She’d laugh. She knew this, someday she’d laugh when she thought back on this memory. However, at the moment, it wasn’t funny. It was as dark as the cold cell she once occupied in the not-too-distant past. She’d slipped into the supply cupboard and grabbed one of the backpacks loaded with gear on her way out. They kept these for emergency evacuations. It was her mother’s idea, of course. Always prepared. She wasn’t sure what her family would discover first, that she was missing or that a backpack had vanished. It didn’t matter now.
She’d been walking on highway 101 since then. It was the only road that led straight to Astoria and she was traveling it in the pitch dark now. The moonlight seemed to have chosen to stay behind with the coastline, unwilling to go on this journey with her. The wind had picked up too, or that’s what she told herself. The sounds she heard in the forest lining the winding road belonged to creatures she’d rather not meet in person. They shuffled the forest floor debris around enough to make her think they were at least as big as a cougar or a bear. Nah…she didn’t want to think about that now.
Calculating in her mind the last time she’d seen Jason, it was right before her mother called them into action. Right before the invaders came to them. He must’ve left right then, leading Wren to believe this plan had been set in place without her knowledge and even Jason had kept the secret from her. She knew he’d worked on something, but she had no idea it was this. In her opinion, it was her mother who was being reckless now. Reckless with Jason’s life. With that knowledge, she had to be at least eight hours behind him. She could only try. “If I stick to the road, eventually I’ll come across him. I’ll go as far as I can and turn around and go back. What can she do to me now? Ground me?” Then a tingle ran up her spine. Because she thought her mother might do just that. It was a bad idea to underestimate her mother, she conceded.
Clearing her mind, she put one foot in front of the other. She trudged on through the darkness, her boots landing on the asphalt with a repetitive beat. She’d camp soon. At the same time, she knew her family would figure out she was missing. She regretted that. She regretted the pain she might bring them. But she had to do what she had to do. In the process, she’d teach them that she wasn’t fragile any longer. They’d underestimated her abilities. She could be of use. This would prove to them she was capable again.
Hours later, her pace slowed. The wind had long ago carried enough moisture with it to soak her jacket and jeans. They clung to her then, pressing cold moisture against her skin like a cuddly wet eel. Must find shelter. She stopped, adjusted the heavy backpack on her shoulders, and looked both left and right, only finding equal darkness. Since it didn’t matter, she chose to go to the left and dropped down first into the ditch and then scurried up into the forest.
“Shelter,” she said to herself, having learned the importance long ago. In no time, she’d set up the one-man tent connected to her backpack. It was a simple device and would at least keep her dry through the night. She need only unpack the roll and slide in the poles. It was like sliding into a safety cocoon. Of course, she couldn’t help but remember Mae saying when they’d practiced how to set them up that instead of a safety cocoon, they seemed more like a bear burrito. “Crap, Mae,” she said out loud, then and now. “Do you have to do that?”
“Yes,” her sister had replied. That wasn’t a comforting thought and because of that she checked herself again for the rifle she kept slung over her shoulder and just for insurance the Glock, strapped to her side, that she also lifted from the cabinet on her way out of town. The extra rounds as well…she patted against the storage belt she wore around her thin waist, not trusting them inside the backpack.
“No fire tonight,” she whispered to herself not wanting to risk detection. Instead she shook out two handwarmers and placed them against her core for now. Keeping herself warm was the key to survival. While inside the zippered tent, Wren pulled out the rations kept inside each backpack. Though she contemplated fasting for the rest of the day, she knew that wasn’t a good idea for tonight. Instead, she opened the pack and found a freeze-dried packet of ready-made meals. She need only add water. Packets of water were included, though Wren had already placed a tarp outside to collect as much rainwater as possible for drinking the next day. For now, she’d use one of the packets to mix the meal with. “And it’s going to be a cold meal for me tonight,” she said to herself. Pulling out the included spork, she laid back after taking a bite of the mushy, cold, rehydrated mystery meal of the day, thinking perhaps Jason was performing the same ritual as she was now. He’d gone through her mother’s training just as she had. He knew what to do. She hoped he remembered. She hoped he was well. She prayed he’d stay that way and that his tent didn’t become a burrito snack for a bear.
Then, long after her meal was complete, Wren had fallen asleep in fits and starts. The wind had picked up, flapping at the tent’s fabric. Wren dreamt of folding her laundry, setting her loose socks to the side, then finding out in the end, she was missing the match to two of them. They were her favorites. Ones she always grabbed first and could not understand how they’d become separated. She accused her sister Mae of pulling a prank and began tearing the room they shared apart in frustration. Wren woke with a start, sitting straight up and realizing her tent was being ravaged by the wind, causing the zipper to pull down a few inches and leaving the fabric to baffle wildly.