Finding Eden (6 page)

“Elle.” She spoke as if she was talking to a child.

“So, Blondie, what do you think this Eden will look like?” I ignored her and plastered my face with a toothy grin.

“You mean you
don’t
know?” She emphasized
don’t
a little too much.

“Just answer my question,” I finished off the last chip.

“I just imagine it in the biblical sense,” she shrugged. “Earth, natural, lots and lots of trees. Maybe a devious snake.”

“I hope you’re right sans the snake.” I sighed and ran my hand over my hair, feeling sweat build up in my palm.

“You do that a lot.” She pointed out.

“Do what?”

“Run your hand over your head. Is it a nervous tick or something?”

“More like an anxiety tick.”

“Is there such a thing?” She narrowed her eyes. Was she being playful?

“There is now. I suppose if there was ever a time to create words and phrases it would be now.”

She laughed and so did I. It felt good, like some sort of weight was lifted off my chest—almost freeing. We continued to walk for quite some time in silence until it was broken by her.

“Hey, Tex?” I watched her comb her fingers through her hair. It looked white under the moonlight. She separated it in three even parts and began to braid it, starting at the crown of her head and ending at her waist. She fastened it with a loose elastic hair tie that looked like it had been stretched too many times. It was a French braid. I knew that because my wife used to do that with our little girl’s hair.

“Hmm?”

“Do you know what day it is today?”

Her question surprised me. It was random.

“No, but I think
it’s February.”

Blondie sighed as she draped her braided hair over her shoulder and ran her hand down its length. She had missed a strand near her ear; she curled it around her finger, over and over again. It seemed like the act comforted her in some way.

“Six more months and it’ll be five years.”

“Weird,” I said as I pressed my lips together. Time goes by so quickly when it seems so slow.

“Weird,” she repeated in agreement and bit down on her lip. She did that when she was thinking I realized. “How much longer?”

“One more landmark and then we’ll be at our next stop.” I pulled out the map once again and shined my flashlight on it. “We’ll be there in approximately two miles.”

              “Good. I’m beat and my legs are beginning to complain.” She took out another bottle and took a pull from it.

“Oh yeah, what are they saying?” I saw the last landmark up ahead. It was a smaller mountain with two boulders on top, one balanced very dangerously on the other. I was just waiting for it to topple over, but I knew it must have been like that for hundreds, if not thousands, of years—especially if the earthquake couldn’t even move it.

“Nothing I can repeat. It’s pretty vulgar stuff, Tex.”

We laughed again. I guess we were bonding, over what, I wasn’t sure. Maybe the heat was just making everything seem more comical than it actually was; maybe it was making us friendlier towards each other. Whatever the reason, it was nice not having to think of the ones I had lost almost five years ago and I guess, despite my desires, if I had to be friendly with someone to achieve that, so be it. I was really beginning to think I was bipolar—one second I didn’t want to be friendly with her; the next, I did. This girl was going to test my sanity, I knew it.

“Tex?” Blondie didn’t look at me. She kept her eyes straight ahead. She was probably trying to figure out those boulders too.

“Shoot.” I wiped my forehead off, flicking the gathered sweat from my hand.

“Thanks for letting me tag along.” There was no sarcasm. She seemed sincere.  I think there was even a smile in her voice.

“Thanks for saving my life.” I nudged her arm with my elbow.

“It was the least I could do after you attacked me.”

Laughter echoed around us as the
safepoint
came into view.

The
safepoint
was a cave carved into a mountainside. It was deep enough that the temperature dropped about thirty degrees. The cavern walls were sharp, jagged, and stony. The smell was thick, almost physical, like rotten earth. I was hoping to hear the dripping of water, but I was sorely disappointed. Our flashlights guided us farther and farther in until we found our stopping point.

Just like every
safepoint
before, this one also had emergency supplies. I guess I had forgotten to let Blondie in on this little secret; she looked at me like I was going mad when I pushed aside a large rock with my boot, peeled back a dirt-covered, thickly-woven rug, and pulled out a box from the ground. She was bright-eyed with excitement seeing the contents of the big brown box. There were a few gallons of water, expired MREs, a first-aid kit, batteries, a blanket, and a lantern.

The kid yanked the blanket from the box and unfolded it. Her face was drawn in a frown, like she was disappointed with the piece of fabric. She examined the cave floor, trying to find the flattest piece of earth. At least, that’s what I would have done. I was right because she used the part of the ground I would have and gently placed the blanket down. She seemed careful not to pick up any dust, which I was thankful for. It reminded me of days when dumb kids would pick up their beach towel, creating a sandstorm for unsuspecting beach-goers.
             

I tossed her the batteries, but kept a couple for myself; my flashlight was on the fritz. I also took the first aid kit for myself because I knew she had her own and my resources were depleted a week or so ago. Each of us had our own gallon of water to drink. The third would be to clean ourselves. I let her know that as I handed her the jug.

“
I wish I had shampoo. My hair is so gross.” She unscrewed the cap and pulled a bar of soap from her pack.

I dug in my own pack for a second and produced a travel size shampoo I had stolen from the gas station. I handed it to her and for a second, an expression of pure joy passed over her face.

“
Thanks,” she breathed. “It’s been too long.” She unraveled her hair, letting the blonde waves cascade down her back. “I shouldn’t be this excited to wash my hair,” she laughed.

It was so weird seeing her open up to me. Though I’d only known her for just a few days, I’d only seen her as the shattered, yet spunky girl who put a knife to my throat. I wasn’t even sure if we’d be categorized as friends yet—maybe two people with similar goals. But I admit
, it was good to see her laugh, especially since she blamed herself for her parents’ death. I wondered how long it had been since she'd had any joy. I wanted to ask her, especially since she’d been alone for almost five years, but I didn’t want to destroy her currently found happiness: shampooing her hair.

“
Tex, can you do me a favor?” She combed her fingers through her hair. It was thick with grime and grease. It didn’t gross me out, yet I’m sure it would have before this apocalypse. That I had grown up a little since then would be an understatement.

“
Shoot.”

“
I don’t want to waste more water than I have to. Could you wet my hair for me?” She handed me the water jug.

“
Um, sure.” I took the jug from her and hesitated. This felt weird and almost too intimate. The last woman’s hair I had washed was my wife’s and that was during a very,
very
different situation. I closed my eyes for a second and then said, “Lean back a bit.”

She obeyed and I let her hair drape over my hand. It wasn’t soft or silky like I once expected a girl’s hair to be. It was stiff and gritty. I tilted the jug slightly so only a small stream was emptying from it. I held the lip of the jug to her hair, starting at her forehead, letting the water wet every inch of her hair until it was all soaked through.

“
Done.”

She smiled her thanks. I didn’t like it too much. I knew what it meant. I didn’t mind that she was happier than usual, but I wasn’t sure that I liked it being aimed towards me. I lacked the realization until now, but I didn’t want to grow close to anyone; I didn’t want a friend or anything of the sort. I liked only having to look after myself and if for some reason she croaked, I absolutely did not want to have to mourn her or blame myself for not protecting her, for not keeping her safe. I began to regret inviting her along. I swallowed the lump in my throat. It was too late now. I ran my hands over my head, sighing.

“
You’re doing it again,” she frowned as she massaged the shampoo into her hair. The sweet smell of the soap seemed to explode all around us.  The suds were brown; dirty and soapy water trailed down her forehead and cheeks. “What are you anxious about?”

Instead of answering her question, I said, “Let me know when you’re done and I’ll help you rinse.”

              She wrinkled her face into a grimace and I wanted to laugh. The expression on her face was hilarious—all wrinkles and a turned up nose. It was getting easier and easier to like her and it pissed me off.

             
“Ready.”

We moved away from the blanket and she tilted her head back for me. I emptied more water into her hair, watching the brown suds splat onto the dirt floor, and just like that, her hair looked a hundred shades lighter and was no longer stiff with a combination of desert dust and oil. She squeezed her hair and let the remaining water drip off.

“Need help with your hair next?” She laughed.

I rolled my eyes. “Good one, Kid.” I ignored her protests about her nickname and cleaned myself up. The jug was drained dry. Afterward, I tossed her an MRE.

“Bon appétit.”

“The expiration date only adds more
flavor.” She tore it upon and we commenced with dinner.

I could see the mouth of the cave begin to brighten. It was daybreak, the absolute worst time of day. Blondie grumbled; she noticed it too. She stretched out on the blanket and yawned. Her hair was already in its braid and was completely dry. I sat down at the bottom corner of the blanket. It was about the size of a queen bed. I wanted it to be two or three times that size, but even at five-hundred feet wide, it would leave me in too close of a proximity to her.

“I won’t take advantage of you, Tex. We can share.” I could hear the rolling of eyes in her tone.

              I didn’t want to share, but I also didn’t want to fall asleep on dirt and rocks, especially after I had just washed myself. I gave in and laid down on the opposite edge.

             
I quickly faded out, thinking I heard Blondie ask why I kept hiding.

[ Elle ]

I was a light sleeper, so I woke up when I heard a shuffling noise. It came from deep within the cave. The lantern was burning bright beside us, so when I looked down into the dark, cavernous tunnel, it took a few moments for my eyes to adjust. When they finally did, it was too late.

An animal, which I quickly identified as a coyote, sprung out from the inky darkness and landed on the unsuspecting Tex. It was all fur and bones. Its ribs were outlined against its body, threatening to poke through the skin. It was desperately hungry, otherwise it wouldn’t have attacked. I remembered my dad telling me that once. Or maybe they had just quickly evolved into murderous creatures over the last few years.

Tex immediately woke up after the impact of the coyote pouncing him. The animal wrapped its teeth around his throat, its jaw in a deadlock.
Tex’s legs flailed and his body convulsed, trying desperately to get the ravenous thing off of him. He pulled, grabbed, and punched at it, causing painful whines to escape the coyote’s muzzle.

Tex lurched and the two tumbled to the side, knocking over the lantern. Glass broke underneath their weight and I briefly hoped that it broke under the coyote and not Tex. A red splotch caught my eye on the blanket beside me. It had to have come from
Tex’s neck. I heard a guttural yell and I knew the coyote had sunk its teeth in deeper.

It had only been seconds since the animal appeared, but I knew if I waited any longer that it might be too late. I pulled my knife out of its sheath and gripped the handle. My knuckles were white. It was a technique that Tex had taught me only a day ago. The blade was aiming downwards, sharp and ready. I lunged at the beast and sunk the blade into its neck, hoping that I pierced every important artery. I pulled it out and sunk it in again. The knife plunged in until the handle was flush with the animal's skin. It yelped in tortured pain. I continued to stab it, over and over again. Blood oozed from every wound, coating me up to my elbows. I sunk the blade once more into its side, hoping that was where the heart was, and the coyote finally stopped resisting and fell limp on top of Tex. I shoved it off of him with my foot. Blood pooled around the dumb creature. As I watched its chest stop moving, I released a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

“Tex!” I yelled, scared out of my wits. “Say something! Are you okay?” I cupped his face between my hands. I prayed he wasn’t in shock; I wouldn’t know how to deal with that.