Returning Home
"No need to panic," they said.
"The situation is under control," they said.
What are they saying now? Nothing. It's hard to talk if you're dead.
The grumbling of my empty stomach and the chill from the cave wall behind me disrupted my depressing train of thought. I open my eyes to a pitch black setting and blink them a few times just to make sure they aren't still shut. Shifting slightly from my slumped position against the wall, the sound echoing slightly around me, I can feel how weak I am from not having eaten properly for days.
The nuclear fallout had come without warning. Authorities and nuclear engineers had been telling the media for months that the worldwide cases of violent earthquakes would have no effect on the large nuclear plants that had sprung up all over the globe over the past few years. That was until one day a sudden warning went out over all the media outlets, telling us to find protection immediately. The explosion happened not minutes after the announcement, an impossible amount of time for anyone to find significant protection against an apocalyptic nuclear blast. If it hadn't been for my Brittany, practically tossing me into the cave I currently found myself in, I would be a disintegrated pile of ash.
Brittany. I hadn't seen her since the last look we shared before I turned and ran deeper into the cave, leaving her to roll the boulder across the entrance. For some reason she had never joined me in the back of the cave, but I had been warned not to go near the surface as a precaution against radiation so I never returned to the entrance to find her.
My stomach grumbled again, this time audibly, and I clutched it slightly as sharp pains of hunger shot through my abdomen. I leaned my head back against the hard cave wall, shutting my eyes, breathing slowly to try and stop the ache. The large supply of food and water I had stored was gone, even from me only eating when was absolutely necessary. I knew if I was to have any hope of finding Brittany, or anyone else, I would have to leave the shelter eventually. The racking pains in my stomach told me it was time to make my move.
I slowly felt my way up the long tunnel towards the entrance, legs faltering slightly with fatigue. Suddenly my hands came in contact with an indent in the wall, and I realized that this was the rock sealing the cave. From what I gathered by feeling with my hands, the stone on the outside was larger than the hole to the cave, which only meant that the cave could only have been closed by pushing the rock against it from the outside. The plan was a smart one, considering the force of the blast would then press the stone harder against the entrance, sealing it tightly, but my heart plummeted when I realized that there was no way Brittany could have survived after doing so.
I managed to find a thick piece of slate which I wedged into the crack. After quite a bit of time, and even more effort, I managed to pry the stone away, and light flooded into the cave.
Immediately I was assaulted with an invasive burning smell. I squinted my eyes against the dim glare of the smoke-coated sky before glancing at the grayscale horizon in front of me.
The city I had once called my home extended in front of me, if it could still be described as a city. The only solid surfaces left standing were solemn blocks of concrete, stripped bare of any other material except for the odd few with melted remains of metal still clinging onto the edges. No form of vegetation was in sight, only what looks like gravel coating the ground that extends behind the cave and in the opposite direction of the city.
Hesitantly I take a few steps forward, driven by the hunger gnawing at my stomach and the faint sliver of hope that somehow, somewhere, Brittany may still be alive. Puffs of dust, or ash, lift every time my one of my feet hit the ground. I keep my eyes forward as I walk, afraid to look down in case I see the burnt remains of something recognizable.
As I shuffle my way down a street on the outskirts of the city there is no sound, not even an echo off of the dead walls around me. Turning around a blackened corner, a small movement further down the street catches my eye. Startled, I jerk my head around to face it, only to be greeted by a furious headache as I realize that I probably haven't had a sip of water in days. As the aching subsides, I resume my walking, this time towards the movement I had seen earlier. Suddenly I see it again, accompanied by the soft patter of footsteps receding around yet another corner.
I give a small cry as I move towards the disruption, trying to catch the person's attention. Rounding the corner I come to a sudden halt as I see Brittany turn around to face me.
"I thought I told you to stay in the shelter." She says, a ghostly smile on her face.
Tears of happiness are leaving warm tracks down my face as I move forward to embrace her, but she takes a step back, still what that eerie smile on her face. Confused, I shuffle forward again, only for her to move even further away. A dusty gust of wind blows into my face, and I blink quickly to clear my eyes, looking up to find the previously occupied space in front of me empty.
Before I can register this, I stumble slightly as a wave of dizziness overcomes me. I gasp, trying to regain my balance, and dry air burns down my throat, reminding me of how water-deprived my body is. Propping myself against a nearby wall, not quite thinking clearly, I hear Brittany's voice again behind me.
"Santana."
I turn around to find her standing a few steps away, a saddened look on her face. "I missed you."
I frown at her slightly, still holding onto the wall in order to stand and hardly able to think straight.
"And don't even get me started about your mother," she continues, her expression changing into an amused one, "No matter how many times I tell her that you can take care of yourself, she still won't stop worrying."
"My mother? Do you mean my family is alive? All of them?" I gasp, shocked, but with a part of me still knowing that this isn't possible. "How?"
That ghostly smile passes across her face again, and she holds out her hand. "Come with me, they'll be so glad to see you're back home. I know I am."
I reach out and intertwine my fingers with hers, that small part of me skeptical that the feeling of her skin against mine is real. After a short distance of walking alongside her, my dilapidated state does not allow me to go any further and my legs give way, causing me to tumble to the ground and release my grasp on her hand. I lay on the hard surface unmoving until I feel her strong arms wrap around me as she sits and pulls me into her lap, cradling my head in the crook of her elbow.
"Brit," I mumble, eyes closing, believing that it actually is Brittany there holding me, "I'm so tired."
"I know," She replies as I feel her place a small kiss on top of my head, "just rest for a while, we have plenty of time. We'll keep going when you wake up." I feel a strand of hair being brushed out of my face and hear her whisper something else softly, but can't make out the words through my fatigue.
"What did you say?" I manage to breath out as I lay content in her arms, the darkness already enveloping me.
She whispers it again, this time a little bit louder:
"I love you."