Cascadia

10. On the Road

Where the fuck is everyone? was Keana's first thought when she woke up that morning. The realization that it hadn't all been just some terrible dream weighed heavily on her mind. So many unexplained disappearances nagged at her. Not having any answers bothered her even more.

Keana sat on the edge of her bed, unable to do much beyond stare at the unfolded laundry piled up on Sunflower's side of the room. A moist pressure pushed against her eyes. She missed her mom. Knowing she wouldn't find Sunflower down at the old cedar tree, or in some stranger's bed, was enough to bring tears to her eyes. It was time to face the facts. Her mother was gone. Elysium was gone. The only person she had left to depend on was herself.

She picked up the little plastic bong resting on her dresser and took a long hit of whatever blackened remnants were left in the bowl, blowing out a giant cloud of smoke. She dressed for the day in a pair of green cargo pants and an oversized Bob Marley t-shirt that belonged to her mother before heading downstairs.

Everything was silent and still, just as it was the night before. Her perfectly rolled joints were still lying on the dinner table, and her dishes remained untouched beside the sink. She made a quick breakfast of black coffee and toast slathered with huckleberry jam for herself before feeding Grimm a few strips of homemade jerky from the pantry. There was comfort in routine, and Keana went about her usual morning chores, desperate to find a sense of normalcy.

            But there was no normalcy to be found. Once her chores were finished, she was again left alone with the eerie silence haunting each room she entered, until she could no longer stand it. Perhaps someone in town would have answers. Determined to find out, she went about filling a backpack with spare clothes, a first-aid kit, a hydro flask filled with icy water, and two large freezer bags – one full of jerky, and the other, trail mix. She placed her joints into an empty mint tin and slipped them into the front pocket of her jeans. Last, but not least, she grabbed the hunting knife she'd found in the woods and tucked it into her waistband before heading out the front door where Grimm sat waiting, as if he could read her mind and somehow knew she'd be leaving, and he certainly wasn't willing to let her go off without him.

            The driveway was long and windy, nearly a quarter mile of dirt and rock lined by maple, larch, and tamarack in the early stages of transformation to a golden, autumnal shade. The birds chirped pretty songs and the squirrels perched onto the sides of trees to keep a watchful eye. Grimm ambled alongside her, occasionally disappearing into the brush for several minutes before returning to her side with eyes bright and tongue protruding. She passed beyond the rickety wooden fence marking the edge of the property and headed down the packed-dirt service road toward civilization.

            The persistent anxiety of not knowing what was happening drove her every step. If she could make it into town, she figured she might be able to find someone who could help. Assuming there was anyone left to be found, of course. The idea that she might be caught up in some type of apocalyptic rapture scenario did not escape her young imagination.

            The sun had reached the midpoint in the sky by the time she reached the highway, having stopped only once to rest her aching feet and munch on a light snack. Her calves ached as she walked along the shoulder of the highway while Grimm ran on ahead, darting back and forth across the empty road whenever he spotted anything of interest to sniff out or to pee on. There was no traffic to be seen, which only fed the fire of her anxiety. She had miles to go before reaching the nearest town. At the rate she was currently going, it would be dark before she reached the city limits.

            Someone will come by, she assured herself. Eventually.

            A rumble in the distance grabbed the dog's attention. Following his gaze, Keana spotted the gleaming silver vehicle speeding down the highway toward her. She planted her feet on the roadside gravel and stuck out her thumb in the international sign for 'please give me a ride.'