US (Formerly The After Effect - Book 2)

16 - R O G U E

//it's been a while,,always subject to change//

The split was effective immediately. Despite the rude awakening of Brink ripping Travis's neck apart, it didn't take long for everyone to choose to stay awake and start dividing up supplies, not that there were much. The struck deal was as followed: every two days we'd camp together, and gradually extend the period to every three, four, five days if that worked out well. If things went wrong, we'd come up with a new strategy. At this point, no one knows what to do or where to go except when directed. Usually by Jada.
In all honesty, this "trip" (more like escape), has been exactly the opposite of what I presumed it would be. I had hoped for civility, much more trust among us all, and overall respect. Worse, I feel I've been the leader of all the negativity. Travis as my sidekick.
My mind isn't so much the Aurora Mayfield it was a few months ago.
Less than a year ago, I was a farm girl with a couple friends and a horse. I never left my own town until the outbreak exploded. I never left Earth until Brink snatched me up. I never loved before Travis. I never felt responsible for anyone's death until Katie. I've never felt so much regret, so much anger, so much pent up emotion than I do today.
It would be easy to sob every single day. I have so many things to cry over if I spend more than a minute alone with myself and reminisce about my past. I could even tear up over what I'd just done to Zeriah and Brink. All because of distrust. I sit on the same log, the same spot I've been nearly all night, and gaze at the muddied snow. The purity stricken from its precious white composition. Slowly the mud will seep into the ice crystals like water to dehydrated roots and melt it until it's vanished entirely. The snow has become a symbol of grace, of good, of untouched innocence and we've stomped all over it with our dirty boots.
They were just doing the right thing.
And I attacked.
Just like that.
Without assuming the consequences. Without caring about the aftermath of my ability. No warning. No threat. No innocence. Just hate. Misjudgement.
I could have killed them. Had they been regular humans, who knows? Maybe they would be dead right now.
Sometimes I just don't understand myself. I don't get why I do what I do. I sit and criticize Travis for his temper and haven't for a moment looked back at myself and seen the horrifying things I've done. I'm more of a monster than Travis. At least Travis is somewhat predictable. I'm a ticking time bomb for crying out loud. I'm a wreck.
If there is going to be any splitting up, I need to divert myself from all of them. Not just the Five. Or my mother. Or the revolutionaries. I need to walk alone. I need to reconfigure my brain. Force it to retract its devilish ways and reverse itself back to who I truly am inside. Who Aurora Mayfield is. Not who Number Five is. Who knew the power a number could hold over your head? It's changed my life forever. It's changed the entire universe. I've changed the universe.
I need to fix this. And the only way to do so is to stay true to myself. Aurora doesn't collapse in on herself. Doesn't implode with pressure, anger, regret, or heart-stabbing pain. She gets back on her horse and finishes the damn course. She overcomes. Perseverses. She fights, dammit. With heart. With pride and virtue. Not evil.
So as I watch those around me, monitor them as they repackage supplies, break into groups, and introduce themselves, I can't help but make the choice to go rogue. To become independent. It's the only chance at restoring my shattered morality.
Is this right?
I close my eyes and breathe in the fresh mountain air, the minimal warmth from the dying fire prickling my cheeks and tip of my nose. My mom crosses my mind first. I know she'll flip when she discovers my absence. She'll probably think an animal snuck in and dragged me away. But I'll have a telepathic conversation when the time comes. First, I need to be far enough to where I won't be having a talk with someone face-to-face.
Making sure everyone is occupied, I pick up my bag, take in one more gigantic breath, and duck under a branch, creating my own path. My new path. I need time to figure out the new me. And where better to do it than on a hike through the mountains in the middle of winter? I'm not scared.
But I sure as hell am motivated and ready for a fresh start.
I've observed Travis's techniques enough to find my way around. Sure, I'll get lost, but I'm already lost.
The good news is, I've gone five minutes and no one is stalking behind me or talking in my head. No one knows I've disappeared. Yet.
I can last at least a day whether I'm miserable or not. I found my way around Braxton all by myself for nearly a week, surrounded by dead people, terrible people, and things people left behind. Now I've got trees, snow, and me. Just me. I can do this.
I crunch along the hard snow and hike my bag farther up my shoulders as I brace myself for a few leaps over logs and holes. Every so often, a breeze filters through the dark wet trunks completely seeping through the fabrics in my clothing. When we travelled as a pack, wind wasn't so much of an issue, as I usually had people at my flanks. Plus, I think my chilliness is overall intensified because of how alert I am as I trudge along. I'm on constant lookout for followers or anything else that moves independently.
The hair on the back of my neck goes erect at each crunch, each bristle of dead leaves, clunk of falling sticks, or drops from melting bark. I keep my hood up to help block out the cold, and every so often I will blow into my hands for extra needed warmth. Only now do I realize warmth wasn't an issue a few months ago, or even a week ago when I had my new suit. The world might be against me, but that's okay. It's me against the world right now. Give me the challenge.
Fire will happen tonight, just as it has the previous nights when I had nothing to do with building it.
I'm not worried a ton about food. I still have some of the "space" packs in my bag, and I ate a ton when the deer meat was served. I know hunger will return with a vengeance, but right now I can't worry about it. I'll figure it out. It's all part of the (unplanned) plan. After all, I'll have no problem killing an animal with my power, come the need to.
I do wonder what time it is. Will there be three hours till daylight? Five? Things are going to get cold fast on an unbeaten path with a good foot of fresh powder. I just hope these clothes hold up.
"Aurora?"
I spin around and freeze, survival instincts immediately springing into action at the voice. Only for me to realize it was telepathic. Stella.
Do I answer right away?
"I'm fine," I reply. "But I'm leaving. We'll meet soon."
I almost wish I could see her reaction. And everyone around her.
That's of course when I start hearing my name being shouted across the woods, echoing through the damp air and soaking into the bark of the forest. It's unmistakably my mother's.
I can imagine her worry as I trek along; her delicate, smooth voice would more than likely be arguing back and forth with Stella and whoever else who denied my search party.
"We need to go after her, now! She can't be alone. It's too dangerous—"
In ways, I can see Travis agreeing with her. Maybe even Jada would tag along.
On the other spectrum, I could see Brink standing by my departure, out of hostility or respect, I'm not certain. Zeriah would surely have something to say along the lines of good riddance.
The Xena ordeal between us may never let us fuse back together, despite how delirious he's being. How does he not see we can't conjure up a rescue mission to save her? We need one thing to happen at a time. First, is D.C.
Heh, maybe.
Now that we know Damon has been watching us since we left, even that plan might be buried in the sand—or snow.
No matter what they have to say about me, it no longer applies to my situation at hand. I won't be dealing with any of them every day anymore. I've got me to worry about. That's all.
Eventually, the name calling quits the further I distance myself from the noise. And the silent forest envelopes me again.
I've got a long trip ahead.
*
The more my eyes adjust to the darkness, the more I can catch outlines of the landscape. Not just the major inclines, but the stacked rocks along hillsides where only their tips are exposed.
As sunlight begins to filter through the clouds, I spot an opening in the throng of trees and investigate, only to find myself surrounded by immense rock formations, scaling along the mountain I'm standing on. I've reached a cliff, hundreds of feet above sea level, and peer out at mountain after snow-topped mountain. Most of the rock I stand on now is free of snow, and only puddles of water remain in the divots in the stone. The sun must heat this spot right up.
Deciding to take a sunrise break, I examine the rock for a dry spot and hunker down, ready to feel the sun soak my skin instead.
It's been a few hours since I departed from the campsite. I've been trucking along without a peep from anyone—telepathic voices included. I wonder what made the Five leave me be? Perhaps they couldn't wait for me to be away from them and not constantly want to engage in their conversations. It was evident they never wanted me a part of them ever.
Aside from Stella, I never quite felt accepted into the stupid world of being superhuman. Being a number. I still have so many unanswered questions about myself. How I came to be...what made me this way...the list is nearly infinite. Once we got away from the headquarters, away from Damon and his awful reign over everyone, I figured I'd discover more, feel more...different.
All I've done is become a heartless bitch and use my power viciously.
The spectacular orange and pink glow of the sun flawlessly paints the sky with its artistic talent. The sun gradually peeks out between two mountain tops thick with dark, dormant trees, nearly stealing my breath from my lungs in amazement. The picture is photo worthy times a million.
It takes me back to a time at my farmhouse when Travis, Katie, and I were gazing upon the multitude of glittering stars above our heads. I remember thinking about how ugly our world was down on the ground, with death and rampage, and yet the Earth still expressed beauty. And today, it chose to do the same. Be gorgeous in a time of tragedy as if nothing has happened down here.
I wonder how the cities look today. The streets, stores, and neighborhoods. Are they still frozen in time, are they burned to the ground? Are there any survivors hanging around? Maybe one of these days I'll discover all of those answers. As much tranquility as these woods bring, I'm already tired of stumbling over logs, ducking under low branches, and getting stabbed by sticks jutting out every which way.
In Braxton, much of the surroundings consisted of rolling hills and farmland. Forests weren't as common as a multi-acre field of green. The appreciation for the woods is alive in me, though I wish it wasn't dampened by snow. It would be wonderful to see the natural beauty during the autumn months. How marvelous would it be to see mountains of tri-colored trees undergoing seasonal change. Red, oranges, and yellows would be speckled about, in no pattern at all, but make perfect sense.
As I dangle my feet off the side of the rock, I sigh, wondering if I'll make it to next fall. Will I ever see another color change of the leaves? Or will I be on some new planet entirely, finding my way through another mess?
Whether I originate from Mars or not, Earth is my home.
Once the sun has fully risen, I stand, take one last scan of the scenery before me, and make my way back toward the woods.
But I spot a trail.
A trail in rocks, I didn't think could really exist, but it is then I realize the graffiti markings around the edges of the set of boulders. Inscriptions of lovers and completely random words fill up the perimeter, and in addition, I spot an arrow, pointing down. There I catch the rest of the trail, straight into the woods and looping around to where I can no longer see it.
Do I follow?
It's not exactly the way I should be traveling, but I figure since I'm on my own now, I make my own choices. So I hike down the trail without a problem, more than a little interested in seeing where it ends up.
The path is well-maintained and easily trekkable, practically a breath of fresh air compared to all of the bush stomping I've had to do. It makes me actually enjoy walking along in the forest.
It does however, seem to stretch on much longer than I anticipated. Time moves much slower when you're alone, so I know what I feel has been three hours has probably only been one. But the result is definitely worth it.
Little did I know, I have been in the center of a state park this entire time, hiking through a national forest. As I approach the base camp, I check around me for any possible signs of human presence. Not even a single car is in the parking lot.
Curious now, I scope the place out and head to, a small tan building near the park's entrance labeled as the information center. To my luck, the door is unlocked, and nothing inside has been destroyed or muddled through. In fact, it doesn't seem like this place had been touched, given the dust and cobwebs and—
"Ahh!" I scream, but hurry to cover my mouth. My cheeks heat up with embarrassment despite me being alone.
An eight-foot black bear hovers over me on it's hind legs, plastic claws out ready to strike. I feel a bit stupid, but I can only be grateful that it's stuffed and not alive.
On a table in front of it lies a stack of park maps so I get my hands on one, excited to see what the rest of this place has to offer. "Take a hike, meander along Skyline Drive, or picnic with the family. 200,000 acres of protected lands are haven to deer, songbirds, the night sky...and you. Plan a Shenandoah escape today!"
Talk about beautiful. The pictures filling up this flyer are certainly postcard worthy.
Intrigued to hear more, I read up on the trails they have, hoping I'll be able to recognize the one I'd been on. Come to find out, huge waterfalls and creeks are basically everywhere around me, which is really good to know, because the inside of my mouth has become sticky due to partial dehydration. Fresh spring water from the source sounds spot on to me right now. It'll just take a couple miles to hike to one.
I shove the trail map into my pants and explore the rest of this place, hoping they'll have some more useful resources at hand.
"How are you holding up?"
Stella, again.
"Great."
"Have you met up with the others?"
So they still split into groups after my departure? Hmph. Good for them.
"I'm alone. No one better be looking for me," I warn.
"Look, Aurora, your mother is worried sick about you. It would be best to hook back up with us or them. You know it's not safe."
I shrug off her words and read about cabins located here, so I set off to go find them. It could be a nice place to hunker down tonight after the fun of fetching water and wandering around the rest of it is done with. Traveling north isn't so much on my mind today as this new gem I found.
"Tell my mom that I made it just fine a week on my own after the outbreak. I can do it. I just need to be away for a while."
She caves easily. "We'll see you soon, then."
The cabins are adorable. Their picturesque, log exteriors scream Boy Scouts, and all I want to do is get inside one. There's a good amount of them, almost like a little neighborhood of homes, ready to be moved into.
I open up the door to the first one I find, and it's locked, causing me to lose hope almost instantly. Determined, however, I go door to door as if to fundraise and ultimately find one opened.
Bingo.
I step inside the little bungalow with a couch and a bunk bed tucked inside nicely. A cute little setup with orange and red Aztec bedding and a matching rug brings the room together. It would be perfect for an overnight stay. Perfect for me.
But before I cozy up, water needs to happen.
*
I'm assuming my timing is way off, and perhaps my sense of direction despite the map is too, because it takes forever to find the waterfall. But the bubbling beauty soon trickles its way into my eardrums and I discover it soon after I've had just about enough searching.
The sight is breathtaking. This entire park has me shaking my head in awe at every surprise nature has for me. This is what I adored about the outdoors.
Generously, I get my fill of the freezing cold water. My footing had to be extra specific otherwise I was either going in or slipping on ice-covered rocks, but alas I was successful and gulping it down freely. Although it spilt all over my face, it tasted flawless, and even numbed my tongue momentarily because of its chill.
When I finish, I take a minute to find a seat and relax a moment, not quite ready to find my way back after hiking all this way to get here. I close my eyes and simply listen to the water rushing over the ledge, crashing into rocks, swirling about in the pool. Despite how cold I am, the water is soothing. Tranquil. In that moment, the world takes a massive pause and begins to loop in one big calming circle.
I've forgotten what it's like to not feel stress. To not worry about what the next moment may bring. The next day.  Soak up the sensation while it here, and before I know it, I'm treading back down the mountain to the base camp.
The cabin becomes really cozy when I shed my damp jacket, remove my shoes, and snuggle beneath the covers. My hands take a good while to warm, as well as my toes, but eventually, I cuddle up and am enveloped by absolute darkness.
The night grows silent. No birds. No squirrels scurrying about outside. I hear nothing. And for me, nothing is far scarier than something. The radio sitting along the side table doesn't work, and I'm not about to tinker with it—mostly because I'm clueless. Even if it did, I don't think turning it on would bring any piece of mind. In fact, it might have the opposite effect.
As the sounds of the day shrink to nothing, the coldness sinks in. The temp is plummeting beyond what I imagined and I promised myself fire, but I figured this cabin would be enough. I was so wrong.
Soon, the shivers commence, and getting out of the bed to even attempt fire-building is a thought that has leaped out the window and dove into a nearby lake. I'm way too cold to move.
Here I am, being a regularly functioning human, and I can't handle it. Maybe separating from the group was a bad idea.
Of course it was. With them, I at least had assets like fire. And people. And warmth, and...
I curl my hands up to my mouth and blow into them. Take a deep breath in, exhale.
The sound of chattering teeth isn't exactly Chopin, but I manage to half-sleep through the night, the coldness driving deep into my bones.

//so. thoughts? I plan on tweaking this some. But I want to hear your opinions!!//