The After

She fidgeted with the locket she wore around her neck. She opened it, looked at the pictures inside, then closed the locket and stuck it back in the neck of her shirt. Ran her fingers along the chain holding the locket and then pulled it back from her shirt as if the heart shape trinket would be missing.

A dark haired man stepped into the lantern light, the thud of the cellar door clanging behind him. He held out a bottle of water to the young girl.

“What have you got there?” he asked.

She grasped the bottle and shrugged, still refusing to speak. She looked again at the photos inside the locket, closed it and placed it on the inside of her shirt again.

“You remind me of my daughter, she always had to have the newest, prettiest little piece of jewelry. She would mess with the darn thing until it broke and then beg her mother for a new one.”

The girl watched the man, unsure, cautious.

“Did you get that from your mother?” he asked.

She nodded.

“Where is she now?” he asked absentmindedly. When he looked up he saw the tears beginning to well in the corner of her eyes.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

He took a sip from his bottle of water, replaced the lid and set it aside. He pulled his backpack onto his lap and began to rummage through it.

“What would you like to eat? I have some corn, looks like beets and a seriously dented can of pears?” He held all three cans out to the young girl.

She watched him with trepidation. She touched the can of pears and recoiled quickly in fear.

“Okay, pears it is.” He pulled a knife from his pocket, slammed it into the top of the can and cut a jagged hole in the top. He placed the can a foot in front of the girl, giving her room to retrieve it for herself.

The girl snatched the can from the dirty concrete floor and began shoveling the pears into her small mouth. The sticky juices flowing down her cheeks and chin without a care.

The man picked up the can of beets and stabbed the top with the knife, wrenching the lid open.

“Figure I’ll eat the beets since no kid likes beets.”

The girl stops guzzling the pears to watch the man pick a beet out of the can and deposit it on his tongue. He winced at the taste, but still chewed and swallowed.

She giggled.

“What’s so funny?”

She cleared her throat and looked down at the can of pears. He took another beet and tossed it in the air, catching it in his mouth like a circus performer for the little girl.

“It’s okay. You’re safe.”

She glanced up at him and smiled sheepishly, then continued devouring the pears.

My name is Jake, what’s yours?”

The girl took another fist full of pears as the juices coated her already filthy hand. The world had been unkind to the young girl. Her skin was coated in a grayish-black layer of dirt and grime. Her clothes, a size or two too big, were ripped at the seams and barely held onto her emaciated frame.

Jake looked back down at his can of beets, attempting to eat another vapid cold piece of vegetable that anybody in the right mind would normally throw by the wayside, but in this day and age, any food you could come by, you held onto dearly.

She whispered something, too quiet to hear, but still an audible whimper.

Jake looked up from his can.

“Emily,” she repeated a decibel louder than the first.

Jake smiled at her, nodded and took another bite of his beets as Emily took the last slurps of pear and juices straight into her mouth.

“What was her name?” Emily whispered.

“I’m sorry?”

“Your daughter. What was her name?” she repeated.

Jake set his can of vegetables down on the concrete floor, rubbed his red fingers along his jeans and watched Emily. She seemed innocent. Too innocent for this evil world in which she now resided. She clearly was from the time most called “The After”. He, was not.

“Amelia. But we called her Mia.”

Emily smiled. “They called me Emma.” She looked down at the cans of food as soon as she replied, her brow furrowed. He could see the pain she was hiding.

“Mia had long blonde hair like yours, well not as bright as yours, but very long. And she was such a loud mouth, she would talk back to everyone, but it was very mature. So much so that you would feel like you did something wrong, even though you had originally been the one scolding her.” Jake shook his head as he recounted the memory.

“What happened to her?” Emily asked innocently.

Jake cleared his throat, pulled a wrinkled graying photograph from his pocket and placed it on the floor within Emily’s reach. She picked up the picture. It was of a short woman, with long blonde hair, who was beautiful; a small girl, not much older than Emily, about ten, also blonde; and an older boy, clearly grumpy being asked to take a photograph, with sandy blonde hair and is almost as tall as the woman in the photo.

“This is my family. We were happy; we lived out in the prairies when it happened-when the bombs fell-when the world changed. I was away. I worked out on the ocean so when the attacks began I wasn’t with them. But I sought them out when I heard the news. There weren’t any big towns closeby, so I figured they would have hunkered down and stayed safe. But I was wrong.”

Emily scooted herself forward towards Jake, captivated by his miserable tale. His tale of “The Before”.

“What was it like?”

Jake, surprised, looked up at Emily.

“You mean The Before?”

She nodded.

“It was amazing,” Jake couldn’t hold back his excitement for telling of his past, his love of life. “Kids, like you, went to school to learn writing, reading, and math. I went off to the oil fields or the rigs; meanwhile my wife would stay home and take care of the kids. We would take them to the park on my days off and have picnics, watch them swing and run wild while she read and I would just be in love with everything. Sometimes I can shut my eyes and dream about that time.”

Emily regarded Jake amazed at his excitement. She couldn’t remember a time when someone, anyone in her lifetime, was ever excited about anything as much as he was describing his past life.

“Do you want to tell me about your mother?”

Emily looked down again, unsure.

“It’s okay if you don’t, but sometimes it’s easier to remember when you speak of them.”

“The walls were shaking and the roof started falling, she was trapped. I couldn’t see her face, but I could hold her hand. She gave me her locket the day she died. It has my picture in it and I can remember her with it even though the picture is not her. I just wish I could put her picture next to mine.”

“I know what you mean about missing them. I never saw my family again. I would give anything to see them just one more time. Just to hold their hands, cradle my wife, kiss my children, but I cannot. I know that I will eventually see them again, but right now I’m needed in this world. Needed for something more.”

The floor shook beneath them and dust floated from the ceiling above. Emily jumped from her spot across from Jake and collapsed in his arms, cowering in his lap.

“It’s okay sweetheart,” Jake said stroking her hair.

“When will it happen?”

“Nothing will happen to us. We are safe here. This bunker is made for this type of attack.”

“My mother lived in something like this. She died in a place like this.”

“I won’t let that happen,” Jake cradled Emily as tears began to stream down her cheeks dampening his already dirty and stained shirt.

The walls shook again. Jake slid Emily from his lap and pushed the lantern into her hands.

“I’m just going to take a quick look outside, you stay here.”

Emily had begun to cry, the tears flowing freely. She gripped his calf as he tried to climb the small set of stairs leading to the steel cellar doors.

“Please don’t go!”

“I’m not going anywhere without you. I’m just going to see what is going on.”

Jake pushed the doors open, the light from the fading sun blinding him at first, until his eyes adjusted to the outside world. The ground shook as the bombs fell in the distance, plumes of smoke rose from every building and structure left standing. The outside world was pure devastation, nothing of substance was left besides boulders and chunks of concrete from buildings that once stood, destroyed vehicles that haven’t moved in years and burned bodies of the fallen.

Jake pulled the doors shut once again and climbed back down the stairs to Emily.

“We’re not safe here.”

Emily nodded, tears leaving clean streaks on her dirty cheeks. She wiped her snotty nose with the back of her hand. Jake held his hand out to her.

“If we leave now we might be able to get away from the bombs. Care to come with me?”

Emily stared at his hand, unmoving. Contemplating.

Another bomb dropped closer, pieces of the ceiling chipped and fell around the two. Jake’s hand still reaching out for Emily, her only refuge, trying not to leave her.

Emily gripped Jake’s hand and he pulled her up into his arms, turned and sprinted up the steps and out of their shelter. Emily buried her face in his shoulder, shielding her eyes from the bright sunlight and the black smoke.

Jake continued straight toward the bombing, knowing that if he can just get past the most recent explosion that they should be fine, that they can hunker down again and wait it out.

The earth shook with a tremendous force, Jake’s feet searched for the earth beneath him to no avail. Emily clung to his shirt as the two flew through the air. At the last second, Jake turned his shoulder and collided with the ground, protecting Emily from certain injury. His shoulder ripped from its socket and the side of his face skidded along the gravel beneath them .

Jake grunted as he tried to roll over.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Emily nodded, beginning to cry again. Jake tried to stand, but collapsed under the pain in his legs. His pant leg was ripped to shreds exposing the torn skin and muscles.

Jake lay still for a bit, the bombing had subsided. Emily still crying held his hand as he faded in and out of consciousness.

“Is it over?” Emily asked.

Jake opened his eyes, squeezed her hand, and listened. He heard the hum, the faint hum of an engine, the engine of another plane.

“Yes, it’s okay.” He squeezed her hand again.

“Are you going to be okay? You’re not going to leave me are you?”

“I’m going to be fine. Everything is going to be okay. Why don’t we rest for just a minute more and then we can continue.”

Emily nodded and nuzzled into Jake’s arms. She fidgeted with the heart shaped locket as Jake pulled her close, trying to protect her one last time.

“I’m not going anywhere, I’m staying right here. I will never leave you.”

He heard the whistle. She looked up at the sky. Jake took her hand that was gripping the locket in his.

“Show me your picture.”

Emily smiled and opened it. Then the world went black.