Salvation

VI

            That night, Easton and I pulled the canoe into the shed, hiding it from sight as we hunkered there for the remainder of the night, locking ourselves in the small shelter for protection as we got some rest.

The sunlight filtered in through the small window, the bright light waking me up as I felt the excitement building up inside of me. I was actually here on the mainland. I got up quietly, shouldering my bag on my back, weapon in hand as I exited the shed.

My breath was stolen from my lungs as I looked at the large towering buildings, my back to the water as I looked at the sight in front of me in awe. It was better than I could have imagined. Turning to look over my shoulder, I couldn't see the island from here, just miles and miles of water.

I turned back to the land in front of me, in awe that the land seemed to stretch as far as I could see. I imagine if I climbed up one of those trees in the distance that I wouldn't be able to see the end of the mainland.

It was breathtaking.

But at the same time, all the resentment in my body fell away. All the resentment I had for my father, slipped away the moment I saw what was in front of me.

How could I hold that type of anger in me when I was gazing at this beauty in front of me. My feet moved without my knowledge as I drifted farther into the town, completely forgetting about Easton as I walked slowly.

This is what I had dreamed of for so long, and I was finally living it. The cold air was familiar as the cloud of breath billowed out in front of me as I ventured into the area.

The large buildings were worn down, they jutted into the sky as the vines crept along the side. My head was tilted back, as I gazed up at the sight of the massive buildings surrounding me.

It made me wonder what life was like before the dead roamed the streets, much like the ones were a mile down as they shuffled aimlessly.

I often dreamed about the life I could have had if I was born before the apocalypse. Would I have still been showcased as a freak, or would I have been accepted for who I am.

Would I still be who I am now?

"I hope you don't think you can get away from me that easily." I rolled my eyes at the sound of Easton's voice, I should have ran when I got the chance.

"Let's go, were wasting daylight." I double checked my body to make sure my weapons were all situated in their rightful place. "We should check out these buildings first before heading father into the mainland. My parents talk about leaving things here for when they run out here at the mainland."

Easton didn't say anything as he followed behind me as I approached the large buildings. They were honestly a little intimidating, I had never seen anything so large in my life before, it rivaled the trees even.

My fingers flexed around the leather handle of the bat as I made my way to the broken opening with a wooden palate propped up against the opening.

Easton helped me pick up the palette and move it to the side as we step into the dark building. From what I had learned from my community in the past years was that the world used to live off of electronics and batteries, but as the years passed and supplied dwindled, we slowly ran out of batteries that would provide artificial light.

As much as it would have come in handy, it would also feel extremely wrong if I were to ever have one of the lights in my hand. It felt like I was trying to be someone I wasn't.

Because as much as I wish I was born before the dead rose, I wasn't. It was a fact I had to accept a long time ago, I was born after the biters rose. I couldn't change that. No one could.

I was born in a time where you couldn't be weak, being weak got you killed. You had to be strong, and if you weren't strong, you had a death sentence hanging over your head.

All of those kids who tried to muffle their sobs at night as their body shook. Their parents who desperately tried to ignore their child being ripped apart after experiencing their first biter, or when they come back from the mainland.

They know they can't go and soothe their child, they don't want them to become soft.

But I called it bullshit.

Aiden cried for days after his first day of training, he was traumatized at the amount of blood that coated his skin from the dead body. He was nearly bitten, my dad not stepping in because as a child you have to learn that protecting yourself comes first, not the dead.

He refused to leave his bed as he sobbed, and I knew it tore my parents apart to listen to their youngest son work himself up into being sick.

I knew it was wrong to leave him alone, its why I made it a point to ignore my parents and go into his room where he had locked himself in and I just sat with him, letting him know that was okay. It was the moment that when Aiden's cries stopped and I walked out of the room with him, that my parents knew something was different about me.

I repeated the process with Amaya, who completely shut down after having to drive a knife through the new biters head. And I recently did the same thing with the twins who were inconsolable.

I didn't believe that I should just let these children suffer on their own, there was no reason for it. Everyone was trying to adjust to what was happening, and they were just kids. So, I helped the young kids and teenagers who struggled with coming to terms of this is how their life is going to be from now on. Constantly looking over their shoulders and never leaving without a weapon on their body.

I looked into the building, the sunlight only reaching so far before the darkness took over towards the back of the building. Easton picked up one of the flashlights as I kept walking, the bright light shining through the darkness creating a beacon.

We roamed through the bottom floor, the stairs were blocked off with palettes much like the opening had been.

There were pictures, something we didn't have much of on the island, scattered through the area. My fingers lightly touched the plastic bag that held a picture of my mom and dad smiling softly at the camera.

I opened the bag as Easton was rummaging through the food, packing his bag even fuller as I spread the photos apart in my hand. There was another of a baby and a young Mason, he wasn't even looking at the camera as he smiled at the curly haired baby. My heart was tight as I looked at the next, my mom was laying down on a table, her stomach swollen as my dad was by her side, a young Mason pushing against her stomach as they were off to the side, pulling the photo closer, I could see the glassy look in my dads' eyes.

My stomach was in knots as I looked at the last one, there were a bunch of people crammed into the photo, a lot of people I didn't know and even more that I did know. Mason was standing next to another young boy with blonde hair, my parents were smiling broadly, my dads' hand was resting on a slight bump on my mother's frame.

I rapidly blinked, pushing away the wetness in my eyes as I sealed the bag tight and put it in the zippered pouch of my bag, where it would be safe and flat.

I cleared my throat as I licked my lips, "Lets go Easton." He was struggling to zip his bag as he walked in front of me with the light in his mouth.

And so, we followed the road, leading us farther away from the ocean, and closer to the billowing trees. Away from our families and to our future.

I had never been as excited for a fresh start as I was now.