Brooklyn

I cringe.

"You don't have to tell us if you're not ready for that," He assures me. I shake my head. Liz was one thing, but spilling everything that's happened in the last six months is another. How am I supposed to tell the brothers that I had to help my dad bury my mom? That he's dead now because we forgot that humans can be just as evil as the Malefic? Or that today is the first time I've spoken to another human being in months? Maybe those things would be easy to share–not because they aren't painful, but because there's no doubt Adam and Avery have similar horror stories. But telling my story means warning them that there is a monster waiting for me in the woods. And there are only two possible ways they will react: they'll think I've lost my mind or that I'm lying. Or...

No, there is no or. Avery already thought I was crazy when I talked about Liz turning. And who would believe that one of the monsters could be different? What human left, after witnessing all the destruction and murder caused by these monsters, could believe that one would let me go? My monster isn't like the others, he's one of a kind: cunning and intelligent. Patient. The brothers would think I'm crazy, and I wouldn't blame them. In all that I've witnessed since Starfall, the Malefic have been the same. Violent. Deadly. Unrestrained.

And if they think I'm crazy enough to believe that happened or cunning enough to create that lie, then no doubt they'd leave me here in the woods, alone. Again.

And on the slim, slim chance they absolutely believe my story, they'd see me as a risk. They'd wonder if the monster is a man of his word. If he'll find me. Which he won't, I reassure myself.

I shove down the small part of me that doubts whether the creature will really forget me, that whispers maybe Adam and Avery will be safer if they leave me, that makes me wonder if I should tell them, just in case.

I stay silent.

"Well, I guess I'll tell you ours, then," Avery says, rubbing his hands together. He shares a look with Adam that I don't understand. I wonder what it would be like to have someone else to tell my story with, if my dad was still with me. Surviving must be so much easier when you have someone else to convince you that you aren't insane, or the last human on earth, or about to die. Even if all of those are true. You have someone now, I remind myself. Two someones.

"Where to start..." Avery murmurs.

"Were you still living in California during Starfall?" I ask, remembering the time that Avery's family moving from Washington to California used to be the only thing I had to be sad about.

He nods. "Yeah. The earthquakes got really bad around week three. I think there were a few storms, too, and one giant wildfire up north. I'm surprised it didn't burn this forest down, too," he adds as an afterthought. He looks down, his eyes carrying a deep sadness. "But then one of the Gifted triggered the San Andreas fault line. There's a small chance that it could've happened on its own, I guess, but either way–it doesn't matter. The ground shook and all the buildings came crashing down. We were all the way up in the mountains, but it was still pretty bad. I'd bet you even felt some of the earthquakes up here, didn't you?"

I nod, recalling the two days where the ground kept shaking. I shudder, too many dark memories flooding back.

"I thought the world was finally ending that day. Everyone did." He clears his throat, his voice husky. His eyes fill with guilt. He speaks fast, getting it over with. "The earthquake took our parents–I was with Adam, too far to save them. The house collapsed and they were inside. When we came home we saw what had happened." He swallows, not lifting his eyes. "Things seemed bad enough already, but the earthquake triggered a tsunami." Avery's face is tight with pain and regret, but Adam's is blank, like he's not paying any attention to Avery's words. But his breathing is too heavy, like silent sobs.

"I remember that," I say quietly. "I didn't know the tsunami was from the earthquakes, though. We all thought it was one of them."

Adam shakes his head. "No. If there was a Gifted that powerful on the west coast, I don't think any of us would be left standing. But there were enough earthquakes and storms that I guess it doesn't matter. Long story short, we survived the tsunami. We stayed real high up in the mountains and it was nerve wracking to watch, but it didn't reach us," Avery says. "When the water finally receded, we came back down with all the supplies we could find only to find out that pretty much the whole state of California was–is–wrecked. We've spent the last few months hiding as much as we can and traveling north, away from all the destruction. We're trying to find other survivors–a safe place."

"I've wandered all around these woods, from here to the west. There's none in that direction."

"Of course there's not," he growls and then sighs, sounding defeated.

"I'm sorry," I murmur, feeling his disappointment.

"So, what now?" Adam asks. We both look at Avery.

"Well, we were heading west." He turns and digs around in a backpack then pulls out a folded up piece of paper. A map. He points to a little spot on the map across the water from Seattle. "This is where we are. We have limited options. Any group of survivors still left would have to be pretty well-hidden and remote. Which means we have no chance of finding others except by accident." He turns to me. "You're staying with us?"

"If you'll have me," I say. His easy-going smile is back, making me exhale in relief.

"Good. Then we're keeping you." He ruffles my hair affectionately. Adam gives me a friendly smile and a nod. I try to smile back but guilt eats away at me. It must be the morals I tried to bury. Shh, you're supposed to be long gone by now, I tell my conscience. But that's not how consciences work.

"So, back to the map, our only choice is to find somewhere remote to hide away." He says it with a confidence that makes it seem like he's already perfected his plan and is now explaining it, not trying to figure it out as he speaks. "We need somewhere far away from any big cities or roads, or even small towns. But, we also need to be near a source of water and not too far from food." Pointing to several spots on the map, he says, "These are our options."

"And you've already decided, haven't you?" Adam grins, making the resemblance to his brother a bit easier to see.

"Hey," Avery lifts his hands in defense, "You're both free to leave any time. Or come up with a different plan."

"Well, that wouldn't be a very good idea since yours are always the best."

"True, true."

It's all so casual, so easy. It's nice to hear them talk to each other like this, like it's not the end of the world. I smile, more genuinely this time. This is a good thing, right here in a dark world. I'll stay with them for as long as I can, I decide, but at the first hint that I'm putting them in danger, I'll leave. There, compromise. There's a weight gone from my chest now that I've made my decision. And peace. I have to be right about the monster forgetting me. There won't be any danger from him.

"We should head here, I think," Avery says, pointing. I lean forward to look at where his finger is on the map. It's a little spot north of where we are now, deep in the woods but far from any large bodies of water. A good choice, but not the most obvious. I imagine that's exactly what he's going for: somewhere they wouldn't think to look for stragglers. "We'll follow this river here." The line he points to is almost invisible. It's probably more of a creek than a river, and I'm surprised it's on the map at all.

"What then?"

"If it seems like a safe place to be, we stay as long as we can manage."

"And plan B?"

"Plan B?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. Avery shrugs.

"We always have a plan B, just in case. Other routes we can take, other courses of action, a backup plan. Like today, for example. Adam was supposed to gather supplies and I was supposed to scout our surroundings before we met back up. But he ran into you, and I had to stay back because there were signs of someone else in the woods south of here, and plan B was that if one or both of us couldn't make it to our meeting spot by a certain time, we'd meet back here. Things never go as planned, not in this world. So we always have a backup plan." His finger is already tracing an alternative route before he finishes speaking.

"Someone in the woods?" I ask, distracted.

"Well, you came from the south of here, right?"

"Yeah."

"And you didn't sense anything weird? It seems there's one of them in these woods. But he's long gone now." He says it so matter of factly, not anxious like how I feel. Was it my monster or the Malefic I saw while in the tree?

"I did sense something weird, so to speak. I scaled a tree earlier today to get an idea of my surroundings–but then everything went deathly quiet. I was just barely able to see him through the branches. He had light brown hair and that's all I saw." My heart races but I force my voice to not shake. "Does that sound like the same one you saw?"

"Sounds about right," he says. "I didn't want to get close enough to get a good look, obviously, but I think he had brown hair. It must be the same one." He sounds thoughtful. "I'm surprised you weren't found. You're insanely lucky."

"Anyone still alive at this point has to be very, very lucky, Avery," Adam points out, his hands busy folding a tent. "We shouldn't be anywhere near here when we camp tonight, so give me a hand, will you?" He sounds teasing as he motions for Avery to help him, but his eyes are sad. They might still have each other, but they've lost people too, I remind myself.

I help them pack up the tents and supplies, taking as much of the burden off of them as I can by carrying things in my backpack. Avery doesn't let me carry either of the heavy tents, though.

In a matter of minutes, we've gathered everything. I watch in fascination as the brothers inspect the small clearing and erase all evidence of life. I mentally note everything they do. Smooth out footprints, move fallen leaves around to cover any broken foliage, and so on. Soon it's impossible to tell we were even there at all.
"I don't know about the whole 'being lucky' thing," I tell Adam. "I think you two are just good at surviving."

He laughs.

"Let's go," Avery says, leading the way, "We head north."

A few hours later, we stop. The sun has less than an hour left in the sky and I watch the darkness creep in as we set up camp.
"Don't you have a sleeping bag, or anything?" Avery asks

"No, I usually sleep in abandoned houses or in trees. And I have one of those foil emergency blankets for when it gets really cold."

"How have you survived this long?" It's not quite an insult...is it concern?

"I had more. Tents and sleeping bags and stuff. Well, we had more, my dad and I. But when he died, I didn't want to pry his backpack off his body. It wasn't worth it."

Avery's quiet for a moment. "How long have you been alone?" He asks softly.

"A while," I say through gritted teeth. "I'm really not ready to talk about it yet, Avery."

He nods and tucks a short strand of hair behind my ear. "Then tell me about this instead. What's the story behind the hair?"

I sigh. But it's easier to answer than anything else that's happened in the last six months.
"Well, you know I've always dyed it blonde. Can't dye it during the apocalypse and it's grown out. I chopped most of it off right at the beginning." I pull a strand forward though it's too short to really see it well. The tips are still blonde but the rest of my chin length hair is my natural brown. The strands are choppy and uneven from the bad pixie I gave myself without a mirror. Looks don't seem to matter much when there's no one left to impress–or compare yourself to. "Long hair isn't convenient for surviving," I explain.

"Thank you for telling me," he says, a hint of humor in his eyes, "I was dying of curiosity, but that makes sense."

"Sure, that's what he says," Adam chimes in. "In reality he still cares just as much about his hair as he did in highschool. He tries to cut it himself while looking at his reflection in a river or a stream. It's really funny, actually."

Avery rolls his eyes, running a hand through his almost-curly, almost-strawberry-blonde hair. It's right on the verge of being light brown. Adam's, however, is more of a wavy auburn.

"That doesn't surprise me. He'd used to go to the bathroom after every class to fix his hair. My friends used to tease me that I shouldn't date someone prettier than me." I grin at him. He knows I'm kidding. With sharp facial features, that roguish smile, and a strong jaw covered in stubble, he's too manly-looking to ever be called pretty.

"Hey," he says, scrunching his eyebrows together in mock-offense.

"Don't worry. I'm not bothered that you're prettier than me." I shrug casually, scoffing. "My femininity isn't fragile." It feels good to talk so lighthearted, like we're just three friends on a camping trip in the woods. For just one moment, I try to forget that our lives could be jeopardized at any moment.

"Well, if it helps, I think your hair is just as pretty as mine."

"That does help, thank you," I say sarcastically, giving him a look. He grins. My hair probably looks like there's some small, furry animal living in it. I don't care, though.

"Come on, let's eat dinner," Adam interrupts, laughing a little at us–or probably just at Avery.

He pulls out some cans of soup and a couple of my granola bars. They share their food with me and expect the same, which surprises me. I don't mind giving over my supplies for the company and protection, but you'd expect anyone still alive at this point to take what they need to survive, even at the expense of others. Even during the beginning, when my father and I stayed at a camp with other survivors, everyone guarded what was theirs. Some would even kill to get what they need. I'd seen it happen.

But I was sitting there eating their chicken soup, which I'd been craving for forever while they ate my granola bars, an appreciative look on their faces.

After we finish I search for a spot on the rough ground that won't completely kill my back to sleep on. The ground is never my preferred spot, but I'd feel weird sleeping above them in the trees. Avery gives me a weird look as I kick aside rocks and twigs with my shoe.

"Brooke, what are you doing?"

"Clearing a space to sleep?" What does he think I'm doing, cleaning my shoe?

"Why?"

"Because I've heard that sleep is necessary to sustain energy and helps prevent insanity. And if I don't clear the space first, the rocks will dig into my back."

"Yeah, but why would you want to sleep on the ground? You'll be super uncomfortable and will probably freeze to death."

"Avery," I huff out a sigh, "I've spent plenty of nights on the forest floor with nothing but the clothes on my back." Would he rather I sleep in the tree?

"Well, you don't have to anymore. You're going to sleep in that tent." He points to the grayer of the two green tents.

"That's your tent," I say matter-of-factly. "Um, I'm not going to sleep in there with you."

"You'd rather sleep in Adam's tent?" He asks, expression innocent.

"Avery," I growl. He laughs.

"Adam and I will share a tent. That one's all yours." He tosses me his sleeping bag, pulls a thin blanket from his backpack for himself, and steps inside the other tent. I roll my eyes at his back, but my heart warms a little. Or a lot. When was the last time I slept in a tent? I smile to myself, a slow, fragile, genuine smile.

Maybe Avery is right and I'm very, very lucky. After all, I found them.

I can't banish the small smile from my lips even as I fall asleep.

I wake up to the smell of something burning. For one brief moment, I wonder if I've left the stove on and jerk upright. But then reality comes crashing in. I remember that my world has changed, and then with a start I recall that it's changed again with Adam and Avery in it. Everything is different now.

And I smell smoke.

I unzip my tent as fast as I can then crash out into the night. A thick pillar of smoke rises into the sky not far from us. I unzip the other tent and whisper-yell, "Wake up! Fire!" They both shoot upright with a quickness that surprises me. Like they've trained themselves to never fall too deeply asleep but, like Avery said, are always ready for the worst. That doesn't matter, act now, think later, I command myself.

Avery is out of the tent in a matter of seconds, Adam on his heels. He starts to take down the tent.

"Get Brooke's," he directs in a low voice. I jump inside and snag my rifle, backpack, and sleeping bag before Adam collapses the tent. Avery is done with the first tent before I've even finished collecting my breath. It's a lost cause. My heart is racing.

"Here," he tosses me the tent bundle and then the bag for it. I stuff the tent and the sleeping bag inside my backpack then toss it over my shoulder. Adam is throwing the other tent over his shoulder when I turn around. Then they both grab the rest of the supplies and make quick work of covering our tracks. The whole process from the time they woke up takes maybe three minutes or less.

"I don't see the fire," Avery says quietly, squinting at the growing pillar of smoke gathering in the east. "But that doesn't mean this forest won't end up in flames. Or worse."

I think of what–or who–might've caused the smoke and shudder. We take one last look at our campsite.

Then the three of us race quietly into the woods.

Two hours later, after tripping over our feet at a pace we can all barely manage in our tired state, we stop. Avery pulls the map out from his backpack and scowls. One corner of the sky is infinitesimally lighter than it was ten minutes before. The rest of the sky remains a crushingly dark, empty black other than the moon.

"I miss the stars," I murmur, watching the moon descend, all alone up there. Adam walks up next to me, staring at the moon as well.
"Me too," He says, giving me an easy smile. I hear Avery growl something about stupid people and the forest being burned down from behind us. I can hear his angry footsteps as he paces back and shakes the map.

"What's his problem?" I ask.

"He really loves nature," The spark in Adam's eyes and the hint of a smile at one corner of his mouth are the only ways I can tell he's being sarcastic. "Nah, he's just mad because we didn't plan for this. We'll have to change course completely if the entire Olympic National Forest burns down."

We both turn to watch the distant plume of smoke in the sky. It's bigger now, and just a little closer to us than before.

"Okay," Avery announces. "Plan is, we stay on our original course."

"Avery," Adam chastises. "I take back what I said before. Your plan sucks." Avery looks like he's about to lose his cool but Adam just stares him down. I wonder if maybe I guessed wrong when I thought that Avery makes the decisions and Adam just follows. Some sort of wordless communication seems to pass between them.

Finally, Avery huffs out a breath and nods.
"You're right, we'll head north, to the coast. And if the whole forest is burned down at least we won't go with it."

"What about cover?" I ask. "If there are no trees, then we'll just be out in the open."

"Worst case scenario, there's a group of hidden caves on the shore. Our dad used to take us there as kids before we moved. We can hide out there for as long as we need."
I hide my grimace and suck it up. Avery notices and smiles, just a little smug. Like he expected my reaction.

"What?" I snap.

"Nothing," he says, shrugging. "I just remembered that you're scared of the ocean, that's all."

"I'm fine," I lie. He grins, still looking a bit irritated from before.

"I think you said it was something about drowning and sharks and still not knowing how to swim..." He laughs at my expression.

"Shut up," I growl. I think of the time I almost drowned in a pool when I was seven and shudder. Yes, that was a long time ago, and it shouldn't have stuck with me so much. But it has. He mimics my terrified expression.

I mutter some rather unique death threats under my breath. I thought I was quiet enough, but Adam coughs to cover what sounds like a laugh.

"You'll be fine," Avery says, softening a little when I bite my lip in anxiety.

"Of course I will. That's what I said." He raises an eyebrow and I continue. "I've handled worse things than some water."

"And sharks," he adds. I try not to smile and fail. He returns my reluctant grin.

And that's just Avery. He makes you want to punch him in the face but then gets you to laugh after. I can't remember how many times we argued in highschool. Our friends used to joke that we'd break up in the morning and be back together by lunch. He's a jerk, but a sweet one. I frown at that contradiction.

"Do we want to eat breakfast now or later?" Adam asks, pulling out a water bottle and taking a swig.

"Later," Avery answers, back to serious-leader mode. "We should save our food in case we can't find more for a while." He looks at the rising sun. "Time to head out again."

The smoke doesn't disappear for several days. It gets closer and closer to us, getting bigger all the while.

We walk as far as we can each day, not stopping until dark. It becomes hard to tell whether the gray patches in the sky are clouds or just the smoke. And it gets scarier and scarier not knowing if the fire will catch up to us eventually and burn the forest down and us with it.

But eventually, the gray in the sky gets bigger and thicker. We think the fire is getting worse until we feel the first few drops of rain. Avery laughs out loud as all of a sudden the sky pours buckets of water on us.

"We're saved," he says, grinning and trying to shake the water out of his hair, even as it continues to rain. Adam and I roll our eyes but are both secretly relieved. We stay on course to the coast, just in case.

By the time we make it to our destination, after two days of wet clothes and soggy shoes, the smoke has entirely disappeared.

"It seems like whoever started it has moved on," Adam announces. "I guess our change of plans didn't make a difference."

We walk along the beach for another hour, Adam and Avery looking for the hidden caves.

"We might as well stay here for a few days." Avery winks at me, trying to ruffle my feathers. "I mean, we've come all this way."

Adam gives me a look that says 'sorry,' and shrugs.

"Sounds great," I lie, with all the enthusiasm I can muster. Caves by the ocean. Yay, I think acidly. At least we're not swimming, or getting on a boat. I keep a healthy distance between the water and me as we tread on the sand.

Eventually we find the caves, hidden on a low cliff shelf by the shore. Adam leads the way deep inside the inky blackness. The day is windy and cold, blowing ocean mist on us, and I shiver. The wind seems to make hollow, phantom noises come from inside the caves. I hesitate at the lip of the cave, the boys already setting up the tents a little further in. It's not too dark with the lingering sunlight streaming in, so that part doesn't bother me. But something doesn't sit right.

"You coming, Brooke?" Avery asks, too distracted to add the proper amount of sarcasm to his words.

"Yeah," I call back, annoyed. I'm just waiting for them to finish setting up the tents. I would help, but they do it faster anyway. Avery finishes and walks over to me.

"It's really not that bad," he reassures me. "Even at high tide, the water won't touch our tents."

"I'm fine, really. I just want to stay in the sunlight for as long as I can." It's true. I don't like the dark, but he's right–the water won't touch us.

"Brooke," he gives me a look that says he doesn't believe me, sliding an arm around me. "I know you better than that." He's trying to be kind, I know that. But he's so wrong. I push his arm off me.

"No, you don't." I snap. He seems taken aback. He doesn't know me. The Brooke he knew died with the rest of them.

"Brooke, we dated all of my senior year and the summer before I moved. And we were friends long before that. I know you."

"No, you don't," I repeat, trying to speak calmly. "Everything has changed. I've changed. Maybe you can't see that, maybe being around you is like a snapshot of the past and I forget, but I'm not the same because nothing is the same anymore, and it never will be."

"You're still Brooklyn. The same Brooklyn I knew in highschool. Maybe the world has changed, but people don't." He sounds so sure of himself. It irks me, a storm of vile memories resurfacing.

"Oh, they don't?!" I yell, my eyes burning with sudden tears. I know I need to calm down, but it hurts too badly. "So tell me, Liz is the same person now that she always was? You're telling me that I didn't see her kill her family when I went back to warn them? That I didn't watch as her mother's body fell limp to the floor? That I couldn't hear the screaming?" I can feel the hot, angry tears streaming down my face but I ignore them. "This is how I know people change, Avery. The old Brooke wouldn't have just watched. She would've done something to protect them even if it meant giving up her stupid, useless life. But I ran. I ran, Avery, to save my own skin. That girl you knew in highschool is gone. The old me—the old Brooke? She's dead."

Avery's face is white and Adam is silent behind him, the other tent finished. He keeps his head low, pretending not to listen.

"You don't know that," Avery whispers.

"She's dead and she's not coming back," I insist.

He sighs, frustrated. "I get it. You've been through hell, we all have. I'm sorry."

"No, you're not." Well, he probably is, but at the moment, I don't care.

I storm out of the cave.