The Deathless Trilogy

1.1. Find Isla Blume

Twenty-five years after the world ended, and Route 30 is still littered with rusty cars, stopped or toppled from the blast. You'd think things like that would be gone by now, but I can always find evidence that once everything wasn't so hard. Once Prowlers didn't come at night to steal your life away. Once it wasn't dangerous to live.

Since it's just the two of us now, Mom and I make our way to Mountville, the nearby town of survivors where we barter supplies and food. Today we're hoping to trade some ears of corn for soap. We're all out, and the smell is getting unbearable. As we turn onto Main Street, the street lights' tattered American flags flap over plaques that read "United We Stand." Here the cars have been parked on the sides of the street and in driveways for twenty-five years. These people were safe in their homes when the shock wave from the blast hit, knocking our world into disarray.

Just ahead is the barricade between the Mountville community and the rest of us, but it's broken, smashed to pieces in the road. Something is wrong. I realize then that the town guard isn't at their usual post either.

"Mom?" I whisper, the first I've spoken since we left the house this morning. We're always quiet on runs, just in case the Nomads are still around. I've never seen any, but my parents and the Crowleys said they came once when Daniel and I were babies. They said the Nomads even searched our house, and took one of my baby blankets. Why anyone would only steal a baby blanket is beyond me. I always thought my parents just lost the blanket and made up a story about evil travelers, but every time I asked, they insisted it was true; even Eleanor, and she can't lie. Couldn't lie.

Mom unholsters her gun and orders me to do the same. My stomach churns thinking of the weight of a gun in my hand. I haven't held one in years, and I try not to think about that last time I did, when I nearly forgot who I was. I reach to my back pocket for my slingshot, the one Dad carved for me.

"Not your slingshot," Mom whispers, "not now. Take out the gun I packed for you in the bag." Her words carry fear, and they fill me with too much terror to press the issue further. Mountville is never unprotected, that's one of their community promises. She must see how scared I've become, because her face softens and she takes my hand. "I'm sorry, honey, but in case anything happens, you need to be armed. Trust me."

I nod, and she smiles in spite of the uncertainty and fear that surrounds us. She can always make a situation seem better, which I'm certain is the only reason we've been able to survive the past two months without Dad, Daniel, and his parents.

I hurry behind a car for cover and unzip the bag. There, between the corn we planned to trade and a bottle of well water, is Daniel's Enfield revolver. Over the years his sweat marks dulled the wood around the handle, and as I lift it from the bag, I remember how he used to twirl it like a gunslinger when he was bored. I take a deep breath and press my thumb into the indentation his made. It's as close as I can get to holding him again.

I zip the bag shut and throw it back over my shoulders, racing to catch up to Mom.

We cross the split barricade, our steps marked by impossible to avoid bits of broken glass that crackle under our feet. The windows of the cars and homes are shattered, and I dart my eyes around the scene to check for movement. Maybe people like the Nomads are still around, stealing supplies from survivors and murdering those who fight back, and if they are, this feels like a trap. All I want to do is run away, but Mom presses on, so I do too. She knows better, and between us both, she's the only one who knows what she's doing with a gun. If we were examining the pages of a book or gardening, I'd be set. But this is one of those situations Dad always told me I'd have to face one day, and he was right: Knowing how to use a gun is a survival skill I lack. Maybe this is his way of telling me, finally, to grow up and hunt, so I push the gun hammer down with a click and continue.