We pulled apart, smiling at each other as we turned to continue along our way. Max’s smile faded and he looked as though he were listening for something. Stilling, I strained my ears. The continuous roar now sounded different, and wrong. It was deeper and louder than it had been before. I scrunched up my face in confusion. It did not make sense. We were farther away now. The sound was growing even louder, forcing us to turn back to look. To the east, in the distance, a large light-brown mass was moving towards the bridge. A landslide. We needed to leave quickly. The ground around the ravine was already unstable and a landslide would only make things much, much worse.
As we began to run, I shot one last look behind us. I froze. Someone was on the bridge!
“No!” I screamed, pointing. Max’s gaze shot in the direction I pointed and locked onto the person – a middle-aged man. Where did he come from? I wondered even as I started running back towards the bridge.
“Katherine!” Max’s yell was faint over the roar. He ran up beside me, dragging poor Amy along. “We can’t help him!” He grabbed my arm, pulling Amy and I away. Max’s fingers tightened almost painfully as I strained against him.
“Stop, Max!” I screamed, “We can’t just leave him!” My pleading eyes met with his as he turned back to face me.
“I’m trying to protect you!”
“Who is going to protect him?”
“I don’t care about him! I need you both, not him!”
“That is so selfish!”
“It’s the only way to survive, Katherine!”
We stared at each other, angry, breathing hard. I took the opportunity to yank my arm out of his grasp, which had loosened during our argument. I spun around, running the last few paces to get as close as I dared to the end of the bridge. I shouted and waved my arms, hoping to get the man’s attention, but the man never looked up from the bridge. His focus was on making it across. Max was suddenly at my side, joining my attempts to catch the man’s attention.
At that moment, the man glanced up, looking in our direction. I desperately waved my arms and yelled. His eyes locked on to me and I vigorously pointed at the oncoming landslide. He turned, his body stilling. He knew. He knew he could not outrun it and at that moment, so did I. The landslide was horrifyingly close now – the water and dirt and boulders churning in a deadly and unstoppable flow. The man was in the middle of the bridge, but regardless of his slim chances, Max had gotten out our rope and was tying a stick to the end of it. He threw it and it sailed about a quarter of the way across the bridge. Max picked up Amy, grabbed me, and brought us back to the tree line. The man dove for the end of the rope, hitting the ground hard, before picking himself back up and continuing to run. The landslide hit the bridge. The bridge held momentarily, but the slurry quickly rose, pressing forcefully against anything in its way. The man had fallen down, but was still holding on to the rope. Max began to pull the rope towards him at an impressive speed, but just then, the bridge collapsed. It was almost surreal the way it melted into the water. I barely seemed to hear the sounds of landslide and bridge colliding, but instead, heard clearly the sounds of Amy crying and my own chocked-back sob. Tears burned my eyes as I strained to see any sign of the man. Max cried out in pain as the rope yanked against his bare hands, the torrential landslide trying to rip the man off the end of the rope. Max strained, pulling the rope – this time far more slowly – towards him. Suddenly, Max fell backwards, the weight on the end of the rope disappearing.
“No!” He yelled, scrambling to his feet and yanking the rope towards him . I covered my mouth with one hand as I pulled a sobbing Amy to my side with my other. The end of the rope slipped up over the edge of the ravine. No stick, no man. Max’s shoulders slumped and he stumbled back against the tree. Chunks of the ground began to fall away at the edges of the ravine.
“We need to go.” I managed as I put my hand on his shoulder. He stared, a blank expression glazing over his face. Larger chunks of dirt crashed into the torrent. Amy screamed as the chaotic scene edged its way closer to us. I shook Max’s shoulder “Max, please!” My voice was desperate. Why was he suddenly so intent upon saving the man? Finally, Max seemed to come out of his stupor. He blinked, then looked at the crying Amy, hugging my leg. Without a word, he quickly coiled the rope and picked up Amy. Then we ran.
The landslide had continued to widen the ravine and spill over it sides, so that a shallow, eighteen inches of slurry had already begun rushing through the tree line. We ran farther into the forest, but the landslide was catching up with us. I turned to look back at how close the it was, then looked down as I felt my feet get soaked. It was all around us.
“Faster!” Yelled Max, but I could still barely hear him, and now, we were running thought a thick, watery flow. A small, golfball-sized rock hit my ankle and I cried out, nearly falling. Max reached out an arm to steady me and I grabbed onto him as we pressed on. The muddy water was now up to our shins. If we don’t get out of this quickly, we are going to get swept away. As if my pessimistic thoughts had manifested, the raging water, knocked me off balance. I felt my hand tear from Max’s and saw him knocked to his knees, still holding Amy. Sharp pain radiated throughout my torso and I gasped, spluttering at the dirty water entering my mouth. I could not move, could not breath, as the water rushed maddeningly around me. I am going to die. Just like that man. Just like my family. Just like everyone else. I felt a resigned sort of peace at that. Death would not be so bad in comparison to this, would it? But this world was not done with me yet. Firm hands grabbed me under the arms and pulled me to my feet. I winced at the pain, but did not cry out.
Miraculously, we stayed on the edge of the landslide, holding on to each other and trees to keep steady. I felt nothing. The man had died and I felt nothing. I should feel something. Was I so broken that I no longer mourned the loss of life? Yet, despite the lack of emotion in my mind, somehow, my body still allowed a few tears to fall as we walked. The silence became deafening as we made our way further and further away from the landslide. We made no effort to break it.
When we finally had trekked far enough away from the landslide that a we felt reasonably safe, we stopped at the base of a large tree. Max let Amy down and peeled off his backpack. Bits of drying mud flaked off as he did so. We were all covered in the dried, muddy water. I groaned as I stared at the sunlight dancing in the large, flat leaves of the tree above me. I gasped as another wave of stabbing pain radiated from my ribs. After a few moments of silence, Amy’s face appeared above mine.
“Are you sick?” She asked.
I groaned again. “No” I managed a smiled that I hoped was reassuring. “But I did get a little bit hurt, so I just need to rest for a while.” Amy frowned. She did not look convinced. Her face disappeared and I heard a patting sound in Max’s direction as if she were tapping on his arm.
“Kathrine needs help.” Amy’s quiet, frightened voice sounded. I turned my head towards her, surprised. Speaking like that was rare for her.
“Amy-” I started, but Max had already pushed himself to his feet and strode over to where I lay. He knelt beside me.
“What hurts?”
What doesn’t? I thought, but tried to focus on what I thought hurt the most. “My ribs. From when I fell.”
Max gently lifted my shirt up to just below my chest, his fingers brushing my skin ever so slightly. “You’ve certainly got some nasty bruises.” He gently felt along my lower ribs, working his way up one by one, first on the left side, then the right. I sucked in a breath. Pain stabbed as his fingers rested on a rib on my right side about half way in-between my bottom rib and my chest. “That one?” He asked. I nodded, gritting my teeth against the pain. “It certainly feels broken.” He continued checking the other ribs. “Does anything else hurt?” He asked, as he finished checking for more broken ribs. When I answered in the negative, he gently pulled my shirt back down. As he pulled away, I suddenly noticed his hands – raw and torn from the rope.
“Max!” I cried out. “Your hands!”
Max grimaced, “They’re fine.”
“No they are not!” I protested. “They look awful! They are going to get infected if you don’t clean them.”
“I will, but first I need to check on Amy.”
Amy shrank back, pressing herself against me.
“Come here, Amy.” Max beckoned as he moved closer to her, but Amy just pressed harder against me. I clenched my teeth at the pain, but forced myself to stay silent for Amy’s sake. “Amy, I need to know if you’re hurt.” Max insisted, gently. Amy simply shook her head and then pressed her face into my shoulder.
“Amy, are you sure you’re not hurt?” I said in a low voice by her ear. She shook her head again, but refused to come out of hiding. “Let your dad check just to make sure, okay?” Amy shook her head even more vigorously.
“Amy.” Max’s tone commanding now. “Come here.” The irritation in his voice was thinly veiled.
She slowly lifted her face from my shoulder and walked towards Max, her head hanging low.
“Thank you.” Max said, a little gentler now. He proceeded to check to make sure Amy was uninjured. She stood perfectly still as he did so, only moving when Max asked her to. She looked so sad? Afraid? The moment Max was finished, she ran back to my side, burying her face once more in my shoulder. Her behaviour was always strange, and I had been attributing it to all of the traumatic things Amy had experienced in her short six years of life, but now I wondered if there was more to it. After all, she seemed far more comfortable with me, a stranger, than she did her own father.
Max moved to begin our trek once more, but I protested, “Your hands, Max.” He sighed as he placed his bag back on the ground, unzipping it and pulling out a bottle of isopropyl alcohol and a small role of gauze. He turned away from Amy and I as he poured the disinfectant over his raw hands. My chest squeezed as I imagined how painful it would be. In a moment, he was wrapping gauze around them.
“Let me help you.” I carefully pulled myself into a sitting position, sucking in a sharp breath as my rib protested.
“You okay?” Amy whispered as she crouched beside me.
I turned to see her little face just inches from my own. Her ever-glassy blue eyes were intent.
“I’m okay, Amy. I promise.”
Her face relaxed slightly and she gave me the slightest of smiles.
I turned my attention to Max, who was now in front of me, holding out the gauze. “Be my guest.”
I took the gauze from him and gently wrapped it around the palms of both of his hands. Slices of rope burn also ran across the surface of his fingers, but since I could not very well wrap those without inhibited Max’s ability to use his hands, so I settled on wrapping the most severe wounds.
“Thank you.” Max said quietly as he gave me a slight smile.
When the sun began to get lower in the sky, indicating the fast-approaching evening, we found a rocky little area with a waterfall, an ideal spot to camp in. The cold water made for unpleasant, but practical showers, both for the sake of cleanliness and for the many bruises Max and I had sustained from the rock-filled slurry. Water sources were an unsettling necessity. Liable to cause greater instability in the earth, sources of water, such as streams, waterfalls, and ponds, for example, were generally avoided. Nevertheless, one always had to make calculated exceptions.
We huddled around the fire, having changed out of our muddied clothing. The warmth from the embers was glorious. Max spread out a map in the ring of firelight as I tucked Amy into her sleeping bag. As I went to leave, Amy grabbed my hand,
“Please stay.” She said softly. I glanced at Max who looked up from where he was kneeling over the map. He nodded, his smile mixing with concern. I knew he was happy that Amy and I got along, but I also knew he was concerned about her nightmares. None of us had slept well since they began. I sat with Amy, singing softly to her as her eyes got heavier and heavier. My voice lilted to a wandering minor melody:
“By a wandering brook,
In a flowery nook,
Will I lie to sleep.
In peace will I keep
Far away from fitful dreams.”
As Amy’s eyes began to close in earnest, I slipped my hand from her grasp. Before the next verse of the song was complete, Amy’s eyes were closed, her breathing heavy.
I stood, quietly making my way back over to where Max continued to look at the map.
“We’re almost there.” He said, without looking up. He traced his finger along our path, stopping. “We’re right around here and the city we’re trying to get to is here.” He indicated a nearly spot on the map. We sat there, discussing our plans for the next day. Finding a place to live was going to be a delicate task. Primarily, we needed a place that would be structurally safe – something near a mountain or foothill, ideally, or in a dense forest. We agreed that living in the city did not seem like the best option, for fear of looters and the like. It was likely a popular location, being the largest city for a fairly substantial radius. Because of the size of the city and subsequently, its likely popularity, we wanted to approach it cautiously, hoping to find a place on the outskirts of the city. Unfortunately, the map did not indicate landscape features, and thus, we would need to scope out the outskirts in person.
We had just begun to pack the map away and prepare for bed when a scream shattered the still night. Max hurried to Amy’s side, but when she saw him kneeling beside her, she screamed again, cowering back. I felt sick, confused as well as frustrated at how helpless I felt to deal with this situation. Why was Amy reacting this way to her father? It did not make sense. Should his presence not be comforting? But, as if in answer to my thoughts, at a few whispered words from Max, Amy’s cries subsided and she buried herself deep into her sleeping bag. I rubbed at a headache that was beginning to throb in my forehead. Surely it would help if we could pinpoint what was causing Amy’s nightmares. She would not talk of them, but perhaps as her father, Max, would know where these nightmares were stemming from. I turned to Max, who had just gotten up from where he had been kneeling. I nodded for him to come over.
“Max,” I began in a low voice when he had gotten near, “What do you think is causing Amy’s nightmares?”
Max stiffened, his eyes glistening with – fear? – a moment before glazing over to match his blank expression.
“I don’t know.” He turned to walk away, but I grabbed his arm.
“Wait.” I commanded, “Max, this is important. We need to figure out how to help Amy get over these nightmares, or none of us will be getting any sleep!”
He shrugged my arm off and it felt like a slap. He never behaved coldly to me before. We had never even really argued until today.
“I said I don’t know, Katherine.” His eyes danced now with little embers just waiting to ignite in anger, but he only met my eyes for a moment.
“I don’t believe you!” I winced internally as my voice rose, despite my better judgement. “You know what’s scaring her, or you have a guess at least! Why can’t you tell me? I can help!” My angry breaths came fast and hard. I could feel he was keeping something from me and I could not understand why.
“You have to trust me, Katherine.” Max softened his voice, stepping towards me. “I need to deal with this on my own.”
“Why?” I asked, pleading. It frightened me that he was keeping something from me.
Max stepped another foot closer, closing the distance between us. He grabbed my shoulders, squeezing them uncomfortably tightly. I flinched, trying to pull away from him, but he held me there. A new fear developed in the pit of my stomach. Max could kill me, might kill me, just like he did that man.
“Katherine, you need to understand.” His eyes were blazing with intensity, only frightening me more.
“Please” I whispered, tears stinging my eyes, “You’re scaring me.”
The fire died within his eyes, and he blinked, as if realizing for the first time what he was doing. His grip loosened.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He sighed, “I’m just frustrated and tired.” I nodded, looking at the ground. He gently tugged me towards him. I let him, and he held me in his arms. It was an odd mix of comfort and fear.
“I will sort this out.” He whispered, “I just need you to trust me.”
I nodded. Not so much from my own agreement, as from fear.
