#baymtgo

Fall.

When D told Nick she knew where to go, she didn’t actually know where to go.

“We have to start there,” she said. “That house was my house, I’m sure of it.”

Nick was all in on this mission; they had been wandering about for so long with no real aim, he appreciated the opportunity to go somewhere, do something. He got up from his bedroll, making himself seem enthusiastic.

“Where is it?”

D’s face fell a little as the practicalities of this search dawned on her.

“I don’t know…” she said, slowly.

A spark of irritation hit in Nick’s gut. As he tried to push it aside, he found it lead onto a soft familiarity.

His son was much the same way. All spark and creativity, he would often just do the first thing he thought of, before realising the scope of what he was attempting and abandoning the project. The house was filled with half-finished sculptures and other art projects. His laptop was filled with stories half-written. Nick had desperately attempted to teach him how to follow-through on a project, how to make sure you had enough stamina to make it to the end.

You have to take a second to consider everything before you start something, he’d said to him. Pace yourself, or you’ll keep burning yourself out within the first day. And you don’t have to start every project as soon as you think of it. Save a couple of ‘em for a rainy day, eh?

He was sure he was beginning to learn when the world ended. Then, a few months later, all the projects stopped.

He saw that same fervor in D now; the desperate need to do something overriding every single sensible bit of planning that needed to be done. Nick sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to think of a plan.

Start at the beginning, he thought.

Or the end, a voice seemed to reply somewhere in the back of his brain.

“The town,” he said after a moment.

“What?”

“Where we met. We’ll start there, move backwards. See if we can retrace your steps or jog your memory from there.”

D beamed. He could see anticipation building inside her. There was nothing like a search for answers that could bring a spark to the eye.

They packed up that morning, finally leaving the little run down shack off the main road. Nick remained surprised, but thankful, that the tide hadn’t found them there. His optimism drained a little as he realised the leaves on the trees around them were slowly going yellow. He could feel a slight chill in the air and smell rain on the wind. Fall was coming, and winter followed. It was going to get harder to protect themselves when the weather turned.

He nearly said this out loud, but as he turned back to D the sentence died in his throat. She smiled at him, more drive in her face than he’d ever seen from her.

“You okay?” She asked, pulling her backpack over her shoulder.

Nothing else mattered. Not the weather, not the tide - there was only this.

God help us, Anna.

“Yeah, let’s go,” he said.

Light.

Anna had this saying:

You’re like a happy grey cloud on a sunny day.

Nick, for the longest time, had no idea what that meant. She would never explain when he asked, she’d just smile - knowingly, like she always would - and say:

You’ll see.

Not long after she… Nick had been walking. It’s not like the end of life as he knew it could have come at a good time, but in the middle of summer is possibly one of the worst it could have been. He hated the heat. It always seemed like it affected him more than anyone else he knew. When he was walking, he did his best to stay under tree cover, but there were long stretches on the road he took which were just open air. The sun would beat down on him, jackhammering him over and over again. He’d look up, searching desperately for a sign of cloud cover, but the sky was as blue as could be.

A couple hours later, though, and a single, grey cloud made its way across the sky. It passed slowly in front of the sun, casting the land below into shadow. He watched it come. He praised the heavens when he drifted in front of the sun, and took a moment to appreciate a moment of respite.

Anna’s words crept up on him. A happy grey cloud, blocking out the sun.

That was the first time he cried since he left the house.

D reminded him of that too. Individually, they were just grey clouds, hoarding baggage. Together, they were a storm cloud brimming, waiting to explode. If one went off track, the other had to balance them out. He was going to have to be the sun behind that cloud, and he didn’t know if he could do it, but he had to try. D needed something to lean on now, and he would make sure it was him.

After she opened up, the emotional toll of the moment became a little much for her, and D went to bed. Nick didn’t think of himself as a religious man, but he’d pray to Anna every night. Protect me as I hunt tonight, protect those who don’t have my skill set tonight, protect D tonight. She’s the best of us.

Nick had made this pact with the heavens. If he prayed, and a dark cloud passed right over the sun, he knew someone was listening, and tonight someone was. It was that, and only that, that gave him the courage the next day and say: