The Last Ones Left

Chapter Six

As soon as they leave, I regret saying they could go.

I realize now how horribly codependant I am. After all, I've been in their care for nearly two thousand years. I don't know how to take care of myself.

But, more importantly, I have no idea where the bathroom is.

I search everywhere, but I just can't find it. There are only five rooms in the whole house, and none of them are a restroom.

Do they use an outhouse or something?

Maybe they just hold it. Or go in the yard. None of those options sound preferable.

Plus, it's completely boring in here. Without my siblings to interrogate or follow around or to assign me stuff, all I can do is sit and wait for something to happen.

I look around the house for some clean clothes. I dig around in Sarah's stuff until I find a few good shirts and pants-- and yes, underwear.

I try to occupy myself in any and every way possible; cleaning (can't find any supplies), drawing (no paper), a game (again, nada.). There's nothing to do here. How they've stayed here so long is beyond me.

I make it through the first day, already bored out of my mind. I slip into some of Sarah's clothes and go to sleep, praying that nothing happens during the night.

When I wake up, sunlight flickers in through the window. I groan and cover my face with my pillow. Waking up is the worst part of the day.

Eventually, I manage to coax myself out of bed. I get dressed and walk into the kitchen.

I freeze in my tracks. Inside the kitchen, is something I'd never be prepared for.

Inside the kitchen is a baby.

"Oh, my gosh!" I scream, running toward it. It starts to cry. "No, no, hush," I whisper, trying to be soothing.

I've never really been around children before. I was, what, twenty when I fell asleep? I didn't have kids, and didn't plan to.

This kid can't be older than a year. It is poorly wrapped in a torn blanket, like a discarded Christmas present. I pick it up, and it sobs louder.

"Shh," I whisper, bouncing it on my hip. Nothing. "Please, for the love of everything good, stop crying!"

I look around for any sign of where the kid came from.I catch a glimpse of a paper on the table. I rush toward it and read it hastily.

Her name is Anna. She is six months old. I can't take care of her, not now, not in these times. You raise her good. You were asleep, so I didn't wake you. Make sure she's safe.

What? She just left this baby girl here, without even telling me? The kid could've died!

What are Caleb and Sarah going to say when they get back? They left to go find people, when all they needed to do to find someone was to stay right here.

Anna stops crying, and looks down at the note in my hand. "Momma," she says in a high-pitched, cute voice.

I smile. Maybe, just maybe, I can get used to this kid. At least now I have something to do.

Just one problem-- well, a lot, actually. We're Immortal, so we don't need food or water or anything. But this is a living, growing child. I don't know what or how to feed her. We don't have any diapers or binkies or anything for babies.

I start rummaging through the kitchen for anything a baby can eat. I find some applesauce, yogurt, and a popsicle. They can eat popsicles, right?

I look around, and realize I'll need to go into town for baby food. What do I do with Anna while I go? I can't take her with me. I don't want a child to see all that. But, I can't just leave her here.

Eventually, I reluctantly agree I have to take her to town. I go and get dressed in tight, black clothes for stealth. What should Anna wear? Should she just stay in the blanket?

I don't have any baby clothes, so I guess she'll have to stay in the blanket. I lace up my boots, grab Anna, and head outside.

Who knows? Maybe I'll find the mother, and she can take Anna back. I can't take care of her any better than she can.

We walk a few blocks before Anna starts crying, a high-pitched, desperate squeal. What do I do? Is she hungry? Cold? Hot? Tired? I bounce her a little, but it doesn't help. She keeps sobbing.

Then I notice the smell. Completely, horrendously awful is the only way to describe it. I know why she's crying now.

I unwrap the blanket carefully and set it on the ground. Underneath, Anna is dressed in ripped pieces of cloth, poorly sewn together. Her clothes-- if you can call them that-- are way too large. I take them off and see the offending substance.

She wears a tiny cloth diaper, and her business is visible without even taking it off. That's another thing we need-- diapers.

I take the cloth off, scrunching up my face. Disgusting. I set it on the ground, put her clothes back on, wrap her back in the blanket, and keep walking.

When I finally reach the town, I search anywhere and everywhere for baby supplies. I find a grocery store, and figure there has to be something.

I dig around for a few minutes. All I find is one measly can of baby food. That's it? I sigh and keep looking. Diapers? Taken. Food? Forget about it. I'm just about ready to give up, when I feel a cold piece of metal on the back of my neck.

"Don't. Move." A muffled voice says.I freeze, squeezing Anna tightly. Oh, no. No, no, no.

"Drop everything you have." Why did Sarah and Caleb have to go? There are plenty of people here; they don't need to look.

I put the baby food on the floor. The knife digs deeper into my neck, drawing a bit of blood. I suppress a cry.

"Drop. Everything," the person says. I look down at baby Anna. She looks at me, eyes wide and terrified. I lower her to the floor slowly.

I am completely terrified. I can't die, but I have more to lose than my life. My siblings. Anna. If I'm hurt, what will happen to them?

"Go. Leave. This ain't your territory."

My eyes open wide in shock. "Bu- but what about-"

"What about what? Everything you found in this store is ours. It ain't yours to lose. Now go."

Anna starts to cry.

"What the--" the voice says, and the knife is taken from my neck. I dab my hand on it and bring it back to my face. A bit of blood, but not much.

The assailant walks in front of me, leaning down to examine Anna. "This kid yours?"

"Um. It's complicated." My voice shakes. Don't hurt her, don't hurt her.

The person stands up, and I get a good look at them. They have a mask on, over their eyes and mouth. They're wearing all black, and are strongly built; lean and fit. They remove the mask, to reveal a woman's face, thin and angular and beautiful. Sharp gray eyes pierce through mine, and she says, "Get the kid and follow me. Be quiet."

I do what she says and she leads me out of the store. "What's your name?" she questions. Her voice is low, yet feminine.

"Christin-na."

"The kid's?"

"Anna. I just found her today."

She nods. Then, as an afterthought, she says, "Kimberly. Call me that, you die. My name is K."

I mimic her nod and follow after her.

"You'll fit in just right with us."