Page 11 of Citadel

Breanna is equally miserable. It’s impossible to tell what Cole is thinking, but I can’t imagine anyone would actually enjoy this form of travel.

Unless that someone is a masochist.

While I don’t know Cole’s proclivities, I’d find that hard to believe.

He doesn’t get any friendlier or more talkative as the days pass. Eventually even Breanna becomes too tired to chat, so we slog along in mostly silence.

By the end of the fourth full day of walking, the geography finally starts to change. The swampiness is all but gone. The ground rises and falls in sloping hills. And there are even some mountains in the distance. As we move onto drier ground, the bugs thin out as well, and the air feels fresher.

I start to feel better despite myself.

That evening, when we stop, Cole builds a campfire like usual so we can boil off water to make sure it’s drinkable. Earlier he shot a rabbit, and now he skins and skewers it on a spit before roasting it on the fire.

That roasted meat is the best thing I’ve had to eat in years of almost nothing but fish and seaweed.

“How far do you think we’ll have to go before we reach other people?” I ask Cole as I wipe grease from my chin with the sleeve of my sweatshirt.

He gives a half shrug. “Don’t know.” His face is particularly craggy in the shifting firelight, and his eyes look downright creepy. “Mountains, probably.”

It’s too dark to see the mountains in the distance now, but I remember how far away they looked.

“How long do you think it will take us to get there?” I ask, glancing over at Breanna, who is listening while she eats.

“No idea. Maybe another week.”

My shoulders slump. Another week of this trek sounds terrible, but I guess it was unrealistic to expect anything faster. Walking across the length of Virginia can’t be done easily, and who knows if that’s as far as we’ll need to go.

Maybe all of Virginia is virtually abandoned now, and we’ll have to hike even farther west. Cole apparently doesn’t have a clear destination in mind any more than we do. We’re making this trip in the dark.

“Does anyone have cars anymore?” Breanna asks.

Cole shifts his gaze over to her. “They’re still around. Abandoned and broken down mostly. I used to see people driving occasionally, but there’s hardly any gas around now. S’pose we might get lucky, but don’t count on it.”

“I wasn’t counting on it. Just wondering. It would sure be nice.”

I can barely even remember what it felt like to ride in a car. I was fifteen the last time I did it.

I never even learned how to drive.

“If there was a good river, we could build a raft,” I say idly.

“That’s not a bad idea. But the rivers are mostly flowing the wrong way.”

I laugh. “Oh. Right. Well, that won’t be any good. I guess we’ll have to walk all the way.”

“Not much choice.”

We stare at each other across the fire. There’s nothing else to say. Cole obviously doesn’t want to share anything about himself or his life with us, and Breanna and I already know each other’s lives.

Eventually Breanna and I curl up on the ground next to each other and go to sleep.

If Cole ever sleeps, I’ve yet to see him.

* * *

He’s grumpy the next morning, mostly grunting in response to our attempts to make conversation and snapping at me when I ask one too many questions.

He moves ahead of us as we walk.

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