- Through the Deadlands, Part One: A Lethal Journey
By Rebecca Jones, Staff Writer
I hate scouting days. The long journey from place to place takes a toll on my weak lungs and bruised feet. The piercing cold from the eternal winter puts my head in a fog and pushes my heart to the brink of cardiac arrest. Worst of all, I hate that I have to leave my nine-year-old sister to fend for herself.
“Please don’t be gone for long,” her plea echoes in my mind as I trudge through a field of tall grass. The long blades wither as my hands brush against them, their life drifting away into the darkened sky and disappearing forever in the gray haze. I remind myself that the same fate will find us if I don’t look for a haven. Even if it means leaving Sylvia alone for three days, I have to do it.
My oxygen mask hisses as I take a shallow breath. I pull the tank through the field behind me, its wheels getting caught in the undergrowth. My muscles ache from having to drag this bulk of metal with me everywhere I go, but it’s the price I’m willing to pay to return to my sister alive. The tank protests as I heave it over a dead tree trunk, but it continues rolling behind me nevertheless.
I scan the shadows of the forest before me, the soot-infested tree trunks creating tall silhouettes in the dark. Leaves cover the forest floor, decaying and becoming one with the brown grass. The once-green bushes that were homes to vibrant flowers are now tumbleweeds rolling through the lonely forest. The only sounds come from the rustling of leaves and the faint whisper of the wind in my ears.
I test my luck exploring the forest, looking behind and climbing up trees in search of anything that still breathes. I even look under rocks and shrubs in hopes of seeing little critters. In the three hours I spend searching, my luck proves to be faulty. There is nothing left to be found, so I trek onwards to the mountain lining the black horizon.
On my last journey, I had hoped I would make it to the mountain. If I could climb to the peak and look out past the smoky haze resting over the clouds, maybe I would find a haven. I don’t even know what I would look for, but anything is preferable to this desolate land covered in murky soot.
The mountain looms over me as I approach. The black rocks look like charcoal, dull and friable like everything here. I feel like mere bones before this mighty peak reaching into the heavens. How I thought I could climb this, I have no idea.
It’s almost as if my oxygen tank was warning me against the idea, screaming at me with a red light and obnoxious beeping.
“Shoot!” I scramble to spin the tank around, looking for the gauge. My heart drops when the screen reads thirty-five percent. I must’ve been using up more oxygen than I thought.
With this much oxygen remaining, I won’t even make it a quarter of the way up the mountain. This might get me back to the farm, but there is no way I can go any further. I have to cut my journey short.
My chest feels heavy from the scarcity of oxygen and my failure. I was hoping I’d return to Sylvia with more details about the world beyond the farm, where there might be beautiful animals grazing the fields and rivers with crystal-clear water running through a vibrant forest. Maybe if I could’ve gone up that mountain, I could tell her there was a place for us to go and live without these stupid masks and the depression of this dead world.
Before I waste another ounce of oxygen brooding, I turn around and start heading for the forest again. My feet are dead weight as I drag myself through the shadows. My face burns from the cold, my eyes dry from the wind. Every bone of my body creaks as if it’s on its last hinges. I wouldn’t be surprised if I blacked out in any second, but I can’t afford to lose time. I push through.
As I make my way back into the clearing of tallgrass, I wonder what I will tell Sylvia. Do I want to be truthful and see the light leave her eyes, or do I lie to see another smile on her lips?
I almost scream in frustration until I come across a patch of berries in the undergrowth. In a flash, I’m digging through the dirt and plucking the berries from the ground. I hold one between my pointer and thumb and look for blemishes. When I see there are none, I take out a pouch from my bag and dump the berries inside.
I may have failed in finding my sister and me a new home, but at least I know we won’t have to eat from our stash of oily canned sardines tonight.
The gray haze has faded into the shade of storm clouds by the time the farm appears on the horizon. As I approach, I see the barn’s charred wood from the explosion, which left some wall and ceiling planks hanging off their nails. Where the destruction left openings in the walls, I added a steel barrier from the remains I found of a steel container roof. Altogether, the structure is still holding up surprisingly well, considering it’s been our home for the past several months. We haven’t had any problems with it yet.
I drag my oxygen tank over the remains of the fence that used to line the perimeter of the farm. The barn sits in the middle of a huge empty field. The grass here is also brown and disintegrating, a graveyard for the farm animals that once grazed these fields. I see traces of life before the explosion in the decaying chicken coop and the charred horse stable. Several yards behind the barn rests a pile of blackened wood planks and tiles, which I’m guessing was once a home with a family.
“Jayden!” A voice squeaks ahead of me. I see a tiny head poke through the sliver of an opening on the steel wall. A pair of pearly whites and bright blue eyes greet me as I approach.
“Via, you’re okay,” I breathe out in relief, my chest lightening. I hadn’t realized how stiff my shoulders were until they fell below my neck, but then I felt silly. Of course Sylvia would be fine; she’s strong and brave for a nine-year-old. I have to keep reminding myself she punched a snake from our mother’s garden when she was seven.
Sylvia bounces on her toes as I slip through the opening and enter the barn, then she throws herself at me and wraps me in a tight hug. I was so relieved she was unharmed that I didn’t notice her oxygen tank was in the corner of the barn.
“Why is your mask off?” I gently peel her off me and scramble for her oxygen tank, wheeling it over to her and handing her the mask. “You need to wear it at all times.”
My sister’s nose wrinkles in disgust, and she shoves her hands out in front of her. “I’m tired of wearing that. It makes my face itch!”
“I know you hate it,” I sigh, pushing the mask back in her direction. “But this is for your safety.”
“The air isn’t that toxic anymore,” she continues to protest. “We’ve had this barn closed off for months. I think the area is clean from the haze.”
“You can never be too careful,” I insist. When she huffs and turns her head away, I drop my hands in defeat. “Don’t complain when the toxins mess up your brain and turn you into a radioactive zombie.” I’m only partially joking.
“I’m not a zombie, and I’ve had it off for hours!”
“Of course,” I respond with another sigh, walking over towards the wall lined with oxygen tanks. I grab a new one after detaching my mask from the old tank and connecting it.
“Did you find anything?” Sylvia asks behind me. “You’re early.”
I breathe in slowly as a fresh wind of oxygen fills my nostrils. I’m grateful we were able to find a stash of oxygen tanks from the abandoned hospital a couple miles from here. We have enough to last us at least a month and a half, though it might be shorter if I keep going through tanks like I did today. “I had to cut my trip short because my oxygen was running out,” I respond. “But I have a gift.”
Sylvia’s eyes shine like two pearls. “Really?”
I smile at the change of pitch in her voice and rummage through my bag, pulling out the pouch. I toss it over to my sister, and the joy on her face when she opens it has my smile going from ear to ear. At least I don’t have to lie to make her smile this time, though I still need to figure out how to break the news of my failure today.
I decide to wait on that as Sylvia pops a berry into her mouth and sighs. “This is so good!” She then throws her arms around me again and squeezes me. “Thank you so much, Jay! You’re the best brother anyone could ask for!”
The smile slowly melts off my face as I pat her on the back. Am I really a good brother if I can’t find a way out of this horrible place? Every minute we’re here is another year off our lives. We can’t keep living in this toxic wasteland.
“I’m going to melt these into a sauce, and we can have it with that bread you found yesterday,” Sylvia exclaims and skips over to our salvaged kitchen utensils.
I help her make the fire, and she melts the berries in a pan over it. Together, we enjoy the berry sauce and bread rather than the abomination of sardines waiting for us in the can. I tell Sylvia a story about cows before bed, about how I got to pet one when I was four and what beautiful creatures they were.
I try to make her forget the desolate earth beyond the lonely farm and imagine a place of fluffy cows and fields with vibrant berries. Thankfully, it makes her forget to ask me again why I’m home two days early. She finally wears her mask and drifts into a peaceful sleep, but I toss and turn all night.
My body feels heavy from the journey to the mountain and back, but most of the weight is from my dread. I desperately need to figure out how I’m going to get up that mountain without losing too much oxygen. Even if I don’t find a better place for my sister and me, there has to be something out there that can lead us in the right direction. I can’t keep leaving Sylvia alone for days at a time while I scout the lands for signs of life. I’ll do anything to find a place for her where she can have a better life, where she won’t have to wear a stupid mask and worry about her brain decaying from the radioactivity.
You’ve always been so good for your sister.
My mother’s words are a whisper in my ear, as if she were lying beside me on the wooden floor of the barn. I remember her saying that to me when I put a band-aid on Sylvia’s knee when she fell and scraped it trying to ride her bike. Those were the times when all I had to worry about was studying for a math test and winning a soccer game with my team.
I never would have imagined I’d have to worry about living another day because a group of horrible men designed a nuclear weapon under the government’s nose and destroyed the entire world with it when it malfunctioned.
At least that’s what the news people said over the radio as we were rushing into the bunker.
I still remember when the sirens rang throughout the city. I was watching Tangled with my sister because she had forced me into it. All of a sudden, our parents were yanking us off the couch and shoving us towards the bunker in our backyard.
My eyes were blinded by the sky. It was as if the sun were eating up the solar system. My skin had been burning; the most excruciating pain I had ever experienced. The skin on the back of my left arm had burned clean off my bones, yet I still survived as I stumbled into the bunker.
Sylvia was in there with me, and I had my arms wrapped around her so tightly despite my horrible burn. We hid behind the brick wall that separated us from the trapdoor because that was where Father instructed us to go. He had said bricks protected you from nuclear explosions. But he wasn’t there with us, and neither was Mother. She had gone back to find him. I begged and begged her not to leave. Sylvia was wailing uncontrollably. Mother promised she would return.
She never did.
The world was shaking beneath us like a terrible earthquake. It was as if it were ending. The ground cracked and groaned, but the brick wall stood its ground.
It felt like the entire planet cracked in half as it shook. It must’ve been hours until everything went calm and quiet. Even then, my sister and I stayed behind the wall with our arms never letting go of each other. We weren’t ready to see the destruction waiting on the other side, but I especially wasn’t ready to see what had become of our parents.
I didn’t even see what had happened to them when we left the bunker. There was no longer a city before us, but a wasteland of charred buildings and a dark, smoke-covered atmosphere. It was as if nothing existed here. The explosion wiped everything…everyone…off the face of the earth.
A horrible part of me was glad our parents’ bodies weren’t there for us to find. I couldn’t bear the thought of my sister or me seeing death in their eyes and what the explosion did to them, what it did to everyone in that city but us.
I still wonder why it wasn’t us—why it was my sister and I who came out alive. How was someone as weak and unintelligent as me chosen to survive this horrible disaster? How was someone like me supposed to live and take care of my innocent sister? Why wasn’t it anyone else?
I don’t know how I’m supposed to go on taking care of Sylvia in a world like this. We nearly died trying to find food and shelter because the toxic air is suffocating and everything is dead or dying. Those who were fortunate enough to survive the explosion weren’t as lucky when the radioactive particles in the air infested their brains and turned them into animals, which is why I wonder how we’re still alive.
Maybe it was because we found the oxygen masks and I made us wear them every day. I have to fight Sylvia from time to time to make her wear it because she’s convinced the air is clearing up, but I don’t want to take that chance when the haze is still in the atmosphere. I’m not always successful in getting her to wear the mask, so I worry for her even more.
Even if the radioactivity hasn’t gotten to her, I’m still afraid of the monsters lurking around the city several miles away. We had a couple run-ins already, and it was difficult to escape those red, veiny arms and bulging yellow eyes that wanted to tear us to shreds.
About three weeks ago, while Sylvia and I were scavenging for food and water in the city, one had come from around the corner of a building and grabbed hold of Sylvia’s arm. I had nothing but my bare hands and feet, so I punched and kicked the creature until it finally let go. Sylvia and I ran far, far away. We ran until we couldn’t run any further—until our legs gave out. I would never forget how my sister wailed when that thing touched her, or how she wouldn’t leave my side for several days after.
This is why I need to get us to that mountain. I don’t know why my body is so drawn to it, but I feel like there is something there for us. I will do everything to be the brother I’m supposed to be and get Sylvia to that place, where she will be safe from the toxic wasteland and the monsters in it.
As for right now, I drown in my failure.
I didn’t realize I had fallen asleep until I woke to the sound of loud creaking. I sat up quickly, my head clouded from sleep. It takes my eyes a second to adjust to the darkness, the barnhouse walls focusing into view. Without wasting another moment, I jump to my feet and grab the rusty wrench in the corner of the barn, the sleepiness dissipating.
I rush over to Sylvia and wake her, my mask falling off my face along the way. My sister mumbles something along the lines of “leave me alone” as I shake her, but once she opens her eyes and sees how afraid I must look, her mask comes off, and she gets behind me. We back up against the wall.
“Is it another zombie?” Her voice shakes, muffled as she buries her face into my back.
I hold the wrench tightly out in front of me, shoulders aching and arm burn protesting in pain. A wave of nausea engulfs me as I stare at the steel wall across us. There is no way those creatures discovered where we were; we only saw them loitering around the city. The furthest they ever got was to the blackened river, but they would never pass it. There is always the possibility, however, and I didn’t want to lie to my sister.
“I don’t know,” I respond weakly. I then clear my throat and force more resonance into my voice. “Just stay behind me, and I’ll keep you safe.” I’m not sure how much of that I actually believe.
The walls seem to shake around us, groaning and tearing. My sister cries out as half of the steel wall tears off the side of the barn, revealing multiple pairs of bulging yellow eyes and sticky, red flesh on the other side. Rotten teeth gnash at the air, grinding into the remaining steel and detaching it from the wood. Three. Four. Five figures stand outside.
No, a colony.
Hundreds of eyes watch us, their ravenous stares making my heart drop into my stomach. I feel my sister’s body freeze against my back, her breaths halting as if she’s stopped breathing. I struggle to get air into my lungs as well, and I know it’s not because I don’t have my mask on.
We’re dead. We’re going to die. I failed my sister. I failed our parents. I failed myself.
The monsters pour inside the barn, their veiny fingers reaching out for us. I stop thinking. I bring the wrench down on a head, the sound of bones breaking and flesh tearing making my stomach roll. I swing the weapon in all directions, making impact with several other skulls and arms. My shoulders feel like they’re going to come right out of their sockets as I slam the wrench over and over with as much force as possible.
The injured ones that have fallen to the ground begin to rise up, but I’m already slamming the wrench against the wooden walls and making an opening for us. Sylvia clings to my waist, her cries shattering my ears and soaking my shirt, but I don’t have time to think about that as I’m pushing her through the crevice in the wood.
I see her feet touch the dead grass outside, so I begin to pull myself through. The splinters of wood claw at my sides, the pain filling my vision with stars. I hear the growling and raspy groans of the monsters behind me, their fingers brushing against my back as they try to reach for me. I’m too far now, my body falling onto the grass.
“Jayden, what do we—” Sylvia starts, her face red and puffy from tears.
“RUN!” I scream.
She doesn’t need to be told twice. My sister bolts through the clearing, and I’m at her heels. We don’t look back. We never find out if those things are pursuing us with their revolting stench and horrifying eyes. Soon enough, trees block us from the farm, and the sounds of angry roars travel into the dark haze of the night.
We keep running. For seconds, minutes, maybe hours. Even when my lungs burn, and my legs threaten to give out, I push myself forward. I stay behind my sister and hold onto the wrench so tight that my fingers grow numb. I can’t focus on anything else but getting away until I nearly fall on top of my sister when she comes to a complete stop.
I stumble forward but catch myself on a tree. My heart feels like it’s going to pound its way through my throat. The sound that comes out of my mouth doesn’t sound like me at all.
“What’s wrong?”
“I saw something!” Sylvia whimpers, her breaths coming out in short rasps. She rushes towards me and presses her body against mine.
“We’re far away from the farm now,” I reassure her as I catch my breath. “There isn’t anything else out here.”
Sylvia shakes her head and buries her face into my side, refusing to budge. I take another deep breath before wrapping an arm around her and steering us away from the tree. Deep shadows taunt us from all sides, the only light source coming from the faint moonlight breaking through the haze. It’s enough to keep me from tripping over fallen trees and thick roots.
I slowly guide us through the forest, trying to calm my sister. She keeps her face pressed against me, her words muffled as she insists she saw something in the trees. I don’t want to believe the monsters were able to follow us all the way out here. Even if they were able to get to the farm from the city, we’re too far away now for them to keep pursuing us.
I keep trying to reassure Sylvia and myself until I hear wood snap from behind us. My heart plummets as I turn and come face to face with the tip of an arrow.
