Chapter 5
Asmita
Now, I’m hiding from the sun and the crazies who go out into it.
No one, and I mean no one, goes out into the sun unless they have no choice.
That, or they’re just plain crazy. I’m in the remnants of what used to be a gas station and convenience store.
There are about fifteen other people hiding out here.
I normally wouldn’t bide my daylight hours around this many people.
but I was desperate and had to get out of the sun.
I remember those first few days when the sun came out blazing, and I shudder.
I had never had a sunburn so bad in my life.
Right now, I’m so thirsty that all I can think about is taking a drink of water, but I’ve learned not to take my water out in front of anyone.
I find a spot by the old milk coolers and throw my backpack down in front of me, locking it onto my arms. I slide my back down the glass until my butt hits the floor.
I look around the large open space at the others around me.
It took me two diamonds to learn about this place.
I lost another two to the men guarding the front door.
Once I paid, they lowered their weapons and let me into this paradise. Places like this have kept me alive.
What I assume is a mother and daughter sit across from me.
The mother, holding the scared younger girl, is trying to comfort her.
They had to have some help to find this place, so they are luckier than most. I wonder what the others had to pay to get in here.
I scan the room, avoiding eye contact with the others.
There is a restroom sign pointing toward an unlit hallway.
I get up from the floor slowly and make my way over to it.
I try to make as little noise as possible since people have started to fall asleep.
The two men at the front door look back at me for a brief second but turn their eyes and attention back to the outside.
They’ll watch for trouble as everyone else sleeps the day away.
I reach the bathroom and turn the knob to find a dark room.
The room is empty, and I step inside. The smell hits me, and it’s a mixture of barf, piss and feces.
I reflexively gag and start to breathe through my mouth.
I lock the door behind me. I’ve gotten used to doing a lot in the dark.
I take the water out of my backpack as fast as I can and swig the liquid into my body.
The smell and the heat in the room start to make me feel sick so I know I have to go back out.
I hide my water back in my bag, unlock the door and step back into the hallway.
I breathe fresher air and wipe the sweat from my forehead.
I make my way back into the store and find a place to sit down in an aisle.
I can’t stare at the mom and daughter duo all day.
I have things to do that I don’t want others to see, but I must do this in daylight hours.
I sit in my aisle and wait for the others to fall asleep.
When I can’t hear any movement or talking, I take the map out of my bag and carefully unfold it to the section I need.
I’m careful not to make much noise because this item is almost as valuable as water.
When I bartered for it outside of Reno, it cost me the high price of 10 diamonds.
Not many people had paper maps available before the disaster, so they became a high-demand item.
People with cash couldn’t even trade for them.
What does anyone have use for paper money?
Paper money is useless now. I’ve literally wiped my ass with it in the woods.
It’s all about bartering for goods, food and clean water now.
My parents were right about that in their letter.
They knew that money would do no good; they knew that people would want items. They knew that giving me a giant sack of diamonds would get me things I needed and hopefully, keep me safe at the same time.
I look around the room to make sure no one can see me in the aisle.
If my math is correct, I’m about 45 miles from the border and another 100 miles from my destination.
I quickly fold the map back up and get it into my backpack before anyone sees.
My diamond supply is getting low, and I can’t risk having nothing to trade.
I’m going to have to walk the rest of the way there or at least a large portion.
I divide the miles into days and try to decide how many miles I can cover in a day.
The most I’ve ever been able to cover before sunrise is twenty-eight.
I’ve heard talk of others walking up to fifty which is insane to me.
I don’t know how they can do it or if it’s even true.
If I can keep the pace up of my personal record, I’ll be there in five days.
I don’t know if I can do it, but I’m going to have to try.
I’ve got to mentally psych myself up. I’m really going to have to walk it.
I’m going to have to get a lot of rest during the days to be up for 10 hours in the darkness each night.
I loop my arms through the straps of my backpack and hold it on my chest. I curl up on the dirty, white tile floor and close my eyes in the hopes of getting some rest. I have no idea when I’ll have a roof over my head again.