Chapter 1

A mother and her child trying to survive and preserve humanity.

Chapter 1

October 12th, 2021

“Jerry, wake up.”

His body shook, a hand racking his body back and forth. “Jerry!” His eyes shot open, blood vessels pressing against the skin of his eye. “What? What is-“ A cascade of golden strands assaulted his view, a pair of brown eyes returning his stare.

“Mick’s talking with someone outside, he’s waiting for you.” Black specs and blotches littered her cheeks, her long hair matted against her skull.

“Oh. F****n’…” His hands scrambled, brushing against the cold tile floor, searching for his holster. Once the leather brushed his fingers he grabbed it and stumbled to his feet. “F****n’ hell.” That’s the phrase he was looking for.

The blonde left through the blue swinging door before he could come up with an actual response, forcing him to hastily strap the brown leather to his waist. The gray steel slotted in the holster weighed down his hip. He pushed through the door. “Wait a damn minute…”

She turned back around. “What?”

Now that he had her attention, the thought he had slipped from his mind. “Who’s out there?” He looked himself over, to ensure everything was in working order.

The pause in between was lengthy, even for her. “It’s some woman.”

“Is she lookin’ for a group?” Or already with one?

“She’s alone, says she’s looking to trade for food.”

“Maybe we could convince her to stay. We could use some extra hands around-“ An echoing crack stole the words from his lips, followed by another. “S**t.”

Both of them took off, past the cashier lanes and through the entrance lobby, into the parking lot.

Jerry drew his steel, aiming it at anything he pinned his eyes to. He spotted Mick on his a*s, red dripping from his leg, his rifle shouldered. He shifted his sights to the burnt out husk the injured man was pointing his rifle at, stumbling against the pavement. “Mick, you alright?”

The bleeding man began to crawl back towards the building. “You come on right the f**k out, and I won’t f*****g kill you!” Mick heaved, one hand holding his punctured limb.

The blonde moved with consideration to Mick’s position, ready to pull him to safety behind the nearby brick pillars. A round pinged off of the pavement, ricocheting into Jerry’s left forearm. Pain serrated itself into his flesh, forcing his left hand to drop from his revolver.

“Whoa, now! Stop f*****g shooting, you already got my friend Mick.” Jerry shouted. He began cursing under his breath. “And you nicked me.” He felt blood pool in the torn flesh, flowing down his fingers and dripping onto the pavement. “Now, nobody needs to die today.” The pain was already slipping into his tone.

Jerry started again, after receiving no response from the entity apparently hiding behind the car. “I ain’t gonna ask ya to drop your guns. But I will ask you, to let us take Mick inside to get looked at. Does that sound good to you?”

He waited for a reply. Every second that ticked by was another moment he considered dumping all six rounds into the ruined sedan between them. The large round could penetrate easily enough, suppress the assailant long enough for him to flank around the side-

“Slowly…” A feminine voice croaked. Jerry could barely hear her.

He motioned for the blonde to continue. Mick let his own rifle slip off his shoulder, and the blonde woman helped him to his feet, taking him back into the store.

“Alright. So could you help me out here, and tell me why you shot my friend, Mick?” Jerry’s fingers tightened, adjusting the grip he had on the weapon.

Another silence, during which he tried to find reasons not to fire.

“He got too close to me.” She cleared her throat, lacking sincerity in her tone.

What a f*****g b***h. “Yeah, well, that’s Mick. He’s a little too friendly to people.”

No response, Jerry thought. “Let’s just walk away from each other and call it even. No need for anyone else to get shot. Right?” His hand was beginning to lose solidarity; the pain in his other arm was getting worse.

The unknown figure began inching out from behind the car. Jerry waited, aiming his sights on the movement as diligently as he could. What crept around the car gave his head a spin.

A red haired woman, coming out of a crouched position, standing at a height close to his. She was holding a black assault rifle in her hands, one hand on the pistol grip and the trigger, the other pressed into the crevice between the upper receiver and the magazine. There was an ACOG on the rail, and a flashlight duct taped to the side. She had one eye in her scope, the other closed shut. He noticed the more subtle features of her face, the crow’s feet at the corner of her eyes, the uncommon gray hairs sticking out, the purple bags under her eyes.

“I need food. I have ammo and medical supplies to trade.” She peeled her eye away from the sight, but kept her weapon raised and pointed at his chest.

A smile crept onto Jerry’s face, as he began speaking with half a laugh in his throat. “I-I don’t think we’re gonna be doing anything, honey. You just shot my friend, Mick, remember?” His hand holding his steel lowered, his body shifting to turn away.

Her tone turned down a dark path. “You walk away from me, I’ll put one in the back of your head.”

Now I have no reason not to shoot this f*****g-

“I can take the food from you, or I can trade you for it. Your choice.” Her firm tone inviting a conflict.

Jerry took a deep breath, turned toward her and considered his options. But at this point, he felt like he only had one.

“F**k you.” He pulled his gun up, aiming the iron sights on his target. One good round, and this b***h will be dead. His trigger finger squeezed. He saw sparks fly, from his shot hitting the pavement that was far past her. The recoil was the next thing he felt, flinging his hand back. It took a moment to bring it back, to line up the next shot. F**k.

She felt the recoil snap against her shoulder, the flash of her barrel, the pain of her ears ringing. She watched his body drop lifelessly into the pavement, blood pooling out of his fresh head wound. Her hands moved the rifle to the windows of the store, searching for a hint of a scope or the tip of a barrel, even the scalp of a shooter. Once she was sure there was no overwatch, she transitioned to a crouched run, moving up to the entrance of the grocery store.

She paused, waiting to see what she could hear inside the building. Sure enough, rushed footsteps came within earshot. She pressed her body into the wall she was crouched against, head pounding.

“Jerry?!” A distinctly feminine voice called out. Footsteps got closer, hastily. “Jerry wh- oh god.” They paused, silence ensued.

The redhead thought she could place exactly where she was in the store, but didn’t understand why the blonde hadn’t moved.

She seized the moment, curling around her cover, rifle aimed squarely wherever her eyes looked. The yellow caught her eye, and her barrel followed, getting the female in her sights. She could see the red in her eyes, the liquid streaming down her cheeks.

The red haired woman stood up, keeping her weapon shouldered. She had already spotted the pistol in her hand. She wasn’t sobbing, her mouth wasn’t twisted, just softy indifferent, like she had just witnessed a traffic accident. Then the blonde noticed the armed redhead, turning towards her.

“Put the pistol down.” The fingers around her rifle tightened, but the one on her trigger remained lax; she was not ready to fire yet. At least not until the blonde gave her a reason. The redhead looked her in the eyes again, this time seeing a profound ache.

“Why’d you do it?” The golden eyebrows furrowed in confusion, akin to a toddler asking why.

“He shot at me.” The redhead replied.

“After you shot Mick!” The look she had turned from suffering to rage, shorter than it took for the redhead to speak her piece. “And you- you-“ She began waving her hand holding the pistol around wildly

She took a long stride out of the way of the pistol’s barrel. “Hey, cool it!”

Her hand with the gun dropped. “What, are you just gonna kill us all? For-… for something that we don’t even have?! We don’t have any food, you f*****g c**t!” Tears began flowing again. “ We don’t have any f*****g food! Okay?!” Her empty hand began wiping her eyes, with the dirty blue sleeve of her shirt. The blonde’s state of being got worse as time went on, her red expression looking out of the store again and broke down another level. She sat herself down to the floor, sitting on her legs, crying.

The redhead didn’t know how to remove herself from the situation. She believed the blonde, but she refused to give up her gun, and the redhead didn’t feel safe trying to leave. Her tired eyes scanned the blonde, trying to find a solution. She had a golden band on her left hand.

“Listen, I know how you feel-“

“No. No you don’t.”

“But I need you to at least give up the gun before I can leave.” The redhead tried to sound sympathetic. Her front foot moved forward an inch.

The blonde raised the gun, pointing it at the redhead’s chest. “You’ll have to take it from my cold, dead hands.” The steel sights were shaking.

A vulgar crack filled her ears. She noticed the blonde’s head lurch forward, and then her eyes drained of emotion. Her body crumbled lifelessly to the ground, revealing a figure barely taller than the crouched blonde behind her.

“Are you okay, mom?” A blue eyed girl searched her expression.

A weight felt lifted off of her chest. She lowered her rifle slightly, noticing the smoke rise from her daughter’s pistol. “Dawn; I told you to stay put.”

“You also tell me to shoot first.”

“I didn’t signal you.” The rifle-armed redhead mentioned.

“I guess not.”

She started coming up with reasons why she hadn't signaled her. “Far away from the noise of a firefight is a safe, no, the safest point.”

The noise?  Dawn though as she picked up the gun from the bleeding corpse, examining the slide. “I don’t feel safe.”

“Then you’re one of the smart ones.” She looked deeper into the store, trying to see if it was filled with any more people. “There’s at least one more.”

Dawn pocketed the acquired firearm, and put both of her hands back on her textured pistol grip. “Okay.”

“Behind me.” The redhead took the lead, fully shouldering her weapon once more. Once she felt the wind behind her waist disappear, she moved forward. Turning right, she cleared her corner swiftly, and swept her sights across the rest of the store. Several shelves were tossed into each other, eliminating most of the ground to cover.

Her blue eyes scanned the aisles, and the registers were cleared, it became a bit obvious that the store was wiped clean. Shelves barren, displays knocked over, broken glass, piles of trash and a black splotched floor painting a picture of desperation. The redhead began wondering where the group inside of the store had been actually living.

She felt a pulling on her pant leg. One instinct fought the other, but eventually her motherly intent overcame her training. She turned her head, looking down at Dawn. Her daughter was facing away from her, looking at someone behind them. She shifted her gaze, and turned her body towards the entity, the rifle swinging around with her.

It hard to tell at first. She could make out the figure; it was small, not tall enough to be an adult. And then her eyes adjusted, and she could see the golden locks against the pale flesh, two gray eyes staring at her with a sense of cluelessness, a long lost innocence from better days. Wide shoulders, with a frame matching them down to the feet. She could tell it was a boy.

“Don’t!” He shouted, eyes widening with an exaggerated look. “Don’t shoot me, okay?”

“Do you have a weapon?” The woman croaked.

He shook his head vigorously.

“Alright.” Her stance relaxed, her rifle lowering ever so slightly.

“Can you help Mick? He needs it, like, really bad.” Stressing the last word, he seemed bright, energetic even. It was jarring.

“Sure. Where is he?” She kept a calm expression.

He wavered, looking behind himself before pointing to a blue door, a few dozen feet away. “In there, the �"um, bathroom. He’s bleeding.”

“Okay, hun.” The redhead knelt down to ear level with her daughter, dropping a hand from the grip of her weapon to place on her shoulder, covering her mouth from view of the boy with Dawn’s head. After a few words, the redhead stood and replaced her absent hand on the trigger of the rifle, walking past the blonde haired child, with a safe amount of distance between them.

When he turned to follow her, she spoke quickly. “I’ll go check on Mick, you stay out here alright?”

“Okay.” He responded quickly as well, although in a much cheerier tone. He then turned to Dawn. “Hi.”

The girl looked nervous. “Hi.” Her pistol was still tightly gripped in her right hand.

Once the redhead slipped through the door, and he visually recognized it, he turned back to Dawn. And in a quiet tone, he whispered. “What did she say?”

She was oblivious to his intent. “What?-“

“Shhhh!” He started over again. “What did she say?” This time with more emphasis.

“Oh.” She tried to mirror his tone. “Uh, she said to watch you.”

“Like… babysitting?” His mood dropped with that response.

“Kinda… I guess. I dunno.” She didn’t have the heart to tell him everything her mother told her.

His eyebrows furrowed. “I’m twelve. I don’t need babysitting.”

“Yeah, well, I’m thirteen. I’m older, that means I’m in charge.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Yeah-huh.”

His expression showed his anger bubbling over. "Whatever." He moved forward a couple of steps.

In a matter of a moment, she raised her weapon to eye level, and brought her second hand to the grip. Her eyes hardened.

His entire attitude dispersed, and he took the steps back to where he was. As he did, she let her gun fall back to her side.

“Are you gonna shoot me?”

“No.”

“Then why'd you point it at me?” He seemed to have an odd curiousness about him.

“Because I don’t know you. And if I don’t know you, then I don’t trust you.” She motioned her pistol.

It didn’t look like he liked it, but he didn’t move from his spot, so she didn’t mind.

“I guess...” He replied.

“No guessing.” She replied calmly.

A silence followed. Neither knew if they should continue to speak to each other, with such distinct lines drawn between them.

“Have you seen my Mom or Dad?” He quizzed.

“I dunno. What do they look like?” She tried to remember if they had come across any people in the past few days.

He paused. “My Dad has brown hair, and a big nose. And a really cool gun. And my Mom has yellow hair.”

Dawn swallowed what was left in her throat. “Umm… I don’t know.”

“They were here a few minutes ago. But now I dunno. Maybe they left. For food and stuff.” He looked at his shoes, kicking around dust with his sneakers. “Guns woke me up. And then I noticed Mick hurt.” He gained a quizzical look. “Oh!” He announced. “Maybe they left to get help for Mick.” He seemed happy now that he had figured it out.

“I don’t know.” She wiped her forehead clean with a swipe from her forearm. “Maybe.”

“I don’t get scared when they leave. I don’t need a babysitter.” He spat that last word out.

“You’re just a kid.”

“No. I'm not.”

“Why not?“

“Because

“Mmm-hm.” She felt victorious with that statement.

“What makes you not a kid?” He crossed his arms, confident that there was no such action in the world.

“I shoot people.”

“Hey, I shot one of those things too-“ He was stressing that word when he was cut off by a sharp:

“No. I mean people people.” She paused, watching for his reaction.

He seemed surprised and horrified. “Why?”

“Because they tried to hurt me and my Mom. And that can’t happen; we’re a team.”

“Yeah, but…”

“But nothing.”

“Only bad people kill other people.”

Her eyes gained a sense of regret, and her expression turned solemn. “Sometimes good people have to kill other good people. It’s just the way things are.”

Silence filled the tattered store, while the two exchanged their opposing glances. A painstaking creek occupied their ears, pulling their eyes to the dull blue door behind the boy. The red haired woman slipped out of the room, her rifle resting against her side, hanging off of her body by the black strap around her shoulder. She seemed different.

“Is Mick okay?” He had a twinkle in his eye.

She eyed the boy for a moment, as if she had forgotten he was there. “What’s your name?”

“Jerry.”

Her face twisted for a moment, eyes softening at the mention. “Come here, Jerry.” She knelt down, one foot pressed into the grimy floor, the other knee pushed into the tile.

He glanced at Dawn for a moment, as if for approval, but turned back to the redhead without seeing any reaction from the girl. Jerry wasn’t sure what to make of the situation, as he approached the armed stranger.

She looked up at the boy, swallowing back her first set of words. Her mouth went agape, as she tried to begin a hard statement, her brows furrowing for a moment. “Um…”

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

“Nothing,” She retorted, but soon realized that everything was wrong. “Well, Mick got shot. He’s going to die.”

“Why?” He asked, eyes filling with a sea of emotions.

“Because, the wound is in his gut. He needs surgery- needed surgery a few minutes ago. I could stop the external bleeding, but not the internal.”

As she spoke and explained, his face grew red, tears slowly trickling down his cheeks. He sniffled and wiped away the flowing liquids.

“Now listen up, Jerry,” She grabbed his hands, looking the boy straight in his eyes. “You’re alone here. Do you know where your parents are?”

He wiped his face partially clean, and his hand clean on the navy jeans he was wearing. “They were just here. My dad’s Jerry, and m-my mom’s name is Lisa. Did you see them coming in?”

The redhead shook her head, and she could see the precise moment in which that response crushed him a second time. “Listen, Jerry, look at me.” Her hands grasped his shoulders, trying to calm the boy. “Look. The shots you heard earlier… they were…-they’re going to attract unwanted attention. You can’t stay here. Very soon it won’t be safe.” She paused, eyes hovering between him, and Dawn. “You should leave with us.”

Dawn folded her arms.

“I won’t force you to come with us, Jerry, but you probably won’t make it if you try to stay here.”

He tried to speak through his sobbing, “B-but my mom and, and dad are gonna come back soon. I can’t leave them.” Discomfort cracked through his voice, pauses in his words caused by deep breathes.

Her fingers curled inward, toward her sleeve, as she lifted her clothed hand up to his nose, cleaning his face. “Your parents are gone. You’ll see them again, but you’re going to have to go on without them for now.”

His huffing and puffing was the only sound that filled the store, just for a little bit. “I don’t want to.”

“No one does. But that’s part of growing up; living without them.”

“I can’t leave with a stranger, my mom said. She said that they’re dangerous.”

“My name’s Charlotte. That over there,” She pointed to her daughter. “Is my Aurora. Dawn for short.” She smiled. “Now we’re not strangers.”

The look on his face told of an unconvinced nature, his tears began drying. “She said that you kill people. Even good people.”

Charlotte glared at Dawn, and her daughter gave her a shrug. She turned back to Jerry, an unsure expression painted on. “We do, when we have to. I’m sure your parents did too. They just never told you.”

“No.”

“They did it to protect you.” Her hands returned to his, comforting his trembling fingers. “That’s just the way it is.” Jerry seemed reluctant to accept her words.

She stood, releasing her grasp on his hands. His gaze followed her. “Come on, Dawn.” The redhead motioned, and the girl closed the gap between them. “Jerry, would you like to come with us?” Charlotte turned to look at him.

The dirty blonde wiped his face, preparing to give a very unconvinced response. “Okay…”

Charlotte gave herself a relieved smirk. “Alright, we’re gonna have to break you in on our system.”

“System?” He queried.

“First rule; walk and talk.” She gained hold of her rifle once more, in a relaxed grip, and searched the walls and roof of the building they were standing in. She started on her path, Dawn followed behind her mother, and after a few moments of consideration Jerry followed as well.

“Second rule; stay within sight of me, or Dawn.”

“Okay.” Jerry didn’t seem to have the energy to fight back against the system.

“Third rule is, never panic. If you lose your head, start crying in a firefight, or screaming at the sight of trouble, you’re as good as dead.” Her tone seemed relaxed, but cautious. “No matter how bad you think it is, there’s always a solution.”

“What’s a solution?”

“You don’t know?” Dawn questioned.

“It means an answer to a problem.” Charlotte paused for a moment. “What grade were you in at school?”

“I didn’t go to school.”

“What?” Dawn said, in disbelief, as if it were an option she never considered.

“My mom homeschooled me.”

“What’s homeschooling?” The girl asked.

“You don’t know?!” Jerry mockingly repeated.

The redhead flung her hand out to her side, blocking the two’s advance. Dawn stopped instinctively, but Jerry ended up pressing into her arm before realizing. Once he stopped, her hand returned to the foregrip of her weapon.

The trio held still, waiting for something to happen. An uneasy silence fell over them, the sound of shallow, raspy breathing was the only thing any one of them could hear and focus on.

“It’s nothing.” Charlotte announced, letting her guard down. She looked at the blonde haired boy, and made sure she had his attention before speaking. “When I stop, you stop. When I move, you move. Don’t hesitate, and make sure you’re paying attention.”

“Sorry.” He broke eye contact, feeling a familiar sense of shame.

“It’s fine, Jerry, really. Just listen to me, and we’ll all be fine.” She gave him a reassuring ruffle of his hair and turned to the door that they had approached. Most of the paint on the sign above it had been washed away by time, but she could make out the red it once was and the faded ‘X’ gave away the intention of the door. She approached it and took a few glances at the frame.

“It’s an exit, mom.”

“I know. But exits like this,” She motioned. “Are usually hooked up to the alarm system. Which most run off of electricity…” She zoned out, searching further up the walls. Once she spotted it, her lips frowned. “But sometimes, the old stores have bell alarms.” Which was exactly what was twenty feet above the door. Opening the door would probably trigger it, and bring a horde of trouble.

After a few moments in silence, Jerry spoke up. “Why don’t we just go out the-“

“No, no, it’s fine actually. The noise’ll just distract them.” She tried to convince herself. The redhead turned towards the two. “Get behind me, follow as close as you can without bumping into each other.”

Dawn nodded, moving to take the position directly behind her mother. “Dawn, take the rear.” The girl stopped, staring at her mother’s back while she pondered. Jerry filled up the slot, and she hurried to stand behind the boy.

Charlotte pressed her body up against the right side of the door, where the hinges were attached, her rifle pointed to exactly where the door would open.. She ever so slightly pressed the metal push plate into its mechanism. Once she felt it completely click, a stunningly loud ringing conquered her senses. She powered through, shoving the door wide open, flooding her vision with stinging rays of light.

The aged redhead pushed herself out of the door, rifle raised to eye level while she swept the barrel from left to right. The slab of pavement between the store and the nearby shrubbery was devoid of movement or figures, but the blaring alarm pushed her to move anyway. She took a brief sprint, while glancing over her shoulder to observe the movements of the other two.

The boy was slow to react, slow to move, and slow to follow, but the girl behind him pushed him forward, making sure he kept up even if she had to shove him. Satisfied, Charlotte switched her attention forward.

Her feet carried her across the exposed pavement, gliding towards the dip into grass. Once she was positioned in a place of limited visibility, she stopped and spinned, turning her body to the opposite direction. Now she had cover, from at least two directions, and a direct line of sight on the two as they crossed the exposed pavement. The blonde boy was moving on his own, and Dawn was hot on his heels, her pistol resting in front of her waist, ten small digits holding onto the grip for dear life.

Once they too crossed into the brush, they caught sight of the tall redhead, and lined up in front of her momentarily. “Dawn, take the front. Jerry, follow her.” The two nodded, reforming and moving past Charlotte, gaining ground while she stared down the doorway of the store they successfully escaped, waiting. The ringing alarm chipped away at her patience, but she knew it was only a matter of time. She waited, her hands trembling, pressing the stock of her rifle into her shoulder harder than she should.

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Dawn heard a round fire close by. Must have been Mom, she thought. She looked over her shoulder, noticing that Jerry was doing the same, trying to see what was going on. “Hey. Look at me, okay?” Dawn turned her head forward, making sure that they kept a steady pace, but the thought distracted her. What exactly was her mother doing?

Her curiosity was shelved as she stopped sharply, extending her arm out to motion for the boy to do the same. Once the sound of his feet slamming the ground subsided, her hand returned to the grip of her pistol. She scanned the tree line.

“Why did we stop?” Jerry whispered.

Dawn shushed him, and trained her ears and eyes to confirm her suspicions. A rapid blur of movement caught the corner of her eye, and she pinned her sights on it. Once she got a better look at it, she realized that it was a small, hairy creature climbing the trunk of a tree. “’Kay, we’re okay.” She moved forward, releasing her sights from the animal.

Her ears perked at the sound of bushes and leaves being rustled and brushed against. The sound was approaching at an uncomfortably fast speed. Once her eyes caught the fiery red hair on the figure approaching, her muscles relaxed, and Dawn turned her head forward. Her mother caught up with them, and took the lead wordlessly.

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Pace was one of the most important parts of marching. Move too fast, and exhaust the marchers, move too slow and waste time. The only real way to move in a way that’s reliable and measurable was to create a rhythm with the feet of the marchers. Left, right, left right moving in sync. Once it was created and drilled into someone’s head, it doesn’t leave their skull.

Hearing and feeling two kids pound their feet into the ground, and constantly shift their speed and direction slightly drove Charlotte mad, like an itch inside her body that grew in intensity as time went on. “Stop.”

The two halted, and turned back to search her expression for an explanation.

The redhead looked around one final time before completely convincing herself. “We’re a couple miles from the store now, should be fine.” She pointed at the subject of her upcoming statement. ”Sun’s only in the sky for another hour, so we’ll stop here.” Charlotte pulled one sling of the pack off, and let the other slip off, sending the heavy sack slamming onto the ground.

Dawn mirrored her action and holstered her pistol, turning to the ground to look for what her eyes were trained to find. Large stones, sticks, fresh fallen leaves and grass, bushes with any variety of colorful product.

Jerry stood in the area where the girls left their supplies while they both began searching the nearby area. He observed, watching the girl move to collect stones and sticks. And he looked out for the mother, an auburn mess of knots and split ends, as she started pulling out various supplies from her pack. A pot, a can, a knife and even a bedroll, something she laid out on the forest ground without much thought. The wrinkled and weathered redhead noticed his staring and he averted his gaze for a moment.

“You’re going to need a pack of your own.” She thought out loud, her eyes blankly glaring at the dirt as the gears in her mind slowly spun. “Oh, right…” Charlotte dove back into her pack, and pulled out a wool blanket, colored in a black, purple and green design, with zig-zags meeting each other over the surface. She unfolded the blanket a bit further from her bed, giving him his own place to rest. “There. You’re set for now.”

The corner of his mouth tugged at his cheeks, painting an unsatisfied look. “It looks like a girl blanket.”

“Purple is cool.” Dawn said, kneeling a few feet away from the bedroll and blanket with two arms full of rocks and sticks. She dumped the two materials onto the ground.

“It’s a girl color.” Jerry insisted.

She first ripped some grass from the earth, combing a small area for anomalies before forming a circle with stones, and then began building a teepee of twigs in the middle. “Then I guess you can sleep on the ground. I’ll take it if you don’t want it. “

He huffed, and claimed the blanket with his backside, planting himself on the wool.

Charlotte couldn’t stop herself from grinning. “Take it easy, Dawn.” She noticed that the stoic look on her daughters’ face didn’t falter.

“Nothing’s easy anymore.” She looked from her sticks to the dirty blonde. “That’s why we can’t worry about stuff like that anymore.” Her gaze turned to her mother, for a moment, pushing her point home with a serious look. Then she turned back to Jerry. “Grow up.”

“Dawn.” Charlotte’s grin melted.

She struck a match, with more force than seemed needed, and tossed the flame onto the layer of leaves and grass under the wood. “I’m gonna scout around, make sure no one’s nearby.” The short haired girl stood, turning on her heels to walk away.

“Hey.”

She stopped.

“Be careful.”

She nodded, continuing in her stride. The two watched her back until it fell out of sight.

Charlotte glanced at the fire. It had spread to the pile of branches, beginning a decent flame. She glanced at the boy, who looked quite sour. She couldn’t stop herself from smirking again. “She’s warming up to you.”

“I don’t like her.” He grumbled.

“That’s okay. You don’t have to. You just have to trust her.” She watched his reaction, which lacked any real tell that he understood the weight of her statement. “Do you know what I mean?”

“No.”

“She wasn’t trying to hurt your feelings. She just wants you to focus on what’s important, because she doesn’t want you to get distracted.” Charlotte reaffirmed her grip on her rifle, and switched the safety on, while placing it on her lap. “If she or I tell you something, it’s meant to help you. And second guessing  it might get you killed.”

He glanced from the fireplace, to the grass at his side, as he considered a response. “Okay.” His  fingers slowly drifted to the green blades of grass, wrapping around the paper thin emerald strands. With a firm grip, he ripped them away from the soil. Jerry placed the handful onto a dirt spot, making a pile.

“Did your parents show you how to use a gun?”

Jerry turned his gaze to the redhead, studying her face. “My dad did. Once.”

“That’s good.” She paused. “You’re gonna have to practice though, one of these days.” They would have to begin looking for a few weapons for Jerry, she thought. A gun, especially one too powerful, would be a detriment if he didn’t know how to use it.

“He said that I wasn’t old enough to use it.”

She scoffed, before realizing that Jerry might take offense. She spoke up, if only to clarify her position. “It doesn’t matter how old you are. In this world, you’re either dead or alive. You’re not a boy, a girl, ten years old or a hundred. You’re not smart, or strong, right or wrong, good or evil. You’re just alive.”

“That’s not true. I’m good. And you are too.” He seemed sincere.

“All the good people are dead or dying. The only thing left is the bottom of the barrel of humanity. The scraps of society. The people willing to do anything to be alive, that’s what’s left.” Her eyes flickered to him, staring back at his cobalt pupils. “If you’re not willing to do that, then let me know so Dawn and I don’t waste our lives.”

“Do what?”

“Do what’s necessary. What the situation calls for.”

“What does that mean?”

Charlotte sighed, breaking eye contact for a moment. “Tomorrow, Dawn might be bit. And then we’d have to kill her-”

“No.”

“What do you mean, no? If she’s bit, if I’m bit, if you’re bit, we’re dead. It’s over.”

“That won’t happen.”

“Of course it will. It’s the only way out now. You don’t die of old age in the apocalypse. Jerry.”

He turned his gaze to the flames, watching the inferno lick the stones. He tried to gather his thoughts, dwelling on what was said. “You said you wanted me to try to live.” Jerry didn’t have the nerve to look her in the eye for his follow up. “How can I, if you don’t even think we can?”

His question sent the redhead into a silence. Her eyes wandered, following her absent mind, trying to find a retort.

He continued. “What-ifs are stupid. We could spend all day saying ‘what-if’. My dad said that. He said the only thing worth thinking about was how to live. How to solve your problems, not predict your future ones.”

Charlotte felt a bit humbled. “He sounded like a smart man.”

“He is.” He corrected.

“Right. Sorry darlin’.”

The sun was losing its grasp on the sky, and the moon was quickly seizing its lost ground, conjuring the twilight hours. Stars gained visibility, the navy blue sea of clear sky forming into a black ocean, one you could stare into and lose yourself in the suffocating endlessness, until dark consumed it all.

“She’s been gone a while…” He said.

“She’ll be fine. Dawn’s better at surviving than me.” She swallowed back her pride.

He gazed at the aged woman. “No way…”

She chuckled. “Yeah. It’s because of her father.” Charlotte took a quite lengthy break, after divulging that. A brooding look consumed her expression, and eventually Jerry assumed that she had finished her thought.

“He was, um, well…” She tripped over the words a couple of times. “When it all started, it was me, Dawn, and Ward. His brother Ned was with us. We found a group, stayed with them for a while. The leader of the group was someone we didn’t know. He was… useless. He got Ned killed, and from then on, Ward changed.”

Her eyes were firmly planted on the fireplace, blinking quicker than she should. “The leader got another person killed, and then Ward took him out of the role. He never wanted to lead the group, but when a decision had to be made, he’s where people looked to. It changed him. He became…” She searched for the correct phrasing. “So cold.”

She stopped herself from giving any more specific details. “Eventually I took Dawn and left. Figured it wasn’t safe there. But once I had a chance to see what it’s really like out here, on your own, I don’t blame him. It’s just…”

His stone-like eyes pinned her down. His brows stabbed into his wrinkled forehead, and he shook his head. “What have I become?” The man’s emerald eyes softened. “Darlin’… everyone I know is taken away from me… eventually.” His gaze faltered for a moment. It returned, harder than before. “Eventually I’ll let both of you down: it’ll be me that gets you hurt.”

“A hard thing to live with.”

“Like what?” Jerry seemed a bit too naïve to realize what he was asking.

Charlotte continued staring into the fire, her eyes empty. She looked right through it. Jerry’s words drifted into one ear, and out the other. There was something, something so far away she could barely see it. But with enough focus and patience, she could watch it shift and push through the foliage. It began getting closer, easier to make out, simpler to follow. Something that had the faintest shine to it, a ray of dim light poking through the thick layer of dark. It was close enough for the light of the fireplace to guide it, and it made a straight path to the beacon. The figure took the lightest steps it could, gaining illumination as it grew closer. It got to the point where she could no longer simply stare at the approaching unknown. She tightened her grip on her rifle, brushing her thumb over the safety.

“There’s nothing for a mile, in any direction.” Dawn announced, stepping into the light of the fire. “So I dunno what we’re gonna head for in the morning.” She took a seat at the foot of the fire, rubbing her hands together over the flames. She took a glance at both of them.

“You took longer than usual….” Charlotte said, relaxing her grip on her weapon.

“Well usually I find something and come back to tell you, but… nothing this time.” She shrugged.

“It’s alright. From here, I can navigate. Just follow 81 north, be there in a few days.” The redhead rose from her seat on the bedroll, stretching her legs and arms. A soft groan followed, and she noticed that both of them were staring at her.

“I’m going to see if I can find dinner.” The aged redhead announced. The two nodded, almost in unison. Charlotte pulled herself away from the fire, slowly disappearing into the darkness surrounding them.

The orange glow was a soothing sight, a symbol of warmth, visibility, safety. The heat kept the fall breeze in check, and the creatures away. Its presence itself was a reassurance, something to take comfort in. The boy and girl sat on opposite ends and listened to the flames crackle and snap. Dawn pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs, sighing.

“What’s the matter?” Jerry asked.

Her gaze flickered, from his to the fireplace, unsure where to pin her eyes. “My mom said… a while ago, that it would just be me and her. No more groups. But now we have you.”

Jerry didn’t know how to respond. “Do you want me to leave?”

“No. I just… I don’t know what’s going on anymore.” Her eyes blinked a few times. She brought up one hand to her eye, tilting her face out of view. She sniffled, and returned her hand to her leg. When Jerry saw her face again, he noticed the wetness on her cheek, before she wiped it away.

“I’m sorry.”

She pinned her eyes to his, flames dancing in the reflection. “For what?”

“It seems like you and your mom have had a lot tougher time than me.”

Dawn thought back to the woman in the grocery store, and dwelled on her theory, one that had so much evidence backing it she considered her choice of phrase. And then she remembered the pistol she had pocketed. She considered giving it to him, but fear of him recognizing it made her second guess  the decision. “That’s not true. It wasn’t always this bad.” Dawn paused, considering telling him more.

“Back when we were in a group, with my dad and uncle. It was good. We made a home in a warehouse, filled with cool stuff. Toys, computers, clothes. It was for one of those websites you buy everything from.”

“That’s pretty cool.”

“Yeah. Didn’t have to do laundry for a while.” She smiled. “I remembered playing dress-up with my mom, and Sarah.” Her expression slowly faded, back to her solemn stare. “My dad used to take me with him, on supply runs.”

Jerry eventually sat with his legs crossed, hands resting on his lap. “My dad’d never let me do that.”

She nodded. “My mom didn’t like it. But he needed help. Besides… there wasn’t anything else for me to do.” Dawn took a lengthy silence, remembering. “One night, my mom woke me up. Told me we had to leave. And we left.” Dawn shuffled, huddling closer to the fire. “She never told me why.”

“What about your dad? He didn’t come with you?”

“No. “ Her eyebrows furrowed for a moment. “I… don’t know why.” Dawn stared into the flame, trying to find the words. “I miss him.”

They sat in silence for a while, each finding their own fixation to occupy the time. Jerry tried to steal glances at Dawn, watching the shadows and light dance around her figure. She noticed his staring.

“What?” She asked.

“Why don’t you… ask your mom why you left?” Jerry suggested.

She frowned for a second, and broke eye contact. “I dunno. I guess I’m just scared.” Dawn swallowed, trying to clear her throat. “My dad made some mistakes. I guess…” Her hands tightened, gripping her forearms tightly. “He must of made a pretty bad one, if my mom left without him.” The girl tried to stop herself from telling Jerry anymore. It had been sitting on her mind for… months? Being able to discuss it, without being stonewalled; it felt like closure. “My mom loved my dad. She wouldn’t have done it without a good reason.”

A slow, building howl filled the evening sky, sending both of their eyes scattering, and the hair on their necks standing to attention. Another howl replied from a different direction. Dawn pulled her pistol out of her pocket. They sat in silence, afraid to move a single inch. They heard another howling much further away.

The brush shifted, pulling their attention to the emerging figure, pulling itself out of the shadows. The rifle armed redhead smiled, upon seeing both of them resting by the fire. “Well, haven’t been mauled by coyotes yet. That’s a plus.”

Dawn noticed that she was empty handed. “Couldn’t find anything?” She quizzed.

“Nope. All the peaceful critters must be asleep by now.” Charlotte sat on her bedroll, staring at the can resting by her backpack. “Well, we have one can of beans.” Her eyes glanced, from one wide eyed child to the other, both ready to jump on her for even mentioning the meal. “Maybe we’ll have that tonight, and find some breakfast in the morning.”

“Yeah.” Dawn chipped.

“Okay.” Jerry agreed.

She noticed Jerry start grinning, and when she glanced at Dawn, she saw another slow build to a small smile. Charlotte reached for the can, smirking herself. “Never thought beans would make me happy.”

Author's Note

I invite honest/tough love reviews.

Reviews

[Lusus Naturae]

There were a few possible errors I have noticed:

“Then why'd you point it at me?” He seemed to have an odd curiousness about him. (Him, or her? I think the genders may have been off. Not sure.)

“Because (Missing a period and a finished quotation.)

Overall, I find what you have written to this point to be quite interesting to read and I would like to read more.