We Survivors [Published Version]

1: Tomorrow | Nadia

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow I'll finally meet Jake.

The thought made my stomach twist and my heart pump faster. I laid my pen between the pages of my journal and leaned into the rough bark of my maple tree, too anxious to write. A thousand thoughts ran through my mind. What if we didn't get along? What if he hadn't told me the truth about who he was? What if something happened to him before we could meet?

Worst of all, what if my mind, lonely from the months of isolation and exhausted from constantly surviving on my own, had created Jake? What if tomorrow I found out that not only was I incredibly, truly alone, but that I'd gone insane too?

Moths fluttered toward the light of my camp lantern, casting shadows. My gaze was pulled out into the woods by a half dozen fireflies floating amidst the trees and my mind wandered back to that first night I heard Jake on the radio.

I still think it was the best day of my life. It saved my life, too. I'd followed my usual nighttime routine, flicking on my old HAM radio with the ever-shrinking spark of hope that there'd be someone on the other end. Then I'd gone to brush my teeth and stash my food in a tree. As I came back to my tent, I heard something—something more than the usual static—coming from my radio.

"If anyone is out there, please respond. It has been one hundred twelve days since the last person I knew died." A male voice. He spoke without emotion, as if reading from a script.

I fumbled with the zipper on my tent and scrambled inside, grabbing my radio's microphone.

"If anyone is out there, please respond," he repeated.

I paused for a moment, hands shaking and mind reeling with disbelief at my ended solitude. Then I pushed the button on the mic and spoke.

"I'm here," I said. "I'm... responding."

I'd had four months to think of something to say—four months of daydreaming someone else might be out there—and that was all I'd managed to come up with?

"Is someone really there?" A pause and a crackle of noise from the radio, then a beep as he released the mic.

"Yes, um. I'm here." I said, smacking my forehead. "My name is Nadia."

"Oh—hey, Nadia. This is Jake."

Over time, we developed such a keen ability to finish each other's thoughts and fill in any blanks that I smiled as I remembered the awkwardness of our first conversation.

I learned so many things about Jake. I knew he was dark-haired and, like me, would have been a high school senior. He used to enjoy movies and soccer, though now, he joked, he's all about fishing and backpacking. I even knew that, before the virus, he had a mother, father, and older brother. He didn't know about my family; I wasn't ready to face using past tense when I described them yet.

A few days ago, I agreed to meet. I couldn't bear the loneliness any longer, even if it turned out I'd imagined him. I'd been cautious before that. I didn't reveal my location, only telling him enough to make sure our radios stayed within range of each other. Tomorrow we'd both reach the rendezvous point.

I'd spent over a month talking to him before going to sleep every night, worrying he'd be gone the next day. Sighing with relief every time he picked up on the other end. I knew what his life had been like for the past thirty-four days. I knew so much about Jake, but at the same time, I didn't know him.

But that's all going to change, Ithought as I traced over the word with my pen: Tomorrow.