Ryan Westfield - Getting Home

Dan glanced nervously back through the windshield.

There wasn’t anyone there. The road was empty. But they’d be coming. He just hoped that Rob would be back out of the house with Olivia before they got there.

How could he fight them off by himself?

But if he had to, he was going to be ready. Gun in hand, he opened the door, shoving his weight against it.

He got into position in front of the hood of the car. It’d give him some cover, and he’d still be able to see them coming.

Dan glanced back at the house, the screen door still creaking on its hinges. The seconds were ticking by. Rob needed to hurry up.

A thought crossed through his mind. Was it right, what they’d just done? They’d stolen the car from two strangers. They didn’t know anything about them. They didn’t know what kind of people they were, or what they’d been doing by making those strange noises.

And if they came for the car, Dan would only have one choice. He’d have to shoot. Shoot to kill if he could.

It didn’t seem right.

But he couldn’t let that stop him.

After all, he had been shot at. They’d opened fire first.

Of course, they’d had good reason. Their car’d been stolen.

“Ijust can’t get it out of my head,” said Mandy. “It’s just so weird.”

Max just grunted, saying nothing.

“What do you think they were doing with them? Eating them? Fattening them up and eating them one by one?”

“Doesn’t sound very efficient,” said Max. His voice sounded hoarse and tired. His face looked drained of its energy.

“You feeling OK?” said Mandy. “You don’t look so good.”

“I’m fine,” grunted Max.

“Your leg OK?”

He grunted again, giving a stiff nod.

They’d been walking for a full day. They’d decided they wanted to get back as quickly as possible. Any time they stopped to rest, they’d be exposing themselves to more danger. And they’d have to take turns sleeping in case anything happened.

They knew from experience that taking turns sleeping only led to both of them being semi-exhausted rather than fully rested.

So they’d decided to press on, as far as they could. It was all a gamble. Exhaustion made them less able to fight.

But since they didn’t know what the odds were, they were guessing as best they could.

Nothing could be perfect. Not since the EMP.

Mandy had been feeling all right. She’d been on her second or third wind for the last couple hours. She’d lost track.

But now the exhaustion hit her like a ton of bricks. She felt it in her muscles, and deep in her bones.

She was out of breath. And all of a sudden.

“You’d better eat something,” said Max, who must have been passing through the states of exhaustion at a different rate than she was. He was going slow and steady. “Here.” He handed her a bag of chips.

“Jerky?” she panted.

“You need the carbohydrate now,” said Max. “Trust me.”

As they walked, Mandy tried to open the bag of chips with her hands, but she soon gave up, handing the bag to Max, who opened it for her.

The chips tasted good. The salt was the best part of them.

A few minutes after eating the chips, and drinking a healthy amount of soda, Mandy started to feel a little better.

“Maybe I’m hitting my fourth wind,” she said. “Do those exist?”

“Why not?” said Max.

They were walking north. They’d left the highways behind and were walking on rural roads. They’d passed alongside a few small towns. They’d walked through old industrial areas, where the factories had closed down years before the EMP.

They’d walked by train tracks and small rivers.

They hadn’t seen anyone. Not a single car or a face. Part of that was because they’d kept their distance.

“You think everyone’s dead or in hiding?” said Mandy.

“A little bit of both,” said Max.

“You OK?”

“Yeah,” he grunted. “It’s just my leg.”

“You want to stop and rest?”

He shook his head. “I can keep going. Any idea how close we are?”

Mandy had been thinking about their position for the entire trip, and while she didn’t know precisely where they were, she had a vague enough idea.

“Maybe one day more,” she said. “We’re not going to be able to walk straight through.”

Mad nodded. “Let’s keep going through the night, though,” he said.

Their conversation grew sparser as the day turned into night and the serious fatigue set in. Mandy had gotten far past any third or fourth winds.

She’d gotten to the point where she had to actively concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other. It was like consciously sending messages to her body to keep moving.

If something happened, if someone came along and they had to fight, she knew she wouldn’t be any good.

But they pressed on, hoping that the cover of darkness would help them. Mandy had rubbed dirt on her sneakers, and Max had cut the reflective pieces off with his knife.

They had no packs, and no flashlights either. It was hard to see at times, but their eyes adjusted somewhat. It’d be hard to spot them unless someone really knew where to look.

The darkness was, at times, so intense that Mandy found herself engulfed in terror. Before the EMP, the night had always been something that had frightened her. First, as a child, she’d been scared of the usual monsters under the bed and the unknown that the yawning blackness offered.

Later, as an adult, it had been a matter of practicality. Night was when people got mugged and attacked.

She was trying to remind herself that the night was to their advantage now.

But it didn’t quite work.

Her rational mind knew that the night now offered more serious threats than before the EMP. After all, she’d lived in a relatively safe area with little crime. And the monsters from her childhood had never even been real.

Somehow, they managed to trudge through the entire night, and when the sun rose, they found themselves standing on the side of a familiar road.

“This’ll take us back to camp,” said Mandy. They were the first words either of them had spoken in hours.

“You sure?”

Mandy nodded. “I don’t know how it happened, but somehow we’re back on that road…”

But she couldn’t remember the name of it. Max seemed to understand, and didn’t ask her. He must have trusted her. Maybe as much as she trusted him.

“We’re going to make it,” said Max.

He put his arm around her back and pulled her close. They stood there together on the edge of the empty road with the sun rising.

John was the one who saw Georgia first.

She looked beyond exhausted. Her face had gone completely pale.

His first reaction was to grab his rifle and point it in her direction. After all, the way things had been going, there could easily be trouble. People behind her. People following her. Anything was possible.

He waited for Georgia to call out, for her to tell him that everything was clear.

But she said nothing.

He walked forward slowly, keeping his eyes trained on the surroundings rather than Georgia.

But there was nothing.

When he got to her, he gave her his arm.

“You OK?”

She nodded.

But she didn’t seem OK.

“Anyone follow you?”

“Don’t know.”

“Let’s get you back to the van. Are you injured?”

She shook her head.

She leaned most of her weight against him and together they limped back to the van.

Sadie, James, and Cynthia came running over.

“Mom, are you all right?”