Surviving Chaos

13

“We’re walking in circles,” said Cynthia.

“How can you tell?”

“We’ve been by this tree three times.”

“What tree?”

“The one right in front of your face. Look at it.”

Cynthia smacked the huge tree with her fist, to prove her point. Cynthia could be very sarcastic during the best times, and when things were stressful, she could be even more acerbic.

“I see it,” said John. “But I don’t think we’ve been past it before.”

“What? Are you blind or something?”

“Obviously I’m not blind.”

“Then why can’t you see it? You really didn’t see it before?”

John sighed and sat down on the ground, still wearing both packs. He’d been walking with Dale’s pack on his front, and his own on his back.

Kiki, who’d been walking ahead of them, came back to see what was going on. She came up to John and started licking his hands.

“I think Kiki likes me more than you do,” said John.

“She doesn’t like you. She’s just trying to get the salt from your sweat.”

John knew it wasn’t true. Ever since Dale had died, Kiki had been much more affectionate with the two of them.

“All right,” said John. “Maybe you’re right about the tree. The last thing we want to do is argue.”

“Who’s arguing?”

“Let’s just take a break,” said John. “Do you want another energy bar?”

“I don’t think I can eat another one. They really taste like sawdust to me now.”

John dug out two of the energy bars from his back, and handed one to Cynthia. Despite what she’d said, she was soon biting into it savagely, tearing off huge pieces and chewing rapidly.

As John had predicted to himself, Cynthia’s mood started to get better almost immediately. He’d noticed the same thing in himself. When his blood sugar was low, everything seemed worse, more hopeless.

After a few minutes, he was feeling a little better himself.

He took out the maps they had and laid them out on the ground.

“So we’re still in Ryerson Station State Park,” said John. “At least as far as I can figure out.”

Cynthia nodded. “Quite astute,” she said sarcastically. But her tone was more playful, and her eyes, when they looked up at him, had more warmth than malice in them.

“We would have come across a road,” said John. “According to these maps at least. The thing we don’t know is…”

“Whether we’re being hunted?” interrupted Cynthia.

John nodded. “But also where we are.”

Cynthia sighed loudly. “What I wouldn’t give for a GPS, or a smartphone right now.”

John nodded, but in his opinion there wasn’t much point in entertaining ideas like that. Things were the way they were, and they weren’t going to change because of wishful thinking.

“I guess we have to figure out how we can walk in a straight line,” said John. “It sounds obvious. But as long as we keep going the same direction, we’ll get out eventually.”

“And then what? We don’t even know where we’re headed.”

“Yeah, that’s true.”

The two were silent for a long while.

“Why don’t you try the radio?” said Cynthia.

“The radio? What do you mean?”

“Just give it a try. Maybe we can hear one of those broadcasts.”

“And what good would that do us?”

“Well, it would give us information. Who knows. There’s no harm in trying, right?”

“We’ve got to get out of here as quickly as possible. If they’re hunting us down, that is.”

“I’m pretty sure if they were we’d already be dead.” Cynthia said it in a matter of fact way, as if the possibility of being killed didn’t bother her much.

John understood where she was coming from. Death had become completely normalized for them. They hadn’t even spoken much of Dale’s death. For them, it was simply something that had happened. Dale had been with them, and now he wasn’t. There wasn’t anything they could do about it.

“Fine,” said John. “I’ll try the radio. But I don’t know how to work it.”

“I do.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be able to?”

“I don’t know. It’s not something everyone knows how to do. It’s not a normal radio.”

“My brother used to be obsessed with these things. Here, give it to me.”

John fished around in the pack until he found the radio. It was still in its bizarre and make-shift Faraday cage, which had gotten a little bashed up and dented in places, from sitting in the pack as it had been. Hopefully it was still effective.

John handed the radio to Cynthia, who started unwrapping the chicken wire from around it.

“Do we really need to keep it in this wire?”

John shrugged. “I don’t know. Dale thought it was a good idea, obviously. Remember? He refused to leave the wire behind.”

Cynthia didn’t answer. She was already busy fiddling with the controls.

They didn’t know if there’d be another EMP. There’d really be no way to know, as far as John could tell. If it had been something natural, like a coronal event, then another EMP actually might be likely.

If, on the other hand, it had been some kind of attack, or technological accident, another EMP wasn’t likely. What would be the point of setting off another one, after everything had already been disabled?

The accidental EMP was something John had been thinking a lot about recently. What if someone had been testing some new kind of weapon, and there’d been an accident? An accidental detonation of a device? It was plausible, since John knew that those sorts of things did happen occasionally.

But there was really no way to know. It was all just idle speculation on his part, and didn’t affect his life much at all. The radio was the only electronic thing they had, apart from the flashlights.

“You get it to work yet?”

“Yeah.”

Cynthia showed John the dials she had turned, and how to switch it on. He was so tired it mostly went over his head.

“I’m not finding anything,” said Cynthia. “Just static.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing, yeah, that’s what I said.”

“Just checking.”

“Well,” said Cynthia. “Maybe we’ll find something tomorrow. Who knows.”

“We should get a move on it.”

“Sounds good, but what’s the plan?”

“The plan? Are you losing your memory or something?”

“No, just tired.”

“You said you had a brilliant plan for walking in a straight line.”

“Oh, yeah. Well, I haven’t thought of anything yet. Have you?”

Cynthia paused for a moment. “We’ve been using the compass. But maybe we’ve been using it wrong.”

“Wrong? How can we use it wrong?”

“Give it to me. And show me how you use it.”

John handed over the compass, explaining what he’d been doing with it.

Cynthia started laughing as soon as she saw it.

“What direction have we been headed in?”

“Northeast.”

“Yeah? You sure?”

“Pretty sure.”

“You know how to use a compass, right?”

“Of course I know how to use a compass. You think I’m an idiot or something?”

“Maybe. Look, you’ve been getting us off track. You have to pay attention to the degrees. These little lines here.”

“I know what degrees are.”

“Apparently not. You’ve been pushing us a few degrees forward each time, making us go around in a wide circle.”

“Are you sure?”

“No, but it’s likely.”

John shrugged. “Sorry, I guess,” he said. “I’m exhausted.”

“I think I should have the compass from now on.”

John shrugged, and nodded. He felt embarrassed. How could he have been so stupid? The line had been pointing one way… He was getting confused just thinking about it. Figuring out where you were with a compass was a lot harder than it had seemed.

What could John expect? He’d spent his whole adult life in the city, where the streets were laid out in a grid. Walnut Street ran west, and Chestnut ran east. The numbers of the cross streets got higher as you went west, and lower as you went east, towards the river. It was something everyone learned when they first moved to Philadelphia, and it always worked.

Out in the woods, it was different.

“OK,” said Cynthia. “I’m in charge this time. Let’s go.”

John shouldered his packs again, and groaned as he got them on.

“I don’t know how much longer I’m going to be able to carry two packs.”

“I thought you were supposed to be tough. The big strong man. But look at you, you can’t even figure out a compass. You’ve been leading us in circles for days.”

John paused. He didn’t know how to react. He saw her face. There was real anger there, in her eyes and in the way she held her mouth.

“What’s gotten into you?” said John, speaking slowly. “I thought the energy bar had helped. You seemed like your mood was better.”

“I…”

“What is it?”

Cynthia’s expression changed. Her lip was quivering, and there were tears welling up in her eyes.

“I don’t know,” she said.

“What’s going on?”

“I don’t know.”

She sat back down, with her pack on, and put her face in her hands. She was crying.

John didn’t know what to make of it.

They’d been getting along well before Dale’s death. They’d been close, and while Cynthia’s sarcasm occasionally had gotten old, he knew there’d been no malice behind it. Normally. Only affection. Maybe something more.

He squatted down, which was difficult with the pack, and put his arm around her.

Kiki came over and started sniffing around curiously, nuzzling her head against Cynthia.

“What’s going on?”

“It’s just… everything.”

John knew what she meant. They’d been through too much.

They spent above five minutes there, in that position, until John had to move. He told her everything was going to be OK, which they both knew was, if not a lie, at least only a half truth. There was no way to know if they’d make it. And, realistically, chances were that they wouldn’t, that they’d instead meet some horrible fate. Or simply die somewhere from starvation. As if that wasn’t bad enough.

Cynthia seemed like she was doing better. She was drying her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” said Cynthia, looking up at him. “I know I was being rough on you.”

“It’s fine. I can take it.”

Cynthia gave a little chuckle. “I know.”

“Come on,” said John. “Let’s get moving.”

“All I did was waste time,” said Cynthia. “If people are after us, I only made it easier.”

“True, but come on. We’ll make up for it.”

They set off at a brisk pace, Cynthia leading the way. Kiki, again, walked in front of them, periodically checking to see which way they were headed.

Up ahead, John spotted a small structure. Some type of odd little building. It was painted forest green and made of wood. It would have blended in with the trees, had the leaves not already changed color, many of them fallen off.

Cynthia saw it too. She stopped. “What’s that?”

“Maybe some kind of park building? It is a state park after all.”

Kiki wasn’t far away. Suddenly, she barked, opening her mouth wide.

“Kiki,” hissed Cynthia. “Quiet.”

Kiki barked again, and again.

Maybe she was trying to warn them? John turned his head to look around them. But it was already too late.

John heard it before he saw it.

The unmistakable sound of a shotgun being racked.

A man stood there, tall and very thin.

He wore a brown park ranger’s uniform, but it was tattered to the point of almost looking like rags.

John didn’t dare reach for his gun. He hoped Cynthia wouldn’t either.

“Hands above your heads,” said the man. His voice cracked as he spoke, as if he hadn’t used it in a long time.

John glanced at Cynthia. She was already raising her hands. There was despair in her eyes. John knew the look well.

They’d gotten through so much, only to come up yet again against another obstacle, another danger. Who knew if this was their last.