{"id":6993,"date":"2026-11-04T09:00:00","date_gmt":"2026-11-04T14:00:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.imaginarygardens.org\/?p=6993"},"modified":"2026-11-03T16:49:37","modified_gmt":"2026-11-03T21:49:37","slug":"through-the-deadlands-part-three-a-place-among-the-beasts","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.imaginarygardens.org\/index.php\/2026\/11\/04\/through-the-deadlands-part-three-a-place-among-the-beasts\/","title":{"rendered":"Through the Deadlands, Part Three: A Place Among the Beasts"},"content":{"rendered":"
This entry is part 3 of 3 in the series Through the Deadlands<\/a><\/div>\n
By Rebecka Jones, Staff Writer
<\/h5>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou tell me you aren\u2019t old, then move as slow as a sloth,\u201d Sylvia scoffs from above me, her feet digging into a crevice on the side of the mountain. The pebbles falling onto my face from my sister\u2019s footsteps, along with her mildly insulting comment that I won’t acknowledge while I\u2019m trying to focus, distract me from the height we\u2019ve reached in the last three hours, so I don\u2019t complain.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Except for a few quick snacks and bathroom breaks, we have not stopped our trek up the mountain. Mirae, Sylvia, and I arose before the sun awoke to begin our journey. My nerves were a jumble of shaky limbs and a thumping heart, but the rush through my veins strengthened my courage to finally meet the mountain face-to-face.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I\u2019ve traveled to this mountain at least three times in the past couple of weeks, but I always found myself frozen when the peak was before me. The idea of trying to climb this thing, unaware of the rocky terrain and the wild beasts that lurked up there, was nothing my middle school rock-climbing club had me for. I made long journeys through different forests, plains, and devastated towns, but this mountain is the only other place within a thirty-mile radius of the farm that I had yet to venture to. We could fall into dark caverns, run out of food and water and struggle to breathe from the elevation and toxic air, or run into those deadly radiotoxic zombies\u2026if any of them are on this mountain.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I believed that was my reasonable excuse for not climbing the mountain yet, but there was always that small part of me that was afraid of what I\u2019d discover\u2026or not<\/em> discover up there. I was plagued every night by the thought of never finding a safe place for Sylvia and me to stay, so I was afraid to climb up that mountain and find nothing but devastation for miles and miles. What would I say to my sister then? That there\u2019s nothing left for us but flesh-eating creatures and ash-filled lands? I couldn\u2019t bear to see the color drain from her eyes if I had to tell her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Those thoughts still flood my mind as we make our way into the fourth hour of the climb. They fill up every other thought in my brain because I\u2019m actually climbing<\/em> the mountain now, so I\u2019m working harder on finding crevices to hold onto and rest my feet on. I may be climbing up into the unknown where I could either discover victory or tragedy, but I at least want to be alive to see it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Without looking down, I\u2019d say we\u2019re more than a thousand feet up the mountain, which is making good time, but my arms and legs have been aching for the last hour, and my lungs feel like they\u2019re fighting for air. I don\u2019t mention any of that to the girls, however, because Sylvia has been complaining about her sore feet since hour one. That\u2019s enough whining for the both of us. Mirae, on the other hand, has shown no sign of exhaustion, her steps focused, breaths steady, and eyes alert.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The woman is strong and determined; I\u2019ll give her that, but my chest is still tight from what she told us last night. Well\u2026wrote<\/em> to us. A space station with a living human inside? Flying pods that will take us to Mars, where apparently the rest of the survivors are located? It wasn\u2019t even too good to be true; it was too crazy to be true. I couldn\u2019t wrap my head around how we got scientists to colonize Mars. And what makes Mirae believe we\u2019ll see this space station from the mountain? This is why part of me still believes Mirae isn\u2019t telling the full truth, but I don\u2019t want to ruin my sister\u2019s hopes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Which is why I\u2019m still here, pushing through my quaking bones and protesting lungs.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sylvia is climbing above me, with Mirae taking the front and guiding us. We\u2019re currently hanging off a steep rocky slope, the only things keeping us from plummeting to our deaths being the rope connecting the three of us and Mirae\u2019s strong grip on the rocks. I will admit that I\u2019m impressed by this woman\u2019s skill; she must be a professional rock climber and hiker because her endurance is endless and her ability to lift herself up from rock to rock is jaw-dropping. She also came prepared with food, water, and the rope.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAre we almost to the top of this cliff?\u201d Sylvia says in a raspy breath. Besides her complaints about sore feet, I could tell this climb is taking a huge toll on her body in other ways.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I see Mirae nod over my sister\u2019s head, her pace still the same. Her gesture is confirmed when I spot a plateau looming about a hundred feet above, shielding us from the charcoal clouds and the artificial night caused by the soot. Fortunately, the dim sunlight breaking through the hazy atmosphere helps us navigate up the mountain, but it doesn\u2019t stop the cold from numbing my fingers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My face feels hot from the exertion and the piercing wind, and I almost can\u2019t feel my lips. It feels like icicles are growing in my lungs as I suck in cold air. I tighten my grip on the rope with one hand as I use the other to reach for the next crevice.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We finally make it to the platform on the side of the mountain, and Mirae pulls the rope until Sylvia and I both get our footing on the stone. My body is like a heavy weight of limbs as I collapse, welcoming the coolness of the rock pressed against my cheek. I hear my sister let out a loud puff of air above me, and I hear the sound of the rope hitting the ground as my sister plops onto the plateau.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

After a long moment on the ground, I force my body into a sitting position. Mirae hands us canisters of water, which we both chug down, and takes one for herself. We rest in silence for another long moment before Sylvia exhales.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI think I\u2019m done for the day,\u201d she says, her words slurred together. \u201cI literally can\u2019t feel my legs or my lips.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I nod, and Mirae also gestures her agreement. She sets a bag down and shovels through it, eventually pulling out two rolled-up sleeping bags. I muster the strength to get up and help her unroll them, silently questioning the sleeping arrangements considering we\u2019re three people and there\u2019s only two sleeping bags, but I decide to set that aside for now because I\u2019m focusing on our current situation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe need to start a fire,\u201d I say as I scan the area. The plateau is mostly rock and dirt, but closer to the rocky wall of the mountain, I spot withering blades of grass and remnants of black tree bark. That\u2019ll work.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Once I\u2019ve gathered the wood and Mirae has helped me start the fire, the three of us sit by the warmth and eat the bread and crackers Mirae salvaged from an abandoned town\u2019s grocery store. I stay on the lookout for zombies or other beasts while Sylvia asks Mirae yes-or-no questions so she doesn\u2019t have to draw in the dirt and to keep the awkward silence away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I, on the other hand, remain silent because I have no input on murder mystery shows and wearing black boots; I have no idea how their conversation even got to this topic, but it\u2019s nice to hear my sister talking about something other than the unfortunate situation we\u2019re in. It almost makes me believe our lives could be normal again. Almost.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My eyes drift to the smoke from the fire flying up into the dark sky, where it will be trapped among the soot forever. I try to focus my vision past the haze, as if I could see through the toxic barrier and find a place of blue skies and a bright sun. I even look past that, envisioning cities and people living on a small, orange planet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I\u2019m really trying to picture the possibilities humanity has on this neighboring planet, imagining Sylvia and me living in a little house. Maybe we\u2019d be goofing off on our video games like we used to, or I\u2019d be making her rainbow spaghetti on her birthday with the secret stash of food dye I have, assuming we have access to that kind of technology and food on Mars.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Maybe life could be lived on this new planet; even so, it won\u2019t be the same. Not because we\u2019ll be millions of miles away from our birth planet, but because our parents were taken by that horrible explosion. I thought reaching the age of eighteen meant I would be happy to leave the house and live on my own, having fun with my friends and being free from the responsibilities of an older child, but I couldn\u2019t ever imagine my parents being permanently removed from my life. I no longer have my dad to cheer me on at soccer games or guide me through a man\u2019s adulthood, and I no longer have my mom to teach me how to cook or listen to my worries when I\u2019m at my lowest. I\u2019m independent now in a way I would never have wished for. What hurts even worse is that my little sister will have to go through her maturing years alone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sylvia won\u2019t have mom to help her through womanhood or dad to support her. She\u2019ll have to look up to me because I\u2019m her older brother, and I have no clue how to raise someone well. My sister will have to rely on me to give her advice, pick her up when she falls, and be there for her. I know I already try to do those things, but now all of that responsibility falls on me. I don\u2019t want her to have to seek me out for every answer when I can\u2019t help her all the time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My chest aches. Part of the pain is from the realization of what a new life somewhere else means, but the other part feels more\u2026physical. Maybe it\u2019s because I\u2019m high up on a mountain, so the elevation is messing with me. Suddenly the pain grows, so I snap into reality and find my sister literally poking<\/em> my chest.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe\u2019re trying to talk to you!\u201d Her loud voice clears the fog of thoughts in my brain. \u201cAre you alive?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I blink and clear my throat. \u201cSorry, I was just thinking.\u201d Mirae and Sylvia give me curious looks, but I decide not to share and instead look at my sister. \u201cWhat were you saying to me?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMirae wanted to know if you preferred eating leftover pizza cold or warmed up,\u201d my sister reiterates. The statement is so out of place in my thoughts that I almost laugh, but I decide to welcome the light conversation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cUh, definitely warmed up,\u201d I say through a chuckle. \u201cI don\u2019t understand how or why people eat it cold.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Mirae smiles and nods in agreement. Sylvia, on the other hand, crosses her arms and scoffs. \u201cIt tastes the same either way! I just eat it cold because it takes too much time to warm it up.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou put it in the microwave and press a button. That\u2019s it.\u201d I say, to which Mirae lets out a silent laugh.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sylvia and I go back and forth for a little while until we\u2019re interrupted by her yawns. \u201cI don\u2019t care what you think anymore. I\u2019m too tired for this.\u201d My sister scoots towards the sleeping bags, slipping inside one and curling up like she\u2019s in a cocoon. \u201cGoodnight.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I roll my eyes at her dismissal. \u201cGoodnight.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Silence settles over us as Sylvia drifts off into sleep. Mirae and I stare at the fire as it crackles and puffs out a column of smoke into the air. I find myself distracted from my thoughts because I\u2019m trying to figure out what to say now. Without Sylvia keeping up the conversation, I\u2019m as silent as this dead world. I also just don\u2019t know what to ask Mirae without making her have to write or gesture her response.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Even with that train of thought, my lips seem to move of my own accord, and I make a fool out of myself. \u201cSo, you like archery.\u201d I phrase it more as a statement than a question.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Mirae breaks her gaze from the fire, those dark eyes finding mine. She simply looks at me without nodding or shaking her head, and our locked gazes make me wish for the ground to swallow me whole. This woman probably thinks I\u2019m a naive guy who has no idea how to start a simple conversation\u2026and she\u2019d be right, considering the first thing I said was hi<\/em> after she had almost shot an arrow through my head.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

So I\u2019m surprised when she finally rewards me with a little nod. My chest feels less tight now, as if this were a small victory. Okay, started a conversation. Now I need to keep it going.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHave you been doing it a while?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Nod. Maybe this isn\u2019t so bad.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWas it difficult to learn?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Another nod.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWho taught you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Stillness.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Mirae turns back to the fire, her shoulders tense. I notice how she pinches a lock of her long, dark hair between her fingers, running her fingernails through it, as if pondering how to respond. After a long and painfully awkward moment, she grabs a stick from the leftover wood pile and starts sketching something in the dirt beside the fire.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When I look at the finished drawing, my brain immediately connects the dots. \u201cYour grandfather.\u201d She nods, so I continue. \u201cYou looked up to him a lot, didn\u2019t you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Nod.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI understand now why you trust that your grandfather is leading you to a better place,\u201d I say with a grin, hoping she\u2019ll see my sincerity. \u201cYou probably had a lot of good memories together, and he must have taught you a lot of things other than archery because you really know how to survive out here.\u201d I chuckle at that, and she smiles in response, the auburn tint in her eyes sparkling in the firelight. \u201cYou trust him so much that you\u2019re willing to take my sister and me with you, even if this space station might not be what we think. I admire that.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I really do. Her faith in him must make her strong. I see the way she stands in confidence, always aware of everything around her, and selfless enough to help strangers find a way out of this deadly place. I looked up to my mom in a similar way; she always had the right words to say to cheer me up. She was also patient when my anger got the best of me, and she\u2019d be there for me and guide me through it nevertheless. If only she were still here\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Not going down that route again\u2026not right now.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Mirae must have caught a shift in my expression because her fingers are intertwined in mine. My chest fills with a foreign warmth, drawing all my attention to those sets of sparkling eyes and magnetic dimples. The side of her face was lit up from the fire, her ivory skin glowing like polished gold.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Woah. When did I start noticing details like that on someone?<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I immediately shake my observations because come on, Jayden, this woman is just trying to be nice.<\/em> No need to pick out all these details as if she were a natural phenomenon. Although, arguably, she could be\u2013<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Nope. Shut up.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I calm my thoughts, focusing on the comfort Mirae is giving me. Her hands are warm with a few calluses staining her palms, yet her touch is soft. Her smile reaches her eyes as she mouths the words, \u201cIt\u2019ll be okay.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I\u2019ve heard that saying a thousand times, but it feels different coming from her. From someone who seems to understand what it\u2019s like to miss someone they love. She may still get to see her grandfather if we get this space station, while I won\u2019t ever get to see my parents again, but she can still relate. Maybe she even lost her parents, too, but that\u2019s not something I\u2019m going to pry out of her. Especially not right now.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I return the smile and nod. We\u2019re both still again, but this time it feels comfortable. Her hand slowly falls away, and I can\u2019t comprehend the pinch of longing in my chest when the warmth of her skin is gone. Soon her presence beside me is gone as she walks over to the remaining sleeping bag.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Her eyes find mine again, but the glint is gone, replaced with a serious look. She points to the sleeping bag and raises a brow, and I nearly forget how there are only two sleeping bags, one occupied by Sylvia.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

This could get awkward again real quick, so I decide to save us both\u2014mainly me\u2014the embarrassment and wave it off. \u201cYou take it. I don\u2019t mind sleeping on the ground.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She narrows her eyes as if she is about to protest but then shakes her head. She throws the backpack towards me and gestures for me to use it as a pillow, to which I decide to obey and rest my head on it. I remain on the lookout for other living things out here and find nothing but silence.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

After the conversation with Mirae that left me feeling lighter in other ways I\u2019m not sure how to explain, sleep finds me easily.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n\n\n\n

We immediately resume our journey the next morning. My body feels recharged, my mind refreshed, so making it to the top of the mountain was easier compared to yesterday. Sylvia was also in a better mood and didn\u2019t complain as much, so maybe all she needed was sleep. Mirae, on the other hand, seemed uneasy. Her shoulders were tense again, her movements frantic, and her eyes seemed focused elsewhere.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I wanted to check in on her during our snack breaks because I thought we were more comfortable with each other after last night, but something kept me from approaching her. I decided to keep my distance instead and give her time to figure it out.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Reaching the top felt like an amazing victory, though it didn\u2019t mean our mission was complete. Now we had to locate the space station, assuming we could see it from here, and make the journey down there. The worst part might be trekking back down the mountain, but I\u2019m trying not to focus on that right now.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"a
One mission a success, another a setback. | Nandakumar R (Pexels)<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

The three of us stand on the broad, rocky ar\u00eate of the mountain, looking out upon the desolate lands. Through the haze, the plains look as vast and deep as oceans, and the collapsing buildings from the visible towns and cities are like fallen statues from up here. The view makes my heart heavy, and all the emotions from last night and the weeks after that threaten to appear in my eyes, but I blink them away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOkay,\u201d I say to clear the lump in my throat. \u201cWe\u2019re looking for a space station. What exactly would that look like?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sylvia shrugs while Mirae keeps her gaze on the view. \u201cMaybe there\u2019ll be a rocket beside it? I always see them on TV.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I search for rockets or any type of aircraft, only to find nothing of the sort. The three of us are silent for a long moment, looking in every direction. I almost lose hope when Mirae stomps her foot, drawing mine and Sylvia\u2019s attention to her pointed finger. I follow her line of sight towards an opening in the haze to a tall building topped with a dome. Along the spherical roof, there\u2019s a circular opening. It could be big enough to fit a spacepod.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat has to be it, right?\u201d I ask. Mirae looks at me and nods, the only real contact I\u2019ve gotten from her today.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cLet\u2019s go, then!\u201d my sister exclaims behind us. As I look at the surrounding area of the space station, I find that I can\u2019t share her enthusiasm. I can tell from Mirae\u2019s parted lips and widened eyes that she\u2019s seeing the same thing as me. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sylvia must sense our hesitation because she asks, \u201cWhy are we just standing here?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOne problem,\u201d I say, my voice hoarse all of a sudden.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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

\u201cIt\u2019s in the middle of the zombie city.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

This entry is part 3 of 3 in the series Through the Deadlands<\/a><\/div>

By Rebecka Jones, Staff Writer \u201cYou tell me you aren\u2019t old, then move as slow as a sloth,\u201d Sylvia scoffs from above me, her feet digging into a crevice on…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":11,"featured_media":6994,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_EventAllDay":false,"_EventTimezone":"","_EventStartDate":"","_EventEndDate":"","_EventStartDateUTC":"","_EventEndDateUTC":"","_EventShowMap":false,"_EventShowMapLink":false,"_EventURL":"","_EventCost":"","_EventCostDescription":"","_EventCurrencySymbol":"","_EventCurrencyCode":"","_EventCurrencyPosition":"","_EventDateTimeSeparator":"","_EventTimeRangeSeparator":"","_EventOrganizerID":[],"_EventVenueID":[],"_OrganizerEmail":"","_OrganizerPhone":"","_OrganizerWebsite":"","_VenueAddress":"","_VenueCity":"","_VenueCountry":"","_VenueProvince":"","_VenueState":"","_VenueZip":"","_VenuePhone":"","_VenueURL":"","_VenueStateProvince":"","_VenueLat":"","_VenueLng":"","_VenueShowMap":false,"_VenueShowMapLink":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[5],"tags":[],"series":[72],"class_list":["post-6993","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-creative","series-deadlands"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.imaginarygardens.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6993","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.imaginarygardens.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.imaginarygardens.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.imaginarygardens.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/11"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.imaginarygardens.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=6993"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.imaginarygardens.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6993\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":6995,"href":"https:\/\/www.imaginarygardens.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6993\/revisions\/6995"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.imaginarygardens.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/6994"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.imaginarygardens.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=6993"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.imaginarygardens.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=6993"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.imaginarygardens.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=6993"},{"taxonomy":"series","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.imaginarygardens.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/series?post=6993"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}