After Grace

Their world was crumbling. As the four of us made our way through the woods in the rusty pickup, I watched Joseph in the passenger's seat as he studied the passing skyline on the horizon. I knew what he was thinking. It was the same thing all the adults in our community thought when they saw what was once a great city falling to nothing in the distance; he was wishing he could be back there, back in a time when the buildings were full of people-longing for a life of modest luxury. All I saw when I looked to the distance was the concrete sketch of a life I would never know.

I knew better than to cry about it. Unlike most others, I had a safe place to call home. Without it, I would be just another nameless skeleton in the dirt.

"If I'm gonna come on more supply runs with you guys, " I said, breaking the silence, "can I have a weapon?"

Damen let out a satisfied chuckle. Even though he was fourteen, only four years younger than me, we had almost never spoken. "Hunters get weapons, " he smiled. "You're not a hunter."

"I could be one, " I told him.

"No you can't."

"'Cause I'm a girl?"

"Lindsey's a girl and she's a hunter, " he said.

"Then why?" I asked, my voice teetering with urgency. It was a question that had been on my mind for a long time, but only now did I speak it aloud. Damen's mouth lingered open, an answer locked and loaded in his throat.

"That's enough, " said Harry as he made a sharp left into the hidden trail in the woods. He was Damen's father and only spoke when something was bothering him. We pulled into camp and stopped with a jolt. I spilled out of the truck as fast as I could, hoping I wouldn't have to deal with any more of Damen's smug looks.

As Joseph and I pulled our packs from the bed of the pickup, we were instantly mobbed. A young mother and her husband saw the cans of food and baby formula in my hand and hugged each other. People had very little expectations from these runs, it had been two full decades since the war, nearly every place carrying canned goods had been ransacked years prior. Joy isn't a strong enough word for the feeling I got when we found the hidden gas station behind a wall of Sugar Maples at the side of an old forgotten road. We found canned meals of almost every variety of almost flavor.

"We're gonna be okay this winter, " I told the weary young woman as she wiped a tear from her face. I was suddenly swallowed into a warm hug.

"Thank you, " she whispered. My life was made of such moments. When the women from the group would show me comfort and give me the kind of attention usually reserved for their children. Before she was even gone I already knew my night would consist of me lying in bed, replaying that moment in my head until I fell asleep. As she pulled back her eyes grew concerned.

"Are you alright?" she asked, looking at my swollen lip.

"I'm okay, " I said with a smile. I had almost forgotten it was there. I licked at the wound and tasted the sharp tang of iron, it was still bleeding. She returned my smile and rejoined her husband.

There had been a little girl in the gas station when we waked in. She lay on the floor as if she'd gone to sleep, three empty cans surrounding her. Her skin had been mummified. She had been dead for years.

"Ate herself to death, " Harry had said.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Go too long without eating then gorge yourself... Stomach explodes, " he told me. Damen came running in and without hesitation he knelt down over the dead girl and began putting his hands in the pockets of her dress. The body rocked back and forth, blond hair spilling across her wrinkled face as he tore his way through her.

"What're you doing!" I yelled.

"Checking for supplies, what's it look like?" Before I knew it I was putting my hands around the back of his collar and pulling him away. He fell back to the floor, his shirt tearing at the neck. As fast as he could, Damen rushed up to his feet and threw a punch, hitting me square in the mouth.

His eyes burned into mine. I lowered my gaze. I could hear Damen laugh as Joseph led me outside.

The rain which had just minutes before been a drizzle, was now coming down as a steady silver stream. "Go back to the truck, wait for us there, " Joseph had told me. He was the only person who really talked to me. I wondered why. Why him and not the others? What did he see when he looked at me?

"It's not right the way he was-"

"I know, " he said. "Grace... why're you here?"

"I wanna help."

"You want to be a hunter, " he said.

"So?"

"So..." he began, but the next words seemed to get stuck just before they reached his lips. He looked at me as if he already knew the answer to a question he hadn't asked yet. "Go, please, " he said again. I went back to the truck and waited for them. Damen has been more useful on this trip than I, that thought alone was enough to knock all the life out of me until we returned to camp.

Some of the teenage girls who had come to see what the fuss was about stopped short when they saw me unpacking the truck. I pretended not to notice them. "Want to get ready?" Joseph asked. "We only have our first act, I know the narrative doesn't exactly have to be cohesive for it to be entertaining, but I like to bring a certain degree of professionalism-"

"Why do they always do that?" I asked.

"Who?"

"The girls, the boys, everyone."

He looked up and saw them, the girls met his eyes and quickly walked off. "Maybe they're jealous you get to come with us on these runs now."

"They treat Lindsey like a hero, " I said.

"Come on, we got work to do." Joseph and I walked across camp to the armory where we stored our supplies. Mike smiled and opened the gate when he saw us. The armory was wrapped in sharp spikes of wood to keep intruders from rushing inside."Big catch today?" Mike asked, taking our packs.

"Pretty big, " Joseph said.

"Substantial's the word I'd use, " I said. Mike held his hand out, I slapped it as I'd always done when we saw each other. He smiled and closed the gate. "Don't worry about those girls, " Joseph began as we moved to his tent. "The kids love you at the Story Circle, isn't that all that matters?"

"Some of those girls were in the Story Circle not too long ago. It's like as soon as they turn old enough to have cliques they outgrow me. Is it because I don't have parents? 'Cause I'm not the only one."

"The sun will be going down soon." Joseph said, leading the way, "better hurry."

I followed, unsure of what to make of his non-answers.

#

A cool breeze filled the night, cooler than what was comfortable. The elders said it was probably the end of September, pretty soon the weather would turn frigid, dangerous. Over the summers, everyone worked the farm, though it's really more of a series of small gardens.

Autumn was time for the harvest, we would celebrate to keep morale up but everyone knew that the coming months would be the hardest to survive, and some of us wouldn't. We relied solely on the hunters and runners since we couldn't use the land.

The children gathered and sat in a semicircle in front of what we called a stage. It wasn't more than a few planks of wood laid neatly on the ground. I waited for my cue as Joseph began reading the story he'd just begun to write a few days earlier.

Finally, Joseph introduced the Evil Queen and I jumped out from behind the thin wall we'd erected to serve as a backstage. The children gasped when they saw me. I bared my teeth and hissed as they booed. I hid most of my face under a black veil I had cut from old cloth. I danced and spun as I crossed to the other end of the stage. Once there, I quickly ripped off the veil. Joseph introduced the Good Princess, who'd slept most of the afternoon away and was only now waking up. I rustled my hair and peeked my head out, this time to applause and laughter.

"Mommy, it's the princess!" I heard one of the girls call as I moved aimlessly across the stage and waited for my next cue. Something stirred to my right. I turned to see the other teenagers of the camp filing out into the woods. Some of them snickered when they saw me, hair a mess, waiting to entertain children. I ignored them as always, but when Oliver appeared behind the others, laughing, my throat closed. He had been the only boy to ever call me beautiful.

Looking back, I felt like an idiot for falling for his cheesy one liners. But it wasn't his compliments that made me want to kiss him, it was simply the fact that he was looking at me.

The illusion didn't last long. As soon as I told him I wouldn't do more than kiss he told me I couldn't join the others at the lake like he had promised.

"Erhm, good princess?" Joseph called. I turned and saw him waiting for me. Sorry I mouthed and stepped out. "Oh what a terrible mother I have!" I said and stomped my foot. The children laughed even though it wasn't funny. I began to say my next line but there a commotion coming from the crowd. One by one, the parents began to pick up their kids and hurry in the same direction. Joseph put down his script and we rushed off stage. The crowd had all gathered around the medic tent.

People whispered even though there was no real reason to. "Tom came back, " someone said. "He had a little boy with him. They were covered in blood."

"Tom's here?" Joseph asked, a tone of sharp surprise in his voice. I narrowed my eyes at him, struck by the fact that he was focusing on the wrong end of the sentence. "Excuse me, step aside please, " Mrs. Whitmore said as she rushed past me. She was the nurse. Whenever someone got hurt, she and Doctor Hamilton would be the ones called. She opened the flap to the tent and I saw the hand of a small boy lying on the table, blood covered him like a dark red blanket.

Tom stood at the corner with his arms at his hips. If there was any one person living in the group I still didn't know, it was Tom. I had never spoken to him, he had never even looked at me as far as I could remember. But then, we never really had a chance to meet. He was constantly coming in and out of camp and, when he stayed, it was only for a day or two. He usually only came back when we were about to move to a new location, something we did every year to avoid being found by the Vesp. I had never seen him come back with another person before.

After about half an hour, people began to disperse. One by one they went back to their tents, whispering about what they saw, scared by what it could mean. Joseph and I sat on the empty stage, waiting for the doctor's tent to open again.

"I've never seen so much blood before, " I said.

"We haven't seen any violence like that in a long time." I knew Joseph was talking about the attack which had killed my mother the day I was born.

"Where does he go?" I asked. Joseph shook his head slightly but didn't answer. "Why are you scared of him?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're afraid, " I said, noticing the way he had started picking at his nails, like he did before going out on stage.

"We're all afraid. If Tom found that boy nearby, it could mean we'll have to move soon, could mean we wandered into Vesp territory without even realizing it."

"We can't move in the winter, " I said, "we'll never make it."

"That's why I'm afraid."

"You were scared when you heard his name, " I said. He didn't say anything. Tom burst out of the tent, moving across camp and through the treeline toward the river. Doctor Hamilton stepped out behind him, his clothes ruined red. He didn't follow Tom, he only stood there, watching as people sauntered back toward him. I was the first to reach.

"Doctor Hamilton?" I began, "how's the-"

"He didn't make it, " he said and turned his attention to the other members of the community. "We'll have a service for him in the morning. The doctor went back inside, leaving the rest of us to wonder in frustration.

Joseph moved beside me. "Come on, I'll walk you."

"What about Tom?"

Joseph said nothing. I moved past him and crossed into the woods, toward the riverbank.

"Grace, don't, " Joseph called behind me. I kept going, my feet crunched dry leaves as I walked, winter was closer than I had realized.

Tom was kneeling over the river as he tried to wash the blood off his jacket. He hadn't heard me coming. I opened my mouth before realizing I wasn't really sure why I was there.

"I'm sorry, " were the only words I could think to say. He turned to me but couldn't see my face in the dark, and then, as if the sky itself was waiting for this moment, the clouds above us broke and the moon covered the bank in a white glow.

"Grace?" he asked. He recognized me.

"You know me?" my eyes tried to find recognition in the curve of his cheeks and valley of his eyes but there was nothing. He turned away and went back to washing the blood off his jacket.

"You're sorry?" he asked, not as much a question as a challenge.

"About the boy. I know you were trying to help him."

"And suddenly you care? Why? Because you had to see it?" he stood and hung the wet jacket on a branch. He pulled a cigarette from his pants pocket and lit it with a golden zippo.

"Excuse me?" I asked, confused and offended.

"Are you sorry about the other children who get cut up every day out there?"

"I-"

"You don't know about them. Because you're here, " he said and ripped the jacket from the tree. He tore past me, disappearing into the woods. I stood there in the dark, words and thoughts failing me. I walked back through the skeletal forest, his words rattling between my ears. I told myself he was just upset about the boy. When I got back to camp, everything was still and silent. There was no place to go but my tent.

I crawled under the blankets and closed my eyes, doing my best to remember as far back as I could. Maybe Tom was someone who took care of me when I was a child. I had been passed through the community like an unwelcome house pet, not as much raised as I was baby-sat. I remembered all my caretakers as far back as when I was five years old. I had no memory of Tom.

But it wasn't the fact that he seemed to know me that kept me up all night. It was what he had said. When the anger of his accusations finally settled in my stomach, I realized he was right. The only thought I had ever had about anyone outside my group was how lucky I was not to be one of them.

#

The boy Tom had brought with him was buried the next morning. The pastor's wife spiked a small makeshift cross into the cold brown dirt. Beside the child sized mound lay two others; members of the community who hadn't survived our last move. Dead leaves fell around me as a chilled November wind came ripping through the tops of high trees. The clearing was a few kilometers from camp, still well hidden but here you could see more sky. We didn't call it a cemetery, we didn't call it anything.

Pastor Moore stumbled through the eulogy. Mostly reading a few passages about death and eternal life from his leather bound bible. Without a name or any semblance of a story for the boy, there was little else he could do. Typically, when we gathered to bury one of own, the pastor could give meaning to their lives, if not their deaths. But here there was no meaning, and Tom hadn't shown up to give any answers.

We walked back to camp in a two row file, Joseph stood beside me matching each step. The chatter usually didn't start until we returned to camp but today, it was immediate.

"What if they followed him here? He could have led them right to us, " I heard a women say.

"We don't know anything, stifle yourself, you'll cause a panic, " urged the old man beside her. The couple ahead of me and the girls behind all spoke in hushed tones, no one could keep quiet. I listened to the each word as they spilled from frightened mouths and echoed off dead trees. We were all afraid.

"It's starting to get cold, " Joseph said, when he realized I was just as sacred as the rest of them.

"He recognized me, " I said.

"Who?" he asked.

"Tom."

The couple ahead of me stopped moving. Before I could wonder why I heard Mike's voice from behind the trees.

"You have to wait for the pastor, " he said, his voice had the angry hiss of someone whose patience was running out. I stepped out of the line, Joseph grabbed my shoulder.

"Stay here."

"What's going on?" I asked. The pastor rushed past us from the back of the line. Joseph ran with him. I stood with the uneasy crowd until I realized no one was holding me there. I walked around the elders in front of the line and ran between the tree stumps that marked the entrance to the camp. Slowly, others also began to move as I had.

Tom was standing at the armory gate, facing Mike. The two were caught in a stare-off, their eyes only inches from one another. Pastor Moore and Joseph sped through the camp, stopping when they reached the men. The pastor put both his hands on their shoulders. He spoke too low for us to hear. Mike turned with a sour face to the pastor, as if to ask, are you sure? The pastor nodded and Mike stepped aside. Tom marched into the armory and laid an empty duffel bag on the ground. He began filling it with ammo and weapons. He took blankets and a little bit of food and water and threw them into a worn out backpack which now sat nearly bursting at his feet.

When he came out he had a long hunting rifle with a large scope attached slung around his back. The barrel of a sawed off shotgun stuck out from the duffel. People began filtering in as Tom quietly talked to the pastor. Joseph moved closer to the men and they all stood around whispering to each other. We watched and waited. The pastor turned to us.

"Tom says there's a small Vesp group near by." The people around me swayed on their feet, each talking over the other. "He's looking for a volunteer, " the pastor announced.

"I need someone who can shoot from afar, " Tom said. "You won't be in danger, I will. I need someone to watch my back."

"Everyone get to packing, " Harry said and spit on the ground. "We're leaving." He took Damen by the arm and began to move to his tent.

"There may be more than the ones I saw, " Tom stepped in his way. "It isn't safe to leave until we're sure. They could be all around this area."

"And what exactly are you planning? You want us to watch your back? What for?"

"They took a lot of people prisoner. I saw them... children-"

"We have children!" Harry shouted. "My boy's right here! I'm not going off into a town I don't know to fight for people I don't know. You wanna start a war, you do it on your own."

Tom laughed. "So ya'll are glad to shed a few tears for a dead boy, but when it comes to trying to save a live one-"

"No need for that Tom, " the pastor said. "There's plenty of room here if you want to stay."

Tom lifted the backpack in his hand and let it hang from one shoulder. He walked across camp toward the Southern exit. The forest spread North for miles, South of us there were only town and cities, all of which would systematically be scoured for food by the Lost.

"What about you?" Tom asked, looking at me from across camp. All eyes drifted in my direction.

"Me?"

"You're what, nineteen?" he asked.

"Eighteen, " I said, feeling small.

"Can you shoot?"

"Not really." Joseph crossed in front of me. "She's a child, " he said. I wanted to argue the point but was shamefully glad for his protest.

"Okay, so you come, " Tom said to him.

"We all have our part to play here. We can't save everyone Tom. We have to look out for our own."

"What do you think I'm doing out there?" Tom looked me in the eye. He turned back to Joseph. "Does she even know? Did you even tell her-"

"Just go, " Joseph interrupted.

"Do I know what?" I asked.

"Forget it Grace, he's a manipulator, " Joseph said.

"I'm a manipulator?" Tom nearly laughed, "You're the one telling her stories and I'm the liar?" he picked up the rifle. "If hiding in the forest is how you all want to live, I hope you know, it's how you're gonna die, " he began to leave.

"What's he talking about? Know what?" I asked Joseph.

"He's full of shit, " he said, but he didn't look at me. I knew Joseph well enough to know that he always made eye contact when he talked to you, just not when he lied. I scanned the crowd, their eyes were half watching me and half trying not to. I knew this feeling well, only it had never been so obvious. All at once it was like all the pieces came together and I knew. I didn't belong here, and everyone but me knew why.

I broke from the crowd, Joseph trailed behind me as I followed Tom. "What don't I know?" I asked him. "Tom!" I screamed. He stopped and turned.

"Grace!" Joseph yelled. I ignored him, my eyes locked on Tom's.

"Tell me, " I said. My heart beat dangerous in my chest.

"I need a second set of eyes on this thing, help me, then I'll tell you."

"I told you I can't shoot, I never learned, " I said.

"I'll teach you."

Joseph grabbed my arm-- I pulled it away. Behind him, the people remained in their spots, all waiting for it to end. None of them willing to take a single step from safety, not for any reason. I saw them as Tom saw them. Weak, hiding, pathetic.

"You don't just want to sit here and hide all your life do you?" Tom asked.

"No, " I said without thinking. "I don't."

I had never walked on paved ground for so long before. The highway seemed to stretch on forever in either direction. Tom walked several feet ahead of me, every now and then he would climb inside one of the more pristine sedans on the road and try to start it. None of them worked, he wasn't surprised, but he kept trying.

I watched the road beneath my feet, feeling the harshness of it with each step. I stopped short when I saw the blood. A single dot, then a long trail. "You carried the boy all this way?" I asked. My shoulders had started to ache from the heavy backpack. I needed a break but I didn't want him to think I was weak. I walked on.

"Uh huh, " he mumbled, lighting another cigarette.

"Are you sure you know how to get back? The camp's pretty well hidden."

"You want to go back?" he didn't turn around, didn't slow down.

"No. Just asking, " I slipped the pack off my shoulders and let it drop.

"What's wrong?" he turned.

"I need a second, sorry." I rested against a rust covered BMW.

"Not here, there's a clearing in the woods across the highway. That's where I'm gonna teach you to shoot."

"Won't they hear us?"

"We're not gonna shoot, I'm just gonna teach you how."

"Oh."

He zig-zagged across the still parade of dead cars, I picked the backpack off the asphalt and hurried to keep up with him. As we walked in silence, I tried not to think about Joseph. Mostly because I didn't know what to think. I was pretty sure he'd been lying to me all my life, though I wasn't exactly certain what the lie was. What I did know is that if it hadn't been for him, my life would have been one of complete solitude, utter isolation.

"Don't go, " Joseph had begged as I was leaving with Tom.

"I have to, " I had told him, and though I felt it was true in every sense, I had only a vague sense of why. It was as if I was suddenly realizing that life could have more meaning than what the pastor created at your funeral. After hearing Tom mention other people in need, strangers who may die if not for us, I realized that simply surviving was only one of many choices I never knew I had. I looked back, watching as the trees that surrounded our camp disappear behind the cars on the highway as we moved down the hill on the other end of the road.

"I liked what you said, " I told Tom as we broke through the new tree line. "No one at the camp ever talks about people outside."

"That's 'cause they don't give a shit." He took a short puff of his cigarette and scanned the trees in every direction, presumably to make sure we were alone.

"Why do you care?" I asked, my feet got caught on fallen sticks as I moved. It was as if all the skills I'd learned about walking quietly had vanished as soon as I had left camp.

He pulled the cigarette from his lips and rubbed it against a tree before throwing the butt on the ground. The cinders swooped into the air, floating like orange stars against a blue sky. Then, one by one they fell and faded to nothing.

"What made you go out the first time?" I asked.

"What's with all the questions?"

"Just wondering. I don't really believe anyone does anything out of the goodness of their hearts."

"That's 'cause you've never seen it."

"So that's why you do it? 'Cause you're good?" I asked. Silence followed.

We finally reached the clearing, Tom slipped the rifle from his shoulder and put it on the grass. He dropped the duffel bag on the ground and pulled at the zipper. He took a piece of chalk from inside and crossed the field to a tree about fifty feet away. He drew an X in the middle of the trunk and walked back to me.

"Alright, Pocahontas let's see you shoot. Pick that up." He pointed to the rifle. I dropped the backpack and took the gun.

"It's really heavy, " I said. All at once I realized just how easy the hunters made it seem.

"That's good, makes you strong." He came up to me and lifted the butt of the gun to my shoulder. I looked through the scope and saw the X floating in and out of view. "Lie down, prone."

"Lie what?"

"On your belly."

I did as I was told. I had always dreamt of being taught to shoot, to hunt. These were the most admirable skills one could attain in our small community, but when we thought of who would be at the other end of the barrel, we always assumed it would be some unfortunate animal.

"I won't have to kill anyone right?"

"You don't think you can?" he asked.

"I don't know, " I said, lifting my eyes from the scope. "Probably not. Maybe. I don't know."

"You probably won't have to. If I get in trouble, just shoot close enough to scare 'em off, " he said. The look he gave me then was the same as the young mother who had taken pity on me about my hurt lip in the camp.

"Who are they? Just some Vesp group or-"

"Bad guys."

"And they killed that boy?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"Are you going back to help the others or just for revenge?"

"Hopefully both, " he said. "Hold your breath, get the target in your sights and gently squeeze the trigger."

I took a big breath and held it as he'd instructed. The white chalk lines stopped swaying in the scope. When the crosshairs matched the center of the X, I squeezed. The gun clicked. A smile crept up on me.

"You're a natural, " he said.

"How do you know? I could have missed."

"I can see it in your face. Alright, we're gonna try it sitting, then kneeling, then standing. When we're done we'll move on to knives and handguns."

"Do we have time for all that?"

"We'll make the time, you need to know it, just in case. These guys don't play around."

"We're losing light."

"We'll camp here, move tomorrow." He got down on one knee and signaled for me to do the same. I did. "Here, this is for you to keep, " he took a butterfly knife from the duffel and handed it to me. I slipped it in my pocket.

"Thanks, " I said, unsure of the etiquette here. "Why did they kill the boy?" I asked.

"They killed his sister first, " he said. "These people aren't workers, they don't grow their own crops. When they run out of food-"

"Stop, " I said. "I think- I think I can do it, " I told him. "I think I can kill."

#

The next morning, Tom woke me just as the sun was starting to burn sharp through the trees in the east. He picked up the backpack and put it on my back as soon as I got up, I nearly toppled over with the weight of it. "You sure we need everything in here?" I asked.

"You like eating food and drinking water don't you?"

"I like being able to move, " I said.

"Blankets are the culprit, but we need them more than we need the food cans. Hypothermia kills in minutes, hunger can take weeks." He picked up the duffel and led the way back to the road. It wasn't more than a few minutes before we saw the exit signs: Harrend, Two Miles. But something had been sprayed over the letters. The closer we got, the clearer it became. "Ours, " it said.

"Vesp claimed it. We'll claim it back."

"Do we want it?" I asked.

"No, but we don't want them to have it."

I could feel the blood in my palms draining. They became cold and clammy. My head spun, my mouth dry as cotton, I was terrified. "When I was little, " I began, hoping that conversation would ease my anxiety. "I used to think all the cannibals were part of the same crew, but they're all different. They're all over the world..."

"That's right, " Tom said, rubbing his thumb over the top of his yellow zippo.

"How come we call them all by the same name?"

"It's not a name, it's a label. Used to be there were these giant hornets in China. All over Asia really. They went 'round basically just killing honeybees for food. Wiped out entire hives in minutes. Vespa Mandarinia they were called."

"So we're the honeybees."

"Not today, " he said, looking down the road to the water tower on the hill.