After the Fall

A soft breeze brushed against his face, the August sun still warm on his cheeks. Collin laid amongst the brush of what had once been a cornfield, the world around him quiet and peaceful. His mother called his name from the back porch, stirring him from his daydream. He stood up and looked across the field to see her waving for him to come back. His feet had to make large strides to avoid the brush and often times he would stumble. His mother's calls became more urgent and the tone in her voice caused him to look up again. He witnessed several bright streaks of light burn through the clouds above him.

Collin jolted from his dream, his breathing erratic at first, but calmed quickly. It was the same dream, every night. It was a relic of the life he once had. He would think back to his family and his tiny little single-wide trailer plopped in an old cornfield in that tiny little town of Alabama. Even the name of the place was a ghost to him now. All that remained was ash, and names meant little. His hands wiped at the dust on his pale face and slowly rose from his make-shift bed. He knew he was somewhere between Georgia and North Carolina but that was as close of a guess he could make. The world had become so much different after The Fall.

He gathered his things in the olive drab satchel he had found among the debris of his father's things. There was little to save but he managed to salvage some clothing and canned goods. It had taken him a long time to leave town but when he realize help was not coming for the only survivor of his home, he knew he had to look for help. He had learned a lot in the few months he had been alone, being cautious being the most important. Collin stepped out the gaping hole within the half-broken grocery store he had taken shelter in just as the sun attempted to light the sky. The color was distorted to crimson through the haze that remained in the air, but he knew it was dawn.

Collin removed his father's survival guide from the pack before tossing it on his back. He had read it multiple times, along with the Bible his grandmother had given him. It was the only two books he had been able to save from his home. For that he had been lucky, one kept him sane and the other kept him alive. He tried to remember the things his father had taught him and wished he had paid more attention. His feet shuffled through the debris of another tiny town that no longer had a name. It had been weeks since he had seen another person, which had frightened him at first but now it was a relief.

When Collin was young he had always thought that most people were good. He had the naive notion that if he truly needed help he could find it within walking distance. His neighbors had always seemed like nice people. His dream was shattered after the event. It was shocking to what lengths people would go to in order to survive. He witnessed his old bus driver put a bullet in a woman's head for a can of Spaghetti-O's. There was no going back after that. He could not even remember the last time he had spoken. He only let his father's 9mm Beretta do the talking.

By the time the sun had rested directly above him, he came upon a large sign that read, "Welcome to South Carolina". Collin stood stoic, the words almost alien to him. He had never been this far from home. He had tried to find his aunt in Georgia but the landmarks had been so distorted from the damage he could not discern his true location. Everything was burnt and broken, even him. He brushed away tears from his eyes as he continued forward into the blank canvas before him and wondered if anything would be created here ever again.

Cars lined both lanes of the highway he traversed. Bodies lay frozen in time within each seat. The television broadcast had told large cities to evacuate and they all tried. What the report did not inform them of was the fact that there was nowhere to run to. Collin stopped to examine each vehicle, looking for anything of use. His eyes rested on a small car seat in the back of an SUV, the skeletal remains of a child still secured tightly inside. His fingers brushed across his face, feeling the scars from his own burns and thinking of his younger brother. He had to shake off his despair, he could not break down in the open, it was not safe. Nowhere was.

Collin passed through what was probably once a bustling main street, crumpled buildings greeted him at every step. The sun was falling and he knew he would need shelter. The night had brought its own pitfalls. The more troublesome members of society had taken over the dark. Most of them had learned that people moved at night to avoid detection and had started hunting in the twilight hours. He made sure to not be their prey, finding shelter in an abandoned gas station. He had always hated the dark but this was something different. Now that the moon no longer guided the night, it was like being plunged into oblivion.

His body curled up behind a crumpled countertop, resting his head upon his satchel. Clouds rolled in the distance, tinted purple by the ash of the sky. He could smell the tainted moisture that filtered the air. There was a storm on the horizon, which meant there would be less movement in the night. The raging of Mother Nature use to frighten him as a child, but it was a shield in times like these. Collin knew he would be able to sleep soundly for the first time in over two weeks and his lips curled slightly into a smile as lightning split the sky. His eyes fluttered in the darkness and were lulled to sleep by the rhythm of thunder.

His younger brother Danny pounced on him, reminding him that Saturday morning cartoons were on. Collin rubbed the sleep from his eyes and made his way to the living room. With a click of the remote he appeased his brother and yawned as he walked to the kitchen. He would make them both a bowl of Lucky Charms and sit quietly until his parents woke up. They sat and giggled with each other at the antics on screen until their fun was disrupted by an emergency broadcast. Tornado sirens wailed in the distance, but Collin saw no clouds out the window across from them. The sound had startled his mother and soon both of his parents stood beside them, eyes fixed on the screen. It had been their first warning of what was to come.

Collin was startled by the sound of rustling within the gas station. He pulled the pistol from his coat and eased around the counter. The sun had not come yet and he could barely see. His pale blue eyes were even worse for seeing in this darkness, but his ears had become sharp. The sound of cans and bottles being rummaged through were like a beacon he honed in on. When he was sure he knew where the intruder was located he lifted to aim. The sound of the safety releasing caused the figure to pause, dropping their loot. They did not move and Collin froze as well, not knowing if they had a weapon or not. His body shook as he slowly applied pressure to the trigger.

“Please, if you have a gun don’t shoot,” the voice of a child called out, “I am just looking for food, not trying to start any trouble.”

Collin’s voice replied, raspy from lack of use, “Anyone with you?”

“N-no sir,” the child whimpered.

“Then take what you need and leave, that’s your last warning,” he barked.

Tiny feet shuffled in the dark, grabbing at things Collin could not see. He followed the sound until it exited the store. He listened intently as the steps drew further away from him and even after they were gone he could not go back to sleep. He simply sat gripping his weapon until the daylight allowed him to see. The store was a mess and the kid must have been knocking things over to try and tell what they were grabbing for. Collin felt guilty for not helping, but he had seen far too many people lured into traps by children. He could not risk it.

Once Collin could see his surroundings more clearly he exited the gas station, a few extra rations in tote. His pistol scanned the area, making sure he was alone. He circled the tiny building and checked nearby cars but there was no sign of the kid. When he returned to the front of the store his eyes fell on an old newspaper stand. The stacks of paper still read the headline, “The End?” He had seen that page thousands of times and knew the article word-for-word. He wondered if any other newspapers were still printing after the event. He wanted to read a different story for once.

From what Collin understood the Earth had been pelted with several large asteroids. They had rained down in the atmosphere like buckshot and destroyed several communication satellites on their descent. The smaller objects burnt up in their entry but the larger bodies stayed intact until they collapsed in a burning display of light. A force emitted from each of these that leveled most structures, something they referred to as an “asteroid air burst”. Apparently, it was not an unknown phenomena but nothing on this scale had ever happened before. The initial damage and lack of proper communication is all it took to send civilization, as they knew it, to a halt and left the world around him a primal version of what it once was.

Collin pulled a tattered road atlas from his pack and trailed the road he thought he was on with his finger. He had made a point to avoid large cities due to the level of damage and major highways that seemed to attract the more dangerous members of society. From what he could tell he was north of Augusta, Georgia near a small town called Clarks Hill, South Carolina. His exact location was unclear but he was sure he was on the right track. He had no other family, at least none he had found and had decided to go north. He had heard rumors of places untouched in Canada and that was his only hope.

His hand shoved the map back into the bag and before he began walking again. The first hundred miles had been far easier, before someone stole his bicycle. He thought about his tenth birthday, when his father rolled out that ten-speed with the biggest grin on his face. His family had never been rich, by any means, so a gift like this was a big deal. Collin remembered riding it until late in the night before his mother made him come inside. The growling of his stomach broke him from his day dream and again he had to brush a salty speck from his cheek before reaching for a bag of beef jerky. A couple bits dropped on his tongue and he chewed, remembering how teriyaki flavor had always been his dad’s favorite.

Collin was approaching an intersection and he would usually take a moment to double check his location at places like this but something about this one felt wrong. There were more cars in this particular crossroad than there should be in a rural area like this. His eyes scanned the area as he came to a stop behind a large Ford pickup. Two sets of cars seemed to block the left and right passage and the direct route held an overturned school bus. Someone had created a blockade here, a rather large blockade. He saw no movement ahead, but that meant nothing. Any number of people could be hiding within the abandoned vehicles. He quickly removed his pistol and slowly made his way to the trees to his left.

He followed the road from the tree line, watching intently for any sign of life. Collin’s steps were deliberate, making sure to step heel-to-toe in order to create as little noise as possible. He could hear his heart beat within his ears, it echoed at him as a warning. He knew what he was doing was stupid but he had to keep going forward and could not risk getting lost. As he approached the far side of the intersection he heard voices. The sound made him creep even slower and drop down to crouch. There seemed to be a scuffle of some sort just around the end of the bus but he could not see clearly.

Collin crossed behind a van, kneeling down and looking underneath toward the commotion. Three men stood over a young African American boy, rummaging through a torn backpack. They seemed to be looking for anything of value but only found a few cans of beans and child-size clothing. One of the men kicked the boy, which caused him to cry out in pain. Collin’s eyes drew open wide, instantly recognizing the voice from the night before. He had always hated bullies and his first instinct was the run for the boy and almost started sprinting but one of the men turned to reveal a 20 gauge shotgun within his hands.

The more he watched, he realized they all had weapons. Each had a pistol holstered at their hip and the other two held hunting rifles, complete with scope. This made Collin realize that the only reason he had been able to approach was that they were too preoccupied with the boy. He argued with himself internally on what to do, watching as they spat and kicked the child repeatedly. Then one of them pulled their pistol, aiming it to the back of the boy’s head.

One of the men yelled, “What are you doing Earl?”

“He’s got nothing we want Ned and he’s gonna die out here anyway,” his friend replied.

Collin snapped into motion, his feet moved before his mind even registered the action. Within seconds he had rounded the bus, dropped the safety, and emptied half of a clip into the three men. The shock forced the leader of the group to release a shot into the air but the other dropped before they could fire. The boy lay on the asphalt, covering his ears from the sound and crying. Collin’s heart felt like it was about to beat out of his chest before the reality of what he had done came crashing down on him. His hands hung limply by his sides as he fell to his knees. He had never actually had to kill anyone and it was hard for him to process.

He sat, staring down at his hands and feeling like a monster. Soon his face was soaked by his inability to hold back his despair. The boy slowly crawled over to Collin, placing a hand on top of his knee. Collin jumped, not used to being touched, almost falling back.

“Thanks, mister,” the young man said through sobs as he slowly got to his feet. It took a good fifteen minutes for Collin to compose himself and get up from the road. He shuffled around the men as the boy searched each one for anything useful. They all looked like the kind of men that would have been buddies with his father. The idea that the world had become so horrible in just a few months was torture and he had hoped he would not have had to become one of its monsters.

Collin grabbed one of the rifles, an extra pistol, and as much ammo he could carry. He only took one can of food and a bottle of water. He left the rest for the kid and began walking north again. The boy followed a few feet behind and Collin simply ignored him for about a mile. They both walked in silence until his new companion decided to speak. He repeated how thankful he was for the help and came closer to Collin. When the boy was walking beside him he noticed a small hand reach over, as if wanting to give him a handshake.

“My name’s Anthony, but everybody calls me Tony,” he tried to smile through a swollen lip.

The older of the two stopped and scratched his head for a moment and finally took hold of the kids’ hand. He shook it gently, not sure how hurt Tony was.

“I’m…Collin,” he sighed, “So, are you gonna just keep following me now?”

“No, a matter of fact, I was headed this way anyway,” he smirked, “You might say you are following me.”

Collin shook his head and started walking again, “Whatever you say, kid.” They continued this way for the next day, mostly silence until Tony decided to spark up a conversation. It was usually silly things that did not matter anymore, like old television programs or comic books. Collin never said much but did not completely ignore the boy. The way Tony spoke reminded him of his younger brother and something about that was comforting. The two finally came upon an old farmhouse tucked back inside the tree line and since darkness would be on them soon Collin told Tony to follow him to it.

Collin handed Tony a pistol and made sure he knew how to use it, pointing out the safety switch on the side. He told the boy to wait by a tree nearby until he could search the house. The older of the two disappeared into the dark structure, moving from wall-to-doorway with his pistol trained on anything within his immediate view. He remembered the basics of breach and clear tactics, not just from his father but from so many years playing first-person shooter games. He hoped it was enough to keep himself safe. When each room was found empty he returned to the front door and whistled for Tony to come inside. They made themselves at home within the living room and had been lucky enough to find a small kerosene lamp to fight back the night.

Tony attempted to entertain Collin with horrible knock-knock jokes as they passed a can of Frank ‘n Beans across the small wooden coffee table. The scene almost felt normal to Collin and he started to forget what the world had become around him but with every sound from outside the door, his eyes would jerk toward the window. Each time he would search the surrounding area before coming back inside and eventually the routine had become exhausting. He just wanted to get some sleep before they had to start walking again in the morning.

“Enough jokes, let’s get some rest,” his voice being much harsher than he intended.

Tony’s head lowered before he slid back to the couch, “Sorry, just use to talking with my brothers before bed.”

Collin felt like a jackass and shook his head, “No, I’m sorry kid. I forget I’m not the only person to lose people. I should remember that,” before taking a seat across from his companion.

“And I don’t understand why you keep calling me a kid,” Tony barked, “You don’t look much older than me.”

Tony was right, Collin was only sixteen when the event occurred. He sat quietly for a moment, thinking about this, he had felt so old lately. He did not want to admit he had no real idea what he was doing but he was afraid to stop. There had to be something better than what he had come to know and he had to find it. Tony turned and noticed the fear in Collin’s eyes, which made him uneasy.

The boy spoke to break the tension, “So, how old are you anyway?”

“How old are you?” Collin said as he snapped back to reality.

“I asked first,” Tony said, sticking out his tongue in mockery.

“I’m older, so that trumps who asked first,” Collin replied in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Fine,” the boy huffed, “I’m ten, well what month is it?”

Collin pondered for a moment, “Should be November.”

“Then I’m eleven this month,” Tony beamed.

“What day is your birthday?” the older of the two asked.

“The twenty-ninth,” Tony replied.

“Same day as mine,” Collin laughed slightly under his breath, which was the first time he had done that since before The Fall. They both joked about sharing a birthday party and baking a cake. Of course, Collin knew this was all fantasy and probably would never happen. He knew that either of them could be dead at any moment, but he did not want to crush the boy’s dream.

“I will be seventeen this month,” he finally answered the boy’s question.

Collin dreamed of January, his family huddled around the tiny kitchen table as his younger brother sat in front of a large chocolate cake adorned with twelve lit candles. They sang happy birthday and their mother told Danny to make a wish. The young man’s eyes glowed with excitement before taking in a deep breath and extinguishing all of them but one. The remaining candle made Danny frown but Collin leaned over and put it out with a huff. “I didn’t see it still lit, you got ‘em all,” he said with a chuckle.

He was startled from his dream by the sound of an engine roaring to life. He shot up from the couch to notice Tony was no longer inside. He grabbed his pistol and rushed outside as a rusty old Chevy truck plowed through the field in front of him. Tony sat bouncing in the driver’s seat, with a grin from ear-to-ear. Collin bolted from the front steps, bounding across the field. He yelled for the boy to stop but his calls could not be heard over the truck. He finally came across the path and waved for Tony to stop. Tony’s eyes shot open wide as he slammed on the brakes.

The truck came to a stop, kicking up dust, just a foot from Collin. He rushed to the driver’s side, turned off the engine and yanked Tony out before screaming, “What in the hell do you think you are doing?”

Tony’s eyes welled up, “Just wanted to have a little fun, at this rate I’m never going to get to drive a car and I don’t know why you don’t, would be a lot better than walking everywhere.”

Collin’s voice was still booming, “Listen I didn’t get to practice enough before all this shit happened, ok? Plus, don’t you think all that racket is bound to draw some attentio-“

His words were stopped in his throat by the sound of another truck. Collin had been right and someone now knew where they were. He quickly jerked Tony up and began running for the house. Within moments the door shut behind them and they tossed their things into their bags. Collin peered out the window to see a huge four-wheel drive stop outside the farmhouse, two men inside and two more standing in the bed of it holding rifles. They all climbed down and began calling for the two to come out. They had already been spotted and now they were trapped inside.

Collin whispered for the boy to follow him upstairs. They crept slowly up the wood planks and made their way to a bedroom that overlooked the men. Then Collin instructed Tony to go to the side window and open it. As the boy did this, Collin brought his rifle up to aim. He peered down the scope and dropped the reticle at about neck-level of one of the gunmen. Collin told Tony to let off a few rounds as soon as he took his shot. He squeezed the trigger slowly, remembering to exhale as he drew it all the way back.

The crack of the rifle caused Tony to jump, his finger jamming down on the trigger of the pistol again and again. The first man fell to the ground, blood spurting from the side of his neck. The other men scattered at the repeated popping of the pistol. They attempted to seek cover behind their truck but Collin was already trained in on the next one. The bolt dropped the next round in place and he fired, sending a round through the next one’s chest. Another round chambered and fired within seconds, shattering the driver’s knee as he tried to run. The last had made a dash across the field but Collin’s last round buried deep in the back of his skull before passing through the other side.

When he lowered the rifle Tony was still clicking away at the pistol, having no ammo left in the clip. Collin took the pistol from Tony’s hands, shoved it back in the holster he had stolen and guided the boy down the stairs. They exited the front door to see that the driver was still trying to crawl for his truck. Tony was told to remain on the porch as Collin approached the injured man, he stood over him for a moment as the man rolled over to come face-to-face with Collin’s rifle. A final shot rang out in the open field before the two gathered their belongings and started their trek back to the road in silence.

An hour later Tony attempted to apologize, “I’m sorry.”

Collin stopped walking and without even looking back to the boy began yelling, “If you want to survive you are going to have to listen to what I say and start acting less like a little kid. You keep running around and joking about this situation you’re going to be dead, Danny!”

Then he started walking again, leaving Tony speechless behind him. Tony kept his distance for the rest of the day. They did not even speak during meals or breaks. It was the longest day either of them could remember and by the time they came to rest at a deserted diner they were simply ready to call it a night. Collin closed his eyes, his pistol resting in his lap. Tony sat across from him, staring at the pistol for a few moments. He had never seen anyone act like Collin did and questions bubbled up inside him. One question in particular.

“You called me Danny,” he almost whispered.

Collin peeked out to the boy, “What?”

“Back on the road today, you called me Danny. Who’s Danny?” Tony finally asked.

Collin shook his head for a moment, “Don’t worry about it.”

Tony was afraid to push Collin anymore, he knew it would just make things worse. He shuffled against his backpack and tried to get comfortable as the sun disappeared over the horizon. Collin turned away from the boy as he felt the salty tears form at the corner of his eyes. The two of them lay in silence for hours before they could actually fall asleep. When both drifted off to a restless sleep they dreamed of the same thing and it wasn’t birthday cake or presents.

Collin simply nudged the boy awake with his boot and tossed him his backpack. He had already been up a couple hours and had stocked up on what few things were still edible from the diner. They began walking again and found themselves passing through a tiny neighborhood. Each house looked similar, yet minor differences drew their attention. They both quietly admired the change of scenery, it had been all trees for quite some time. Collin’s eyes trained on the windows most of all, his rifle in hand. Tony had even kept a pistol in his pocket now, knowing danger could be around any corner. They had both become hardened by this world even though neither of them were truly ready for it.

Then Collin’s eyes came to rest on something laying in the grass. It was shiny and new, even though it was more of a purple than the blue one he had. He slowly picked up the bicycle, pressing on the tires to check for air. They were firm and he knew they could use it to move a little quicker. He waved Tony over and sat on the seat, then gestured for Tony to hop on the back pegs. The two of them began rolling down the hill and the breeze on their face reminded them of a better time. Collin wanted to yell out with excitement but he knew it would be a bad idea. When the hill tapered off the bike came to a stop at a sign that read, “30 Miles to Charlotte”.

Collin’s fun had been dampened at the thought and he simply pulled out his map. They would need to turn north to avoid the city and he began plotting a path. Tony slipped off the bike and walked over in front of it, reaching up and pulling the paper down so that Collin could see him.

“You feel like talking to me now?” the boy said in an almost bashful tone.

“Just didn’t have anything to say,” Collin replied before pulling his map back up.

“You could start by telling me who Danny is,” Tony quipped.

Collin closed the atlas and shoved it back in his satchel with a sigh. He rubbed at his eyes and tried to think of the right words. He tried not to think about his little brother but Tony was a constant reminder of his mistakes. He wanted to tell Tony the truth and just get it out. It was the first time he even had someone to talk to in months. Collin was simply afraid that Tony might leave and never come back.

“He was my little brother, about your age actually,” he finally let it slip.

“Was?” Tony’s face wrinkled in confusion for a moment, but soon realized his mistake, “I’m sorry, what happened?”

“He died,” Collin replied before looking at the ground where his foot kicked at the asphalt.

“Before or after?” the boy quickly responded.

“After,” was all Collin could say.

Tony wanted to ask why, he wanted to hug his new friend and tell him it would be, “Ok”. Something in him told him that it wasn’t the right time and he knew it was getting late. So, he simply climbed back on the bike and tapped Collin on the shoulder before pointing forward. The bike whipped to the left, putting them on a more northern route. The pedals whirred as they left the tiny neighborhood and their small moment of happiness behind. They disappeared over a hill clouded in the ashy smoke that brought them back to the world they truly lived in.

By the end of the following day, they found themselves rolling down Burke Street in Rhodiss, South Carolina. Their light was fading and decided to take refuge in a small Dollar General store. As usual, Collin swept the property before allowing Tony to come inside. The two of them scoured the aisles for any supplies. Most of the good canned food had been taken but there were able to find a few bags of dry beans. Collin found a first aid kit and Tony waved a few flashlights that still worked down the aisle to his friend. This meant they did not have to spend another night in the dark, at least until the batteries ran out. They barricaded themselves in the manager’s office and gorged themselves on the snack cakes that had not gone stale. It was the closest to a birthday party they were going to get but it was just as good as long as they were together.

When they emerged in the morning Collin removed his map and showed Tony the route they would have to take. It would put them crossing a bridge, which he hated to do, but it would save them the hours it would take to go around. They mounted their bicycle and quickly descended on the bridge. Their eyes fell on the crumpled remains of the landing and what was once a passage across the lake now lay in the water. The two slowly descended to the docks, looking up and down the shore to look for another bridge.

Tony hopped off the bike and ran down the shore a bit, pointing toward what appeared to be a dam in the distance. He waved to Collin, drawing his attention to their salvation. A smile grew on Collin’s face, he really did not want to have to go back and around the water. The bike began to roll forward as Tony came running back. The two boys met back at a small building up from the landing and decided to make their way toward the dam. A whistling noise caught Collin’s attention and he stopped the bike just as an arrow struck him in his right shoulder. Tony screamed at the sight and started toward him but Collin yelled for him to run for cover.

Tony dove behind a pile of canoes and Collin began pedaling as fast as he could. His eyes scanned the buildings as he went and just before he passed beyond a building another arrow buried into the wall beside him. His body fell from the seat of the bicycle and he began crawling behind a storage container. The two boys were only ten feet from each other but without knowing where the shots came from it might as well have been miles. Tony cried into his hands, trying to be silent because Collin had already taught him how important that was.

Collin looked down at the shiny projectile that jutted from his jacket, the red dyed the cloth quickly around it. He was in immense pain but he could not let that stop him now. The two of them were still in a lot of danger. Collin tried to peer over the crate but the roof over him blocked most of his view. He knew the shot must have come from an elevated position but he could not see any open windows or rooftops. He pointed to Tony, then to his eyes, then back out toward the building across from them. It took the boy a minute to understand but then shuffled to the other side of the canoes. Tony inched over one of them and searched the area.

An arrow punctured the hull of a nearby boat, which sent Tony diving for the ground. He tried to whisper something but Collin could not make it out. Then the boy pointed to his eyes, then across the street, and made an arch from his hands that signaled, “roof”. Collin put up his hand, instructed Tony to stay put then eased around the opposite side of the building. As approached the opposite corner he took a quick peek toward the roof. Standing with the bow drawn was a very thin man wearing a hockey mask covered in what appeared to be dried blood.

Collin watched the man for a few moments, seeing that he was still focused on the other side of the building. He moved closer, coming to a small car. He attempted to aim the rifle but pain pulsed through him when he lifted it. He hoisted the barrel over the trunk of the car with his left arm and tried to steady it as best as he could. His breathing had become erratic, causing the reticle on the scope to jump violently. Collin tried to calm himself, he knew he would only get one shot. The crosshairs swayed from the man’s head down to his left arm, which happened to be the one holding the compound bow. His breathing slowed and when his aim was as steady as he could make it his finger pulled the trigger.

The shot grazed the man’s left arm, pieces of his jacket scattered to the wind. He turned and fired an arrow that stuck into the hood of the car in front of Collin. The young man ducked for cover as another arrow was let loose. From the corner of the building he saw Tony, tears streaming down his face. He had used the shot as a distraction to come help but Collin was not sure what to do. They both made their way back around the building and moved back further away from their attacker.

The building was small and would not hide them for long. The man had them at a disadvantage and Collin knew this. Plus, he now stood between them and the dam. They would have to eliminate him but they were not sure how. As they rounded a side-street and attempted to come around to their attackers left, Collin knelt beside a tree and told Tony to take the rifle. He hesitated but Collin simply shoved it in the boy’s hands. Tony shook his head and tried to hand it back but Collin resisted.

“No, I can’t lift it and if we don’t stop this guy we are dead,” he gasped through his pain, “You have to take the shot, kid.”

Tony cried, he had never had to kill anyone and did not want to. Collin could see it in the boy’s eyes and he did not want to have to make this choice. There really was no choice though and he began to tell him what to do. He pointed at the bolt, drawing it back and placing a new round in the chamber. He dropped the bolt closed and told him to bring it up to his shoulder. Collin pushed the stock into Tony’s shoulder hard.

“You got to have a good grip on this one, it has more kick than the pistol. You’re going to want to look through that lens right there and where the two lines meet is what you are aiming for. You try to calm yourself, line up those crosshairs, then take a deep breath. You pull that trigger as you breathe out, slowly and you will be fine,” the word came rushing back to Collin, just the way they had from his father.

Tony crouched and crawled around the tree. He could see the man still searching for them but only the top half of his body was visible. He rose to his knees, trying to brace himself. Collin stood right behind him, reminding him to try to stay calm. The man turned to look in their direction and came close to that side of the roof. Tony began shaking at his feet and it traveled through his whole body. Collin rested a hand on his shoulder and promised it would be alright. The crosshairs danced around a bit and Collin reminded him to shoot for the biggest part of the man’s body he could see. When the two lines intersected over the man’s stomach Tony let out a sigh and pulled the trigger.

The two found their way to a church nearby and Tony sat on a pew as Collin dropped his bag beside him. He told Tony that he needed him to break the back end of the arrow and pull it out. Tony hesitated but Collin insisted, handing him a thick towel. He told him to break the end off, remove it and cover the wound with the towel, stressing the fact that he would need to press hard. Tony was still shaking, but he knew his friend was right. He had seen all this in the movies but he wasn’t sure if he was strong enough. The shaft cracked and broke free, causing Collin to scream out in agony. They both removed the halves of the arrow and covered each side with a towel.

“What happened to Danny, Collin?” Tony’s voice low, his hope dwindling. “I told you he died,” Collin snapped.

“But how Collin? How did he die?” Tony pushed harder for the answer. Collin couldn’t take it anymore, he had almost got both of them killed and now he couldn’t even lift his rifle. His body jerked from his sobs, unable to hold it back anymore. Tony immediately felt horrible for even asking but was not sure what to say. He simply kept pressing the towel against Collin’s shoulder, which was soaked with blood by now.

“I...,” Collin paused, the words not wanting to come, “I c-couldn’t protect him.”

Tony listened as a story was told about two young boys playing in an old corn field. The land had long been without a harvest, his family no longer sowing the seeds. It had been a dream of his grandfather’s and once he was gone no one saw the need. His parents placed their little mobile home on the land to keep his grandmother company. She enjoyed having her grandchildren so close. The boys would spend their evenings and weekends playing in the field and down in the trees behind it. That was until The Fall.

His parents had died trying to protect them. They did not have a shelter but all huddled in the center bathroom of his grandmother’s two-story house. The two boys had been placed inside a large cast iron tub and both parents’s laid over top of them. This was the best shield they had as the heavens rained down on them. When the commotion ended, Collin had to force his parents off of himself and his brother. The medicine cabinet had come crashing down with such a force it had jabbed into their father’s skull and shards of glass protruded from their mother’s neck. Danny cried relentlessly as Collin searched for their grandmother. She had lost hope and they found her body laying outside, still clutching a picture of her late husband.

The weeks that followed Collin could not greave his parents, he had to be strong for his brother. He drug him along while collecting things they would need to travel. His first plan was to make his way to his other grandparent’s house, which was in a town nearby. It would be a long walk but he had no choice he had nowhere else to go. He had already tried to neighbor’s homes, but they had all attempted to flee. Their cars set lifeless a few miles down the road. He shielded Danny’s eyes as they passed. They came to the yard of their bus driver, who had his shotgun in hand. A young woman clutched a can of soup and begged for help. Collin pulled Danny away as the gun fired and the woman fell to the ground. That was the last time he approached people.

Their father taught them to move at night, that way you were less likely to be seen. That might have worked during combat situations but this was a different world. It was only a week into the two boys being alone when the bandits found them. A group of middle-aged men and women had been searching for food and weapons. They took Danny first and Collin drew his father’s pistol. It vibrated in his hands, he’d never had to use it outside target practice and he was not sure if he could kill someone. He aimed it and ordered them to let Danny go, but they refused. Before he could react they tossed his screaming little brother in the back seat of a car and sped off. The shots of the pistol pelted the back of the vehicle but it was no use, Danny was gone.

“So, you see,” Collin looked back to Tony with tears in his eyes, “I couldn’t protect him, I can’t protect you, and I obviously can’t save myself.”

Tony hugged his friend as best as he could without releasing pressure on the towel, “It’s not your fault Collin, we’re just kids. You did the best you could, hell you’ve saved me twice already.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t bring Danny back,” Collin sobbed. “Well, you said they took him. How do you know he’s dead?” Tony questioned.

“You know first-hand what happens to kids that are of no use in this world,” he replied with a cold stare and Tony knew it was true. They both sat quietly. Collin cried himself to sleep and Tony sat up watching over him for hours. Over the next month, Collin made it his mission to teach Tony everything he knew. They both read from the survival guide and the Bible at night. They even found a small home library that offered more information on foraging and handcrafted items. Tony even picked out a few books for entertainment value but Collin was firm on training each day. While Collin healed, Tony became more adept at the world they now lived in and soon Collin felt safe with him by his side. They could protect one another like brothers should, which always made Collin a little sad.

Winter was what they were not prepared for. Neither of them came from places that received much snow. By late December the ground had been coated in white and the two boys found themselves making more frequent stops to rest. Their clothing was not adequate for this type of weather and Collin constantly cursed himself for not being prepared for this. Tony always tried to be his ray of hope and assured him they would find better attire before it got too bad. Collin tried his best to believe his friend, but as the weeks past, that small sliver of hope began to fade.

They had been making poor time already but when they finally reached what should have been the northern portion of Ohio, they knew their map would be almost useless. The rising waters of the Great Lakes had engulfed most of Michigan, turning the state line into beachside coated in snow. They had been moving more west to avoid Columbus and had no choice but to continue in that direction and across Indiana. They had abandoned the bicycle long ago, the snow had risen too high to push through with the tires. Collin stopped at a sign that read, “Kishauwau Country Cabins,” his eyes intent on the words. His will was spent and so was his body. Tony tapped him on the shoulder and asked what was wrong but Collin simply stared at the sign. The wind stung his face and he could no longer feel his toes. They had spent almost two months walking through this and they had only made it to Illinois. Collin knew that if they had to avoid major cities and the rising waters from the lakes then it would be another few months before they reached Canada. He began to regret coming north, he started wishing he had just stayed home and tried to survive there.

“Are you ok, man?” Tony nudged him again.

Collin remembered why he kept going, “I’m cold and I’m tired.”

“No shit, so am I,” Tony quipped.

“I think we should find one of these cabins, get a fire going and hunker down. I don’t think we can survive out here much longer,” Collin replied, barely taking notice of Tony’s remark.

Tony’s eyes lit up at the thought of being warm for a while and took off toward one of the log structures that remained at the camping ground. After a few attempts of finding an unlocked door and failing, Collin simply kicked the door in. They would have to board it shut but at least they were inside. Tony rushed over to the fireplace, seeing that whoever had stocked the cabin left enough wood to get it going. He began lighting kindling and grabbed for the first log while Collin surveyed the place. They had abandoned their normal caution for warmth and he needed to make sure they were safe.

The tiny cabin had a living room, two bedrooms, a small kitchen, and one bathroom. Even if the facility was on a well Collin knew the pipes would have frozen long ago. They would have to melt down snow over the fire to drink and bathe. The fridge was empty but there were a few canned goods left in the small pantry. It wasn’t much but it was something. Tony yelled for Collin, letting him know the fire was ready and Collin grabbed a couple blankets from the bedroom before joining his friend. They both stripped off their dripping coats, shoes, and socks then laid in front of the light as the sun went down. Tony asked what Collin’s plan was from here, but he was silent for a moment.

“Let’s worry about that in the morning,” he finally replied before tossing Tony a thick comforter.

Collin dreamt of lying in the old cornfield again, but this time Danny was right beside him. He turned, staring into his brother’s eyes and noticed malice within them. Danny asked why he had been forgotten so easily and Collin tried to explain through tears. He tried to tell him how sorry he was and that Tony wasn’t a replacement, that he could never replace him. The sky above turned dark and cold, the wind picking up rapidly. Collin looked up as snow began to cover his face and when he looked back Danny’s form was replaced with Tony’s. His friend spoke, “Wake up, wake up Collin!”

Tony stood over Collin, shaking him and trying to get him to open his eyes. Collin’s eyes remained shut but mumbled apologies over and over again. Tony felt his forehead, it was extremely warm and sweat beaded upon it. The young boy could tell his friend was shaking, despite how warm it felt. He knew that Collin must have a fever. The boy dug through their back for the first aid kit, finding a small packet of ibuprofen before grabbing a bottle of water. He heaved Collin up from behind and pushed the pills between his friend’s lips. His hand shook as he tried to pour the water in and get Collin the swallow, begging him to take the medicine. Through his fever-induced haze, Collin choked down the pills. Tony laid him down again and rushed to find a towel, he knew he had to bring down his temperature.

For the next few days, Tony medicated his friend, tried to keep him comfortable and gave as much water as Collin could swallow. They did not have any antibiotics and Tony could only hope Collin was strong enough to fight off whatever infection afflicted him. The boy was scared, but his friend had prepared him to survive. Tony had learned to shoot, track, hunt, and prepare food. Which would come in handy as their stocks were running low. They had not seen many animals but anything would do.

When Collin’s fever broke, Tony decided to go out to look for food. They only had a couple of cans of beans left and he knew that wasn’t enough. Collin would need real food once he woke up. Tony had found a winter coat in one of the bedrooms, it was a little big but it would help keep him warm. He took the pistol, Collin’s hunting knife, and the rifle as he set out into the endless mounds of white. The wind was harsh to his cheeks, but he knew he had no choice.

Collin awoke four hours later, his head pounding, as he scanned the room. A small sliver of paper had the words, “Gone Hunting,” scribbled upon it. This caused him to rush to his feet, knowing Tony should not be out there alone but as soon as his feet came to the floor he stumbled in his weakened state. His body crashed into the couch, sending pain throughout him. He screamed in agony, gagging and coughing in an effort to catch his breath. He called out for his friend but unknown to him Tony was at least a mile away.

Tony sat covered in snow near a small bush, his eyes trained on the slight movements of what appeared to be a snow rabbit. He had been waiting for hours and this was his chance to bring home some meat. His finger pulled the trigger and the shot rang out just before the animal dropped over lifeless. Tony let out a laugh of joy as he ran for his reward, grabbing hold of it and his knife. He quickly skinned and cleaned his kill before burying the unused portion. His feet drug in the snow to cover up any trace of blood or his tracks as he made his way back to the cabin.

When the boy stepped into the cabin Collin almost tackled him in a hug. Collin was sure he had been hurt or taken while out hunting. He squeezed him so tight that it hurt his chest and eventually had to stop and sit back down. A coughing fit erupted from Collin’s chest as Tony sat down the rabbit. He ran for the first aid kit, looking for something that would help with a cough but there was nothing. He returned and asked what he could do to help.

“You came back, that’s enough,” Collin attempted to smile, “So, you got yourself a rabbit?”

Tony grinned, “I got us a rabbit.”

Tony had learned a little about cooking from his mom before the world turned to crap, not necessarily rabbit but he figured it could not be much different. He diced the meat and scrounged the cabinets for any kind of seasoning. There was a bit of salt, pepper, and maybe a sprinkle or two of oregano. It wouldn’t be much but it would add a little flavor to the pot. It boiled over the fire as the Tony detailed his hunting trip. Collin smiled as he listened to every detail. He was glad his friend was safe.

They shared the meat and broth, the warmth of it easing Collin’s throat. It was the first time they felt full in a couple of months. The two of them had not had meat since before the snows. With their bellies full, they huddled by the fire again. Tony pulled out one of the books he had acquired along the way, “Alice in Wonderland,” and began reading. Collin would normally tell him to brush up on something useful, but he felt the boy had earned something more upbeat. He laid there against the couch until he fell asleep. Tony shook Collin violently, “Wake up!”

Collin groggily responded, “What the hell? What’s wrong?”

“There are wolves outside!” the boy yelled.

“That’s not possible, wolves don’t live around here,” Collin responded while trying to go back to sleep, then he heard a very distinct howl.

Collin shot up and to the window, Tony following just behind. In the darkness they could make out three sets of eyes, pacing just beyond the tree line. The wolves had caught the scent of Tony’s kill and followed it back to the cabin. They drew closer, following the smell until one of them was at their door. The other two circled the tiny house, scratching at the wood at random intervals. Collin could only guess that the scarcity of food had drawn them back to a place they rarely visited. Now they knew where to find a meal and had no intentions of leaving until they had it. Collin quickly called for his rifle and Tony placed it within his hands.

“How many rounds do we have left?” he asked the boy. “About five,” Tony replied while shaking the box. “Shit, we need to save these. We really didn’t need this right now,” Collin cursed.

Tony apologized but Collin assured the boy he was not mad at him. He put the rifle down and grabbed for his pistol. He knew they had more rounds available for it and if he was careful it should do the trick. He handed Tony the other pistol, if they worked together they could split the group up.

Tony took the back door, while Collin gripped the front knob. The door slowly parted, the pistol steadied for aim. The animal turned in curiosity but was met with a 9mm bullet. It yelped and ran back for the group as Collin stepped out onto the porch. The other two had advanced on the house just as Tony rounded the corner. Collin dropped three shots at one, missing the first two due to the wolf’s speed. The third hit it in the hip, which made it stumble but barely slowed it down. Tony lined up his shot, firing two rounds. The first hit the wolf’s shoulder and the other landed between its eyes, putting it down. Collin fired two more shots as the last of the pack continued to advance. It lunged for him as he was firing, causing Collin to miss. He struggled to keep the gnashing teeth at bay and slowly pressed the barrel of the pistol to the thing’s ear. With a final pull of the trigger, it fell limp on top of him and Tony shoved it to the side before lending his hand to his friend.

They both cleaned up the bodies, and drug them away. When they returned to the cabin Tony finally asked the question he had been waiting a week to have answered. He wanted to know what they planned on doing next. They were almost out of food and were no closer to Canada. Collin had almost forgotten that he had promised him a plan before he fell ill. He rubbed at his eyes for a bit, going over what he had originally wanted to do that morning. It did not seem like the best idea now that they had seen what could be waiting in the woods and predators had become more aggressive due to lack of food sources.

“You ever had coffee?” Collin finally spoke.

“No, but what’s that got to do with anything?” Tony responded, his face wrinkled in confusion.

“Follow me,” Collin said with a smile. He had found a half-empty can of Folgers when they had first arrived, but did not think it important at the time. He grabbed a rag, emptied the grains into it and tied it closed. He boiled the grains in a pot before filtering it through another rag. It came fairly clean before he placed it in two mugs. He sat one at one chair within the kitchen and the other across from him. He pointed to the chair and Tony sat, gripping the warm cup.

“Ok, I don’t think we should go any further until this snow clears up,” he said before taking a sip of the strong brew, “Maybe even wait until Spring.”

Tony attempted a drink, gagging at the taste, “Wow, how do you drink this stuff?”

“You get used to it,” Collin lied, he had always taken his coffee with a lot of sugar and cream but that was a luxury they simply didn’t have, “So, what do you think? Hang out here and wait for warmer weather?”

“Sounds fine to me, but we’re gonna need food,” Troy responded before attempting another drink from his mug. He grimaced again after swallowing hard.

“I think I might have an idea about that too,” Collin took another drink, “We still have all these cabins around us and if there is one rabbit there is bound to be more, we just have to be more careful next time.”

They both agreed to make the campground home for the winter and set out the next few days searching each cabin, one-by-one. They managed to stockpile their pantry with plenty of canned beans, fruits, vegetables, and dried goods. Then they took to the woods, looking for meat. It took a few weeks to get a few pounds of decent food. They converted the stand-up shower in the bathroom into a meat locker, insulating the walls and packing the bottom with as much ice as they could find. It wasn’t perfect but with a little salt, their meat would stay fresh between uses. They simply had to keep the ice fresh and keep their stock up every few weeks.

The weeks passed and they feasted on several rabbits, squirrels, and random rodents. It wasn’t ideal but it kept them fed. They became more creative with their recipes to make sure it didn’t become redundant. They hunted during the day and set traps for predators. At night they read from a small library of books that they found during their searches of the cabins. Some of their literature was comprised of magazines but anything new was a blessing. Collin even made sure to set aside time to teach Tony anything he could remember from high school. They had become a family, with their own home.

“You don’t talk much about your family,” Collin said one night after dinner.

“You never asked,” the boy replied in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Well, I am now. So?” Collin quizzed. Tony paused for a moment, his eyes drifting off into a memory of a life he had almost forgotten. When the facts came flooding back he began telling a story, just like from one of their books. Tony had come from a broken home, he had never met his father and his three older brothers did most of the providing. Their mother was addicted to heroin and when he was nine a social worker arrived to remove him and his brothers from the home. They spent the next couple years being shuffled between foster homes. That was until The Fall, he had been separated from his siblings and had no real idea where they were.

Collin almost cried to find out that Tony had been abandoned the day of The Fall. The boy had huddled in their basement alone while the world came crashing down. When he emerged the home he had been living in the last few weeks had been destroyed. His foster parents never even called to let him know they were not coming back. Collin hugged his new friend, which made Tony cry as well. Collin made him a promise that he would never leave him like that and Tony promised the same.

When the snow began to melt and winter gave way to spring Collin was hesitant to leave their new home. It had become a comfort in a world so devoid of such pleasantries. It took Tony reminding him of their destination to bring Collin back from that dream. They both knew they could not survive here forever, especially now that there was no snow or ice to keep their food fresh. It had become more difficult to find wild game as of late as well, they could only assume that their activity there had drove most of the wildlife away. They would have to prepare to leave their home.

Their pace had slowed, there was less of an urgency to make good time. They had one another and for now that was all they needed. It took them far longer to make it to Wisconsin than it should have but summer was close and the map showed a nice size lake right within their path. Collin wanted to take a break in a town nearby and enjoy the season. It was like having a real family vacation for once. He had never traveled much as a child and this seemed like the best time as any to have some fun, especially now that Tony was with him. They unloaded their belongings into a large home at the end of what should have been Lewis Street, West Salem, Wisconsin. The backyard had a view spanning across a lake that the map named, “Neshonoc.”

Collin stood at the edge of the dock as Tony ran to the end of it. There was a small boat still tied to a post, just floating within the water as if it had been forgotten as well. Tony came rushing back with fishing poles in hand.

“Look, maybe we can catch some dinner!” the boy yelled with excitement.

“Maybe,” Collin said with a smile, “You know how to fish?”

“Not really, my brother’s took me once but it was a long time ago,” Troy seemed sad at the thought, “But you can show me right?" Collin nodded and grabbed a pole before following Tony to the dock. They stood at the end casting lines, they tried to bait with the franks out of a can of Frank ‘n Beans but did not have any luck. The two of them stayed out there for hours chatting about the last few weeks and where they were headed. When the sun went down they made their way back to the house, hoping to find better bait tucked away somewhere.

“If nothing else we can dig for worms,” Collin said as they stepped in the back door.

“Can we go back out tonight?” Tony jumped with enthusiasm.

“Let’s start early in the morning, I’m pretty hungry and we could both use a rest,” Collin responded.

Tony looked disappointed but he understood and began unpacking some cans to make dinner. Collin started looking over the house, checking for blankets and maybe fresh clothes. As Collin entered the living room Tony was standing over their bags, holding the Bible Collin's grandmother had given him. Tucked between the pages was a small photograph of a family. Collin dropped two blankets and a couple sets of clothes on the couch before coming over and pointing down at the picture.

"That's my dad, mom," he pointed at the faces on the page, "and me and my brother, Danny."

"You guys looked happy," Tony replied.

"We were," Collin said, taking the picture into his hands.

He stared at the yellowed image, it was from long ago. They all were dressed in their Sunday morning attire. Collin with his button-down shirt and red sweater vest, his younger brother looking almost like a sailor, and his parent's holding them close with big smiles playing on their face. Collin remembered the day and how much he didn't want to take the picture, but he would give anything for one more day like that. He brushed a tear from his eye before placing it back between the pages.

Tony could tell that something was wrong and handed Collin his bowl of beans. He knew that bringing up the past would ruin the day they had already had. They simply ate their dinner and made themselves comfortable in the living room. Tony dreamt of freshly caught fish, but Collin faded back to that open field and the autumn sun and his mother's voice. He remembered the streaks of light falling from the sky. His vision changed to the moment his parents covered him in the tub and the impact of the falling debris. He witnessed his parent's death all over again before Tony shook him awake.

"It's time to catch some fish!" Tony screamed with excitement.

"Ok, ok, ok," Collin said as he found his way to his shoes. The two of them found their way to the dock and Tony dug in the mud for some worms. They cast their lines under the dim light of what should be daylight Collin looked up at the haze the rested in the sky. It wasn't quite the summer he used to but it would do. They stood there for hours, Tony keeping the conversation going as always. Soon the boy was silenced by a tug on his line.

"I got one!" he yelled.

Colline dropped his pole, stepping over to help his friend. They both tugged on the rod and reeled in the largest bass either of them had ever seen. It flopped about on the line as Tony held it up high in celebration. Collin only wished he had a camera to capture the moment. They both laughed at the sight and were glad they would have a decent meal. Collin instructed Tony how to descale a fish and prepare it to be cooked. They were lucky the house they had taken residence in had a fire pit. Their seafood dinner roasted nicely over it as they shared more stories.

"I caught my first fish when I was five," Collin said with a laugh, "I was too afraid to touch it when it flopped onto the bank."

"Did you eat it?" Tony asked.

"No, my family wasn't big into seafood but it was more about spending time with my dad," Collin responded.

Tony paused for a moment, looking at the fire, "You talk like you and your dad didn't get along too well."

Collin turned the fish on the pike they had created to evenly cook the meat, "Well, he was good at teaching me things but he wasn't so good at showing how he felt. I don't think I ever remember him hugging me or telling me he loved me."

"That sucks," Tony replied.

"Yeah, I always told myself if I had kids I would always tell them I loved them. I don't think a kid should have to go his whole life not hearing that," Collin said, his eyes still focused on the fire.

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Tony said, almost in a sigh.

Collin knew the tone in Tony's voice. They had both come from places without love. It constantly amazed him how lucky he was to meet Tony in a world like this. It was easy to forget the smog that filled the air and the ash that occasionally littered the ground. Everything seemed easier with Tony around and secretly he prayed for God to protect the boy, even though he was not sure there was a God watching over them anymore.

The two went to bed, bellies full of their fresh catch and canned vegetables, but Collin sat up thinking of his family while Tony slept. He thought about what Tony had said about Danny possibly being alive. His young friend had been right about so many things and wondered if his little brother might still be out there somewhere. He wondered what he might say to him if he ever saw him again. He found a pen within a desk drawer and began writing in the blank pages at the end of his Bible.

When Tony woke up he watched Collin tuck his Bible back into his pack and asked what he was doing. He brushed it off and acted as if he was checking his supplies. Collin suggested they go down to the water and take a swim, but Tony became hesitant. When Collin noticed how apprehensive his friend became it caused him to question it. That is when he found out that Tony could not swim. The day was spent tossing the boy into the water and drawing him out until he learned his way in the water.

"Thanks for teaching me to swim," Tony gasped as he pulled himself from the lake.

"No problem, sorry it was so rough. It's the only way I ever learned," Collin laughed slightly.

Tony brushed the water from his face, "No, it's fine. Seems to be the only way to learn anything anymore. You get tossed into the deep end and if you come up, you survive."

Collin couldn't respond to that. It was the most honest thing he had ever heard. The whole world was the deep end now and everyone had been tossed in. The people that were left were the ones who were either strong enough to stay afloat or just plain lucky. Collin wondered what of the two he was and looked to Tony, questioning the same thing.

"Listen," Collin said, in a somber tone, "If something happens to me, remember everything I have ever taught you and survive, Ok?"

Tony's eyes got wide and he leaned back from his friend. Collin had never spoken to him that way and it was almost as if an elderly family member was saying their last goodbye. His eyes shifted side-to-side, not sure what to say when Collin's hands grasped his shoulders.

"Promise me?" Collin's voice was serious.

"I promise," Tony responded.

They spent the rest of the summer enjoying the lake. Collin was sure they had plenty of time to make it to Canada before the next winter and wanted to enjoy as much time here at the water as possible. By the time they decided to leave Tony was an expert fisherman and swimmer. They had even taken the rowboat out a few times to learn the water. It had been an amazing summer, better than any memory Collin could remember from his childhood. He only wished he could have shared it with Danny.

By August they had reached North Dakota, which meant the border was not far away. The open fields that once held wheat went on for miles with the occasional town specked between them. Tony would make games of tag last for hours, the two of them chasing each other across old farmland. Collin almost felt like a kid again and there was no one to tell them when to stop. They had not seen another soul in months, which meant the world was theirs.

When they reached a sign that read, "Pembina", Collin pulled out his atlas. His finger trailed the route they were on and showed Tony that they were less than a day away from the border. Tony jumped up and down with excitement before slapping Collin on the shoulder, "You're it!" The boy took off into a field nearby, stalks of old wheat still dancing in the wind. Collin quickly shoved the map back into his pack and took off into the brush. "I'm gonna get you kid!" he yelled, abandoning his normal caution in light of their good news.

The two ran through the field, tagging each other back and forth. The tall grass parted at every step. Tony stopped abruptly and crouched, giggling as he watched Collin fly past without seeing him. Collin pushed the stalks away from him, searching all around for his friend. When his hand landed on Tony's shoulder, he gave him a light push and it sent the boy down on his hands and knees.

"You're gonna pay for that!" Tony yelled.

Collin ran full speed away from the tiny spot, rushing to find a place to hide. His body emerged from the field beside a dying tree. He circled it and looked around, there was nothing in the area to give him away and without the motion of the brush, Tony would have a harder time locating him. Collin simply crouched behind the small tree and waited for his friend to find him. That is until he felt the hard steel of a rifle barrel push into his back.

"Stand up," a man's voice said.

Collin slowly rose from his kneeling position, bringing his hands into the air, "Listen, I don't have much but you can have it. We are just trying to get to Canada."

"Doesn't look like you're gonna make it kid, hand me the pack. Do it nice and slow," the voice commanded.

Collin did as instructed, letting the straps slide down his arms and drop to the ground behind him.

"Now the rifle," the man said, his tone growing more serious.

The gun was let down and rested by the bag. The man had seen the pistol and the holster and Collin was forced to remove it as well. His captor walked around the back, pushing it to the side with his foot. Soon the man stood in front of Collin and told him to get on his knees and put his hands behind his head. Collin begged to be set free but the man did not respond. Collin could tell he had been waiting at the border for people like him and began to regret this whole trip again. He felt so stupid for not being more cautious in the field and the thought reminded him that Tony was still out there somewhere with no knowledge of what waited for him.

The man prepared to fire but just as his finger came to rest on the trigger Tony burst from the field screaming, "I GOTCHA!"

Within an instant, the man's barrel began to turn toward the younger of the two and without thinking Collin grabbed for it and screamed, "NO!" His hands pulled it back and as the round left the chamber it buried deep within Collin's chest. Just as quickly Tony pulled his pistol from his belt and fired a shot into the man's head. Both Collin and their attacker fell to the ground almost simultaneously.

Tony shoved his pistol back into his waistband and rushed to his friend. He placed both hands of the wound that blood now gushed from. He tried desperately to stop the pouring liquid but it was no use. Collin gasped for air as his lungs filled with the same blood. Soon the red sprayed from his lips as he struggled to speak.

"No, don't talk. I'm gonna take care of you, like last time. You're gonna be ok," Tony said through the tears that soaked his face.

Collin simply shook his head and tried to smile, "It's ok Tony."

"Shut up!" Tony cried. He removed his jacket and tried to apply more pressure to Collin's chest, but it was no use. The wound was too severe and Collin knew this.

"Remember, you promised," Collin said weakly through gurgling gasps for air.

"NO!" Tony screamed.

"You p-promised," Collin struggled again.

"I know I promised. I will survive," Tony finally agreed.

Collin's vision began to blur but his mouth opened again, "I love you, Tony."

"I love you too Collin," Tony's tears flowing like a faucet now as he tried to hug his friend one last time.

Collin's eyes closed slowly, his mind fading back to a field that used to grow corn. He lay in the sunlight again with his brother Danny beside him. In the distance, he could hear his mother calling them back home. He got up slowly and smiled at her while waving. He took his brother's hand and started back to their little trailer and when he turned his eyes to the sky he saw the light coming down again. This time, when it came, he left with it and his family.

Tony took the time to bury Collin's body next to the tree. With the hunting knife, he carved Collin's name into the bark and the best date he could remember. He wanted to make sure his friend was never forgotten because he knew that he would never forget Collin. He had been not only a brother but the closest thing he had ever had to a real father figure. Tony gathered their things and started toward the Canadian border. He wasn't sure what he would find there, but he would keep his promise. He would go on and he would survive, no matter what.