The Ascent

Chapter 8

Naturally, when Jasmine needed to be as quiet as a mouse, every step she took sounded like a clap of thunder.

The decorative chain on Jasmine's shoes jingled loudly like one of those spurs that cowboys wore. Even her breathing sounded way too loud in the empty, gloomy corridors of her apartment building.

As fear kept building up, Jasmine started wondering if the kid was right, if returning home was one of the worst ideas she had ever had. Maybe they should have headed for the hills or the forest in their case.

Instead of allowing her doubts to make her turn around and abandon her quest, Jasmine started taking two stairs at a time, determined to finish her mission. Besides, she was sure she had good reasons to take that risk in the first place. The fact that she couldn't remember any didn't mean they weren't brilliant.

Upon reaching her apartment door, Jasmine realized the most challenging mission was yet to come, unlocking the door. The first problem was the keys that were anything but quiet, and the second one was the loud click the door made as she turned the key. The fact that she had left it double-locked only served to add an extra layer to her already enormous amount of dread.

"Finally," she whispered after finding herself on the other side of the door, inside her apartment.

She slid down the door, her back pressed against it, doing her best to stop herself from having another panic attack. They most definitely didn't have any time for those.

"You are home, you are home," she chanted under her breath, trying to convince herself that everything was okay. That it was normal.

She was home, in her safety zone, and she had to focus on that. The fact that she would have to leave soon enough didn't matter. All that mattered was that while she was inside that apartment, everything was the same as it always was. Nothing had changed. The world didn't end, and she was doing just another chore.

Slowly, Jasmine got back up and focused on what she needed to do. Thinking only about the next step was how she would get past it, how she would not drive herself insane with the worries of her own safety and Isaac's.

"Alright, the first thing is first," Jasmine said, going to her room and taking her photo album from the shelf, gently settling it in her backpack.

In every scenario Jasmine had contemplated, it was the one thing she chose to carry with her, even to the end of the world. Her memories. Recollections of people she loved, some of whom had died and whose faces she could only remember with the help of the photos, but people who were no less precious because of it.

After that, Jasmine started gathering things that she thought would be far more useful for survival, although she wasn't sure what they would or wouldn't need. Still, she couldn't afford to carry too many things with her. It would only slow her down. So, she had to choose carefully.

Firstly, she put a few boxes of matches she always had for her candles and added some light but necessary clothing items. Then she put those binoculars she never got to use around her neck, to spot the danger before it was as close as it had gotten that day. Furthermore, she tossed inside some bread and as much unperishable food as she could find in her poorly stocked kitchen.

Looking around the house to get some inspiration, Jasmine saw her cousin's famous 'intruder bat' that she kept in case someone tried to rob them. She quickly decided that having something for self-defense might be wise. Even though she didn't know for sure if a wooden bat would do anything against someone who managed to get to so many people without using any violence as far as she could tell.

"Yes, yes, and maybe some kitchen knives or something," Jasmine thought, jealous of the people in movies who always seemed to have guns and all types of handy equipment. And here she was, choosing between her lousy knives.

Taking two of the sharpest ones, she stopped short of putting them in the backpack as it could rip it open. Furthermore, they would be useless on her back if she suddenly needed to defend herself. Thinking about it, she put the bat inside the backpack so that she could pull it out like archers pulling out arrows, freeing her hands.

After that, she found her friend's soft leather eyeglass cases, and the idea struck her of how to carry the knives in the safest possible way. She took the drawstring from her favorite pants, made a hole in one of the cases, put the string through it, and repeated the process for the second case. Now that she had them both on the drawstring, she put it on like a belt and adjusted it so that they both hung on her hips like a pair of pistols in wild west movies.

"Let's hope it holds. With any luck, I won't end up looking ridiculous and making a lot of noise," Jasmine mumbled, looking at her newly fashioned belt that looked strong enough.

To test it, she put both knives in their improved sheaths, the one with the firmer handle and better blade to her right so she could use it efficiently if the need arose. She wasn't even sure if she could do it, but she wanted to be ready for anything.

As the belt held true, even with the added weight of the knives, Jasmine proceeded to get her second water bottle. Finally, she scanned the room one last time, feeling like there was something important that she was forgetting. But how could one think of everything one might need, even if that someone was Jasmine, who had gone through all those apocalyptic scenarios a thousand times.

Seeing the salt shaker, Jasmine grabbed it and filled another small container with salt.

Even though she knew everyone would have found that weird, she still remembered what her great-grandmother had told her about the war she had lived through. Sometimes the food was so bland and tasteless that just a pinch of salt would have made eating it so much easier.

Jasmine didn't want to make any valuable lessons go to waste. Thus, she was determined to do her best to remember even the tiniest thing that could help them survive in the wild.

One thing was for sure, the cities weren't safe. Something horrible had happened and might continue to happen, so the first priority was to escape. Only then could they figure out what happened and if it happened everywhere.

She put on her most comfortable shoes, checked her supplies, and was about to set off on the journey that could end up being her last one, when she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. Her heart dropped because she didn't need to check the phone to know who it was.

It could only be Isaac informing her that her worst nightmares were coming true and that the bald men were coming for her. Still, she quickly pulled out her phone and checked the message.

Bald men in front of the building. Just standing there. Can't go in. Find another way out.

The problem with his message was that her building had only one exit. There were no emergency exits, no fire escapes, nothing. The only way in or out was through the front door.

"At least that was the only safe way out of the building," Jasmine thought as an inkling of an idea formed in her mind.

It was a horrible idea. One of those that could end up killing Jasmine, doing all the work for the bald men. Yet, it still sounded better to her than facing whatever those creepy men were up to.

I have an idea. Wait there.

Saying it was an idea was a lie. It was more of a suicidal half-idea, but it was better than nothing. Fear lying dormant while she was tinkering around the house awoke with a vengeance. But maybe that was a good thing. Fear was what kept people alive.

It was time to be brave and face one of her fears to avoid another.

She needed to find courage. Fast.