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Until the girls started disappearing. Friends of mine, or women I had gone to school with.
Whispers about a neighbor’s missing daughter echoed through the near-empty grocery store. All twenty-something-year-old women, pretty, and hopefully viable.
Rumors swirled, talk of a black market that captured and impregnated young women. Once born, the babies were leveraged by the men for bartering. Because that’s all they were at this point. A bargaining chip. An opportunity to claw your way to the surface.
I was not about to be treated like cattle, no better than a damn incubator. So when push came to shove, I ran. I found my clearing and my well, and set up camp. It wasn’t much, but it was safe.
Using my light, I started a small fire with the kindling I had cut last night. It was half full, something else to add to the list of reasons I really needed to haul my ass to town.
Shit. I was hoping I’d be able to drag it out for a few more days, but I was crap at starting fires without my lighter, and the mornings were so damn cold. I couldn’t afford to be without it for a day. I also really wasn’t looking forward to losing my lighter.
Yeah, at the end of the day it was just a stupid lighter, but this one was special. This one brought back memories ofbefore.
I rubbed my thumb over the long-gone Florida baseball logo – one that reminded me of spring breaks, sandy feet, and salty hair. A worn emblem of a team that no longer existed, and a city that no longer mattered.
My fire sparked, the dry wood catching flame quickly, but my half-empty lighter worried me. “You just have to be a big girl, Mila. Clean yourself up, get yourself to town, get your supplies, and get out. Easy.” My voice was raspy, rough from a lack of use. I chewed a granola bar from my rations, waiting for my water to warm up so I could scrub the weeks of dirt off my skin.
The woods could be lonely sometimes, but it was better than the city. I could head south, toward an unofficial “trading market” set up by people like me – people who had fled the cities – but the chances they had what I needed was hit or miss.
No, it was better to risk the city, as much as I wanted to stay away. Lighters, a sleeping bag, and boots. And I really needed to grab a different flavor granola bar while I was there too. I was fucking sick of peanut butter.
With the water finally boiled, I dug up one of my cleaner washcloths, and stripped off my sweatshirt and long-sleeve shirt. It had been a while since my last “bath,” but the effort it took to dry off in the cold didn’t make it worth it often.
In the city, many people still had running water, and I would stand out with my grime-covered face.
I pulled my tangle of dark hair away from my face, tying it up with a bit of string I had fashioned into a ponytail. The hot water made me shiver in the damp morning, but it was still a pleasant feeling as I ran the cloth over my arms. I smiled, closing my eyes and imagining my hand was the gentle touch of a lover instead of my own, caressing my skin, pulling feelings out of my body I wasn’t sure existed anymore…
Then I laughed, the sound bouncing off the trees that edged my clearing. The idea of me ever having a lover again was hilarious and improbable. Men wanted women for one thing, and one thing only, these days. A baby they could trade away. Running water, a roof over their head, and a warm meal made people do crazy things.
But I was alive, and I was free. I didn’t need a man, or a woman, to deal with my sexual needs. Besides, sex wasn’t exactly at the top of my list of priorities. Survival was number one, followed closely by food, and a good night’s sleep.
“Get your head on straight,” I muttered to myself. I needed to focus on my trip to the city, not think about sex. Satisfied with my cleanliness, I tossed my sweatshirt back on, and then stripped off my jeans. I scrubbed my legs until they were red, then threw my jeans back on.
I was fed, presentable, and ready for the dangers of the city. I hoped.
I stepped back inside my tent. Stacks of books lined the walls. The one good thing about the Collapse was all the time I had to read. I tried to sneak into the library whenever I could – when I felt safe. It wasn’t often, but it was enough to satisfy my urge for words. I didn’t care what I read. Fantasy, romance, self-help, self-defense... the only genre I avoided was dystopian. For good reason.
I grabbed my backpack, checked my water bottles to make sure they were still full, tossed in some granola bars, and counted my dwindling ripped dollars. Money only went so far these days.
Commodities went for much more.
The world had quickly switched to a system of trade, and unless I upped my hunting game, I had nothing to offer. The money would have to be enough. The thrift store might be my only option, but it was still better than nothing. I double-knotted my shoelaces, and set off through the forest.
The city was in the opposite direction from my abandoned farmhouse, so it was a longer walk in the woods than on roads, but I didn’t mind.
The forest filled with evergreens gave me lots of places to hide if I came across people I didn’t know. Unfortunately, this was the way my brain had to work now. Constantly thinking ahead, making sure I had a plan for everything. It was the only way to guarantee my freedom, and if I didn’t have my independence, I had nothing. It helped that my survival skills weren’t limited to knowing edible berries.
I could incapacitate someone, if I needed to. Even kill. My books helped me, and after the horrors I witnessed, you could never be too prepared.
The forest was quiet, even though it was late enough for the birds to be awake by now. Most of the wildlife had died off when we lost our major crops. It made my hunting difficult, to say the least. That’s what I told myself anyway, again and again, when I failed to bring home a rabbit or a squirrel.
The morning shifted into afternoon, and I stopped to eat a granola bar.Fucking peanut butter.Even oatmeal would be better than peanut butter, day in and day out. On the other hand, I was lucky enough to be eating regularly. But still. Peanut butter?
I rolled my eyes and stuffed the empty wrapper back into my backpack – the world was enough of a disaster without my litter contributing to the problem. I continued my hike through the silent woods, my footfalls the only sound.
The sun began to sink, the light dimming in the forest. Just before nightfall, I hit the edge of land where the trees began to thin.Perfect. My timing gave me an opportunity to set up camp safely, and then continue into the city at first light.
I hummed quietly to myself as I looked around for a tree I could sleep in semi-comfortably. I didn’t want to risk a hammock, not this close to the outside world. I needed to secure higher ground.
