The Drifter and the Lost

The heat came off the broken pavement in waves, radiating as it bounced back. The stench of the decaying surroundings wafted into their noses as they walked deeper and deeper into the desolate streets. The silence was pierced by the sudden sound of low flying jets, making the young woman jump. The male flinched lightly but continued on the path he'd memorized years ago.

He wasn't sure how the trees had overgrown, but the neighborhood was beginning to look like a jungle. The scatter of vermin caught his attention, and he pulled the rifle from his back. Stopping in his wake, the woman paused behind him as well. She held her hands to her chest as if in prayer, terrified of what might be lurking in the shadows.

A deep breath in, he waited. The shot echoed as the thud of the carcass hit the ground. The path now set for the animal, he replaced the rifle over his shoulder. The girl squeaked as she jogged to catch up quickly. He sighed heavily through his dark makeshift mask that covered the lower half of his face.

The drifter was dressed in dark wash leather pants, old and worn. The dingy white cotton shirt was covered with plaid flannel. The combat boots were well worn. With a knife on his thigh, gun at his hip, and rifle on his back- he was intimidating. Only able to see his deep green eyes, the girl was stunned the moment he looked at her.

The young woman, early twenties at best, was hiding in the abandoned subway. The drifter had killed a few thieves as he made his way through the city before he heard the whimpers of the brunette. She was dressed in ripped jeans and a tattered button-up that had been ripped from her body. In her hands was something metal, the sheen catching his eye.

"I'll give it to you," she said as she sat curled in the corner. "If you'll let me travel with you." She leaned against the wall, legs shaking from fear, "take it." Extending her hand, she opened her palm. A golden, heart-shaped locket stared back at him.

Turning his back on her, she went to shout at him, but he suddenly spoke, "Keep it," his voice was gravelly and deep. "If you can keep up," his gaze was cast over his shoulder, "then come on."

He saw her soft blue eyes light with life at that exact moment. He stalked away as she hurried to keep up. That was over a month ago. They've been traveling together, mostly in silence. She asked hundreds of questions, while he asked three:

Your name: Hannah

Your age: 23

Family: Dead

Hannah, a twenty-three-year-old beauty from the former state of Kansas, had lost her family five years ago. The only thing she had was that locket. The men he had killed had found her in a small group traveling across what used to be Texas. They managed to separate her from the group, threatening to kill her if she didn't hand over the valuable trinket. She refused, and they left her locked in the bathroom to search for something to tie her up with.

That was how he found her. Jacob was his name. One of the few things she had managed to find out from him. He was thirty and originally from Texas, never traveling far from his home. He was relatively quiet, which bothered Hannah- at first. She was learning to read him but just his eyes. His eyes told stories where his mouth seemed to fail him.

Their latest adventure had brought them to a deserted housing community. The local pool was empty, gunite cracked with weeds and ivy growing freely. Jacob crouched near the fallen deer, surveying the meat. A clean kill. They'd be able to dry the meat and live off of it for weeks. The fur would catch a pretty penny at the next trade post they came across.

Lifting the body over his shoulders, Jacob told Hannah, "We're almost there," she moved to stand beside him, and he looked down at her. "There's a generator."

Jacob chuckled at the excited sparkle in her eyes as he began to walk away. Over the time they've spent together, he's grown fond of the woman. Hannah could say the same about Jacob. He's protected her. He's shown her kindness in a world full of death and destruction. Hannah has shown Jacob that it's okay to show emotions. After living in solitude for so long, Jacob wondered if he even had a heart.

The house in the distance stood the sturdiest of them all. The secondary fence was obviously built after the war. Jacob took his hand off the hooves of the deer and pulled keys from his pocket. Hannah took the keys, causing the briefest of touches to happen between the two. Hannah dispersed the thoughts before using the key to unlock the large gate.

Hannah held the gate open for Jacob before closing and locking it. Hannah watched Jacob climb the steps of the porch. His body protested as he dropped the carcass on the cracked concrete. Hannah's blue eyes scanned the home, simple and one story. The green paint faded and chipped.

"Hannah," the low timbre of his voice was always soothing to her. She snapped her head to him. "The keys."

She fumbled with the keys as she walked closer. Then, nearly stumbling up the steps, she gasped loudly as Jacob caught her against his chest.

"Sorry, Jacob," she rushed out. "Here," she quickly pulled away and extended the keys to him.

Behind the black fabric, Jacob held a frown as he took the keys from Hannah. "Just be careful," he said casually.

Jacob shoved the key into the lock and kicked the door open. Hannah followed after him with a gleeful feeling inside her chest. Jacob moved quickly through the house as Hannah tried to keep up. The backdoor was yanked open, the sunlight filling the small kitchen and dining room.

The grass was tall, making Jacob pull his knife from his thigh as he waded towards the generator. Finally clearing enough space, he pulled the chain to start the diesel-powered engine. Hannah watched everything unfold as Jacob worked. As he pulled his mask down, he looked back to Hannah. His lips moved into a barely-there smile.

"I'll start bringing water in from the well," he pointed over his shoulder, "Dad put it in before he died," he paused for a moment, "he was always worried about being prepared."

Hannah gave Jacob a sad smile. It was one of the first personal things he's ever told her. So this was his family's home. He grew up here.

Nodding, Hannah asked, "What do you want me to do?"

A teasing look spread across his features, "Think you can start a fire on the stove? It's gas."

Jacob loved watching her lips as she pouted, "I'm not an idiot," she huffed. "I'll get it started."

Jacob trudge in and out of the house, filling the fifty-gallon drum that was in the kitchen. He was happily surprised to find Hannah boiling the first pot he had brought in. Next, the fridge slowly filled with gallon jugs of sanitized water. Once the drum was full, Jacob closed and locked them inside.

"That's enough for drinking," he directed as he wiped his brow clean of sweat. "If you keep boiling it, I'll fill the tub so you can have a hot bath."

Hannah stood still for a moment, watching the water bubble as it scalded. "You deserve a hot bath too, Jacob," she slowly looked over to gauge his reaction.

There was a slightly endearing look in his soft eyes. "You first," was all he said as he moved about the house again. Hannah sighed but continued to fill the smaller buckets with the cleaned water.

After a very awkward exchange in the hallway, they were both clean with fresh clothes. Sitting on the couch and poking at her dinner Jacob cooked, Hannah mulled over what to talk about. They were in the home Jacob grew up in, and she wanted to ask questions. There were a few pictures, but nothing that gave away any information about his parents or apparent brother.

Her fingers idly twiddled her locket as she stared towards the broken TV. Jacob tilted his head slightly as he looked at her. She would always mess with the locket when she was nervous or lost in thought. Slowly, Jacob reached for her. His fingers brushed hers, and she snapped from her daze. Taking hold of the locket, he inspected it.

"It was my mother's," her voice was far away, lost in a distant memory. "She gave it to me before she died. She wanted me to replace their pictures with mine and my husband's one day."

Her smile was timid as she lifted her hands again, capturing Jacob's. Hannah opened the locket, the empty spaces staring back at those heavy green eyes. He was conflicted. Lost in his own world. Thoughts drifting from the past, present, and even future.

Jacob lifted his eyes, "Your mother still believed in such things after everything." He didn't phrase it as a question. Instead, it was a statement filled with disbelief.

Smiling lightly, Hannah said, "Of course," she almost scoffed at him as he moved his hands away. "I do too." Her admission was peaceful, but Jacob knew he heard her correctly.

"Hannah," he saw the tears well as she hung her head, "I'm. Not deserving of-"

"Who said you get to decide?" She had never spoken to him so sternly. "I know we've only known each other for six weeks, but- dammit!" She groaned as she stood up. Jacob watched as she paced the floor. "I've never had anyone be so patient with me. So tender and kind. You saved me," she spun around as Jacob touched her shoulder. "You saved me." She repeated as she stepped closer.

Uncertainty etched Jacob's ordinarily stoic face as Hannah peered up at him. Then, allowing emotions to win, Jacob closed the distance. His hand settled against her cheek, and Hannah nuzzled into it. She bit her lip as they both began to move closer and closer. The distance closing between their faces.

"Hannah," his voice was huskier than usual, "Are you sure?" It was crazy to him. Finding love in a world like this. Happy endings don't exist anymore. Life wasn't some fairy tale.

With a cheesy grin, Hannah nodded, "I want to put your picture in here, Jacob."

Snorting at her comment, Jacob finally pressed his lips to hers. Whatever fears that filled their hearts were washed away at that very moment. Unconventional as it may be, they had found something within one another that day Jacob saved Hannah from those fiends. Their hearts had begun to beat as one at some point in their short time together.

In the end, it was a locket that brought them together. And a locket that made them one.