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TOMOE

Pointless. Everything now was pointless. Aimlessly wandering around by myself, no longer moving with purpose. Desire.

I’d fled my family home over a year ago, running off anger and adrenaline. Set out to find the group those disgusting excuses for men had come from, with no luck. No number of prayers, worship, or offerings had given me answers. Maybe the lack of answers was answer enough. The men had moved without training or structure. It was possible it was just a group of assholes hoping to score that had wanted my sisters for some nefarious reason and not a larger plan.

That was life now. It was the reason I’d chosen to stay away from larger groups, had watched the same situation occur from the shadows, stepping in when I could. Ending the worthless little lives of walking pieces of shit.

Then war had broken out and the crappy world I found myself living in became darker. Colder. There wasn’t much left for people to hang onto these days. Humanity was on the brink of falling.

War ruined what humanity most had left. The moral code we’d all clung to no longer existed. At least not in any places I’d wandered through since the war had ended.

Transient Nation was okay. Set up for people like me. People who didn’t want to exist without some sort of common law or rule, but didn’t want to settle in the confines of a city after watching the world crumble the way it had before. New Mexico was hotter than hell itself, which meant not too many people wanted to travel through it on foot. The place was barren in both population and landscape, the way I preferred.

My carelessness caught up to me on a simple food run. Accustomed to the schedules of the few who’d set up camp in the area, I’d decided to cut between buildings, wanting to avoid any interactions. Tunnel-visioned on sticking to the shadows, I hadn’t accounted for what may have once been attached to the walls.

A nail scraped against my side, breaking the skin and caused me to hiss in pain. I didn’t stop. Didn’t think about the cut again until the swelling started hours later. By the time I’d realized I needed to search for alcohol to cleanse it, I’d already succumbed to the confusion of infection. The layout of the house I was squatting in no longer made sense as I felt my way toward the street. At the second storefront, my breathing turned rapid, my body cold and clammy despite the heat of the day.

I didn’t make it to the next store.

I was lucky. A family had found me dying in the streets and decided that they couldn’t leave me there on the brink of death.

“Let me out!” I’d screamed, ramming into the bedroom to no avail. It didn’t budge. I felt myself hyperventilating, taking in my surroundings and finding nothing but a bed and dresser surrounding me in the piss-colored room that smelled of dust and mold.

The soothing voice of a woman came through the door. “I’m going to open the door now, but I need you to take a step back and remain calm.” A breath caught in my throat as I hesitated. “We found you nearly dying on the streets of Santa Fe. I’ll explain everything—just. Please calm down, you’re scaring the kids.”

Indeed, there were stifled cries in the background.

“We?” I asked through the door, not missing a beat and doubting a woman and small children could get by on their own now. Not without a small arsenal.

“Yes. My husband and our kids.”

My vision blurred, and my heart pulsed. Pacing the room, I searched for another exit. Finding none but the window that was currently barred. No escape . I had no intention of being in an enclosed space with any man. Not after the men at my house. Not after the things I’d seen out on the road.

“Just you,” I whispered, unsure if she could hear my plea. “Please.”

There was shuffling beyond the door before the woman cleared her throat. “Sure. Just me.”

Taking a deep breath, I focused on grounding myself. Wanting to be clear minded for whatever came next.

Stepping back from the door, I answered her request. “I’m away.”

The door creaked open. A man with a gun on the other side of the crack met my stare. I ran forward, slamming my body into the door once more, chest heaving. Shame fell upon me at my cowardice. My family would be ashamed of my lack of courage. They’d stood proudly and without fear in their own deaths. Yet here I was …

“No. No, it’s okay. He’s not going to hurt you. It’s just me coming in.” She pushed on when I offered no response. “I’m not going to hurt you either.”

The room remained silent aside from the sound of my quick, panicked breaths.

“He only wants to make sure I’m safe. We don’t … we don’t know you. Anything about you, but we saved you. There are worse things we could have done. We chose to save you instead. And now we need to make sure you’re safe to let out. At least while our kids are here.”

I pondered her words for a moment. “Where’s my katana?”

“You can have it back. After we talk.”

Slowly, I opened the door. A woman walked in, her face harsh and worn with exhaustion, but her voice was kind. A teacher’s voice.

“I’m Laurel,” she said. “I’d say nice to meet you, but the circumstances we meet under aren’t exactly pleasant. Are they?”

Her hand extended toward mine and I stepped back. My backside now pressed against the barred window. And why exactly do you think they are barred, Tomoe? I asked myself, letting my mind wander to the worst-case scenario.

“House came that way. Wasn’t exactly the nicest neighborhood before all this mess, but when you’re on the road all the time, shelter is shelter. What’s your name?” Observant and direct. Duly noted.

“Tomoe.”

“Well, Tomoe, let me fill you in on what you’ve missed.”

The door had been locked for their own safety. They didn’t know me and had small kids in the house, but her motherly instinct had prevented her from walking past my body that day. Not wanting me to be left out there on my own, an easy victim to the next passerby. She knew what it was like to be a woman in this world of ours.

Her eyes had gone sad when she’d noted that yes, all three kids were hers, though the youngest would resemble little to the other two. They did not share a father, but she’d hoped to raise him to be a better man than her attacker. She’d offered me a place to stay. A place to recover from the brutal infection that had taken over my body, allowing time for the antibiotics to do what they did.

I’d accepted her offer. There was a warmth to Laurel that made me want to stick around. I was still skittish, never able to be around them all at once. Most notably her husband. But they were graceful, treating me as if I were one of their own. Laurel and I grew closer as the weeks went on.

I’d recovered after the first week, but conveniently, either she or I would come up with another excuse to why I couldn’t leave just yet. A storm is coming , she’d say. Not enough food to last on my own , I’d offer the next week, saying I needed more time to gather materials. Our clothing was stolen, their oldest daughter, Emma, had stated another week. Too much fighting in the streets this week , we’d said on my last week there.

Memories ended my stay abruptly. A nightmare, back to the night my world had ended. The day I’d lost it all. Pain seared through my shoulder, snapping me back to reality. Metal chimed against the tiled floors as my katana fell.

A guttural scream rang from my throat. “What? What happened?”

Laurel cradled me, putting pressure on my bleeding wound. They’d shot me. “Tomoe, it’s me, honey. It’s okay. You were dreaming. Come here, honey, you’re going to be okay.”

In the distance, a safety clicked, her husband placing his gun between his waistband and scooping up their now crying kids.

An expression of horror crossed over his features as he finished assessing them for any injuries. “She has to go too, Laurel. I want her gone. Now!”

My body shuddered; tears cascaded down my face. I didn’t want to leave. Wasn’t ready to.

Laurel cried with me. “I know,” she said to us both, and my heart broke.

She patched me up, explaining what my nightmares had taken from me. They’d awoken to the sound of me yelling, screaming over the kids’ cots, that they would pay for what they’d taken from me. Not wanting to risk spooking me awake, Laurel had ordered him to take a shot through my shoulder.

A shot he’d very much intended to put through my skull until she’d intervened. She hadn’t told me that part, but I could tell. He was about as okay with my presence as I was with his.

“I could have loved you like you were one of my own,” she said after moments of silence.

I scoffed, not needing her to try to soften the blow. “I find myself being the product of many possibilities. My world is filled with nothing but ‘could,’ Laurel. I understand why I have to go.”

“It’s not what I want. But…” She hesitated. “It’s no longer safe for you to stay.”

For them. Not for me.

I looked at the woman that had helped me. Saved me. The woman I’d grown attached to. “I understand.”

“There’s a settlement out in California,” she rushed out. “They call themselves Monterey Compound . Heard about it from some travelers a few weeks back. It’s stable. Under good leadership. There are young people there, people your age. I think you should go.”

“If you think I belong there, then I was never close enough to you to be one of your own.”

Laurel glared at me from the side of her eye, knowing my words were bullshit. “It will be good for you. You need to heal, Tomoe, need to be around people your own age. Have a shot at doing normal things. Don’t you think you deserve a chance to feel safe?”

“Safety is not a luxury I’ve been awarded in a very long time.” It was true.

I hadn’t felt safe in well over a year. The reality was, when your sense of safety was taken from you in your most vulnerable state—in your sleep, when you were surrounded by family—there was no such thing as safety. Not for me at least, not ever again.

“Well, maybe it’s time that changed.”

“What about you all?” I shot back at her. “You don’t deserve a shot at safety? What makes me so special?”

“Life out here isn’t for everyone, but … now that I’ve got Hal here. Gosh, honestly, kid, I haven’t felt unsafe in a very long time.” She smiled at the thought.

Her second husband had been her saving grace after the sudden death of the first who’d died long before any apocalypse. They’d found each other again out on the road. He’d saved her for a second time, too late to stop the horrible fate bestowed upon her. Damage was already done. But he made damn sure he was there to help her pick up the pieces. They were happy, loved this life. Taking this time to live off the land and see sights that would have taken years to see and days off work.

I knew myself. I’d never feel safe here. Wasn’t sure if I was ever capable of feeling that again. But if I didn’t at least try something else, I wasn’t sure how much longer out there I’d want to last. Bitter goodbyes were exchanged between Laurel and me in the morning. Hal had taken the kids and locked them behind their bedroom door the second the locks on my own door had unlatched. She’d apologized, but I shook it off. Wishing her the best and thanking her for all she’d done.

There were no empty promises of somehow finding each other again. We were not foolish enough to hope for that to be true. This Transient Nation was big, what was the continental US was even bigger. Even if we did survive another day, the chances of crossing paths again were unrealistic.

Two days later, the exhaustion wore on my already tired soul. I laid under the stars, shivering into myself, possessing nothing but the layers of clothes on my back, whatever food fit into my bag, and my katana. The layers were not nearly enough for the cold reservation land.

I’d told myself I wasn’t heading toward Monterey, was just letting myself go wherever my feet decided to take me that day. That was before I’d found myself along the border of New Mexico and Arizona. A few minutes of travel west in the morning, and I’d cross territory borders.

Closing my eyes, I willed a vision on just as I’d practiced. Figuring out how I could use my powers had been an agonizing effort on an already weak body. I found myself not caring. There was no longer a benefit in leading a life in the dark.

In the following weeks after my family’s death, I blamed myself. Determined I’d been cursed for practicing magic that my mother had spent my life telling me wasn’t natural. Kana and I spent hours into the night lost in lore and practice. Our aunt had fallen prey to dark magic years before as a young girl, my mother had told us. Kana had pushed back that she didn’t understand.

There was nothing inherently dark about paganism. It was what you made of it, your intentions. What my sister and I were doing was what we’d always been meant to do, what our bodies now rewarded us for doing.

That award winning assumption had changed into believing my visions were something of a curse. A punishment for messing with forces beyond what I could fathom. Leaving me unable to help my family when they’d needed me the most, but still forcing me to watch it play out firsthand.

If I could learn to control my curse, there was a chance I’d be able to turn it into a blessing instead. My eyes flickered and my mind went elsewhere. I was happy, surrounded by a group of people, only the backs of their heads visible. One with curly hair, the other with long brown wavy hair. We were sitting on a green patch eating food. Curly hair flew back as the group laughed, someone leaning in to take our picture. A picture? Wow. It’d been ages since I’d considered the thought. The scene flickered.

A man with locs walked next to me in silence on a cobblestone path just as the sun crested over the wall, rising for the day. Then I was sparring with someone, a hand reaching down to my own, the vision changing before I could make out a face once more.

The name Prescott echoed in my head. Another flicker. A tall, lean figured man dipped his cowboy hat in my direction, the only part of his face visible being the sultry smile he tossed my way.

It made sense. My family had been vacationing in Monterey for years. The sea otters and whales captivated my mother’s heart. I no longer had a place to call home. No longer had a family. But it seemed as if my mother had set me up to find a new one in her absence.