Across the Deadzone

Chapter 23: Ophelia

Coatés had been right. Within an hour, we could just make out the skeletal remains of a small town. On either side of us, the strictly flat ground began gently sloping up, and further ahead it flattened out, forming a plateau. The town sat nestled in the middle of the canyon. We were stuck at the bottom of a canyon, with nothing but a creepy town ahead of us and open desert behind us. Great.
The same strange itch made its way into my mind, just annoying enough that it made me pause. Along with it, a thought popped into my head:
Go back.
But it made no sense. Wystan was the only true reason I would have stayed, and he was here with me now. I glanced back at him over my shoulder. He gave me a tired, dazed smile and I nodded in return.
But even weirder still, it almost seemed like the thought wasn't my own, like it had been planted there by some kind of outside force.
Still, I pushed it away, which wasn't easy. The thought was irritatingly persistent, like the constant drip of a leaky faucet.
We walked for hours- four, if I was reading the position of the sun correctly- but the town barely seemed to grow any closer. And the air didn't get any cooler, even as the sun began to sink beneath the canyon walls, spraying a scene from a watercolor painting above us.
Finally, after my legs began to cramp up and the heat of the sun was making me dizzy and parched, Coatés turned to us.
"We aren't going to make it to the next Safe Spot tonight," he said, his face set grimly. "We're about twenty minutes outside that town, and I don't wanna get any closer in the dark. Just in case."
Timber and Wystan came to stand on either side of me. Wystan's gaze fixed warily on the town that looked like it was one sandstorm away from disappearing to the wind forever.
"We'll camp here for the night," he went on, gesturing to the patch of ground around us.
"Comfy," Wystan muttered, sounding as tired as a person could possibly be. He tossed his bag to the ground and all but collapsed down beside it. I shook my head but followed his example with a slight smile on my face. I knew we had work to do to make the camp ready before nightfall, but we all needed a short rest.
Timber nuzzled her head into my chest, forcing herself into the spot between my legs. Saliva dribbled from her mouth, trickling down onto my leg.
"Gross," I whispered with a laugh, kissing her head. "Can you get her some water?" I asked Wystan, and when I turned, he was already holding out a bottle.
I thanked him and tried to disregard the knot that tied itself in my stomach at the fact that he seemed to have read my mind.
Just like when we were kids.

After we'd set up camp, a campfire flickering lowly in the center of our group, we settled down for the night. The sun had set, leaving an inky blackness in its place. The yellow haze was still visible, even in the dark.
Around and inside the Deadzone, it was too hot for sleeping bags- even at night when the air was chillier- so we spread thin blankets out underneath us to prevent the sand from chaffing our skin.
I sprawled out beside Wystan with Timber on my other side. I folded my hands over my stomach as I gazed up at the stars.
Something was starting to change between us. We were starting to act like before. Like friends. Not just acquaintances who had known each other in a past life. And I found that I didn't hate it. I never noticed how much I missed him until I got him back.
When the apocalypse first started, I'd tried to block out everyone I'd known. I had to focus on what was happening at the moment, or I'd never have made it.
With that realization, I wondered why I hadn't been able to do the same thing with my sister. The possibility of her still being alive was minuscule.
I had dragged Wystan out here after me on the almost nonexistent chance that my sister was still alive.
Maybe I was crazy after all.

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes and I sat up quickly.
I placed my hand on his arm, and he gave me a confused- and somewhat worried- look when he saw the wet shimmer in my eyes.
Stevie and Zilla sat on the other side of the fire, and Coatés was off scouting the area, so no one heard or saw me when I whispered out my words.
"I'm so sorry, Wys. Coming out here was a mistake. I realize that now. Thalia's-" I choked on my words, literally choked, finding that I couldn't breathe. "Thalia's probably dead a-and I dragged you out here, and-"
He didn't even let me finish my sentence. "Hey, you didn't drag me out here. I came here on my own, okay?" When I didn't answer, and instead chose to pick at the sleeve of my jacket, he repeated himself, a little louder. "Okay?"
I nodded, still not meeting his eyes. Gently, as if I could break as easily as glass, he took my face in between his hands, cupping my cheeks. "And don't you dare give up hope that Thalia's alive. Not when we're this close to finding out for sure."
I nodded, feeling ashamed of my outburst, before leaning into his chest. He ran his fingers through my- most likely matted- hair soothingly.
"It's okay to lose hope once in a while, O," he whispered into my ear. "The important thing is that we get back up, brush ourselves, and get ready to do it all over again tomorrow. That's what makes us human."
When I finally pulled back, wiping at my eyes, I glanced down at his shirt, now wet and covered in snot. I laughed softly, my throat feeling scratchy. "I keep ruining your shirts."
He rolled his eyes in a way that was somehow kind and reassuring. "I don't care about my shirts, O."
"Good, 'cause I don't think that's the last one you're gonna have to throw out," I mumbled, curling up on the ground with my back pressed against his thigh. I threw my arm around Timber, pulling her toward me.
Now that I had had a good cry, I was even more exhausted than I had been. My eyes were already sagging. I borrowed my face into Timber's fur. Nestled between my two favorite 'people,' I promptly fell asleep.