Can i dream for a few months more?
The night had fallen quietly, the sky a deep, velvety black peppered with faint stars. After hours of walking, they'd finally found a building sturdy enough to climb, its roof flat and blessedly empty. The group sat huddled around a small, controlled campfire Misty had insisted on making. 'Minimal smoke, minimal chance of being spotted,' she'd informed them, carefully adjusting the wood.
Now, the flames flickered softly, casting warm orange light across their faces. Despite the long day and the weight of their mission, the tension had eased.
Jeff leaned back against his pack, looking up at the stars. "So, this is nice. Just us, the fire, the open sky... very Apocalypse Road Trip Chic, if you ask me."
"Apocalypse Road Trip Chic," Natalie repeated dryly, smirking as she poked the fire with a stick. "Do you ever think before you talk?"
"Never," Jackie muttered, pulling her jacket tighter around her shoulders.
"Hey, I'm trying to keep you guys entertained," Jeff defended, raising his hands. "You're all welcome, by the way."
Shauna shook her head, but she was smiling faintly. "We'll let you know when your morale-boosting speeches actually work."
"Burn," Misty whispered, not-so-subtly delighted by Shauna's jab.
"Alright, alright, tough crowd," Jeff said, grinning as he pulled out a protein bar from his bag. "No sense of fun or adventure, you guys. No appreciation for the art of a good vibe."
Julianna, sitting cross-legged near the fire, glanced at him with a soft laugh. "I think the lack of adventure is exactly what we're all wishing for, Jeff."
"True," Natalie added. "I'd kill for boring right now. Like, I want grocery shopping on a Saturday boring. Sitting in traffic boring. School assembly boring."
"School assemblies weren't boring," Misty said cheerfully, looking around at everyone. "They were fun! Remember the pep rallies? All the cheerleaders and music? Oh! And the cafeteria cookies afterward? Best days ever."
Jackie gave her a look. "You do realize none of us liked those, right? Those were the days everyone was trying to leave early."
Misty shrugged, entirely unbothered. "Well, I liked them."
"Of course you did," Jackie said under her breath, but her tone wasn't cruel.
There was a brief silence, broken only by the crackling of the fire and the occasional sound of the wind whistling through the trees below. Then Lottie spoke up, her voice calm and thoughtful.
"It's strange, isn't it?" she said, looking at the flames. "How much we hated normal life, and now we'd do anything to get it back. It's like, we didn't know how good we had it."
Jackie nodded slowly. "It's true. I mean, think about it—our biggest problems used to be homework and curfews." She let out a soft, humorless laugh. "Now we're trying to figure out how to cross the country without dying."
"Thanks for the uplifting speech," Jeff said, his grin softening the sarcasm.
"Anytime," she replied dryly, though her eyes twinkled slightly.
"Okay, let's lighten the mood," Jeff said, sitting up and clapping his hands. "If you could bring one thing back from the old world, what would it be? And it can't be something practical, like food or medicine. I'm talking pure comfort item."
Misty immediately raised her hand. "My birdhouse collection."
Everyone stared at her.
"Birdhouses?" Jackie repeated, incredulous.
"Yes! They're cute and cozy, and birds need homes too!" Misty said defensively.
"God, Misty, I don't even know what to say to that," Natalie muttered, shaking her head.
"Alright, alright, what about you, Nat?" Jeff asked.
She thought for a moment, then smirked. "A bottle of Jack Daniels. No question."
"Shocking," Shauna said with a grin.
"What about you, Jackie?" Jeff asked, turning to her.
Jackie hesitated, her arms crossed tightly over her knees. "I don't know. Maybe... a curling iron?"
Shauna rolled her eyes, but there was no malice in it, she was smiling faintly. "Of course."
"Well, sorry for wanting to look decent," Jackie shot back, but her tone was less defensive and more playful.
"What about you, Jules?" Jeff asked, turning to Julianna.
Julianna paused, considering. "I think a notebook. Just something to write in. It helps to make sense of things, you know?"
She had run out of paper days ago, all of it was used to make maps.
Lottie smiled softly at her. "That's a good one. Writing everything down... it's grounding."
"What about you, Lottie?" Julianna asked.
Lottie's gaze lingered on the fire for a moment. "Music," she said quietly. "A record player, maybe. Something to make it feel like the world still has beauty in it."
For a moment, no one spoke. Her words settled over them, but it wasn't heavy or uncomfortable. It was grounding, like the fire itself, warming them from the inside out.
Jeff broke the silence with a loud sigh. "Man, I was gonna say a PlayStation, but now I feel shallow."
Natalie smirked. "Don't worry, Jeff. We already knew that."
They all laughed softly, the sound echoing faintly in the cool night air. For the first time in a long time, they felt connected, not just by the survival and the mission ahead, but by the little pieces of who they used to be.
As the fire burned on, they talked and laughed, the stars above like silent witnesses to this fleeting moment of calm.
summer of 1985
The warmth of the golden afternoon sunlight spilled across the floor, illuminating dust motes that danced in the air. Julianna stood at the threshold of the garage, her six-year-old frame silhouetted by the open doorway. The hum of the radio played faintly in the background, accompanied by the rhythmic clink of tools and the occasional mutter from her father as he worked.
The garage was a chaotic wonderland. Tools of all shapes and sizes cluttered the workbench, wires draped over a stool like tangled spaghetti, and an old oscillating fan rattled away in the corner, stirring the heavy summer air. In the midst of it all, her father looked alive in a way that Julianna rarely saw. His usual distant, worn demeanour was replaced by an energy that lit up his face as he worked on something half-hidden behind his broad shoulders.
Julianna hesitated at the door. "Daddy?" she called softly, her small fingers gripping the edge of the frame.
He turned quickly, his expression brightening the moment he saw her. "Jules! There's my little engineer!" His grin stretched wide, and for a second, she felt like she was the most important person in the world.
Encouraged, she stepped into the garage, her sneakers squeaking on the cement floor. "What're you making?" she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity and awe as she tried to make sense of the jumble of wires and metal scraps on the bench.
He beckoned her over, crouching down so they were at eye level. "It's a surprise," he said, a playful glint in his eyes. "But I'll give you a hint, it's going to make our road trips way cooler."
Her eyes widened. "Can I help?"
"Of course you can." He stood and gestured for her to climb onto the stool beside him. She scrambled up eagerly, her legs swinging a little as she perched next to him.
He handed her a small screwdriver, his large hands steadying hers as he showed her how to tighten a screw. "There you go," he said with a proud nod. "You're a natural."
She beamed at the praise. "Really?"
"Really. You've got the hands of an engineer," he said, ruffling her dark hair affectionately. "Maybe one day you'll take over for me, huh? The family genius."
She giggled at the thought, the sound filling the space like a song. For a moment, everything felt perfect—the cool breeze, the faint scent of sawdust, and the rare spark of joy in her father's voice.
But then, almost imperceptibly, something shifted. It started with his hands. As he reached for a wrench, they trembled slightly. At first, she thought he was just being silly, but when he dropped the wrench with a loud clang, her smile faltered.
"Daddy?" she asked, her voice small and unsure.
"I'm fine," he said quickly, brushing it off with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. He bent to pick up the wrench, but his hands shook again, this time more violently.
"Daddy, your hands..."
He didn't respond. His breathing had grown shallow, and a bead of sweat trickled down his temple. He reached out to steady himself on the edge of the workbench, but his legs wobbled, and the color drained from his face.
"Daddy!" Julianna cried, panic rising in her chest.
He tried to wave her off, but his movements were clumsy, erratic. In his attempt to steady himself, he bumped into the workbench, sending the heavy toolbox teetering on the edge.
The world seemed to slow as the toolbox tipped over with a deafening crash, scattering screws, pliers, and other tools across the floor. Julianna flinched as something fell, striking her arm with a sickening thud. Pain shot through her like lightning, and she crumpled to the ground, clutching her arm.
"It hurts!" she sobbed, tears streaming down her face as the sharp, searing pain overwhelmed her.
Her father sank to his knees beside her, his face pale and drenched with sweat. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his words slurring. His hands hovered uselessly, unable to steady themselves enough to comfort her. "Jules, I'm so sorry—"
She couldn't stop crying. "Mommy!" she screamed, the sound raw and desperate.
Footsteps pounded down the hall, and her mother appeared in the doorway, her face a mask of fear. "What happened?!" she demanded, her eyes darting between Julianna crumpled on the floor and her husband struggling to stay upright.
"Julianna's hurt!" Jeff's voice rang out as he appeared behind their mother. His twin brother's face was pale, his wide eyes brimming with fear. He rushed to Julianna's side, crouching down to wrap an arm around her trembling frame.
"It's okay, Jules," he said, his voice steady despite the panic in his eyes. "I've got you. Come on, let's get you to the couch."
Through her tears, she let Jeff help her up. Her arm throbbed with every movement, but his presence was a small comfort. He guided her out of the garage, his arm still wrapped protectively around her as he led her into the living room.
Behind them, their mother's voice was sharp and urgent as she called emergency services, detailing her husband's symptoms with trembling clarity. This wasn't the first time something like this had happened.
Julianna collapsed onto the couch, her small body shaking with sobs as Jeff sat beside her. He didn't say much, just kept his arm around her shoulders and whispered, "It's gonna be okay, Jules. I promise."
She looked up at him, her big, tear-filled eyes searching his face. "Is Daddy sick?"
Jeff hesitated, his lips parting as if he wanted to say something, but no words came out. Instead, he pulled her closer, his silence speaking louder than any reassurance could.
In the distance, their father's labored breathing mixed with their mother's frantic voice, creating a cacophony of sound that seemed to swallow the house whole. But here, on the couch, Jeff kept her grounded, his quiet presence a fragile lifeline.