Rowan Steele - The Dying Light

Her momentum threatened to carry her forward, but she was stopped in place by Jack’s hold.

“Look, you did what needed to be done. And if you hadn’t, I’d be dead, and you’d want to be. I’m not and you’re not. All because you acted. You did something that most people wouldn’t have the guts to. You don’t let yourself become a victim. So, focus on that, take it for what it is,” he said.

She had held his gaze the entire time, watched as his expression became as animated as she had ever seen it. Instinctively she sensed that he was speaking from experience, experience that she wondered about but didn’t bother to ask.

It didn’t matter, and he wouldn’t share it with her anyway. Instead, she thought of his words that morning.

“You told me to take it for what it is?” she asked, her voice almost a whisper that got lost on the whipping wind. “What was that?”

“You defended yourself.” He paused, then went on. “You defended me. Thank you for that.”

Intellectually, Cassandra knew he was right, had known it all along. But somehow, hearing what Jack said touched something. She felt oddly emotional, the contradicting feelings difficult for her to process. She knew he was right, and she knew she had done the only thing she possibly could have. But she couldn’t shake the feeling of sadness and dread.

It was enough to make her eyes well, but Cassandra wouldn’t let tears fall.

The man she killed hadn’t deserved them, and what was more, she realized this went deeper.

The Cassandra that she had been before, the world that Cassandra was from, was gone.

A small part of her wondered if it would ever come back.

But then she decided that didn’t matter.

What mattered was staying alive.

What mattered was surviving.

In that moment, Cassandra swore she would do just that.

Jack looked at her, studied her as she processed his words.

He was no good at this. He dealt with people who were trained, people who understood the realities of life and the evil that sometimes inhabited it.

He thought she had to, but it was clear that wasn’t the case.

But Jack knew she understood now.

In some ways, he felt sorry for her. In the past, she had been able to live in the relative comfort of never having had to make a life or death decision. And certainly not ever having to bring about that death herself.

No matter how deserving those men had been, Jack knew that it would bother her.

But as the seconds ticked by, he could see as she started to understand.

He could also see as she came to grips with their new reality.

Everything that had happened since that elevator left Jack with no doubt.

Whatever was happening was terrible, probably worse than he could have imagined. And it wasn’t going to be over soon.

It might not ever be over at all.

So, while she might not know it, those men had given her a precious gift. Cassandra was going to have to look after herself, look after the people she cared about, assuming they were still around.

She knew that now.

And she wouldn’t forget it.

A moment later, Jack let her go, wondering briefly what had come over him.

The night before had been tense, and when they had finally made it a safe enough distance, Jack had stopped, but he had known that Cassandra was still on edge.

He had left her alone though, knew that she needed to work this out in her head before he broached the subject.

It had been tough.

He had expected a breakdown at some point last night, had expected it at any moment during the walk this morning.

It hadn’t come, at least not in the way he had expected it.

He could have understood tears, falling apart, but that anger, the boiling rage that had been simmering just below the surface, it had the same effect.

Interesting that she had chosen rage rather than tears as her response, but then again Cassandra had contradicted his expectations at every point along the way so far.

In reality, he shouldn’t be surprised that this was no different.

But he also knew he had to keep her from taking it too far.

“I think we’re less than a mile away,” Cassandra said.

They had walked in silence for most of the morning, into the afternoon, taking an easy pace.

They could have gone faster, and Jack didn’t necessarily like burning up this much daylight. But, on the other hand, a slow and steady approach was probably best.

This area was far more rural than Atlanta and even the suburbs that they had passed.

But he wasn’t naive enough to believe that they were the only ones on the road. He’d learned that the hard way, so he was okay with trading a little bit of speed for a lot more awareness.

He been constantly scanning, searching the horizon for any sign of disturbance, any sign of an enemy.

And as they got closer, that concern had him on even higher alert.

Cassandra thought she knew these people, knew this place, but Jack didn’t.

And, even if she had, she had no idea what had happened in the days since the elevator.

They had no way of knowing what they might find.

“The place we’re going to, is it in the middle of town?” he asked.

Cassandra shook her head.

“It’s on the outskirts. It’s a farm, about sixty acres I think,” she said.

He could hear some of her tentativeness in her words, got the impression that she might have known the answer right off the top of her head once, but that it had been a long time since she had to access that information.

“You keep in touch with these people?”

“Yeah,” she said.

But…?” he asked, something behind the way she’d said the word that he wanted to understand.

“I haven’t been as good at it as I should’ve been. My aunt and uncle are old school, like turn of the twentieth century old school. Their house is on a well and not a sewer, and they run power, what little they use, on generator. It’s not exactly conducive to text messaging or social media. And I’ve been busy. Too busy to get back here for more than five years now,” she said.

He could hear her shame in her voice.

He didn’t try to make her feel better about it. Instead, he reflected on the good thing she had said. Sixty acres was not as much is he would have liked, but it gave them some space. And if the land was like the rest of the surrounding scenery, they’d have a better chance of spotting anyone, or anything, who might approach.

The relative flatness of the terrain put them at somewhat of a disadvantage, but in this case, Jack didn’t mind. If someone were to approach, Jack would see them first and take the advantage.

They walked the rest of the way in silence, and about half a mile out, Jack spotted a speck on the horizon.

“That the house?” he asked.

“No. It’s one of the outbuildings. The house is farther down.”

Jack nodded, paying even more attention now. “Do they have livestock?” he asked.

“I don’t think so,” Cassandra responded. “They used to have cows, a few chickens, but I think they got to be too much for them to handle on their own,” she said, her voice again taking on that tinge of regret.

Jack didn’t say anything, but the closer they got to the outbuilding and the house that he finally spotted in the distance, the more excited he became about the prospects of this. He needed to get home, but he didn’t know how feasible that was, at least not immediately.

He hated the idea of staying in this place, but it might work for the short term. Again, he knew the location wasn’t ideal, but there was something he could work with, assuming not many of those things were around.

“It seems quiet,” she said.