Those Who Wander

My thumb ran over the familiar metal at my neck. The heart-shaped locket was once pristine. Small, silver, with simple engravings along the point of the heart that may have once been leaves. Now the locket was covered in scratches and tiny bite marks that I was told were my fault – from chewing on it as a teething baby. The inside was empty, perhaps waiting to be filled or to never be. Time had seen that the markings were indistinguishable. Much like the rest of the world.

No one I had met knew what happened for sure. That information has been lost to us. Some say fire, some say floods, some say war. I suppose it does not matter anymore. Nearly everything from the old world is gone, reclaimed by nature. My locket survived, a few stories, not much else.

When the world changed people formed small clans that became family. Nothing was more important than those few people who were yours. Unfortunately, there were not enough resources left for larger clans and so what small clans there were fought for what little remained.

My clan was like that, now what was left of us were always moving. Nowhere was safe for long.

Warrick was our leader and he was supposed to keep us alive. He decided where we went – when we went. Before Warrick led us, we had a home. It was near the mountains, next to a spring. Winters were harsh and Summers were blistering, but the mountains seemed golden in the evening light. We were always defending the village from large animals who smelled our food and other human clans who wanted our home for themselves.

We lost many. When Warrick, who was young and inspiring, spoke about how being stationary attracted more trouble than it was worth; “There is not enough of us to build anything permanent and keep it,” it made sense. Many disagreed with him, we had access to drinking water and the land was good for crops. It was as close to paradise as there was. I wanted to see what else was out there, so I followed him when he left. Only Jun and Gala, brother and sister, came with us. Those that stayed were smarter than I was.

Every single person I cared for was lost defending the village. I had to leave before I joined them. But now I would die here, alone, and not for anything. We ran out of water two days ago and food three days before that.

“Alis,” Gala called to me. “Do you have any water left?”

“Still no.” We would not last much longer without it. This was a mistake. I never should have left. There is nothing out here but death. “Warrick,” I called to the man that had led us for months. “We need to go home.”

He stopped, “If you want to go, no one is stopping you.”

“We all need to go. Find food and water and then we need to go home.”

“Don’t you remember what it was like? Fighting every day just to die where our families died?”

“And out here is any better? We can’t survive like this! We never should have left the village in the first place.”

Warrick tilted his head back to the sky and whispered, “I don’t know how to get back.”

“What do you mean you don’t know how?” Jun hissed. “You didn’t keep track of where we were going?!”

“I’m never going back.”

***

Nearly two days later and there I was, leaning against a tree next to Warrick, clutching my empty locket and thinking about how I was supposed to give it to my children. In a little village next to a mountain and a spring. No matter how far we got there was no water.

Jun collapsed first, from the heat or dehydration we would never know. He did not get up. Gala refused to leave him and when she fell asleep, she did not wake up.

“Alis,” Warrick’s voice was dry and weak. He struggled to speak. “Forgive me.”

I should, we were about to die, and it really was my own fault for following the fool. But that locket was a symbol. Of that village I would never see again. For the friends I left behind. For the family I would never have again. The mistakes I could not bear the burden of myself. “No.”

I am not ready.

I need more time.

***

It may have been hours or seconds later when I heard some rustling and shouting. Then there was pressure on my neck.

“Get some water! She’s still alive!”