{"id":2128,"date":"2020-12-12T19:46:48","date_gmt":"2020-12-13T02:46:48","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/?p=2128"},"modified":"2020-12-19T19:12:33","modified_gmt":"2020-12-20T02:12:33","slug":"leaving-the-desert","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/2020\/12\/12\/leaving-the-desert\/","title":{"rendered":"Leaving the Desert"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

prompt: \u00a0Write a post-apocalyptic story triggered by climate change….<\/em><\/em>
available at Reedsy<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

The boy sighting down his rifle beside me was barely fifteen. “Do you think they have any?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Water? Not likely.” I was looking at the defensive lines ahead of us through a sniper scope. I might have felt better about the situation if I had the rifle to go with it. “Maybe some food, probably ammo, too.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“So why are we\u2026\u201d the boy began.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Hush, Jordan.” Satisfied that nothing was happening ahead I lowered the scope and met Jordan’s eyes. “Either we take them out, or they take us out. That simple.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Wouldn’t it be better to join up, work together?” The innocent naivety poured off him in waves. With a little meat on his bones, and a scrub-up, he’d be one of those boys described as cherubic. Instead, his cheeks hollow, blue eyes sunk, skin darkened by sun and grime, and curly blonde hair plastered on his head with sweat, he just looked like another victim of the water wars.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“How well did that work out for your folks?” As soon as I snapped it out I felt terrible. Jordan turned away, looking back down his rifle at the quiet defensive works.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“I’m sorry, Jordan. Fuck, I\u2026 shouldn’t have said that.” I turned my attention to the horizon to hide the tears pooling and threatening to fall.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“No, you’re right.” His voice was barely above a whisper. \u201cDo you really think we can make it to the big lake?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I stowed the scope in a pouch at my waist. \u201cIt\u2019s Great Lakes. Honestly? I don\u2019t know. But we\u2019ll have to go through their territory to do it. Let\u2019s get back to camp.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We eased back down the hill behind us until we were safe to stand. We were less than an hour out from our camp if we moved fast, but the late afternoon sun made steady, conservative movement safer. The air shimmered with heat, making the sparse, dry grasses seem to swim before our eyes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHow many gun placements did you see?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI counted four for sure,\u201d Jordan said, \u201cand maybe another one, but too far to see.\u201d Jordan had the energy-conserving, ground-eating walk of those raised in the desert plains of Kansas. It had taken me a couple years to pick it up. \u201cHow did I do?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt wasn\u2019t a test, but yeah, five.\u201d I patted the pouch with the scope. \u201cWe\u2019ll need to find another one of these, or maybe some binoculars if you\u2019re going to be scouting all the time.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWas there anything else you saw?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMarkers – little flags – in a row between the hills and the emplacements. Probably a mine field.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cShit.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cLanguage.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Jordan laughed. \u201cAs if you\u2019re one to talk.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m more than twice your age. And I\u2019m supposed to be teaching you how to be an adult.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat\u2019s no reason to be a hypocrite. Besides, you\u2019re not that old,\u201d he said, a crooked smile lighting up his eyes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDon\u2019t think that buttering me up gets you off the hook.\u201d I gave him a sidelong glance, his expression taking on the sweet, puppy-eyed look. \u201cOkay, okay. You\u2019re old enough to decide what you say and when. Just not around Marla, she\u2019ll tear me a new asshole.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He laughed. \u201cWhy are you together with her? You\u2019re way prettier than she is\u2026 and nicer too.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat\u2019s not\u2026\u201d I stopped myself before chiding him again. \u201cWe\u2019re together because we love each other. Nothing more, nothing less.\u201d There was more, but I didn\u2019t feel like talking about it. \u201cShe\u2019s not mean, she\u2019s just\u2026 focused \u2014 and sad.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cA lot of people in the camp are,\u201d he said. \u201cSad, that is. I don\u2019t get it. They say they wish it was like the \u2018old days\u2019 and then talk for hours about how dirty the sky was, and how their parents and grandparents kept breaking the world.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou were born to this, so you don\u2019t know anything else. They talk about the bad times, after<\/em> the good times, so we don\u2019t forget that all this,\u201d I gestured to the arid landscape around me, \u201cwas our fault.<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHow so?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe, humans that is, decided we liked having limitless energy on demand and cheap plastic crap more than we liked the planet. When the oceans started rising and fresh water started running out, instead of trying to fix things, we burned more fuel harvesting the ice in the Antarctic.\u201d I shrugged. \u201cEven before that<\/em> was all gone, we all started killing each other for whatever was left.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBut no one in the camp could be old enough to remember that far back.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cTrue, but our parents and grandparents were.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHuh.\u201d He seemed to ponder this for a while as we walked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGloria,\u201d he asked, \u201cwhy did you take me in? When my parents\u2026.\u201d He trailed off.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI think it was the sad, puppy-eyes you make.\u201d I laughed, but it wasn\u2019t real. It was the polite laughter that said \u2018now that I\u2019ve made a joke let\u2019s leave this alone.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

If I had to be honest with myself, his expression was part of it. Another part was knowing that if no one claimed him, a ten-year-old boy would have been left in the wilderness on his own. Like Marla, when I claimed her. We found her starving on her own in the wilderness, maybe ten or eleven, she wasn\u2019t sure. I was only fourteen myself, but I convinced my mother that I\u2019d take on the extra work to make sure she had food and shelter. When my mother died of the fever four years later, I\u2019d already managed to get my own tent and gear, and a herd of goats. Marla still wasn\u2019t ready to face the world, so she moved in with me, and mother\u2019s belongings were shared out among the camp. She\u2019s never talked about what she went through, but I let her know, often, that when she\u2019s ready to talk I\u2019m ready to listen.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat\u2019s not really it,\u201d I said, putting a hand on his shoulder. My sun-baked olive skin looked dark against his faded brown shirt. The copper ring Marla had made for me a few years ago was dull and left green marks on my skin, but I never took it off. \u201cIt was Marla. She wouldn\u2019t leave you behind.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cReally?\u201d He had a momentary look of surprise, but covered it up with his all-too-frequently-common adolescent swagger. \u201cI guess she can be nice. You know I would\u2019ve survived anyway.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI know,\u201d I lied. \u201cYou\u2019re tough like that.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBut, thanks \u2014 for saving my life.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was something I hadn\u2019t heard from him in at least two years. Not just the thanks, but the sincerity of tone. As much as I wanted to hug him close I knew he was \u2018too old\u2019 for that, and settled for giving his shoulder a little squeeze.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As we neared the camp the smell of meat roasting over flame tempted us in. Twilight was  just setting in and I pointed out Venus on the horizon.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cVenus,\u201d he said. \u201cGood luck, right?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI don\u2019t really believe in luck.\u201d I walked into our tent and shucked my gear, and Jordan did the same, taking care to put our packs and weapons in their proper places. \u201cThank you, Jordan. Should we eat first, or give our report?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cLet\u2019s give our report first. Then we can take our time with dinner.\u201d He looked as if he wanted to ask something, but didn\u2019t.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes, after dinner you can go make googly eyes at Karina.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI wasn\u2019t going to \u2014 I mean that\u2019s not\u2026,\u201d he sputtered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat\u2019s exactly what you\u2019ll do if you\u2019re smart,\u201d Marla said. She\u2019d snuck in so silently that neither of us heard her. She held something out to Jordan. \u201cI found you this. You know where the tools are.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She handed him a piece of heavy-gauge copper wire and pointed to the metal-working tools at the side of the tent. He looked at the wire in confusion. Her brown hair hung lank over her pale, freckled face, hiding one of her deep-green eyes. She wasn\u2019t out much during the day, instead taking guard duty most nights.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou said you wanted to learn how to make one of these,\u201d she said, pointing at the ring on my finger. \u201cYou might as well make one for Karina.\u201d Turning to me she said, \u201cCaptain\u2019s waiting for your report. You take care of that and I\u2019ll fix you some dinner.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou heard the lady. Let\u2019s go Jordan.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The \u201cCaptain\u201d, Howard Colm, pored over maps, comparing recent, hand-drawn maps to pre-fall maps, plotting possible courses to Lake Superior. He was our camp\u2019s de-facto leader by dint of having been a military officer in the tail-end of the water wars, and staying alive as long as he had. I\u2019m sure he was over seventy, but still limber, agile, and strong.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat can you add?\u201d He spun the map around so we were looking at it right-side up and pointed to the area we had just scouted.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

There was a history of our entire journey on the map, years of traveling, detours, and areas marked as too dangerous to pass. Not far to our east was Kansas City, circled in red with the words \u201cNew Nation Army\u201d written above. To the north, where we had just scouted, the map was blank, except for the penciled-in words \u201cArmy of the East\u201d with a large question mark.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I drew in the earthworks that formed their defilade position and added a line where the markers had been. \u201cI think this is a mine field, but there were no markings on the flags so I can\u2019t be sure.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Jordan added the five machine gun positions. \u201cThey don\u2019t seem like they\u2019re in a hurry to leave. You think they\u2019ll actually leave all that work behind and attack?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSon, if they\u2019ve got the same sort of water shortage we do, they might do anything, sane or not.\u201d With that, Howard sent us on our way.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGloria,\u201d he asked, \u201cdoes that mean we<\/em> might do anything, sane or not?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI hope not, Jordan.\u201d I put my arm around him and headed back toward our tent.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We were halfway there when he squirmed out from under my arm. Karina was bouncing up to meet us, her face pink, as if she\u2019d been scrubbing it with sand like we do the dishes. Her blonde hair was hidden under a cap, and her brown eyes reflected the light of the rising moon. \u201cJordan, can you come have dinner with us tonight?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He looked at me and I nodded. \u201cHave fun,\u201d was all I got out before the two of them bolted for her father\u2019s tent. Marla was watching, and shook her head with a little smile.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

With the current lack of water for anything other than drinking, dinner consisted of rabbit jerky and dried roots that had been pounded out into a dry not-quite-paste and warmed over the coals. Not gourmet, but filling at least. The wind shifted and the smell of cooking meat blew into the tent, making our stomachs grumble.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe goat will be ready in another couple hours,\u201d Marla said. \u201cAnita and Carla took over from Sten. There\u2019s enough for everyone to have at least a little.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat was our last, wasn\u2019t it?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Marla didn\u2019t answer right away, but the look in her eyes told me I was right. \u201cNo water, couldn\u2019t keep her alive.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I moved next to her and pulled her close. \u201cShhh. We\u2019ll make it through.\u201d I don\u2019t know if she believed me or not, but she curled up next to me and laid her head on my lap. We fell asleep on the ground there, never making it to the pile of blankets we called a bed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When morning broke there was a slab of goat meat on a plate in the tent. Too large, if Anita and Carla were sharing it out fairly. Or then, maybe not, since it was the last, and we\u2019d been the ones that provided the herd for the camp in the first place. At some point in the night Jordan had returned and put a blanket over us. He was still snoring away in his own pile of blankets.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The usual sounds of morning, dry coughs, moans, cooking fires being lit, drifted in. Marla had moved up during the night, her head on my chest. I brushed the hair out of her face, expecting to wake her, but she chuckled. \u201cI\u2019ve been awake for a while, just enjoying this.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m enjoying it too.\u201d I kissed the top of her head and started to rise.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She stopped me. \u201cWait. Can we go somewhere private, and talk?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOf course. Right now?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo, let\u2019s make sure Jordan has something to keep himself occupied, then we can go.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Karina\u2019s voice came from outside the tent. \u201cAre you decent?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSure, Karina, come in.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGood morning!\u201d She stepped into the tent and stopped short. \u201cOh, sorry, I didn\u2019t know Jordie was still asleep.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m not, now. Good morning, Kar.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Marla nudged me and whispered, \u201cpet names.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWell, it\u2019s a good thing you\u2019re up. If it\u2019s okay with you,\u201d she looked at Marla and me, \u201cthe Captain wants Jordie to go with me, my dad and couple others on another scout.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYeah, I can do that,\u201d he said. \u201cUm, can I do that, Gloria?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhy don\u2019t you ever ask me?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSorry, Marla, um, can I go on the scout?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Marla snorted. \u201cYou know I\u2019m just giving you a hard time. Can he, Gloria?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSure. You make sure to do what Jerry tells you. And stay safe.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI will.\u201d He threw back his blanket and pulled on his dusty trousers and boots, faded brown shirt, and pack. Grabbing his rifle, he checked the magazine, then looked in the lockbox by his bed for more ammo. \u201cShit,\u201d he muttered, \u201cI\u2019m running low.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cLanguage!\u201d Marla glared at me. \u201cAre you letting him say things like that?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo, she\u2019s not! Sorry Marla, sorry Gloria. I won\u2019t do it again.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I don\u2019t know why he covered for me, but that was one less hurdle to jump before Marla would be willing to talk. Once he headed out to patrol in the north Marla and I went south to walk around the desert a bit.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We were far enough to just see the camp, where we could talk freely. Marla sat on the ground and I did the same. \u201cGloria, I\u2026 I want to tell you what happened to me, but I can\u2019t. I don\u2019t remember most of it \u2014 I mean, it\u2019s there, in the back of my mind, and I see flashes in my nightmares, but\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t have to tell me anything you don\u2019t want to, or can\u2019t. You know that I\u2019ll love you no matter what.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m afraid. I\u2019m afraid you\u2019ll forget me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe goats\u2026. I don\u2019t think it\u2019ll be long for the rest of us.\u201d She grabbed my hand to keep me from interrupting. \u201cThere\u2019s no way we\u2019ll reach the Great Lakes. Dying is the only way anyone leaves the desert. If \u2014 if I die first, I don\u2019t want you to forget me. But I want you to find someone else. Maybe Jerry, or Anita; they\u2019re both lonely.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhy don\u2019t you matchmake Anita and Jerry?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThey hate each other\u2019s guts.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAnd what about you? I could die on a scouting mission, what would you do then?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI wouldn\u2019t forget you. I\u2019d take care of Jordan until he\u2019s on his own, then I\u2019ll go back out to the wilderness.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWell, that settles it then.\u201d I snuggled up next to her. \u201cWe\u2019re just both going to have to keep on living and grow old together. So old, we\u2019ll make Howard look like a child.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Marla smiled, but it did little to dispel the constant sadness behind her eyes. We sat there a while longer, until it became too hot to stay. The walk back to camp was quiet, somber. I wished there was a way to ease her pain, but without knowing the root, all I could do was to be there for her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We spent the day around the camp; Marla making another ring from the copper she found, while I cleaned my pistol and mended Jordan\u2019s other pair of trousers. It was nearly nightfall when Karina returned running full tilt, tears streaking her face. She barreled straight into Howard\u2019s tent. Curious members of the camp, ourselves included started to move closer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Howard stepped out of his tent, waved us over, and called for Anita, the camp medic. \u201cIt\u2019s Jordan, and it\u2019s bad.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHow bad?\u201d Marla asked. I couldn\u2019t ask, couldn\u2019t speak.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Howard wasted no words. \u201cGut shot. We won\u2019t know how bad until they get him here. They\u2019re carrying him in.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The world dropped out from under me and I collapsed. Marla squatted down, holding me from the back, shielding me from the world. I could barely make out the sounds of Anita getting a table ready for when he came in.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When Jerry and the others carried Jordan in, hours or maybe only minutes later, they laid him on the table and collapsed. Anita looked him over and sat down with me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThere\u2019s nothing we can do. His stomach is punctured. He\u2019ll die, it\u2019s just a question of how,\u201d Anita said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat does that mean?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cEither a slow, painful death from sepsis, or\u2026\u201d she held up a bottle and syringe.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s that?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOverdose of morphine. He\u2019ll go to sleep. Painless and quick.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I nodded and she filled the syringe. I approached him on the table.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGloria, mom, I\u2019m scared.\u201d He\u2019d never called me that, and my heart shattered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt\u2019ll be okay. She\u2019s going to put you to sleep and you\u2019ll wake up all fixed up.\u201d The tears fell down my face as I tried to keep my voice positive.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He looked at the needle. \u201cTruth?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I nodded and tried my best to smile as Anita pushed down the plunger.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Jordan grabbed my hand. \u201cSee you later, mom.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

prompt: \u00a0Write a post-apocalyptic story triggered by climate change….available at Reedsy The boy sighting down his rifle beside me was barely fifteen. “Do you think they have any?\u201d “Water? Not likely.” I was looking at …<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[208],"tags":[213,210,228,209],"class_list":["post-2128","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-trunk-stories","tag-federation","tag-fiction","tag-science-fiction","tag-short-story"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/pxT7i-yk","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2128","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2128"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2128\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2129,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2128\/revisions\/2129"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2128"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2128"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2128"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}