Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 150878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 754(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 150878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 754(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
I jerked around to see another gunman scooping my pack up off the ground. “Damn thieves,” he said, his mouth quirking as he held his rifle with one hand and unzipped my backpack with the other. He removed my canteen and then tipped his head back, glugging down the remainder of my water. Mother fuck.
He tossed that on the ground and then gestured with his gun for me to move along. I was vibrating with rage, ready to lunge at this man and take him to the ground, fuck the fact that he had a gun and was obviously a good shot. But Emily’s face blossomed in my mind, laughing as she twirled her braid.
What good would it do to get myself killed now when the precious last of my water was gone anyway? Killing this man wouldn’t bring it back.
“Get on,” he said, ripping a pack of trail mix open with his teeth and pouring that back too.
I moved around him, and then walked past. There were thieves on this stretch of land, the only one accessible due to the many roadblocks. And why not claim this area that ensured travelers, some of whom had provisions, if you were willing to steal from others? No need to hunt supplies down when they came straight to you.
And it felt like a roundhouse kick to the gut that because of it, men like him were going to live while others died.
A dwindling rainstorm blew through the desert later that day and I used a leaf to collect enough to quench my thirst. Then I found shelter behind a large rock, sleeping fitfully in an upright position for a few hours before rising and traveling on.
Another roadblock appeared just before sunset, and I swore under my breath. How many fucking roadblocks were there between me and Emily? I still had at least a day of travel left, and while each roadblock brought me closer, if I came to a point where I could no longer move forward, I wouldn’t have enough supplies to go back. As it was, I was depleted. I kept glancing at the sky, praying for rain as I imagined many others were doing as well.
There were four or five people, voices raised and arms gesticulating wildly standing in front of the guards patrolling this area of road that led to a higher elevation. The guards appeared unmoved, expressions blank. They were directing people to the right where only parched earth stretched around the rising cliff they were protecting. No one was getting through.
I began to turn, to walk back out toward the desert and go around when I saw a group of people behind the barrier who’d come close enough to see what the yelling and screaming was from outside their protective wall. Well, good for them for being on the other side. I hoped there was enough for everyone there, like at the Swansons’. I hoped they were sharing and that the bad rising from this situation was being balanced by the good. My gaze hooked on a face that looked familiar, and I hesitated, our eyes meeting. A woman holding a baby stood next to him, and in a sudden flash, I realized who he was—the man who’d begged us for help for his baby girl. The one I’d given the two cans of condensed milk.
Our eyes held, both of us seemingly frozen. He’d taken my advice. He’d left the city and found his way to safety and from the looks of it, just in time. He broke eye contact, turning away, the three of them headed up the hill toward the trees, the man glancing back once before pulling his wife and baby closer.
The other people who’d been begging for entrance turned back in the other direction, their quiet cries growing softer as they moved away. I took in a breath and walked around the barricades, taking several minutes to rest and gather my resolve before traveling through the area so desolate and lacking resources, it was open to all. Right now, however, I was the only one on this particular stretch of emptiness.
The sun dipped, clouds clearing, and I swore under my breath. There wouldn’t be rain tonight. Up ahead, I heard a soft smack and paused momentarily before moving forward. I took a few more steps and then halted again when I spotted what looked like a backpack sitting on a rock next to a brambly bush. I turned, looking around for a person who might have left it there. But no one would do that, not in times like these.
I squinted up to the rocky plateau on my left and noticed a man at the top with a gun strapped to his chest. They were guarding the area all along here in case someone decided to attempt a climb. The armed man, however, didn’t even spare me a glance.