Page 31 of Once Upon an Apocalypse

As we cross the road, Amos points at a white two-story building that looks like a large house. “That’s where Alison’s office is. Our campus shrink. She was a psychology professor here before the outbreak. We usually have all the new arrivals go through her for screening. Make sure we don’t let any psychopaths in. But she also schedules time with our residents to help them through tough times, trauma. You are to come here tomorrow morning at ten. Alison will then decide if more meetings will be necessary.”

Amos turns to me, locking his eyes with mine as he continues. “I need you to understand how important it is that you show up for your sessions with Allison. Not just because of our compromise, or to make sure you aren’t crazy, but for your own mental health. Okay?”

I break my gaze from his and stare at the white building, unsure what to make of it. Mental health. What even is that? And how can one person help an entire community cope when the world has ended? Amos places a hand on my shoulder and squeezes gently, coaxing a response from me.

“I understand.”

“Good.”

Amos turns me away from the white building and we continue walking down the sidewalk toward the dorm buildings. My brain turns off as we walk. I’m not sure if he says anything else to me. All sound, feeling, smells, everything turns off. I don’t even notice that we’ve stopped walking until Amos’ deep voice pierces the void I had curled up inside.

“Lori, are you okay?”

I shake my brain. “Yeah. Just a lot to take in.”

That pitiful look on Amos’ face makes me want to strangle him, so I ignore it, turning away to stare at the door in front of us. Amos opens the door, telling me to go inside. He doesn’t follow me in, but stands at the door.

“Oh, hi, Amos!” Three girls are gathered on a couch in the communal living room. There are five doors behind the living space, one looks like a bathroom. The others are all bedrooms.

The girl who greeted Amos stands up and walks toward us. She is skinny with toned arms and legs. Her blonde hair cascades perfectly over her shoulders. Tanned skin tells me she spends most of her time outside. And the look on her face as she stares up at Amos tells me there is something going on between them.

Or perhaps I’m imagining that because Amos looks past her to the others as he says, “This is Cathy’s daughter, Lori. She’ll be rooming with the three of you, so I expect you all to give her a warm welcome and help her as she transitions from life outside The Valley.”

Brighteyes is still staring at Amos, waiting for him to look at her. He doesn’t. Instead, Amos turns to me, giving me his attention as he says, “If you need anything,anything, I’m right across the hallway. Okay?”

No words come out of my mouth as I nod. When I turn toward my new roommates, I hear the door close behind me. Brighteyes left with Amos and that’s the last thought I allow myself. The other two wave me over to them on the couch. I numbly follow their welcome and collapse onto the couch.

Chapter 22

“I’mCal—they/them.ThisisMina—she/her. And the one who went chasing after Amos is Katie—also she/her.” Cal sits half cross-legged on the couch with their arm draped over the back. Mina is on the other side of Cal, curiously peering over at me.

I stare up at the pair for a moment before I say shyly, “Nice to meet you guys. I’m Lori—she/her. I hope it’s okay that I’m rooming with you?” I don’t know why that came out as a question. The discomfort I felt after eating sandwiches with Amos has singed every nerve ending in my body, leaving me anxious and irritable. I just want to be left alone.

“Where did Amos find you?” Mina asks with an accent I can’t quite place, but I don’t think English is her first language, though she speaks it perfectly.

“Um, I don’t really want to talk about that.”

“Yeah, Mina, leave the poor girl alone. She’s been through hell.” Cal turns to give Mina a look, making her slump backward.

If they know Amos found me, I wonder how much they know about me already. If my mom or any of the other leaders had told the community here what I’ve been through. The thought makes me feel naked. Like my entire life story is laid bare on my skin.

“It’s okay. I’m just tired. Actually, I think I’d like to lie down, if that’s okay?”

“Yeah sure, roomie. Your room is the corner on the left,” Cal says with a friendly smile.

I offer a small smile in return and a thanks before shuffling to my room. It’s small, finally something I’m used to. But it is nice to have a solid door, no window for my captors to peer through. I haven’t had privacy like this since before the outbreak. There’s even a lock on the inside. I can lock myself in instead of being locked in. It feels strange.

Ever since I left the confines of that hospital-like building, I’ve felt strange. Like I’m walking in someone else’s shoes. Literally. Being in a small room is the only thing that has felt normal all day. Perhaps this is where I’ll stay for the rest of my life. No one will force me to fight again. I’m safe here. And in this little room, no one can hurt me.

Fight. Survive. Live.My mantra still pulses through me. As much as I try to convince myself that I am safe, my survival instincts continue to electrify everything else.I’m not safe.They want to put me through tests. Even Amos. He might have charmed me, but I won’t allow him to use me like Doctore did. I will not allow anyone to use me ever again.

I lock the door and curl into my small bed, staring up at the ceiling until exhaustion pulls me into a heavy sleep. A sleep that is hastily interrupted by pounding on the door. I jump up in my bed and stare at the door as if it’s going to blast off the hinges. But nothing happens. Then I hear it again, but it’s not as loud as my mind imagined in its dream-like state.

The sound becomes clearer as I focus on it and I quickly figure out where it’s coming from. Outside. I have a small window in my room that overlooks a beach volleyball court. A group of people my age are playing volleyball. That’s the sound I heard. No one is pounding on my door. No one is here to take me away. I’m safe. For now.

I used to hate being woken up by the sun. I hated it so much that I used my hard-earned cash from my job at ShopRite to purchase blackout curtains to hide the blazing beast from my bedroom. But after living in a bunker with no sunlight for four years, I relish the feeling of the sun on my skin. Even if it woke me up from a rather enjoyable dream featuring a man with golden eyes.

A light tap on my door has me in fight mode. I jump from my bed before whoever it is can catch me in such a vulnerable state. Sleep. I was actually sleeping. I haven’t had a full night’s sleep in years. Even in the hospital room I had been staying in for the last two weeks, I couldn’t fully sleep. Knowing people were watching me, waiting to pounce on me with questions.

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