie.”

Katie had delicate features, wide brown eyes, and the finest of brown hair on her fragile head. Though no one ever said as much, it was a relief that she resembled Morgan so much and that there was no visible sign of the father’s degenerate genes.

Andy was relieved beyond words that her friend had safely reached the end of the nine-month ordeal that had begun so violently the summer before. The birth had been difficult, but Morgan had pulled through unscathed. Now everyone enjoyed seeing a new life grow and change right before their eyes.