It's been two days. We made it through the city and then some.
During my last entry I said I felt like I was being watched...I was. Her name is Harper. She’s young and spritely, probably 18 or 19—I haven’t asked. She’s so small, too…kinda like her mask. That’s how I knew she was okay—her mask. Well, after I decked her…
It was different from mine but the mask seemed to do its job well. She had no trouble busting my butt when she came upon me two nights ago. She saved my life. A 23 year old being saved by a teenager…
No shame, I’m still alive.
“Get your ass in gear, Plebian.” She all but yelled at me. She caught my arm and pulled me off the road faster then I could process what was happening. “Sitting in the middle of the ‘effin road like a fool” I had heard her mutter but I don’t think I was supposed to hear it.
Her personal filter is cute and it makes me smile now as I write, but then I was more focused on what was happening. Not a minute later, after I caught my bearing, mind you, these louts came up over the hill down the road. Their car sputtered and jerked down the road and I still can’t see how I didn’t hear them before. I guess I was too lost in thought and too tired to care.
They didn’t wear masks, the guys in the sputtering car. They were Leechers, I had thought in disgust. Their greased up hair and stained white v-neck shirts only disgusted me further. The guns however, those scared me.
We stayed low in the bushes of the side of the road as they passed. I remember feeling Harper’s elbow digging deep into my side we were so close. We were so scared. But they passed and I felt relief, if only for a moment.
And for the life of my I can’t understand what made me do what I did. I hit her. I hit Harper and was about to book it out of there and back to the dump when she screeched in pain.
“Remind me to never save your life again, Plebian. If this is the thanks I get I’ll just watch on like I’m at the Roman coliseum.” That’s what stopped me from running. Her joke. I hit her and she jokes.
After asking for forgiveness 100 times over, and her accepting after the first one, I managed a “Lucy or, well, Luce” (my name) and a slight wave through my mortification.
It wasn’t until the next morning that I even bothered asking why it was she was out on the road. “Probably same as you, looking for refuge.” She told me so matter of fact. As if the idea of me being a nomad were preposterous.
Though given what had happened the night before it was no wonder…but I digress.
And so I have found a travel companion. One who I can safely say is by far the strangest individual I’ve ever faced. Eh, but in my lifetime that’s not too many since the feast.
We ended up walking under the city. Harper apparently usually takes that route because it keeps her from running into anyone and it’s quicker than dodging buildings. She had me at the former but quicker sealed the deal.
I thought the dump smelled…
It was disgusting but Harper somehow managed to get us on the other side of the city in less than 2 hours. When we came up for air it was the most amazing thing I’ve ever done. We whipped off our masks and inhaled the fresh air. Me for longer, apparently she’s used to it.
We walked for the rest of the day, just getting to know one another. I’ve found that she’s very adept at tracking and trapping. We caught a stray chicken from one of the farms we passed. I just hope the owners don’t come looking.
Last night we sat down and made camp at the 39-mile mark, just shy of the rate I had calculated before the trip. I wanted to try for 20 to 22 miles a day.
It might have something to do with not having walked such a distance before. My shoes can only do so much. My feet were throbbing. Are throbbing.
What I wouldn’t give for a foot massage.
But that’s alright. I’m sure by the time I reach the refuge they’ll have spas and beds and fruits. I love fruit.
Today…today was tough on my feet. We managed about 18 more miles and at this rate I’m going to have to tac on another day. But with Harper I doubt I’d mind much. It’s really nice to get to know someone new. Someone who has seen more than the dump I’ve been in for far too long. She’s alive and fresh.
And she likes to call me Plebian. I guess Luce just wasn't her style. I don't mind the nickname though. It reminds me of how we met and that I'll forever be in her debt...and hopefully her food.
I gotta say, she's a damn decent cook.