Anyone? (16 page)

Besides Cole telling me “no touchy-feely,” we didn’t talk
about what had happened between us. A large part of me was relieved about it,
too.
How embarrassing
. We’d slept in our own beds and said very little
to one another when we’d woken up. A quick, “good morning,” and even that’d had
an awkward taste to it.

I had hoped facing a new day would have helped to put it all
behind me, giving me something new to focus on, but the memory still nagged at
my belly and teased my brain. Whatever had happened must have been due to our
close proximity and the lack of other people existing in our tiny world. Being
the last two people around would make anyone lose their minds momentarily.

The rain had stopped sometime during the night, and with the
rising sun, the hanger started to grow warm so Cole slid the large doors all
the way open. He stood there for a minute with his hands tucked into his
pockets, and looked off into the distance before turning to me. “The cat’s on a
leash, right?”

I nodded.
Poor Callie.
She fought hard against me,
wiggling and scratching in an effort to get away. She hated the harness, but it
was for her own good. I couldn’t keep her safe otherwise. I had the leash tied
to a chair and she had plenty of room to explore, but she refused to walk
around and continually howled at the top of her lungs.

“Looks as good a day as any to be on our way.” He peered off
in the distance again. “You ready for this?”

“Yes,” I said, coming to stand near him, but not too close. “I
have to be.” I had no idea why everyone had disappeared or why no one had
returned, but I did know I had to find out where they had all gone. I had to
find my family, because living like this was killing me—existing in the
unknown.

Was I strong and capable enough to hike a great distance and
climb a mountain? No, definitely not. But what choice did I have? If there was
any chance at all that Dad and Toby were waiting for me at Rockport Lodge, then
I had to take it. I’d hike the world over if I had to; I
would
find
them.

“Just so you know, we’re probably not going to get very far
today. We need supplies, enough to survive the great outdoors, but tomorrow
will be better.” He didn’t look at me, and I didn’t blame him. I tried my best
to avoid staring at him, too. No way would I gaze into his eyes again.

“I’m kind of tired of always being told tomorrow will be
better only to wake up and find out it’s not.” Not that I blamed him. I’d been
telling myself that very thing for days. My words were more for me than for him.
“But it’s okay. Everything we do will be one step closer, right? How can I be
upset by that?”

“Good attitude to have.” He turned from the door but looked
past me, over my head, and scanned all his stolen goodies. “I’m really going to
miss this place. You have to admit I did a pretty good job here. Home sweet
home to its finest.”

Pretty awesome in a this-is-illegal-but-cool kind of way. “Yeah,
it’s great. Much better than anything I could have imagined, that’s for sure.”

He grinned, but still didn’t look at me.

I mean, I had to give him props for doing all of this
himself. His talent to rig together PVC pipe and electrical bits and pieces had
to be admired. He was a much better disaster survivor than I’d ever be. “But if
we find people”—I couldn’t believe I’d said
if
—”I mean,
when
we
find people, what are you going to do? Will you stay or are you planning on
coming back here?”

There were people out there somewhere. There had to be. Cole
always insisted this kind of life was perfect for him, and perhaps it was. He
did have issues relating to people—to me—and he spoke a little more frankly
than he probably should. Who knew what kind of life he’d had before all of
this? Maybe he’d had a rough go of it before all hell broke loose, but I couldn’t
imagine him wanting to live alone, forever. Even weird people needed folks to
bounce their craziness off of.

His eyes caught mine for a flicker of a second, somber and
forlorn, but he turned away and gazed out the open door again before I could
really translate the meaning of his look. “Ahh... society with all its rules
and oppression.” He chuckled. “How could a person not want to return to that?
Working nine to five, barely getting by? No, when we find your family, I’ll be
coming back here. It’s where I belong anyway.”

“What? By yourself? How can you say that?”

He shook his head. “I’ve always been by myself, Tess. Way
before any of this ever happened.”

I stepped near him, but didn’t force him to look at me. We
didn’t need that mess happening, not now, not ever. I wanted to touch his arm,
but didn’t, not daring. “Why? What happened?”

His shoulders rolled forward and his face carried a chiseled
seriousness to it—something I hadn’t witnessed before. It took me by surprise.

I swallowed, wondering what had happened to make him believe
living alone, away from all civilization was an answer,
any
answer, to
fix his life. “Who are you?”

He shrugged. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

I took another step, hesitant but curious. “Try me.”

He looked at me for a moment, but when things started to
become a little uncomfortable, he walked past me, his shoulder brushing against
mine, and said, “We should really get going.”

“Stand back.” He waited for me to take several steps away
from the large doors before he wound his arm like a baseball pitcher, even
adding the drama of raising his front leg, and launched the rock at the glass
pane.

Breaking and entering once again.
What was this? My
third or fourth break in? I’d lost count. “Couldn’t you have picked the lock
instead?” I should have known better, though. He had carried that rock for a
good part of our ten mile journey, bouncing it from hand to hand with each
step.

He kicked away the remaining shards of glass and knocked the
frame clean to make passing through less dangerous. “Yeah, but where would be
the fun in that?” He swept his arm to the side. “Ladies first.”

I hesitated, not sure I wanted the benefits of being a lady
in this moment. “I... ah... that’s okay. You can go first.”

“Worried about dead bodies, huh?”

Every empty building, every abandoned car, brought the
potential for another horrific Mr. Stanger-like experience. “Yeah, sorry. I’m
not up for any more dead people or scattered body parts.”

“Understandable.” He shifted the small backpack on his
shoulder. “I’ll go first, but stick to me, okay? I don’t feel comfortable
leaving you outside alone.”

I agreed with him there.

“Be careful.” He guided me through the broken door by taking
my hand. “Watch your step.”

Inside, he could have dropped my hand, but didn’t, and I had
no intention of letting go either. He led me farther into the interior of the
building, past a toy store, a nail salon, and the specialty popcorn shop. The
emptiness of the giant two-story mall became heavy, tangible, when we stepped
into the center. My shoulders slumped forward as though my backpack had accumulated
an extra hundred pounds.

I turned in a circle, still holding his hand, to take in the
dusty Christmas sale signs, the Santa’s village decorated to elicit the
fantasies of every child, the dying trees and brown poinsettias in large pots,
and all the closed shops. My breath seemed to echo along the tiled corridors; an
intense silence.

The beautiful fountain, an attraction people flocked to see
with its timed lights and music, held stagnant water after months of no use.
Green algae lapped at the cement walls and large tufts of blackened leaves from
dying plants littered the thick surface of the water. The silver and copper
coins, tossed in to make wishes, had turned brown and slimy. The smell of
tainted water wafted over me, and I pinched my nose to keep from breathing it
in.

I hadn’t expected people to be there, but it reminded me how
alone we were. I’d never seen East End Mall like this before, devoid of
everything that had once made it so popular, and it felt almost haunting.

“It’s so sad,” I whispered.

Cole gave a guttural laugh. “First off, why are you
whispering? And second, it’s only an empty mall. It’s not sad.” He held his hand
up. “Oh, but wait. You’re a teen and teens hang out in malls, so I guess
somehow that should make sense. But seriously, think of it this way, all this
can be yours. Remember? Just say mine and claim it. Except for Hot Topic, I
kind of have a fondness for their shirts.”

“I don’t need all this stuff.” I stared at the ceiling above
us, taking in the vast loneliness of the mall. A couple of skylights were
broken and the evening sun came pouring through. Dust particles danced in the
rays of light, increasing the creepiness factor, and a slight breeze swirled
some scattered leaves.

“Really? You’ve never shopped at Pacsun or Hot Topic then,
because they’ve got some nice things. You don’t make claim to them, I will.” He
released my hand, and the sense of safety I’d felt before seemed to leave with
that simple disconnection.

“I’m only taking what I need to get me to Rockport.” A
free-for-all shopping spree did have its appeal, and would have been even more
alluring if it weren’t for the fact that it would be illegal. “If you want to
carry several shopping bags of useless stuff up a mountain, go for it.”

Callie wiggled in my arms, wanting down, so I released her,
but held onto the leash as she explored. I followed her with tentative steps,
eyeing everything. When she tried to walk too far away from Cole, I wrangled
her back in. She might be brave, but I sure as heck wasn’t. “I think there’s a
sporting goods store upstairs and another on the far end on the bottom floor.”

“Good. You’re staying focused. That’s important.” He took
the lead and headed toward the stationary escalators, and even though we’d
spent most of the day walking from the hanger back toward the city, he took the
steps two at a time.
Criminy.

I took my time, raising each foot to the next step to ease
the muscle-burning sensation in my calves. A couple of blisters bulged on my
toes and rubbed against my worn boots. Yeah, hiking the canyon road of a
mountain would be
so
much fun. The ten miles spent walking to get here
had almost done me in. I should have taken P.E. more seriously.

Callie toddled along beside me as the three of us walked by
various clothing, jewelry, and electronic stores. Cole scanned each one and
then smiled as he gave me a thumbs up.

Maybe I was being a bit foolish, but only a couple of days
had passed since the whole medical center incident. The smells, the feel, were
still quite clear. Not enough time had gone by yet to put those images from my
mind, and I didn’t know if I could handle any more.

Cole peered through the metal gate that locked the sporting
goods store. “Yeah, this should do it.” He glanced at me. “You camp a lot?”

“Umm... you mean in a tent and stuff?”

He cast me a look that read
“Duh?”

“No, not really. We mostly stayed in cabins and lodges. You?”

He knelt and removed his lock-picking kit. “I’ve spent some
time with nature, but probably nothing like what we’re about to take on. How
hard can it be, really?” He smiled as he slipped the small tools into the
locking mechanism.

I didn’t say anything. If it were easy, more people would be
doing it. I didn’t think any of my friends went camping in tents—RV’s and
trailers, sure, but would that really be considered camping? Especially when
all the comforts of home were brought along?

He slid the large gate all the way open, like it would have
been on a normal day, ready for business. He passed a mini Coke fridge near the
checkout, opened it and removed a sports drink. “Here,” he said as he tossed it
to me. “You need to keep hydrated.” He took out another, uncapped it, and
guzzled half the blue liquid before I’d even lifted mine to my lips.