This way, Cole will not feel pressured to choose, will not agonize over the pain he’s causing me, and he will not cling to whatever small part of me I do believe he loves.
???
Jase leaves the night before to get into position, and we agree to stay at the house and, therefore, far away from any backlash. Once Michele turns in for the night, I pack my stuff and make my way out of the building, and although I feel a pang of guilt for leaving her hanging and in the middle of the night, no less, I know she will understand.
I have to do this. It’s the only way.
I walk all night. It’s quiet, and all I can hear are the steps I make while I clomp down the road.
The sky overhead shines brightly from the moon, full and yellow, but the stars around it are dimmed by its brilliance.
My mother’s words circle in my brain. You were a mistake, mistake, mistake.
But I smile to myself and circle my finger around the necklace that became mine on her deathbed. It’s the only thing I have left of her, and I pull it from my neck, breaking the delicate chain before tossing it into the overgrown grass hugging the road.
“I forgive you, Mom,” I breathe.
It’s time to let her go, to move on from whatever her pain was because it isn’t mine. Her choices, her mistakes, her path, isn’t mine. I get to choose who I want to be. I get to choose what I care about. I get to be everything or nothing.
I stop during the day, sleeping in an abandoned creeper van parked along the shoulder of the road, and I’m so tired, my body aches so bad that I am content with the setup in the back, which contains a small bed and no windows. After locking the doors, I drop into a deep, dreamless sleep, avoiding thoughts of what may be happening back in the community.
Is Shepherd dead? I fucking hope so.
On the second night, the sky opens up, and rain falls in torrents from above as lightning bounces around in bright streaks of white fire, and thunder rumbles the ground under my feet. I raise my arms to the sky and revel in the rain soaking my body, removing the detritus of my pain in tiny rivulets as my tears mix with the rain, and I laugh and sob.
Sharp, exquisite pain drags me to my knees, and I weep in the dark, kneeling on the hard ground while the rain beats down on my head. I hope I’m doing the right thing and it will feel better at some point because right now, it feels like someone has pulled my beating heart out of my chest and crushed it in their hand.
Gruesome, I know, but I’m allowed to be a little dramatic right now.
I continue to walk, my clothes wet and dragging on my body until eventually, the rain recedes, the lightning stops, and the thunder fades away. Dawn brushes over the horizon, bathing my body in the familiar orange glow, and my clothes slowly dry as I walk toward the sun creeping across the horizon.
Warmth suffuses me in a gentle caress, and I raise my face to the early morning sky, grateful in this moment to be alive and to experience a new day once again.
I wonder if Jase, Mich, and Cole are sitting around right now, laughing and chatting, hopeful of a new beginning now that they are reunited. They have an opportunity to turn the community into a thriving, safe place, the chance to put down roots and grow.
Maybe Mich will get pregnant and have a child of her own. Perhaps they can build that flock that Shepherd so desperately wanted, except on their terms. I can see Mich holding a petite blonde baby with a sweet tuft of hair on her little head and pretty green eyes. Or a little boy with Jase’s surfer dude good looks.
The children can play together, happy and free. Their world will be vastly different from what we knew, and although they will learn to fight as a priority, to scavenge and plant, they will also grow up appreciating what they have. Where we failed, they will thrive, living each moment to its fullest and creating a society without the politics and greed that invaded the bones of our world.
It will truly be a brave new world. Full of possibility, full of a new generation with new ideas. Full of hardworking, hard-loving people. What could be wrong with that?
???
I find Thomas at the route 66 post, still hanging around. I think he was waiting for me or us to return, and his eyes light up when he sees me until I break down for the last time by his side. Over those few hours, I cry for myself and my bruised heart. I cry for Mich and Jase, and I cry for Cole and his baby.
But the tears are not all sad. Some are born of hope, and when I am done, my heart feels lighter for it. I’m alive. I’ve survived some of the worst horrors a person can be put through. I’ve been raped, attacked, starved, almost eaten, and here I am, alive.
It’s a gift. I understand it now. It doesn’t mean life isn’t fucking hard because it is, but I’ve learned what I need to focus on. Still, I’m human, and I will fall back into old patterns, just as I will pull myself right back out.
Thomas doesn’t ask about Mich and Jase, and I don’t explain, but he does invite me along on his next journey for food, water, and anything else worth finding. And I agree, happy for the opportunity to not be alone, at least for now, because I suspect Thomas enjoys being a lone wolf, and eventually, we will part ways.
Unfortunately, much of the area nearby has already been picked over, which means we will have to go farther and farther to find supplies, and I think, once I’ve walked that far, I won’t see a need to come back.
Thomas is a quiet, contemplative guy, so we don’t talk much, which suits me just fine because I am consumed by thoughts of my past and my future and worried about what I should do next. I vacillate between contentment that I did the right thing for Cole and sadness that I will never see him again.
I miss Jase and Michele, and I even wonder what happened to Enzo. Walking away means I will never get the chance to find out, and that’s like reading all but the last few chapters in a beloved book. It’s the hardest choice I continue to struggle to make.