Against The Darkness (Cimmerian Moon) (16 page)

“
Puh-leez
.
I’ve known you since forever. I know when you like someone. Plus, the faraway
look you get when you look at him is not hiding your feelings, girl.”

I do my best
“you are so wrong” impression. “What? I don’t have any feelings for him. I don’t
even know him.”

“You probably
know him better than anyone else here besides Ken.”

“That’s
because we’ve had a couple of conversations.”

“My point
exactly. You and Jason have talked. He hardly talks to anyone else but you.”

“Stop trying
to start stuff. I don’t have any feelings for Jason. He’s just a real cool
person.”

“Sure.”

“Plus, he’s
older than me.”

“By what, a
couple of years?”

“He’s in
college.”

“
Was
in
college.”

“And he’s not
my type.”

She looks at
me in shocked amazement. “You have a type? Hmm… all these years and I never
knew you had a type.”

“Whatever. You
know my type. A cross between Captain Picard and Indiana Jones, with Denzel
Washington swag.”

One side of
her mouth rises in a smile. “That is so f’d up.”

“What? I like
men with power, a sense of adventure and sexiness.”

“No, my dear.
You like old farts.” She rolls her eyes. “You need to get laid.”

I cover my
ears with my hands. “I’m not hearing this.”

She pulls my
hands away, leaving us to struggle for a couple of seconds. “Think about it. We’ll
need to repopulate the world, it may be up to you and Jason. MJ and Shayla and Ian
and my kids. We’ll be related, for real, then.”

I shake my
head. “I can’t believe you’re talking about this. There is nothing going on
between me and Jason. And we definitely aren’t going to repopulate the world.”

“It has to
happen and I say it’s not a bad choice. You could either have Jason or Wade.”

I give her a
hard stare. “How the heck did Wade get into this scenario?”

“Between him
and Jason they’re pretty much fighting for some Sinta love.” She says “Sinta
love” in a deep, singing voice.

I can’t
believe how ridiculous she sounds. “Wade does not think of me that way.”

“Um, yes.
Every time I turn around its either him giving you ‘please notice me’ looks or Jason
giving you the ‘I would jump your bones in a heartbeat’ look. Personally, I
like Jason’s looks better. It’s like he wants to ravish you on the spot. Wade’s
look is more like a puppy dog’s, ‘please, like me’,” she says, whimpering in a
baby voice.

“I can’t
imagine either one of them watching me like that. No one has ever looked at me
like that before.”

“That’s
because the guys at school were intimidated by you.”

“No they weren’t.”

“You had your
whole life plotted when we were in the fifth grade. Who wouldn’t be intimidated?
Everyone knew you had big plans and dating high schools boys wasn’t a part of
it.”

“No, it wasn’t.”
I kinda regret that now. If I had more dating experience I would know about
“the looks” Mia says are being passed my way. I would also know what to do
about them and how to handle them without making myself appear like an awkward
fool.

“I think the
two of you would make a good couple.”

“Who?” Which
one, is what I really want to ask.

“You and Jason.
Too bad he’s going to D.C. and you probably won’t ever see him again.”

The thought of
not seeing Jason again creates a stab in my chest.

“He has a
mother and little brother to get to.” I shrug, trying to seem like I don’t
really care. “Besides, I don’t think he would go for someone like me.”

She grabs my arm
and pulls me close. “Look at him. He’s a bad boy. He’s got that bad boy swagger
to him. And you are clearly off limits to him. Yeah, he would totally make a
move on you.”

“Why am I off
limits?”

She brings up
a hand and begins to number them off. “You’re in high school, you’re a good
girl, you’re vulnerable, inexperienced and after a week or two he won’t see you
again.”

I’m starting
to think that I really should be taking offense to half of the things she’s
said.

“Plus I don’t
think his dad won’t approve of a Jason-Sinta union.”

“You see it
too? I swear I think that man hates me.”

“I think he’s
a little short with you because he sees Jason wagging his tongue in your
direction all day long. If I didn’t think it was cute I would probably find it
irritating too.”

“So that means
I should probably stay away from Jason then.”

“Why would you
do that?” she asks, as though she just didn’t give me a reason to.

“He’s trouble.
Nothing good could come of this.”

She smirks.
“Oh yes, he is and yes it can.”

I’m suddenly
reminded that Mia’s favorite pastime used to be reading her mother’s erotica
stories. “Gross.”

Mia pushes me
away with a laugh.

“Stick close and keep your eyes peeled,” Ken says over his
shoulder. When he catches us laughing he rolls his eyes.

Mia and I straighten our faces and clear up our laughter.
When he turns away we look at each other and hide our giggles under our hands.

We do as he says and press so close together that we’re
almost stepping on each other’s heels. The guys have their guns out and drawn,
even though we all know it won’t do much to stop the aliens. I have the knife in
my hand. It also won’t do anything, but it gives me a little peace of mind. I
want a gun. With a gun I could pick the aliens off from a distance. Captain Page
said the guns wouldn’t kill them, but I’m thinking it’ll slow them down enough
for me to get away.

We keep at the ready. There’s no evidence of people in the
streets—or what’s left of the streets. But we know they could be hiding
in some of the buildings that haven’t been destroyed, but the aliens probably patrolled
in those places first. People could also hide in a building that appears as if
it’s on its last legs yet is still structurally sound, but my guess is that the
people have moved on, just like we are.

As we approach what is clearly starting to appear like the
remnants of a downtown, we become more cautious. If that’s even possible. We’re
already on high alert. My senses tingle with each wind that blows, birds that
squawk, or rustle of a lone piece of paper crossing our path. Each step we take
is quiet, unheard. Each breath we take is shallow. Our ears are tuned to the
noises around us; there’s nothing loud.

Off to the right, I hear pitter-patter of animal feet.
Everyone, as well as myself, is scanning the surroundings, watching every
shadow, every movement, praying we don’t see seven foot-tall reptilian
monsters. I don’t want to, but I’m watching out for them just the same.

We get to a cluster of what used to be shops that had lined
a main street. Ken motions for us to follow his lead. We don’t question him, as
we quickly get behind him, organizing into a single file. We crouch as we walk,
sticking close to the bricks and other pieces of the buildings. My heart slams
in my chest so hard it hurts. Thoughts race through my mind.

What if we do see aliens?

What should we do?

I look to Wade but he’s not paying attention to me. He’s
peering at the surrounding buildings. I glance at Ken, but his back is to me.

I want to ask them what the plan is if we run into any
aliens.

Are we going to stay and fight?

Should we run?

If we run, where do we run to?

Shouldn’t we have a meeting place?

What if we get separated?

I shake all the intruding thoughts from my mind. There’s no
need in working myself up. If anything goes wrong I’ll follow everyone else.
And well—if we split up, I’ll follow the majority.

Time to pony-up and put on my big girl panties
.

If aliens come I’ll follow everyone else. I’ll survive.

Ken stops us in front of a sign.

Goldie’s Army Supply

Ken turns toward the slabs of concrete that used to be a
part of the building. We all watch him, waiting for his direction. He lets out
a heavy sigh and puts a booted foot on a slab of building.

“We could use some supplies,” Jason finally says.
“Especially some rain gear. It won’t do us any good to survive the aliens only
to die from pneumonia.”

As if on cue, the loud crack of thunder erupts across the
sky. The rain isn’t coming down yet, but I can tell it’s coming soon.

“Yes. We need to get in there,” Ken agrees.

I use my hand as a visor above my eyes. I don’t see how
anyone could get in there. If I breathe too hard I could knock the building
down. It’s shifted to the side. The roof is slanted, with one entire side
touching the street and the other high in the air. The windows are busted out,
but shards of glass are protruding from the frames, as if warding off any
enemies, like the structure itself wouldn’t be enough to deter looters. The
door is smashed and unusable.

Ken takes a closer look, peering through the windows. Now
MJ and Wade are behind his shoulders trying to see what he sees.

“They may still have guns,” Jason says.

“And sleeping bags,” MJ adds. “I know we need weapons but I’d
kill for a blanket.”

“What about clothes?” Ms. Burgess asks. “Are there clothes
in there?”

“I know this sounds like a crazy request, but I could
really use a toothbrush,” Mia says. She uses a finger to rub against her teeth.

I can’t stand it any longer. I’ve been trying to keep my
distance from Ken, but I’m up on his back by now. I want everything they’re
asking about and more. I’d like to spend tonight with clean teeth, a gun in my
hand, wearing clean clothes, while snuggled in a sleeping bag.

“We can’t get in there. It’s too dangerous,” Ian says.

Ken takes a step back, letting everyone else peer through
the windows. “It’s a chance we have to take.”

Wade kicks at the remaining glass that lines the window. It
cracks. The sound seems loud against a silent backdrop. He bends, resting his
hands on his thighs. “I don’t think I can fit. I’m too big.”

Ian stands beside him and puts a leg through the window. He
tries to fit the rest of his body through but then withdraws. “I could get
through the window but there’s so much shit blocking the way.” He takes a quick
look at Ms. Burgess. “Sorry. There’s too much
stuff
blocking our way.”

That’s it. We can’t get in.

Ian is the smallest of the guys. If he can’t make it
through it appears as though we’ll spend another night on the ground with bugs
crawling through our hair and up our nostrils.

Ian turns to me. “How about you, Sinta?”

“What about me?” I know what he’s talking about, but the
surprise throws me for a loop.

“No,” Wade and Jason both blurt out at once.

“It’s too dangerous,” Ms. Burgess says.

I let my gaze shift to the window. Glass is everywhere. Ms.
Burgess is right. It’s starting to look really dangerous now.

Ken motions for me to come to him. I take a gulp of air.

Put on your big girl panties, remember?

No one says anything as I walk slowly toward him. I know
they all think it’s dangerous, but they also want provisions. I want them too. When
I reach his side he sizes me up.

“Go straight to the guns first,” he says.

“You don’t even know if she’ll fit,” Jason says, coming to
my side.

“Oh she’ll fit,” Ken replies, without looking at Jason.

“Guns first,” I repeat. To everyone else I sound firm and
strong. What they can’t see is that my knees are practically knocking together.
Thank God that my sweats are so big.

“When you get to the guns, yell out and tell me what you
see, okay?”

I nod.

“Well?” he asks.

“Yes?”

“Do you need an invitation?”

At first I don’t understand why he’s asking me that. Then
it hits me. I scramble to the window. There’s a shirt across it, covering what’s
left of the glass.

“Bring me back a new one,” Wade says.

“Right,” I reply.

“You don’t have to do this,” Jason says. “We can figure out
another way to get in.”

“I have to.” I’m smaller than everyone else. I can get in
and get what we need. “I’m ready.”

I gently place my hands on Wade’s shirt. Luckily the glass
doesn’t penetrate the cotton material to stab me in my palms, so I swing my leg
across the window sill and into the building, or what’s left of it. My foot lands
on the ground, crunching on glass. Instinctively I lift it up, fearing that the
shards will penetrate the worn-out rubber on the bottom of my sneakers.

I glance back at Ms. Burgess. She has her hands over her
mouth. I know she wants to tell me not to go, that it’s too dangerous, but
wanting and needing weapons is stopping her.

I know what I have to do.

I want weapons just as much as everyone else. I give her a
reassuring smile and she sniffles and closes her eyes. I wanted to let her know
that it’s going to be okay, that I know what I’m getting myself into. But I
still don’t think that is enough to relieve her of the guilt she’d have if
anything was to happen to me.

Ken hands me his oversized flashlight.

“Thank you.”

“If you get stuck or something goes wrong, you holler out.
I’ll find a way to get to you,” Jason says.

I look up at him. He has concern written all over his face.
I know he doesn’t want me to go but this is something that must be done.

“I won’t,” I say.

“Sin, you have to promise me that,” he says.

I shake my head. “The lizards might hear me.” Without stalling
anymore, I lower my foot and swipe what I can out of the way. This time when I
put my foot down, there’s hardly any sound at all. Not thinking about it, I
bend my body and squeeze through the opening.

In my first breath I take in the old and stale smell of the
building. It doesn’t smell like rotting food or anything, but of air that has
been sitting for a while. It’s dark…darker than it is outside. I turn on the
flashlight. I can see why Ian wasn’t able to get any further. There’s stuff everywhere,
making it like a maze in here. A lot of the ceiling has fallen, making it
impossible to climb across the top of the debris. The only other option is to
try to go under all the mess. Luckily the shelves that have toppled can provide
an easy way to get around. I can crawl through and under them, using them as a
tunnel of sorts.

I spot a way through, farther down and on the left. I
shuffle along the wall, putting distance between myself and the only way out
and clamping down on the panic attack that’s threatening to seize me.

No time for that.

The only noise that can be heard is me kicking stuff along
the floor, out of my way, and my heavy breathing. As I kick up dust, disturbing
what hasn’t been touched probably since the invasion, I feel the tickle of
particles in my nostrils and in the back of my throat.

A sneeze erupts from my noise.

“Gesundheit,” I hear Ian say.

I wipe my nose with my forearm. “Thanks.”

When I reach a spot where the ceiling is too low for me to
continue standing, I bend my knees and keep going, hitting my butt with my
heels, stretching out my hands for balance. Every now and then I reach out,
touching the ground to stop myself from falling over. There’s a faint “clang”
as the heavy flashlight strikes the floor, but other than that and my shuffling
there’s no sound at all.

The light from the flashlight is the only light I see. I
aim it in front of me, letting it guide me to the opening that I can squeeze
through. I get through the first opening and the next one without a problem.
After I go through each shelving unit, I pray that nothing topples over me. I’m
afraid that, despite Jason’s promise, no one will be able to come and pull me
out, so I’m careful not to touch anything. I stay on the move, searching for
another opening and, I when think I hit a dead end, I use the flashlight searching
for another way forward.

I don’t see one.

My heart picks up its pace. If I can’t get through, we won’t
get the items we need. The thought of turning back around and telling everyone
I failed makes me want to cringe. They won’t be mad at me, but I don’t want to
let them down.

I swing the light of the flashlight again.

There.

I see what appears to be a rack toppled over. There’s a lot
of ceiling mess on top of it. I can slide through, I’d have to push the things
between the slats out of the way, but I should be fine.

And I am.

I make it to the other side without a problem and am surprised
at what I see. The back of the store is much like the front but the middle is
virtually untouched. It no longer has a roof but, besides the overturned
shelves and scattered goods, it’s fine. I glance around, taking it all in. The
left wall is crumpled. I think I can see into the store that’s next to this
one.

I stand. If the muscles in my thighs could talk they would
be screaming. Walking miles a day is bad enough without the additional brutal
thigh squat work-out. I take a minute to lift my legs, one at a time,
stretching out my muscles. It helps to relieve some of the pain.

I take another good look around. There’s so much stuff. A
grin stretches across my face. I did it. Finding what we need won’t be so hard.
The hard part will be trying to go back out the way I came. How many trips like
that can I make before my thighs give out? Two? Three? And I can forget about
carrying anything large or bulky.

“I’m in,” I yell out.

No answer.

I yell it out again.

Still no answer.

I go to the left wall—well, what used to be the wall—and
peer through the opening. I won’t be going out that front door; it’s just as
blocked as the store I’ve just come through.

Maybe I can get through the back?

I step over the boundary and into the next store. Moving
through, I make it to the back. There’s a waist-high pile of trash blocking the
back door, but nothing I have to climb under. I crawl over it to unlock the
door. It won’t open all the way. There’s something blocking it from the other
side. Determined not to give up, I lie on my back and, with wood and shingles
pressing into me, kick at the door. Using all the force I can muster in my
skinny legs, I kick until it finally opens and reveals the fresh air from
outside.

I take a couple of deep breaths and stare up through the
ceiling.

I’d love to lie where I am and feel some kind of
accomplishment, maybe pat myself on the back, but maybe later. I haven’t really
done anything yet.

I hop down and outside. There are docking stations for some
of the buildings on the street but, other than that, the back is just as quiet
as the front.

Get the others
.

I jog along the building to the end of the street and turn one
corner, and then another. I can see everyone down the street, still outside the
building waiting for me.

I raise my hand and open my mouth to call out, to tell them
to come this way, but I stop, clenching my jaw hard. I could have almost cost
us our lives. If there are any aliens around they’ll hear me yelling. I jog to
them instead.

Mia is the first to notice me. With her eyes wide open, she
lets out a high pitched squeal. The others turn. Frightened and confused looks
drape across their faces. They look at me, then past me, then all around,
trying to see what is chasing me.

“It’s okay,” I allow myself to half-yell this out. I don’t
want to scare them, making them take off for nothing.

It works. They don’t run, but they still glance around
warily.

“What’s wrong? What’s the matter?” Jason asks, as I come
closer.

As soon as I reach them, I begin to cough. My lungs expel
all of the dust from the store.

Ken frowns at me. I want to tell him what I found, but I
can’t stop coughing. “Where did you come from? You couldn’t reach the stuff?”

Wade steps to me and pulls me to his side. “If she couldn’t
get anything, she couldn’t get it.”

I clear my throat, which, by now, is scratchy and sore. I
shake my head. “It’s still in there. I saw it.”

Ken blows out a hard, defeating breath. “That’s fine,” he
says in disappointment. “I’m sure this isn’t the only surplus store we’ll pass.
We’ll just have to keep our eyes open.”

Ms. Burgess rubs my back. “It’s okay Sinta. We’ll find
another store,” she promises.

Finally, when the coughing spasms end, I say, “I found an
easier way in. We can all go in and get what we need.”

“You did?” Ken asks.

I nod. “Around back. Come on, I’ll show you.”

We trot to the
back, using the same path I took.

Ken begins to
go through the door but Jason puts a hand on his chest. “Let Sinta show us the
way.”

Ken begins to
shake his head.

“I think Sinta
has put herself in enough danger for one day,” Ms. Burgess says.

“Jason is
right,” Wade says. “She’s been through here before. It’ll be safer if she shows
us the way.”

I open my
mouth to disagree. Ken is our leader, I’m more than willing to let him take
over now, but Ian says, “Go ahead. The last thing I want to do is break an
ankle.”

Everyone is
watching me, waiting for me to lead them. “Okay.” I have no choice.

I scramble up
and across the wall of trash to where I’m able to hop down. My feet crunch on
the dirt, wood and bits of shingles. I wait for them to hop down behind me and
afterward make my way over the crumbled wall and into the surplus store.

“Sweet,” Ian
says, coming to my side.

Wade is the next
to come through. He lets out a low whistle. “Perfect.”

I stand in the
middle taking a look around.

Maybe now I
can pat myself on the back.

“Great job,
Sin,” MJ slaps my back, causing me to take in involuntary step forward. I
wanted a pat on the back, but not to get knocked down.

Shayla stops
next to MJ. “What he said.” She inclines her head to MJ. “But without the
physical abuse.”

MJ grabs her
hand and pulls her away. “Come on, let’s get our swag on.”

Shayla
giggles, letting MJ pull her along. I can’t help but to grin as I watch them
go.

As Mia breezes
past me, she grabs my arm, pulling me along. “A toothbrush and clothes,” she
said dreamingly. “We can also get some clean clothes.”

“Shouldn’t we
get weapons?” I eye where everyone else has congregated. They’re picking guns
off the floor, big ones and small ones. I want a gun. I want the biggest one I
can find.

“We will,” she
says, as we reach the clothes. “After we get a change of clothes, a
toothbrush—maybe two of them—and then backpacks.” She looks at me,
her face brightening. “Oh! We can even find one of those nature backpacks.”

“Nature
backpack?” I ask slowly.

“Yeah, you
know the kind. They have everything you need in them. You can even carry a
small tent and sleeping bag in them.”

I tilt my head
to the side. That isn’t a bad idea. “They should have them here.”

“First clothes,
then toothbrush and then backpack”

“And then
weapons,” I add.

“Of course.
How can we kill aliens without weapons?” she asks with a straight face.

I nod.
How can
we kill aliens without weapons?

Anyone
watching us would have thought this was the best shopping trip we’d ever been
on. And it was. I’ve done my time at the malls with a purse slung over my
shoulder and a wallet filled with the money my dad had sent me. It was guilt
money. I knew it and intended to spend every dime of it.

Mia and I
would visit our favorite stores, leaving with bags of goodies, a lot of which I
didn’t need. I wouldn’t be smiling, or laughing, as I am now. I was always on
some type of emotional mission. One I couldn’t explain. All I knew is that I
wanted my dad to pay for not seeing me. For keeping me tucked away in his back
pocket. I wanted him to know that his money was spent frivolously and with
abandon. I wanted him to know that I didn’t need him and I didn’t need his money.

But, of course,
there was no way for him to know any of this. He never asked me what I had
spent my money on. Every month it would be delivered via courier. An envelope
full, with my name scrawled across it. When I was younger, I would think he had
written it and would imagine that, while he did, he was at least thinking about
me. But then I received a handwritten note from his secretary, telling me of a
college trust fund that was set up for me. The handwriting on the envelopes matched
hers and I knew then that he had not even taken the time to write my name.

Money is
useless now. It can’t be used to bargain for my mom’s life, mine or Mia’s…or
even my dad’s.

I push that
painful thought away. My dad wasn’t the best dad, but he was still mine and now
I probably won’t ever see him again. I can walk home. He can’t.

Is he okay? Is
he safe?