Page 10 of Citadel

Cole finds us some shade in a copse of trees. When Breanna and I give each other gloomy glances over our depleted bottle of water, Cole says in his normal mutter, “We’re getting to where there’s more fresh water. Later we’ll find some and boil it off so it’s safer to drink.”

We both let out sighs of relief. He seems to know what he’s doing. He needs water too, so we can at least trust him in this.

“Do you know where we’re heading?” I ask him.

He gives me a long stare. “Farther inland.”

“I know that much. I wondered if you have a place in mind. Have you done much traveling inland?”

He shakes his head. “Not much. I’ve been up and down the coast.”

I frown. “Then how do you know where to take us?”

“I don’t know. But I’ve heard lots of talk. Plenty of communities farther inland. Some of them should be stable and have resources. They’d probably let you join up if you help with the work.”

“That would be nice,” Breanna says with a sigh. “We’ve been trapped on the coast for a long time, and there isn’t any sort of real community there.”

“I know.”

I frown over at Cole. “Why haven’t you gone inland before now? Why go up and down the coast? Surely you’d find a better life where there are more people.”

He does nothing but stare at me.

I make a face. “Why were you with those guys before? The ones that attacked us? They don’t seem like your sort. You said you were following the same path for a while. What path was that?”

Still no answer.

“Why won’t you say? What’s keeping you on the coast?”

“Del,” Breanna murmurs, a warning in her tone. She’s always warned me about getting too opinionated with men. They don’t like it and often react badly to it.

Cole’s stare has turned into a glare, but he still hasn’t said anything.

“I’m just asking,” I begin. Something about the man frustrates me. Makes me want to shake answers out of him. “Why haven’t you gone inland a long time ago?”

“Shut up,” he mutters.

“Shut up, Del,” Breanna repeats in a stage whisper.

I let out an exasperated groan and give up.

One thing is for sure. Cole isn’t a man I’ll ever be able to shake anything from.

* * *

For the rest of the day and the three days after, we trudge through mile after mile of desolate countryside.

As we progress, the ground continues to get firmer, but it’s no less eerie and unfamiliar. We’re still in what used to be southeast Virginia, but instead of quiet farms, small towns, and country roads, we’re hiking through an alien landscape of waterlogged pastures, desperate trees still clinging to life, and moldy ruins of former civilization.

It feels far more depressing and isolating than our flooded hotel in the middle of the ocean ever did.

I hate it.

I hate all of it.

My feet hurt. My tennis shoes are constantly soaked and on the verge of falling apart. My skin is burned despite my long sleeves and cap. And there are bugs.

Bugs everywhere.

---