US (Formerly The After Effect - Book 2)

31 - L O N G / R O A D

//although i will probably revise this chap, i figure i should give you to it like this anyhow.//

I flinch awake when my body bounces from a shift beneath me. The Ferris wheel is powered on with blinking rainbow lights and lifting us up to the very top. I hold my breath in as I peer out the window at our height and squeal. Those below us are ants.

The sky is moody. An orangish, bluish pink with faded clouds. As we make the revolution to the top, I catch the sun rising over a massive body of water, tens of miles away. The world is so flat from above. The trees, the water, and the hills all appear equal height and smooth from this high up. And you can see...everything.

"Thought you might like to watch the sunrise this morning before our big takeoff," Brink explains, holding my hand. He's a little blurry, and I wonder why that is, before...

"I know this isn't real, but I'm not stopping it."

He's tricking me and I catch it in a second, but don't want it to end. The painted sky is marvelous and I want to stay here, up in this Ferris wheel and soak it in for hours.

Unfortunately, my brain doesn't work that way. When I notice my artificial surroundings, I shut down and transport back to the present.

We're still in the blue cart—well, I am. Brink stands just outside it, his hands clutching the outer rim and leaning forward at me. "Good morning," he says calmly with a genuine smile I will never get old of seeing. His face is as bright as his eyes as he reaches in and offers me assistance out.

I take it and meet his side, where the revolutionaries, the rest of The Five, and my mother are gathered. "Good morning," I hear, but I am not sure where it derives.

"If we're all set, let's go," Brink announces, keeping his fingers firmly laced with mine.

And the park vanishes behind us. After strolling out of the front gate and through the parking lot, we decide to trek along some of the highway today to gauge the human traffic, if there is any.

When we step out onto the asphalt of the road, I shrink and spin back to an earlier time when I escaped my shelter and finally reached town. I remember being equally cautious when putting my first foot down on the concrete. There was a long stretch of openness, which meant my safety shot way down. I was more exposed, more prone to any attacks. And again, the process repeats.

The highway is cracked like a crumbled cookie with green sprigs sprouting between them every few feet. After a back and forth glance, I count a few motionless cars down the way. Hopefully no skeletons accompany them. After the cave incident, I doubt I'll be able to stomach more dead bodies.

Brink playfully swings my arm forward and back, giving me a huge hint to his happy confidence today. I'm glad he's looking up now and only hoping for the best. It's probably the only way we'll make it to D.C.

***

Come to find out, walking the road is decently more boring than the woods. With the forest, we get to cross baby streams, hills, something new—no matter how small or insignificant. Out here there is nothing. Occasional cars with peeling paint and invisible memories don't serve me well. They do, however serve to bring me back to Earth a little. I start to remember the devastation that happened here. So fast. So unexpected. Brink snaps me out of it.

***

"This hurting anyone else's feet?" my mother calls.

A few revolutionaries check each other's faces, as if they're waiting for someone else to complain so they can join in.