Page 29

Claire

A week after the fall through the ice, we were finally closing in on our destination.

Unfortunately, even that short time wore us all down even further.

We were short with each other, cold and miserable, and hunger was our constant companion.

Exhaustion permeated every fibre of our frail bodies.

With little food, we were all thin and gaunt, looking more like a skeleton crew with each passing day.

Even Kimmy had been relatively subdued at our engagement announcement—most unlike her usual self.

She grinned and pulled me into a weak hug, saying she already thought of me as a sister.

I teared up and squeezed her. Asha remained impassive, but asked me over Kimmy’s shoulder, “This is what you want?”

I nodded solemnly. “It is.”

John didn’t comment, but the muscle in his jaw ticked, and I knew he’d bitten back a retort for my benefit. I let Kimmy go and hooked my arm in his, which seemed to pacify him.

The terrain had changed in the last couple of days, becoming rockier and more mountainous the farther north we traveled.

Nothing could’ve prepared me for the arduous task of climbing amongst those steep hills and cliffs on meagre rations, while the land remained firmly in the suffocating grip of a northern Ontario winter.

Finally, we stood at the bottom of a mountain range, near the lowest of the mountains. As far as mountains went, I’d seen photos of much higher peaks back at the Cave…but that didn’t mean much in our current state.

“Once we cross that ridge, we’ll be officially in Valley territory,” John said, pointing at the top of the steep incline ahead.

My heart sped up. “We’re so close.”

“Don’t count your chickens before they hatch,” he replied with a wry smile. “We still gotta hike up there, which will be most of today.”

Asha groaned, and I couldn’t help agreeing with the sentiment. Two months of non-stop travel had worn me down to the point that as close as we were to our destination, I was ready to collapse with exhaustion.

“I know,” Kimmy said sympathetically, touching Asha’s shoulder. “It’s been a long trip for all of us. But just think: tonight, we could be sleeping indoors. ”

I giggled. “Hardly remember what that’s like.”

John squeezed my hand, and I knew his guilt about not taking care of me hadn’t abated.

We’d had a few more conversations about it, where he seemed determined to blame himself for not ensuring that I was living in the lap of luxury while we traveled.

I never thought I would be the one arguing on behalf of a lower standard of living, given where I came from, but I’d learned more than once that the Wasteland changed people.

Sometimes not for the better , I thought, glancing at Asha.

She’d softened a little over the course of our trip, and every now and then, there were more glimmers of the friend I remembered, but the next instant, they were gone, replaced once more by icy indifference.

Truthfully, I was afraid of how she would handle integrating into a community that may not welcome us.

The hike up to the ridge was treacherous, owing to the steep incline and the mountain of untouched snow that we had to wade through.

John went first, fighting his way through the snow, then attached the grappling hook to the top of the ridge.

The three of us could then use it to pull ourselves up.

It took a long time; we were all so tired.

Halfway to the top, I tripped and stumbled on my knees, but at least managed to hold onto the rope and avoid falling down the slope.

I couldn’t find the strength to stand. I was cold, wet, and malnourished.

Asha started to turn back, but John slid partway down the slope toward me, holding onto the rope for balance.

“You alright?” he asked, offering me his hand. His lips were cracked and pale, the hollows of his cheeks more pronounced than ever. I must’ve given him a look that betrayed my utter misery, because he said softly, “I know. It’s easier on horseback. Just a bit farther, baby.”

He pulled me to my feet, though his arm trembled slightly. His strength had faded just like mine, and my teeth chattered as he helped me climb. When we finally reached the ridge, however, the view took my breath away.

A vast, deep valley stretched out as far as the eye could see, and though snow clung in patches to certain areas, much of it was green—unlike the landscape that surrounded it on all sides.

“How?” I asked simply, eyes wide, and the corner of John’s mouth ticked up.

“It’s not as cold,” Kimmy answered, her brown eyes flickering with something like yearning. “You’ll feel it get warmer as we head down. Part of why the crops grow so well here—a milder climate.”

In the distance, a small lake, only partially frozen, stretched over the land.

John had told me it was a popular fishing and swimming spot in the summer.

The landscape was a patchwork quilt of empty farmland and cleared land for homesteads, each surrounded by dense forest, all connected by dirt roads.

Even in winter, it was breathtaking and beautiful—little pieces of civilization dotted across a palette of wilderness. I instantly wanted to paint it.

“We’re going to try to avoid outrider routes,” John said with a weary sigh. “We don’t need anyone to know we’re here before we’re ready.”

“How do they communicate across this kind of distance?” I asked, eyes wide.

“Radio,” he answered. “Thankfully, the mountains make the reception to the outside shit, or we’d never be able to use them and keep the place a secret.”

Asha uncrossed her arms. “How much farther is this place we’re going? ”

Kimmy took her hand, and surprisingly, Asha allowed it. “We’re heading to Dreamspring, which is the Armstrongs’ farm. Summerhurst won’t be ready to live in right away. It’s just a bit farther, like John said.”

Just a bit farther took at least another hour and a half, and it started to snow. Fat, wet snowflakes hit my frozen face, making me even more miserable. Just as I was about to resign myself to death by hypothermia, the terrain finally began to change.

The sea of snow-covered trees gave way to fields, and in the distance, a tall brown barn rose out of the landscape.

Still further ahead stood a deep blue farmhouse with sunny yellow shutters, shrouded in silvery white and resembling a holiday card.

A cozy glow emanated from the windows, and a thin column of smoke rose from the red bricked chimney, completing the image.

I took a breath and held it. We were really, finally here, and the people I was about to meet would change the course of my life.

I wasn’t entirely prepared for that prospect…

or for the appearance of a large brown dog.

It bounded towards us, and I tensed, preparing to run, but John merely grinned as Kimmy called out to the dog.

“Alma! Come here, girl!”

Clearly excited, the dog sped up and leaped up onto Kimmy to lick her face. I exchanged a confused look with Asha, but Kimmy merely turned her face away and laughed. There was a pure joy in her laughter that made me ache. It was the kind of joy that came from familiarity. From being home.

John must have noticed my apprehension because he took my hand.

“Ever petted a dog before?” he asked, and I shook my head.

“No pets allowed in the compound,” I said. “Only the military had dogs. I never saw them close up. My first close encounter with a dog was the one that bit me on that PNC hunt we went on.”

He squeezed my hand. “That dog was feral. Scared of people. Not like Alma. Unless you’re a rabbit, she’s the friendliest thing you’ll ever meet. Come see.”

I reluctantly allowed him to lead me towards the slobbery, excitable beast, which stopped playing with Kimmy and regarded me with curiosity.

He guided my hand towards the dog, and I gave her head a quick, tentative stroke.

To my surprise, she leaned into my hand, encouraging me to continue, and I couldn’t help but smile.

“See?” John said, pleased. “She won’t hurt you.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Asha roll her eyes.

“Can we not keep standing out in the cold?”

Kimmy sobered. “Right. Guess we should make our ourselves known.”

We resumed walking towards the blue farmhouse.

“Ready?” John asked me.

I gulped, suddenly nervous. “No.”

“You’ll be fine,” he said with a chuckle, and I followed him and Kimmy to the door.

I could hear voices inside the house, talking back and forth. John knocked loudly, and they went abruptly silent. There was a pause, and then the door opened.

“You back already, hon—?”

A short, blonde, heavily pregnant woman stood in the doorway, a question in her eyes. My stomach flip-flopped, but thankfully, she didn’t seem to even notice me.

“Is that John Madigan standing on my doorstep?” she said in a near-whisper, seemingly speaking to herself, eyes wide with disbelief.

She didn’t give him time to respond before throwing herself at him, grabbing him in a hug. She barely met his shoulder, but her grip looked bone-crushing.

“Sarah, valuable things are getting squished here,” John gasped out.

“I don’t care,” she replied, her voice thick. “I thought I’d never see you again. And Kimmy!”

She moved to Kimmy and hugged her just as hard. Kimmy smiled warmly, her eyes misty as she returned the embrace.

“You two have a lot to answer for,” Sarah said as she moved back, wiping her eyes. “You’ve been gone so long. We thought you were dead.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” John said dryly.

Sarah’s gaze moved to Asha and me, partially obscured by John and Kimmy, and her eyes grew wide as saucers.

“And you brought…people,” she said, looking back and forth between John and Kimmy with a frantic energy.

“Yeah,” John answered, his voice softening a little, and he stepped aside so that Sarah could see me better. “This is Claire. My fiancée.”