Текст книги "The Wounded"

Автор книги: Lauren Nicolle Taylor

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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

“I wish he’d tried harder, found a way to see me, at least let me know he was alive,” I said, staring up at the reflective, black ceiling.

“I’m sure he regrets it.” Joseph sounded unsure. “But maybe there was no way to protect his secret and see you.” I folded the thoughts because they were useless to me now. There was always a way. Sometimes it was harder but if you wanted it enough, you just found the answer. If he had given up being a Spider he could have seen me, saved me from Paulo.

I leaned my head on Joseph’s shoulder and remembered the good. “I guess it doesn’t really matter now, does it? Tell me what he was like as a teacher.”

“Passionate, animated, unpredictable… like his daughter,” Joseph said, and I heard his lips pull over his teeth into a smile.

Like me. Could I take that as comfort? I took the similarities between us and used them as a flimsy string bridge. I just hoped it was strong enough to broach the gap between our past and where we were now.

Joseph told me stories of Pelo’s classroom antics, his genuine affection for my father rubbing off on me a little.

“I remember once we were learning about aviation. Rather than just stand in front of us talking, he had us construct paper planes. We had a competition to see which ones could fly the furthest and hit a target.” Joseph bowed his head and laughed. “You know what the target was, Rosa?”

“What?”

“The principal’s open window. I heard when she walked in and found her office full of paper planes he was suspended. But somehow he argued that the knowledge we gained outweighed the mess.” Yep, that sounded like me. In Joseph’s eyes, that was a good thing. In my mind, I wasn’t so sure. Joseph was lucky to have him as a teacher. I missed a lot.

“I’m pretty sure he just charmed his way out of that one, though…” Joseph muttered. Well in that sense, we were nothing alike. I couldn’t charm one of those monkeys out of a tree if I were made of bananas.

When we reached our hovel, Orry was still asleep. I put thoughts of my father aside. The relationship would either grow or wither, one way or another. I just had to resolve to see through the red when I looked at him, to see the flawed man who had made some mistakes but was trying. We had precious little time with our son now. I needed to lap up every image of him, his breath, his half-closed eyes, and the noises he made when he was sleeping, burying them in my heart until they were pressing painfully out of the chambers.

The monkeys drummed the cave wall, the floor, whatever they could find. They shrieked in excitement as Salim threw food and talked to them like they were people. I hung back, half-hiding behind a pillar, watching from a considerable distance. Joseph and Orry liked watching feeding time and exercise time, fascinated by the animals’ behavior. I just thought they were smelly creatures that were slightly more intelligent than rats.

When feeding time was over, Salim caught my eye from the back of the crowd and motioned towards me. “Coders, please, please, I have a gift for your journey.”

I moved slowly, suspiciously, towards him, the seas of monkeys parting as they grabbed their food and searched for a quiet corner to eat without another one stealing it from them. I got to him, Joseph and Orry behind me, and looked up at his dark, freckled face, noticing a black smear on his usually pristine coat. “Shouldn’t you be talking to Gus? He’s the one coordinating the mission.”

“Oh, in due course, young coder, in due course,” he muttered, almost to himself. “Now,” he hopped up and down, “follow me.”

We left Orry with Pietre and Careen, and followed the hopping, skipping former Superior out of the train station.

The world outside was crunchier. The frosted leaves underfoot no longer squelched and caught your foot, they snapped. Salim strode in front of us staring straight ahead with purpose. Joseph grabbed my hand and pulled me along the wide street that bordered the train station. Blasted-out shop windows shone in the filtered sunlight like sharp, angry fangs. I heard a can skittle and twisted my head back. My heartbeat picked up. Salim didn’t react. Joseph scanned the area carefully, but then shrugged and continued to move.

“I’ve been working on something,” Salim shouted back to us as we struggled to keep up, his tall frame expertly picking its way through the debris and shattered glass.

We turned the corner and entered an alley between two tall buildings, dark shadows hung heavily over the overturned trolleys and rubbish cans.

“Where are we going?” I asked, hugging myself against the sudden chill.

“Sh! It’s a gift, a surprise,” Salim said, holding his hand closed over his head like he was grabbing the words from the air.

“Yeah, shh!” Joseph chuckled, elbowing me in the ribs. I laughed loudly, and it was like a thousand netted butterflies escaped my chest and soared into the sky. We were laughing, running, focusing on something fun and exciting. It was such a welcome distraction.

We came out of the alley, and the sun hit me in the eyes like a torch. I lifted my hand to shield them, stepping forward, but my legs were tangled in something and I fell forward. Joseph caught me before my face hit the pavement in a cloud of dirt and dust.

He jerked me up by the elbow and knelt down to untangle my feet from the rope, and rainbow-colored triangles that were attached to them. We both looked at the brightly colored flags in puzzlement and followed the length of it, which lifted from the ground to a low-lying fence. They decorated several fenced-off yards. Colorful signs hung high overhead, pictures of families grinning next to vans and cars. In their pristine, pressed clothes, smiles stretched unnaturally, they were a funny contrast to the peeling edges and faded backgrounds.

“Here we are!” Salim exclaimed suddenly, pushing through a metal gate. He stormed through, instantly swallowed by a garden of rusty cars that looked more like boxes on wheels. I instantly loved them. They looked strong, sturdy, painted in dark colors of green and black. Shiny bars hung across their fronts like big, metal smiles. I searched for the dark Superior and caught a flash of white as he disappeared into the belly of one the giant machines.

Joseph hung back, gawking at all the machinery. I followed Salim and jumped in, the plush seats enveloping me as I slid in next to him.

“Is this the surprise?” I asked, bouncing up and down like a child. He nodded his large, bun-dotted head. He leaned over me and put his hand to the left of the steering wheel, and the whole thing shuddered to life like a bear grumbling out of hibernation. I gasped, grinned, and asked if I could drive.

The door creaked open, and Joseph climbed into the back seat with a thump. He looked apprehensive as Salim showed me the various controls and pedals.

“I managed to find fuel in one of the underground car parks, untouched, already in tanks.” He gestured to the cargo hold of the car where, tightly packed together, were twelve red canisters emitting a strong smell. “I worked out how to start it. The only problem is that I don’t know how to exit the grounds.”

I smirked, pushing down on the accelerator pedal, feeling the engine rev and whir in front of me, just begging to be free. In front of us was a meter-high cyclone wire fence. I eyed the bar protecting the front of the machine, a shine glinting through the rust speckles. He must have guessed because Joseph’s arm was already wrapping tightly around the headrest in front of him, bracing himself.

“Hold on,” I muttered as I released the brake and pushed down hard on the pedal. We sped into the fence. It strained for a second, and it felt like we’d be snapped back towards the other cars like we’d been caught by a rubber band. But the wheels squealed, the car struggled, and soon it was ripping the post from the ground. The fence dragged up the hood and over the front window. I gritted my teeth and kept pushing forward until it lay on the ground behind us, and the car was idling in the street.

Salim clapped his hands delighted. “Excellent, excellent, I would never had thought to do that.”

Joseph sat in the back, slightly pale, but smiling. “Yeah, she’s always a surprise.”

I put the car into neutral as Salim showed me and relaxed. It was so much fun that my lips stayed set and raised at the corners. The Superior jumped out and said he was going to move the other cars out that he had fixed. “Acquaint yourselves with your new transportation,” he said as he got out and made his way back into the yard through my newly made entrance.

Joseph grabbed me and dragged me into the backseat. I lay across his lap. His warm lips grazed the top of my ear, and I shivered.

“My turn,” he whispered as he unceremoniously dumped me from his lap and clambered into the front seat. He slid the seat back to accommodate his longer legs and nearly crushed my knees in the process. I pulled myself into the seat next to him and attempted to instruct him how to drive.

*****

I was laughing so hard my eyes stung, as Joseph again crunched the gear into place and tried to ease the car forward, only to have the car shudder jerkily and silence like an old man out of breath.

“What’s so funny?” he grumbled, frustrated, as he jammed the gear into place and starting the car for the tenth time.

“Oh nothing,” I said, holding my stomach. “It’s just I’ve never seen you struggle with anything. I can’t believe how hard this is for you, Dr. Sulle.” I giggled.

He grimaced, determination running all over his face, as he dropped it into gear, floored the accelerator, and then hit the brakes in panic with a squeal.

I covered my mouth, trying to keep the laugh in, only to have it explode out my nose. “It’s not funny,” he said, but he was smiling. He swiped his forehead and turned to look at me. “I’m man enough to admit when I can’t do something. How about I navigate, and you drive when we leave?”

“Well, I think that’s best if we don’t want to end up embedded in a wall.” I smiled. Joseph elbowed me gently and chuckled, his head pressed back into the headrest, his eyes on the ceiling.

“So I guess we’re really going to do this,” he said without moving.

“Can you see any other way?” I asked, a hint of desperation creeping into my voice because I was hoping he just might have an answer I hadn’t thought of.

He shook his head. “No, I can’t. I won’t go without you. You won’t go without me. No one else will volunteer. These are crap choices, but I think we have to go.”

I knew that. I slapped the top of his head. I was unwilling to let go of this light feeling. “C’mon, let’s try again and this time, concentrate!”

Because soon enough, we would be weighed down to the point of breaking. We were the wounded, the ones who survived. We owed it to the ones left behind, the ones suffering right now, and the ones yet to suffer though it was surely on its way. If we didn’t do something now, Orry and the rest of our family would always be in the menacing path. I didn’t want to cower and cover my face, as it crushed us under its boot. I wanted to be standing atop the wall, watching as they ran away.

We spent the afternoon driving back and forth down the road, and eventually back to the train station where we would load up our supplies and leave. Some to the Woodlands, most to the different hiding places the Survivors had set up over the years. All of us scattered across the Siberian planes like seedpods taken up in the wind.

I don’t know how to do this. How do we say goodbye to you when it feels like we only just got you back? But I do know you’ll be safe. And I’ll keep your father safe for you. I promise.

The plant, watch, and wait plan was born from my idea. Two people per compound, so as to create as little disturbance as possible—one Spider and one Survivor per team. My father would go to Pau with Matthew. Rash would go with Gus to Bagassa. I had to laugh at the idea of the two of them traveling together. Rash would be lucky to survive the trip.

The cars were brought to the entrance, and each team tried them out. Joseph was by far the worst driver. It didn’t seem to matter what he tried. He was awful at it, which frustrated him to no end and amused me endlessly.

Joseph flopped his head down on the steering wheel, his hair falling through its gaps. He turned his head so that all I could see was one emerald eye, splinters of gold sparkling in the afternoon sun. This was it. It felt like the last of something rather than the beginning. He held out his hand and slapped my thigh. “We should go,” he said abruptly, peeling himself off the seat and heading back inside. I followed.

Tonight would be our last night in the train station before everyone split away and headed to the different hideouts and shelters. Each one could only hold around a few hundred people. Some of the Monkey City dwellers chose to stay. But most had formed friendships, even relationships, with the Survivors over the last six months, and they wanted to leave with us.

We walked into the train station, the monkeys oddly quiet, just tracking us with their filmy, yellow eyes and picking at each other’s fur. I swallowed as I passed under a group of them. I would be glad to be rid of the shrieking, interrupting little monsters.

Joseph held out his hand, and I took it. “So are you sure you’re happy with Pietre taking Orry?” I asked.

He frowned and stared at the ground. “I’m not happy with any of this, but what choice do we have?” I closed my mouth. He was right. There were no choices we were happy to make. Right now, we had to grab at the only ones available to us.

We stepped carefully into the giant opening of the tunnel, immediately noticing the hum and gloomy glow of thousands of people saying goodbye and preparing for a journey.

*****

We jumped down several levels to where Rash and my father were staying, our feet skimming over slimy, black rocks. The fire burned high, and people were knocking cans of drinks together and talking excitedly about their plans. When Joseph and I walked into the light, everyone stared. The couple who would dare to break into the Superiors’ compound was quite a curiosity. Some clapped, others warned, and some congratulated. Someone offered me a can. I took one sip and screwed up my nose. It tasted like dishwater with a burn behind it. I handed it to Joseph, and he swigged it whole-heartedly, his eyes lit up as he swallowed.

We sat together with some strangers and the rest of our group. Odval brought Orry to us. He played with Hessa by our feet as we talked about what was going to happen. Fear was in the air, searing the rocks with electricity. Yet hope-tinged clouds clung to the spiky underbelly of this cave as well. The Survivors had been sitting around, tending their wounds, for too long. Energy surged through the space now that there was an aim. The wounds were our power, pushing us forward, up, over, and inside the walls to crack them open.

Someone tried to hand Joseph another can, but he declined. He shook his head lightly as if to clear it. “You ok?” I whispered as we nursed plates on our knees, enjoying the last taste of fresh meat before we were back to dehydrated jerky.

He ran his fingers over my knuckles gently. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just don’t like how that stuff makes me feel. A bit cloudy in the head, like I’m forgetting things,” he said, tapping his temple.

I leaned into him and tried to prepare. Orry wasn’t going to understand any of this.

Pietre sat opposite us, his eyes orange from the flame. He watched Orry carefully, like he was studying him. When Orry toddled over to him and tripped on a stone, Pietre’s arms shot out to steady the wobbly toddler. Orry smiled at him warily, clapping his palms over both of Pietre’s knees to stabilize himself. Pietre’s teeth showed in what I assume was a grin, but to me looked more like a grimace. Orry laughed. Careen snuggled next to Pietre and held out her hand for Orry to take. My heart felt stabbed clean through. They looked like a family. They might be if Joseph and I didn’t return. I wished we didn’t have to go, but no one else would volunteer who didn’t already have responsibilities elsewhere. It was like a devil was pushing me in the back, and an angel was ushering me forward. There was no other direction to go.

I approached them. Orry saw and ran towards me anxiously, collapsing in my arms with a gurgle. I nuzzled my face in his hair and breathed. I was collecting all these little moments. Storing them. They would be what I would hold onto later. Anchors.

“Can you do one thing for me?” I asked quietly.

Pietre nodded.

Careen smiled widely. “Anything.”

“Take him somewhere up,” I pointed to the ceiling, “on land. No more hiding underground.”

“Of course,” Pietre said soberly. “I know where we can go.” He reached towards my chest. I stiffened, red scurrying around my face, as he pulled my handheld out of my breast pocket and began typing in the coordinates. “When you’re done saving the world, you find us,” he said, without looking up, as he linked our handhelds. We would always know where the other was.

He placed it in my palm and returned his gaze to the fire. “We’re linked now,” he said softly.

Rash was scratching the earth up like a chicken. Essie watched him, her eyes round, her face warm and pink. Her adoration was so clear on her face. He’d obviously had plenty of those drinks. His speech was slurred, and he threw his arms around like he’d been shocked with a stunner. Essie just laughed at his antics. I rolled my eyes and left him to it. We didn’t need to say goodbye just yet.

Alexei sat back from the others; his legs crossed one over the other, his eyes blankly staring into the fire. I put my hand on his shoulder, and he started. “Rosa! I didn’t see you there. I… I was just thinking…”

“About Apella?”

“Well yes, I’m always thinking about her. But actually, I was pondering about the effects of the beer on your friend Rash. I know alcohol can relax people, ease them in to social situations, but I think in your friend’s case, it was, perhaps, superfluous.” He smiled up at me awkwardly. I kneeled down and threw my arms around him, pulling him close.

“Look after Hessa and Orry for me. Keep them together,” I whispered. “You’re the one I trust most of all.” I thought ‘finally’ and ‘too late.’ Tears pulled at the corner of my eyes but I kept hold of him, letting him breathe in and out with someone embracing him and reminding him that he was loved.

He patted my back lightly, and I released him. He sniffed and straightened his glasses. “Thank you, dear.”

*****

It was late. Orry was asleep in Joseph’s arms, his head tilted back, his lips parted like he was about to speak. Rash had passed out in Essie’s lap and was snoring loudly. Essie asked us very politely to help get him back to his room. Joseph handed Orry to me and grumbled as he threw an unresponsive Rash over his shoulder. I slumped over my sleeping baby and caught a hold of another moment to store for later.

“You were always so beautiful when you were sleeping,” Pelo said behind me. “All that energy, that pent-up frustration, disappeared from you face, and you became what I always knew you were—an angel.”

I didn’t look up at him, just continued to stare at my own angel in my arms. “And now what am I?” I asked

Pelo moved in next to me, his thin legs clad in mission-ready cargos and the classic Survivor sneakers. “Now, my darling girl… now you are a savior.”

My breath caught in my chest. I was not as big as that. That word was huge. Savior.

Joseph’s hand clapped around my shoulder and planted me firmly back on the ground. “C’mon, Supergirl.” I raised an eyebrow at him questioningly. “We need to get this one to bed.”

“What’s a supergirl?”

He chuckled at my ignorance. “I really need to show you some of the reading material available to us.”

I kissed Pelo lightly on the cheek, and stood, handing Orry back to Joseph so he could carry him back to the top of this dark amphitheater. As we climbed, my father’s thin frame sunk behind the smoke of the dying fire. He was smiling, his hands clasped in front of him, looking to the sky through meters of rock.

*****

Joseph laid Orry gently down in our bed and tucked him in tightly. I reached down to smooth his hair from his face.

“Once there was a way to get back homeward…” I sung the Beatles song Addy had taught me quietly, like a rough whisper. “Once there was a way to get back home. Sleep pretty darling, do not cry,” my hand shook a little, “and I will sing a lullaby.” Joseph’s arms curled around my shoulder. “Golden slumbers fill your eyes. Smiles await you when you rise. Sleep pretty darling, do not cry, and I will sing a lullaby.” I wiped the tear before it even had a chance to creep out of the corner of my eye.

We both stared down at him as the candle flickered, casting our wobbly shadows on the inky walls. Any minute now, he’d disappear like a puff of smoke.

This was too hard.

Joseph mirrored my thoughts, standing back and running both hands through his hair, and keeping them clasped behind his neck. He turned to me, and his eyes were half-dark, half-desire.

Sadness pulled you in different directions. Love pulled you straight into another. For me, desire was pulling all those strands together and tying them in a knot, holding me together. Even if it was temporary.

But everything felt like a last…

Joseph pulling me along a tunnel, his hand clutching mine so tight my bones were mashing together.

The atmosphere opening up like a hole-ridden blanket had been tossed across the sky, pricks of light drilling holes into the ground as we ran into the trees.

The slip of fabric running over my arms and losing its hold on me, slow as it danced to ground, crisscrossing shadows sitting on top of it like a weight.

The cold as the air hit my skin.

The warm as his skin met mine.

The feeling of being lifted, wet leaves pressing into my back as I reached up to meet him.

We were together.

Everything was cold until every part of me was warm and shaking. Winter being pulled back, with the retreating mist at our bare feet.

We woke drowsy. Sleep didn’t find us until early morning, and it still clung to the sides of my eyes like the sheet that was glued to my damp face. Joseph’s lips met mine and the sun rose in my chest. But then Orry kicked me in the back.

“Mama,” he said, impatiently pulling my hair.

Lasts.

I tried unsuccessfully to push down the grief that scraped its way up through my body. Joseph’s hand clamped around my stick-like arm, and I could feel the unhappiness running like a current from him to me and back again.

“Right, breakfast,” I said, going about the normal things.

A tail curled and snapped under the heavy blanket strung up in the entrance to our hovel. “Munk ee,” Orry shouted excitedly, like he had the hiccups.

“Clever boy,” Joseph said, swinging him into his arms for a hug. Our eyes connected. We both looked like we’d choke if we tried to speak, so we averted our gaze from each other.

We fed Orry his breakfast, and I was reminded why we were doing this. Somewhere, another child was eating something that may have only contained the tiniest traces of fava beans, and that child would probably die. I closed my eyes but my eyelids flashed with visions of Orry seizing, and I clutched my chest, reminding my heart to beat.

I could see Matthew’s pacing feet brushing the sides of the curtain. The standard white sneakers draped to the ankles with rough cargo pants.

“You can come in, Matthew,” I said.

He seemed flustered, but then we were all a bit unnerved. “We need to leave soon. Everyone is ready to go.”

“Okay.” I waved him off.

I looked to Joseph. “Do we say something to Orry?” I asked, unsure.

He shrugged but held Orry so they were facing each other. “Your parents are going away for a while. Pietre, Careen, and Alexei will look after you while we’re gone. And you’ll have Hessa to play with.” Joseph swiped his hand across his eyes. “Damn it.”

I kneeled down and looked into Orry’s eyes, my eyes. So strange, but so beautiful framed by his blond curls and sloping nose. “I love you,” I said. “Don’t miss me.” I pushed my finger lightly into his belly, and he giggled. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

Orry leaned in and planted a sloppy kiss on my eyebrow. I felt like the ground might swallow me, like the whole earth was angry with me and might trap me beneath the real world forever.

I looked up at the ceiling, fighting with myself. Don’t let this be the last time I see my son.

I lifted him to my hip. Joseph carried our small backpacks over one shoulder. We were quiet as we fell into line with the others. Thousands of people poured like lava, up into the light, away from this place. Into a fight.

*****

I hugged and kissed him a thousand times, as he sat clinging to Careen’s waist like a bear in a tree.

“Promise me you’ll keep him safe,” I said, gripping her shoulders kind of desperately.

She grimaced from the pressure my fingers were putting on her collarbone, but tipped her delicate chin. “Listen to me, I will keep him safe. I promise. Just promise you’ll do the same.” She flicked her hair and blinked. “You know, for yourself that is. Keep yourself safe.”

I laughed nervously. “Okay.”

There were eighteen of us leaving in cars. Some I knew, some I didn’t, but as we climbed into the four cars, we held the possibility of a different future for everyone. This could change everything.

I jumped into the driver’s seat and Rash, Gus, and Pelo slid into the backseat, throwing their packs and equipment over the top of the sloshing fuel cans in the boot. I wound down the window and shut the door, feeling my heart and my body tearing open like flimsy fabric. I was nothing but a tattered scrap in the wind. I don’t know how to leave him.

Joseph’s hand slid over mine as it paused on the handbrake. He clicked it in and eased it down. He lifted my hand to the gear stick, keeping it steady as I changed gears.

I let the tears fall freely, my mouth set hard. My eyes on the road ahead. The car shuddered to life, and we rolled forward.

“Well, that was intense,” Rash exclaimed, while I glared at his flash-white grin and inappropriate expression in the rearview mirror.

“Shut up, Rash!” Pelo snapped uncharacteristically.

Gus grunted.

Joseph brought his handheld to his face, ignoring the men in the backseat. “Turn left here,” he said. I slammed on the brakes and turned the corner hard, watching the men’s shoulders bash in to each other like toppling tenpins, shutting them all up.

My lap handheld glowed in my lap like my own heart-aching sun, splitting and guiding me at the same time. Its screen showed a different destination. A blinking red light we were getting further and further away from. Orry.

We were to follow the M53, an old highway used back when there were cars everywhere, hugging bumper to bumper, and polluting the earth. I shook my head sharply at the old Class words remerging in my head like a poisoned lecture.

Rash played with one of the retrieved projection discs from the Woodlands and banged the side of his head on the window like a child. “I miss Essie,” he moaned.

“We’ve only been driving for ten minutes! Get over yourself, Rash!” I snapped, darting around a bicycle planted right in the middle of the road.

He fluttered his lips like a horse and stared out the window. I should have been nicer, but there was little left in me other than to drive and try not to turn around and return to my son. This was hard on Rash too. I swallowed some of my anger and tried to replace it with understanding. It bobbed in my throat like an anchored cork, not quite ready to surface.

*****

The cars were supposed to be quicker than walking, but I wasn’t so sure. Every few kilometers, we had to stop and remove an obstacle or several. I began to get frustrated at our pace and drove over the top of a disintegrating pram. It got caught under the wheels, which meant more time wasted. We needed to drive about six hundred kilometers northwest before we would abandon the cars and trek into the wilderness towards the Woodlands. It should have been a day’s drive, but it had already taken us two hours simply to pass the city limits.

Joseph had all his notes from Salim about the Superiors’ compound sitting in his lap, studying them intensely. No one wanted to talk. There was nothing to do but drive, stop, move obstacle, drive, stop, move obstacle. Each kilometer we gained was like a bead on a guilty thread. The longer it got, the worse we felt.

We finally moved past the city and onto the M53.

I stopped dead, four cars idling behind me. A long horn beep sounded out, bouncing and dashing over the cracked bitumen. But I wasn’t sure where to go.

In front of us was a horror in standstill. Cars spilled over the edges of what was left of the road. Doors were left open, hanging off rusty hinges, falling slowly down to the ground. I looked to my left and saw one machine crouching in the high grass, far away from the others, but not far enough to escape the destruction.

Everything was touched and owned by the fire. Burned out and charcoaled. I gripped the steering wheel and inched forward, following the double yellow line in the center of the road. The road ran like a grey ribbon on the earth, but it was dirty and frayed, cut in at all angles because we were driving through thousands of peoples’ last desperate moments.

The car crept forward. Sometimes I had to move off the road and over to the grass, the stalks grazing the underbelly of the metal beast, making papery noises. I know it was hundreds of years ago, but I swear I could smell the smoke and almost hear the voices. Joseph’s eyes were scraping the horizon instead of looking at papers now. Everyone was pensively staring out their windows as we wound in and out of different families’ horror stories.

After about fifty kilometers, the burnt-out cars started to fall away. There was more space to wind through. A lot of them, very suddenly, seemed to have veered to the left and right like an invisible obstacle stood right in the center, leaving the road itself clear. I shuddered as I pictured the people scattering as planes dropped bombs on them like giant black balloons, their only promise… an end.