Anywhere but Here

“If you don’t shut up about bloody fucking arctic bears in the next five seconds, I swear I’m going to leave you. For real this time.”

“Polar bears,” he corrects. “And sor-ry for having more than two working brain cells. Not everyone’s hobbies are looting, hunting and bossing me around, you know. Here, look. I’ll show you how cool they were-”

He shrugs his backpack down from his shoulder.

“You fucking idiot!” She reaches over and slaps his hand away from the zip. “Don’t take that book out here, it might catch alight!” She scoffs, “And your dumbass has the balls to call me stupid.”

Because Will is so incredibly – infuriatingly - smart she often forgets that he’s only twelve. Like, he can remember any page from any book he’s read word for word after only reading it once. Whereas she, five years his senior, can’t even find the patience to finish a single damn chapter. She’d think it unfair if they weren’t in this shit together.

The sole sound of rubber soles scuffing against dry concrete - from shoes slightly too big from him, but the best she could find - isn’t enough to lift the sudden heavy blanket of silence.

“You wouldn’t really leave me, would you, Eve?”

Evelyn’s head whips to the side. If he were any quieter, she wouldn’t have heard him.

Will’s not looking at her though. Forcibly refusing to, in fact, going by the way his chin is tucked into his chest as he stares at the cake of dirt on the toes of his boots.

She stops. Dropping the metal pot she’s carrying on the ground, she frowns at his back. “Look at me.”

As soon as he turns, she leaps. Wrapping an arm around his neck, she wrestles him into a headlock.

“Oi!”

Chuckling, she rubs her gloved fist into his hoody-covered head. “You really are a dumbass if you have to ask that.”

Managing to squirm free, he jumps back. After tugging his hood forward, he grumbles as he adjusts his dark sunglasses and the neck gaiter covering his nose and mouth too.

Behind her own similar face covering, a smile tugs at Evelyn’s lips when she sees his back straighten and his chin jutting out at her. Despite feeling barely able to look after herself, there’s nothing she wouldn’t do for her little brother. She can’t lose him too. She won’t.

“Bitch.”

Her smile vanishes. “Ey! Watch your language.”

Bending down, she picks up the pot by one of its handles and swings it towards him. “Here, instead of reciting one-hundred and one bleedin’ pointless facts, you can make yourself actually useful and help me carry this.” Tutting under his breath, Will latches on to the other handle. “And don’t roll your eyes at me.”

His head snaps up. “You can’t even see my eyes.”

“I don’t need to. Now c’mon, we’re almost there.”

Treading softly over the cracked pavement, Evelyn listens carefully. The warm breeze that teases her clothes also finds a tin can. It clinks as it bounces along the road, rolling down the street towards them.

Among the same few cars sitting, rusted and abandoned, on the sides of the road, the same shop windows are smashed and the same house doors kicked in.

It fills Evelyn with a moment of relief. Everything looks as it should. Nevertheless, her eyes scan each window, high and low that they walk by. Because, out of all the things her mum told her, ‘You can either be careful or dead’, are words she’s chosen to stick by. Rather that, than bullshit like ‘Don’t take more than we need,’ or ‘Don’t be too hard on William,’ or ‘Don’t cry for me when I’m gone.’

As they make their way past the old corner shop, the crack of brittle glass under their boots fills the air, breaking the silence. They both glance inside the shattered window and are not surprised to find the shelves broken and bare.

Evelyn knows there’s no point climbing in and checking it out further. Mostly because she’s looted all these buildings at least once already. If there was anything left, she’s already taken it. Either way, today they’re not here for food.

They can just about hear the soft trickling of water when a crash thunders behind them.

Will shrieks and Evelyn whips around, drawing her knife out of her belt in one fluid movement. Only to falter.

She catches the glimpse of a furry orange tail just before it disappears behind an overturned and gently rocking dustbin.

Evelyn bites down on her lip but it’s not enough to stop the bubbling snickers from escaping.

Will bristles beside her. “Hey! You were scared too!”

She sheathes her knife, a smirk curving her lips. “At least I didn’t scream like a girl.”

“I did not!”

“Did too.”

Will shoves her, but it does little more than make her stumble.

Evelyn laughs and when that pisses him off even more, her cheeks start to ache with the uncontrollable smile that plasters itself on her face.

Honestly, if her life weren’t funny, it wouldn’t be worth living and unfortunately, that’s not an option.

With no more false alarms but plenty of sulking, they soon reach the river that runs through the village.

Right where she left it last time, Evelyn picks up a long metal pole. It’s easily over double the length of her and rusted up to a point. She spears it into the water and pushes it down until she feels the resistance of the bed.

Evelyn frowns. The water rises above the line of rust. “It’s getting higher,” she murmurs. “That’s roughly five centimetres in a month.” She turns to Will. He balls his hands into fists and shoves them into his jeans’ pockets. Evelyn sighs. “We’re gonna have to move so-”

“No!”

Evelyn pulls the pole out of the water and tosses it on the ground. It hits the pavement with a clatter and steam already begins to rise off it. “Okay, so what’s your plan then, huh? You building an ark in the back garden that I don’t know about? You’d best be, ‘cause soon enough the next storm surge is going to drown us if we stay.”

“But, mum-”

“Would want us to survive,” she snaps. “We can’t do that if we don’t move inland.” She throws her arms out. “Look around, Will. Everyone that was here knew they were fucked so they left. The east is as good as gone.”

He kicks the ground. “I don’t want to leave.”

“Me neither, but we don’t have a choice.” She sighs, lowering her voice, “Look, we’ll worry about it later. For now, just go on and get some new books, you nerd,” she says pushing him in the direction of the bookshop across the road.

“Two cans of beans says I’ll find one on arks.”

Evelyn laughs. “You’re on.”

Shaking her head, she crouches down and after taking the lid off the pot, she sinks it into the river. Once full, she heaves it out and sets it on the ground. After placing the lid back on, she sits back with a sigh.

“What’re you doing out here all by yourself?”

Fear clenches its white-knuckled grip around her heart. Tensing, she doesn’t make any sudden movements as she turns around slowly.

The low hoarse voice belongs to a tall, wiry bearded man. Wrinkled, dirty clothes hang loosely off his lean frame but to her shock, nothing covers his face. The patchwork of dark lumps and scaly textures that scar his skin has her throat tightening unexpectedly at the unforgettably familiar sight. For a moment, she expects to meet soft blue eyes, but when dark brown ones stare back at her, reality smothers that small flicker of hope.

“Say, you got any food in that bag of yours?” the man asks, limping closer towards her.

Evelyn scrambles backwards and her eyes widen when she notices that he isn’t wearing any shoes. That’ll be why she didn’t hear him approach. The dry, cracked skin on his feet is red raw and blistering. How he’s even able to stand she doesn’t know.

“No.”

He frowns. “I only want a little bit. Please, I’m starving.”

“I said I haven’t got any.”

“Please,” he begs. “I’ve got nothing.”

She spies Will slinking out of the bookshop over the man’s shoulder, tiptoeing towards them. Panic lances through her. She scrambles to her feet. “Stay back!”

A frown tugs at the man’s brows. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

Her eyes flit from Will to the man’s face.

Movement catches her eye again. “Don’t!”

Will ignores her, rushing forward with a shrill cry.

Flinching, the man turns but he isn’t quick enough. A gasp is punched out of his chest like Will’s robbed him of his breath.

Will jumps back as the man reaches towards him with an outstretched hand.

“Will!”

Will’s eyes dart from the man to her. Tremors wrack his small frame. He follows her gaze to his white-knuckled grip where he clenches a blood-soaked knife and suddenly, he can’t drop it quick enough.

The man staggers towards Will who screams.

Unthinkingly, Evelyn darts forward. Tugging her blade out of her belt, she brings it down in a swift arch. It plunges deep into the side of his neck.

The man collapses to his knees, choking and spluttering.

Darting around him, Evelyn rushes over to frozen Will and pulls him away and into a tight hug. “Are you okay?”

He doesn’t reply.

She grabs his face and forces him to look at her. “Grab the pot and go. I’ll catch up.”

For once he does what she says without arguing. Nodding and almost kicking the pot over in his haste, he grabs it and starts running back the way they came.

Evelyn can’t help the tightening of her shoulders as she turns back to the man.

The taupe colour of his shirt disappears before her eyes as it devours the deep maroon of his blood.

Cautiously, she kneels beside him.

“I’m-” he coughs. She leans closer, trying to understand his gurgling words. She owes him that much. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”

I’m sorry too. Her words stick to the back of her throat like tar. They burn her throat as she swallows them down.

It’s not long until she witnesses the moment he leaves.

No matter how hard she steeled herself, nothing could prepare her for seeing the small unexpecteded wisp of a smile on his lips.

Swallowing hard, Evelyn pats him down with shaking hands, checking his pockets. She finds nothing. Wait…. Feeling a small bump in the pocket of his trousers, she reaches inside. It feels like a big smooth button, but when she pulls it out, it turns out that it’s not a button at all.

It’s a heart-shaped pendant and looks practically polished with how brightly the silver metal glints in the sunlight. He must’ve played with it a lot.

Wait. Evelyn blinks. No way. Could it be real silver? That’s gotta be valuable.

She brings it closer and spots a clasp. With the slightest amount of pressure, it opens with a quiet click. Inside, wedged into a frame sits a small pencil drawing of three stickmen of different heights. Arrows sit above their heads with the words, ‘Mum,’ ‘Dad,’ and, ‘Me.’

Evelyn snaps the locket shut.

Life is unfair.

Reaching over, she tucks the locket back inside his pocket.

Numbly climbing to her feet, she crosses the street to the bookstore and blindly grabs the first few books she sees. Returning to him, she flicks open the books and nestles them close to his body. Taking a step back, she opens her rucksack and pulls out a box of matches. After striking one alight, she tosses it onto one of the books. It bursts into flames.

So why isn’t she used to it by now?