“Yes,” I say with a healthy tone of frustration. I wait impatiently as the seats separate apart and slide back into their former positions. I pull out the handgun from my pocket, I tinker with it for a moment until I figure out how to release the clip—it is loaded. I slide the clip back into the gun and head out the door. I place the black rimmed glasses on and attempt to locate some kind of on switch. I find a tiny strip of metal along the right side. As I run my finger down it, it changes to ‘Identify mode.’ I give it another slide and a ‘news mode’ pops up with a window over my left eye—finding myself getting nowhere I give it one more slide, hoping that it has a more useful function. I thank Noah’s spirit when ‘tracking’ comes up. As I look into the woods everything is slowly gridded off into tiny white squares. A red marker indicates a spot on the ground and the word ‘indentation’ pops up. I begin to follow. I look ahead and see a series of red markers running off into the distance. I begin to run, following the path as each footstep begins to light up. I make it a short distance further, the display switches to ‘identify’ mode as it spots someone in the area—as I walk up to a tall oak tree, an image of someone behind it begins to flash. At first it is blue and reads ‘normal,’ then flashes orange and reads ‘Unstable.’ It is almost as though the glasses are going haywire in an attempt to identify the subject. I slide them once, turning them off. I place them back in my pocket as I quietly round the massive trunk of the tall oak. Sitting there, crying—I find Cherie.
“I couldn’t make it very far,” Cherie says as she rocks back and forth. “I tried.”
“What are you doing out here?” I ask as I reach down and place my hand against her cheek. She feels cold to the touch. It is a chilly morning. “Why did you leave?”
“I’m dangerous,” Cherie says as she continues to rock back and forth with her legs pressed against her chest. “I might hurt you one day—I might kill you.”
“I don’t… I don’t care about that.” I say as I attempt to get her up.
“I care about you!” Cherie says loudly as she pushes me away.
“Nobody knows for certain about what our fates will be, nobody knows,” I say as I kneel down beside her. “Anything is possible, we just have to try—and whatever happens… well it happens. I’d rather die trying to protect you, or being with you, than being without you. I need you with me.”
“You need me?”
“I have no purpose without you… I’m your caretaker.”
“I’m your caretaker…”
“You’re having an anxiety attack—I’m going to carry you back to the car. What did you take from the trunk?” I say as I take her into my arms.
“Anxiety attack…” Cherie repeats as she points down to the ground. A single, empty bottle of water sits against the side of the tree.
“How did you plan on surviving out here with just that…” I begin to ask. Then I realize the sad truth—she didn’t plan on surviving. “Let’s get you back.”
“Let’s get you back…”
As we get back into the car I help her into the passenger seat. “Are you alright up front—or do you want to be in the back?”
“I want to be by you,” Cherie says as she looks down to the ground.
“Alright,” I say as I shut the door and enter the driver’s side.
“I am sorry I cause you so much trouble…” Cherie says as she continues to keep her gaze down to the floor
“You aren’t any trouble at all,” I say as I place my hand on her shoulder. I lean over and kiss her on the cheek. I reach in the back and grab the blanket and cover her up with it. She has been out in the cold for far too long. “Just promise me that you won’t do anything like that again—I do really need you. I can’t do any of this without you.”
“I promise,” Cherie says as she looks to me and nods. Some of the sadness has washed away from her face as she curls up in the seat and covers herself up in the blanket. “I just… I don’t want you to die.”
“I don’t want you to die either, running off in the woods like that. If we go, we go together. That’s just how it is going to be, alright?”
“Will we be together afterwards?”
“Yeah…” I say. I’ve never been very religious. Most people aren’t after V-Day… not after everything they have seen or been through. There are still some who believe that we haven’t been abandoned, but they are very few. “I’m sure we will.”
I place the keys into the ignition. “Map up… resume route.”
I get the car back onto the road and begin our trek once more. The terrain here is rougher; however it gives me a greater feeling of safety. There are no wide open spaces, instead large rolling hills surrounded by trees. As I reach a long stretch of straight road, I spot a truck on the road. I do no decrease my speed or do anything that might seem suspicious; instead I reach for my gun with one hand. I’m forced to slow down as I near the old blue truck as we pass each other. My hand is trembling against the steering wheel.
“Are we not safe?” Cherie asks as she notices the vehicle.
“I don’t think it’s anything to worry about,” I say, although I am not sure exactly which of us I am attempting to reassure.
As we pass an old man in a brown hat wearing a white shirt and overalls gives me a glance. I nod at him, and he tips his hat at me and is on his way. I notice that the back of his truck is full of farm equipment.
“Just a farmer…” I say with a contented sigh as I slide the handgun back into my pocket.
“Just a farmer…”
I continue to follow the map until it reaches a little past noon. I pull the car into a small opening that overlooks a large cornfield besieged on all sides by tall hills and trees. I put the car in park and take out the keys. I watch as the solar panels seek out the sun like a field of hundreds of sunflowers. I take out some food from the glove box and attempt to hand it to Cherie.
“I’m not hungry,” Cherie says as she pushes away the food. “Just thirsty…”
I reach for a bottle of water and hand it to her; she drinks it all at once. “Are you alright?”
“You have to keep up the sea inside… or everything will dry up—all the starfish will die,” Cherie says, completely out of character.
I reach over and place the back of my head against her forehead. She is burning up. “You’ve got a fever.”
“You’ve got a fever,” Cherie says in a sarcastic tone.
I pull her blanket away, much to her dismay, and turn on the air conditioning.
“Too cold, you’ll freeze the surface.”
I go to the back of the car and pull out the backpack. I search its contents and find a bottle of Ibuprofen. I take two pills out and return to my seat. “Take these,” I say as I pull another bottle of water from the container.
“You said no pills… no more stars.”
“These are for your fever,” I say as I place the bottle of water in her hand.
She places the pills on her tongue and takes a drink of the water, she then opens up her mouth and extends her tongue out. “Good?”
“Get some rest…” I say as I shake my head. I need to get her to a place where she can rest for a while—being stuck in this car probably isn’t doing her any good. “GPS, how many hours do we have left?”
“You currently have approximately fourteen hours of driving time on our current route.”
“Fuck…” I mutter. That will not do at all.
“Are there any alternate routes?”
“If we take 24 West we can reach our destination in six hours,” the female voice answers back.
“The traffic…?”
“Very minimal…”
“Route it,” I say as I let out a heavy sigh. I look over and see Cherie shivering as the slight noise of her teeth chattering can be heard.