The Last Ones Left

Chapter Five

Once we reach the store (and I try not to think of the journey there) there aren't many supplies to greet us. Instead, there are empty cabinets, shattered glass, spilled liquids-- basically, just a useless pile of junk. I'm about ready to spin on my heels and walk back out, when Sarah grabs my arm.

"Want to leave before checking the storeroom?" She grins and walks behind the counter, opening a door. She gestures for me to enter, and I do.

I look up, and my mouth goes to the shape of an 'O'. The shelves inside are full of goodies; medicines, food, clothes, drinks... It's a post-apocalyptic paradise.

I dig in, shoving anything and everything into a knapsack Sarah had given me. Frozen lasagna, bottles of water, and more bottles of Pepto Bismol than I thought was physically possible. Sarah does the same, until are bags are bulging with food. There's plenty more on the shelves, but simply no space in our bags.

Sarah shrugs. "I guess we're done, then."

I nod and follow her out the door. I hold my breath, grimacing, and keep my head up when walking back out onto the street.

My foot comes in contact with something. By habit, I look down, and instantly regret doing so. Under my foot is a human head, with barely any skin left on its face and in the eye sockets, just empty holes. I follow the head to the neck, and then lower. I nearly puke. The body looks like it was picked to the bone; the skin is peeled off, and any meat that was once there is simply gone. All that's left is bone and a few torn-apart morsels of flesh.

"Just keep walking," Sarah mutters, grabbing my arm.

Finally, we get back out where there's no risk of touching dead people. We start the long walk home. Already my feet seem to ache.

Sarah notices my struggle. "We're almost home; you're probably just out of shape after not moving for so long."

Usually, I would take offense, but I can't spit back a witty comeback because I'm gasping for breath. Instead, I give a weak nod and stumble home.

I throw open the door and collapse in a chair. I set my bag on the floor. Caleb gives me a questioning look and opens his mouth, but I silence him with a death glare. Sarah was right. I am out of shape.

Caleb walks over and picks up my bag. He starts rummaging through it. He nods, pulling g stuff out one by one, examining them.

After he's done, he sets the empty bag on the floor and sits back in his chair. "So," he says, twiddling his thumbs, "I've been thinking- and-and I-I was-"

"Spit it out already!" Sarah calls from the other room. Caleb clears his throat, and continued talking.

"Iwasthinkingwecouldgooutandlookforotherpeople," he says so quickly it almost seems like one word.

"Slow down, Speedy Gonzalez!" Sarah says. I give her a questioning look.

"Who is that?"

She shakes her head. "Not important. Caleb, say it so we know what you're saying."

Caleb's cheeks flush. "I was thinking we could go out and look for other people. Maybe, somewhere, very, very far away, there is someone else."

Sarah's eyes bulge. "No way. Last time, that didn't end well. Besides, she can't walk that far."

"Hey, I can--" I start, but Sarah glares at me.

"Really? You can't walk a few blocks, but, hey, you can walk all around the freaking world."

I clear my throat, cheeks flushed. "I was going to say that I can take care of myself," I whisper, embarrassed.

Caleb looks up and pushes up his glasses. "She's right. After all, she did it for a few thousand years."

Sarah waves her arms around, exasperated. "You don't get it! We can't just leave our only chance here alone! What if something happened? What if she, for some reason, had to leave? We'd come back, and then our one chance of being able to fix all of this is gone."

Caleb looks at her. She takes a deep breath, worn out after her long rant. Caleb looks into her eyes, her odd-colored eyes, and she sighs. "I'm just scared," she whispers, eyes wide.

"I know." Caleb pats her back. "I've been scared ever since I was born."

"It's just-- I've lost her before. I don't want to lose her again."

Again, she talks as if its her fault. I want to know so badly what happened all those years ago, but instead I offer awkward words of comfort. "Sarah, Caleb is right. I'll be fine. Besides, we need to know if there's anything else. You said last time it didn't end well, which means your journey was cut off short. For all we know, there could be people." Tears well up in my eyes. "I can't go any longer without knowing for sure."

She sighs, sitting down. "I guess you're right."

"Of course I am." I grin. "Now, come on, you have to get ready."

Caleb smiles and rushes off to the other room. I follow him, prepared for an interrogation. He doesn't seem to notice me, and he jumps when I start to talk.

"I still have a lot of unanswered questions."

He spins around and sees me. "Oh. Ra- Christina," he catches himself. "Hi."

"You heard me."

"Fine." He bites his fingernail nervously. "Shoot."

"First off, what happened that made me--"

He interrupts me. "You know I'm not going to answer that one."

I groan. "This is exactly what I'm talking about. Why won't you tell me anything?"

"It's... Complicated." He fiddles with his shirt pockets. "Besides, if anyone's going to tell you, it should be Sarah."

"Everytime I ask her, she freaks out."

"She has every reason to. Now, if you don't mind..." He pushes past me, reaching for something on a nearby shelf. "We have to get ready. Good luck. Try not to get mauled." He grins grimly.

"You too." I smile and pull him into a hug. He pulls away.

"Bye, then."

"Bye."

And then he walks out.