Rowan Steele - The Dying Light

She tried to let that sink in, tried not to fight against it. She would have to trust that she was equipped to handle anything that came her way, even though she wasn’t sure that was the case.

She looked over toward the direction where she knew Jack would be, wondering why he wasn’t freaking out.

She also wondered if he would teach her some things. Anything she had known before was far too rusty now, and if he was going to go, she needed to get a crash course.

This was all so far into her, but she tried to put her analytical mind to good use.

She knew little about how to defend herself. Her work dealt with those criminals, sometimes very bad ones, but she had a very different approach to defense. She was a woman of words, one whose mind and intellect were the key skills she brought to the table.

But that would have to change.

In this world gone mad, a reasoned approach wouldn’t serve her, and it certainly wouldn’t keep her alive.

Yes, it might help, and yes, she could aspire to try to maintain that, but she knew it couldn’t be her only fallback.

She curled her fingers around the flashlight, lifted it, testing its weight in her hand and against her wrist.

She tried to imagine herself slinging it, and then actually trying to do so but not quite following through.

The flashlight was heavy in her hand, awkward feeling, and so was the motion of swinging it.

It seemed silly to say, but something in her recoiled at the thought of hurting another person. She’d always assumed that was a good thing, but now she wondered if that would be her downfall.

Even before this, whatever this was, there were people who existed to hurt others, who would have had no compunction about hurting her.

Now, all bets were off.

There were those things to think about, and the people out there who she knew would kill her for the two bottles of water in her bag. What would she do when confronted with one of those people?

Would she be able to handle either?

Cassandra wasn’t sure, but she needed to get clarity on that point.

If she didn’t act, she would die.

She knew that, understood it as completely as she’d ever understood anything.

Like it so often did, her mind went back to the courthouse, to the memory of those packs descending.

She wouldn’t let that happen to her.

Cassandra had never thought anything like this would happen. She had been content to live her busy life in the city, fighting the good fight, living in the thoroughly modern world.

But that dream, the illusion that the world had been, had been ripped away from her with not so much as a kind warning.

The desire to sink back into that world, to pretend that everything was good or that everything would be better and soon, was tempting.

Even as she had made the hard ride, she found herself slipping into that frame of mind, allowed herself to think those thoughts.

She couldn’t let that continue to happen.

This was the world as it existed now, and as much she didn’t want it to be that way, as much she so deeply wanted it to change, it wouldn’t change.

She needed to accept that, understand it, and deal with it.

She just hoped she could.

The warmth of sunlight against his eyes pulled Jack out of his slumber.

He had long ago gotten used to sleeping wherever he could, so the jarring wake-up call didn’t throw him off.

He opened his eyes and then sat up, instantly alert and quickly taking note of his surroundings.

Cassandra wasn’t in sight, but he sensed the presence behind him, and when he stood, he found her leaning next to the tree.

“You’re up,” she said, somewhat unnecessarily.

“Yeah. Give me a few minutes and we can get on the road,” he said.

“Okay,” she responded.

He looked at her for moment, the impulse to ask her what was going on strong.

He tried to fight it back though.

It wasn’t his question to ask, and her problems weren’t his.

Still, he found himself asking the words before he could stop them.

“What’s the problem?”

“So, it seems like you know how to handle yourself in this kind of situation,” she said.

“I know how to handle myself as well as I can, but does anyone really know how to handle themselves in this situation?” he responded.

“I appreciate the modesty Jack, or at least I would most times, but now is not the time for it,” she said.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“What I mean it is now was not the time for that kind of false modesty. I feel like such a moron, but I keep having to realize that everything is fucked. And then realize it again. This situation is not getting any better.”

“I know. And I thought you knew that too,” he responded.

“I did. I do. But…” she said.

She trailed off, but Jack didn’t push.

After moment she continued. “But I’m not equipped for this world,” she said.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“I mean, I’m a lawyer. A good one, one of the best,” she said.

“Good to know you’re not a hypocrite,” he said.

She looked at him, puzzled.

“The false modesty thing,” he said.

She gave him a smile, but one that wasn’t as long or as intense as many of her others.

“No false modesty, especially not for something like that. I know exactly how good of a lawyer I am. And how terrible of a survivalist I am,” she said.

“I don’t know that you need to be a survivalist,” he responded.

“That’s bullshit, and you know it. Nobody is going to come and save us. Not for long, long time. And even if we make it to my uncle’s, how long until those things show up? They might be there already,” she said.

Jack had been considering the same thing and was a little bit surprised that she had also reached the same conclusion, though he suspected he shouldn’t have been. Cassandra had proven herself nothing if not insightful.

“So, what does all this mean, in your mind?” he asked.

“It means I’m gonna have to get better at taking care of myself. Get better at doing all the things that I forgot how to do or never bothered to learn. God, I could kick my own ass,” she said.

He looked at her, watching she frowned.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“I mean I don’t know how to do shit. I can’t even change the tire,” she said.

“I’m sure you know how to do stuff,” he said.

“Jack, don’t try to make me feel better. It doesn’t suit you,” she said.

“Fine. You know how to do shit, but neither do most people. You can’t go back in time and change that though, so what are you going to do about it now?”

“I was hoping you would ask me that,” she said.

He looked at her, wary now. “Why do I feel like him stepping into something, Cassandra?”

“You not stepping into anything. But I need your help,” she said.

“Didn’t I help you already?”

“Yes, and for that I am grateful. I told you before, but let me say it again. I would have died in that elevator. I’m lucky to not have that be the last place I ever saw. So, thank you for helping me get out.

“You’re welcome,” Jack responded, knowing that she spoke the truth and not insulting her enough to pretend otherwise.

“But,” he said.

“But I need your help more,” she said.

“I don’t know what I can do,” he said.

“Good. But I do,” she said.

“Go ahead,” he responded.

“The town is rural, and in a lot of ways it’s completely self-sufficient. But that’s not gonna help me if I don’t know how to do anything.”

“Won’t your family protect you?” he asked, wondering where this was headed.