Stay...Together

Chapter 29

Once again, she ran like the whole army was right on her tail. She broke into a sprint, her feet moving too fast for her brain. She didn't want to look back. She didn't want to check if it was safe. She didn't want to slow down as if it were safe. She just wanted to run without question. Get as far away as possible. Not think about the consequences.

The darkness made the area almost impossible to navigate. She could see rather well in the dark, yes, but the shadows still moved. She stared too straightforward to hop right over the wreckage. Her foot would hit the hard, spiky wood, shooting pain in her ankle. It would only slow her down for a while, though, going just as fast and ignoring the part that hurt. The chill sent shivers up her spine. The cold air mixed with her sweat and stuck to her rosy, pale face.

Eventually, the fatigue and the ache overtook her, and she started to slow down. Her feet trailed behind her, and she started to pant like a dog (ew). The slower she went, the more aware she was of the world around her. The shadows became bigger. The crushed buildings around her grew to the size of skyscrapers. The sky was empty and starless, and the moonlight dimmed to nothing. The shadows became silhouettes, flickering and moving around her. More spikes and nails scattered over the ground.

The back of her hand slapped a post of burned wood sticking out of the ground. The pain stung all the way up to her wrist, and she grabbed her hand. She winced and squeezed her eyes shut. However, she kept going.

Victorine's knees wobbled. Her stomach felt like it was about to fall out. Cramps stung her sides and abs. She started to walk in circles, taking in the world around her, completely horrified. Her eyes were wide as saucepans. She tried to take another step, but her legs refused. She limped for just a few more steps before stopping and standing still.

She found herself completely alone in the darkness. There was no sign of life in the wasteland. She couldn't hear anything except the sound of her own heavy breathing. The smell of smoke lingered fresh in the air as if the fire it came from just finished burning bright. Victorine bent over, gripping her knees as she panted. But on the ground were burned dolls heads missing eyes and skinny, premature bones buried in ashes. Victorine stifled a scream and jumped away, squeezing her eyes shut.

Victorine stepped back a few feet before finally opening up her eyes. She stared at the empty sky, the tall, black buildings sticking in her peripheral vision. She tried looking forward but saw nothing but destruction for miles. Buildings full of burned memories that will soon be completely forgotten. People who are possibly dead along with their memories and possessions. Those who couldn't escape from the war. Those who had nothing to do with it in the first place.

Victorine's knees wobbled, buckled, and finally gave in. She dropped to the floor, her palms out in front of her as if begging no one for mercy. She pulled in her legs and let her wide eyes scan the environment, her mouth hanging open. Her nose stung too much to be functional.

The burned-out buildings seemed to be huge and getting taller. The hole-filled roofs were all miles over her head. The charred cars were as big as elephants. The buildings were all ginormous enough to be their own planets. And Victorine was so tiny next to them. Like an ant crawling around outside the Sears Tower. She was just two inches tall; practically nothing compared to what's around her.

She stared down at her open hands. She noticed the little scratch Lee left behind, and the nail marks from the day she saw the body. The one scratch from snatching the can away from Lane. She turned her hands around. She saw the bruises that remained on both knuckles. And the cut from just a minute ago. The only marks left on her body after all she went through. And each one had some prolonged story. Stories that felt like acid was thrown on the conscience just to think about.

Victorine couldn't take another ounce of it. Her blood felt like boiling, poison water. Her heart was beating faster than machine gun shots. The pounding in her head was louder than a nuclear bomb. A riot waged in her mind as she took in the wreckage around her. Flat out giving up, she buried her face in her knees.

And in that town, and the towns around it, there was nothing but black and gray. For miles, there was nothing but buildings in ruin and ash-filled air. The whole land covered in charcoal, with hardly any signs of life. Every object from its old life reduced to cinder never to be seen again. Nothing left. Except, of course, this one little speck of bright white. A single little being who appears completely clean, not taking on a single grain of the dirt around her. A single bit of hope. A tiny bit of purity left.

Victorine spotted Yolanda after about ten grueling minutes all alone. Victorine sprang up and ran to the woman's side, taking her a bit by surprise.

"Oh, thank God," Yolanda mumbled. "They're gone now, don't worry. C'mon, we're not far."

Victorine followed Yolanda not very far to the place the group camped out. They all looked pretty casual, like spotting someone trying to kill them was just Wednesday for them. Victorine bit her bottom lip as she walked up to them. Yolanda shuffled through the bag for any food left (claiming they had some). Victorine's eyes moved to the rest of the group, who were all talking among themselves. The cut on the back of her hand still stung. So did her bruised knuckles. And the rest of the tiny cuts became as irritating as paper cuts. Victorine simply shook her head and her hands clenched into fists.

Silently, she marched up to the front of the group. She stood with her back straight and her shoulders back, waiting for everyone's attention. One by one, all the eyes slowly turned to her. Her eyebrows knit into a scowl.

"You know what, guys?" she announced, her voice squeaking a little. "This thing sucks. This whole situation is pretty effed up. And it's pretty scary, too! I mean, look at us! We're a bunch of traumatized crap-bags trekking through miles of rubble! Doesn't that seem like something to be a bit of a low-end scenario to be a part of? That's really s***ty! And we're all terrified, too! I mean, we're all hot messes. We're going crazy and we're turning against each other every once and a while. I mean, look at that d***head Lane! He lost his parents and was alone in that bomb shelter for who knows how long! Parker got stabbed in the shoulder and Jacey was frickin' blown up. Oh, and we're just bringing Anita along with us now! And Opal up and left us! And look what it did to Gina! She's even more of a Goddamn wreck! And you know what also sucks? Buckley's dead! And so's Lee! And people are probably dying at the mansion, too. Ugly truth. And guys? I'm scared too. I feel like I'm just a little white speck in the middle of a hurricane, constantly being tossed around! That's why I've always shut myself up! I can't say a thing that would make a change! I feel like Kenny from South Park! You ever seen that show? South Park? Maybe it was a bit before your time. A-holes. I'm scared. Really scared. But this whole thing is starting to become too much. F***!"

Everyone was silent as Victorine stood there, glaring at all of them. Tension filled the air. Asha's mouth hung open, while Jacey was speechless. Gina, Lane, and Parker looked flat-out uncomfortable. Yolanda was quiet but just surprised. Anita started lightly clapping.

"I-I...I liked South Park, too," Anita mumbled, awkwardly. Victorine's eyes shot right to Anita.

"You really shouldn't, but good for you," Victorine said.