The morning was awkward, at least for one of us. Mara didn’t care, why would she? She was lounging on her couch when we came out. We actually talked, although I don’t remember those talks in too much detail. I’ve spent too long trying to forget everything but my mistakes. What I do know is that she dissected me. I spoke about my parents, and she quickly latched onto my desire to make them proud, how I was always chasing their approval. By the end of the week she knew me at a deeper level than I did.

  She used that. As time went on she belittled me, pointed out my every flaw, never letting me forget a single mistake. Equally, she strung me along with a couple ‘good job for once’ and a rare few ‘I’m actually proud of you’. Everything was a transaction for her, carefully planned in advance.

  You’d be amazed how quickly one person can tear down your self worth when you don’t have anyone else. Sure, Rusty was beside me every step of the way, literally more often than not, but he wasn’t like Corax. He could understand emotions, feelings, but never the words or the meanings. He couldn't tell what she was doing, just that I was miserable. All he could do was stay beside me and lessen the blows.

  New Year's Day 2024, six months after my father died, and after a few months stuck with her, was the first time I drank. I had no idea how much I could take, I just wanted to go one for one with her. She took my first kiss that night, and we started dating, for whatever that meant to her. I was happy, believe it or not. Thought I was finally making her proud, giving her something only I could. It only served her interests, pulling her hooks even deeper into me.

  I wish it could have gone differently, but I don’t blame myself. She knew what she was doing, and she was good at it. I shudder to think what she would have become if the world hadn’t ended. A cult leader maybe, who knows.

  That was the year the storms started to get real dangerous. Dirt and rocks were a rare sight in the sand. Still, the rocks were heavy enough and the dirt packed enough to keep the entire desert from assaulting our house. We could hope it was just a fluke, but the third time a storm was so bad we had to climb out the window to dig out the front door?

  “We need to get out of here. Load up the car.” Mara decided.

  “Where are we going?” I got to work, not waiting for a response, not asking why.

  “Somewhere with cover.” She paused for just a moment before adding “Dallas. I’d like to see a storm try to bury a skyscraper.” Just like that it was decided. I was going home.

  “My mother lived on the fifteenth floor. I still have a key.” I offered.

  “Good.”

  It took a while to load up the car. Neither one of us were willing to leave any water behind, although food was more flexible. We had a sack of something. Flour, or sugar, cornmeal maybe? It doesn’t matter. What does matter is we had no space for it. Instead, she took it out back, took a knife to the sack, and let the powder mix with the sand. If we couldn’t keep it, she was going to make sure nobody could have it.

  I still feel awful when I think about that. That food could have saved lives, or at least kept someone alive for a little bit longer. Although with how bad the storms were getting? Even if we left it behind, it might have never been found. I can hope that’s true at least.

  The three of us ended up screaming across the desert, following the remnants of half-buried highway signs and lines of car hoods barely peeking out. Everything was fine, right up until a tire blew.

  “Shit!” Mara yelled out, and went spinning. I held onto Rusty for dear life. Eventually we skidded to a halt in a cloud of flying sand. “Fucking! Useless! Piece! Of! Shit!” She slammed on the horn with every word, the car screaming out in response.

  She stepped out, slamming the door behind her. I opened my door a moment later, and Rusty bolted off my lap, putting a lot of distance between him and the car. I stepped out and headed towards him, crouching down. He practically jumped into my arms, licking my face.

  “It’s alright boy.”

  “Make yourself useful and get digging. We need wheels.” I’m sure you won’t be surprised if I say that Mara didn’t care about me and Rusty’s moment.

  I looked back at the cars barely poking through the ground. And you know what? I did my job. We had a shovel in the back thankfully, and I got to digging.

  It was hot. Really hot. I wasn’t used to it yet. I still remembered what snow felt like back then.

  The work was backbreaking. Rusty did his best to help at least. I’d toss a shovelfull out of the hole I was making, and he’d kick it away, making sure the sand didn’t just fall back in.

  Digging down was only half the problem. I got to the top of the tire, and my heart sank.

  “This tire’s flat.” I said in disbelief.

  “The fuck do you mean it’s flat?” She stepped out of her car and looked over. “I swear, if you pierced it-”

  “I didn’t! There’s no cut, it’s worn out.”

  “Look at the next one then.”

  I quickly downed some water and food, and got back to work. This one was a little easier, with how much sand I had to remove to get to the first wheel, some of the work on the second was done.

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  The sun went down, and I kept working. Shovel after shovelfull, hour after hour. When I finally reached the second tire, my worst fears came true.

  “This one’s flat too.” I say quietly.

  “Check the trunk for a spare.”

  “I’m sorry, but I need some rest.” I didn’t want to say it, but there was no other option. I couldn’t dig out an entire trunk right now.

  “Fucking useless.” She stepped out and ripped the shovel out of my hands. She got to work, and Rusty and I went back to the car. We ate, and we slept.

  We woke up what felt like a few seconds later to the driver door opening and slamming closed. Mara didn’t say anything, just started up the car and drove across the sand. I didn’t even feel the tire getting changed, I was that exhausted.

  She turned up her music, even beyond how loud it normally is, undoubtedly to keep me up. And it worked. She was all about those silent punishments for things I did. I can’t say it didn’t help in the end though, learning how to work through sleep deprivation? Yeah, that was invaluable.

  Blowing one tire didn’t make Mara slow down at all. We made it another hour before skidding to a halt again. We were lucky the car didn’t flip.

  “Fuck it. I’ll fix it in the morning.” She flipped off the music, reclined her seat, draped her rifle over her chest, and was out like a light.

  Rusty and I followed her only a minute later.

  When the sun came up, we did our job. We’d dig down enough to break the back window, letting sand flow inside. That saved a little time. Meant the alarms went off though, and we couldn't get to the battery. I ended up climbing inside and finding my way under the dash. I took my knife and started slicing until the alarm stopped. I learned pretty quickly what wires needed to be cut.

  Mara taught me how to pop a lock. It was pretty easy on older cars, not so much on the new ones. But you could always pull down the back seat, climb in the trunk, and release it from the inside. Some security feature or something.

  Mara eventually learned we had to take things slow. Anything above forty would make a tire pop in a few hours, and the faster she went, the faster they went flat. We did eventually reach the city though. Or what was left of it. Fires had claimed several of the skyscrapers. With no water to put things out? They were just burnt out husks.

  Most buildings still had their roofs sticking out, but the city was quiet.

  “You’re driving.” She ordered, and I did. She took my spot, rifle in her hands.

  I took things slow, and she even turned the music off. We had an awful lot of buildings to pass before we reached Mom’s apartment building.

  Several of the homes had their front door or windows dug out. Whether that was people living there or scavengers, we had no idea. The closer we got to the skyscrapers, the more signs of life we saw. Footsteps and tire tracks in the sand, windows knocked out to give access to floors, no matter what level the sand was at. A lot of the same things you’d see in Denver today, although people weren’t quite so used to brutality yet. They were desperate, yes, willing to fight, willing to kill, but people were more scared than they are today. Nobody took a pot shot at us just for fun.

  The parking garage was easy to get into. Looked like at least a few people came in and out every day. The sand was shoveled into a smooth-ish ramp leading into the second floor. I took us in.

  There were an awful lot of cars still there, almost all their tires were either flat or missing. Interestingly though, most of them had their trunks popped open. I guess Mara was right. Always mark something you’ve searched, and leaving the trunk open was as good as any other.

  I found a spot high up in the parking garage and pulled in. Mara stepped out, rifle in her hands, keeping watch.

  “Where’s your mom’s apartment?” She asked.

  “Ten floors up. There’s a staircase right over there.” I nodded towards a nearby wall.

  “Start bringing stuff up. I’ll watch our shit.”

  “What if I run into someone?” I still wasn’t ready to kill again.

  “You’ve got your mutt and a pistol, don’t you? Quit being a bitch and get it done.”

  I grabbed what I could carry in one arm and headed upstairs. Every step echoed through the stairwell. Rusty and I were alone, finally home.

  I didn’t hear a soul on the way up. I got to the landing and pushed the door open. The hallway was a disaster, it looked like a tornado flew through the place. Doors were opened and apartments had been ransacked, my old neighbor’s stuff thrown carelessly into the hallway.

  I saw my mother’s jacket on the ground in the mess. She always wore the same one when it got close to freezing. Our front door was wide open. Nothing to do but to check.

  “Come on boy.” I pat him on the head, just as much for his comfort as mine.

  I kept my pistol drawn as we approached.

  I turned the corner and took in the scene.

  The place had been ransacked. Our curio cabinet was smashed, family heirlooms missing or spread across the ground. We had this gold pocket watch that she wound every morning. My great-grandfather gave it to his son when he married, who gave it to my mother when she did the same. She always told me I’d get it when I married. It was gone, along with everything else of value. Only things left behind couldn’t be sold for cash, her graduation cap, family pictures, that kind of thing. Although even those were trampled carelessly underfoot.

  The kitchen got the worst of it of course. Cabinets, fridge, pantry, all scraped clean a dozen times over. Someone even broke the faucet, likely in an attempt to suck out whatever water was still in the pipes.

  “Mom?” I called into the empty apartment, to no response. I put the food on the table and kept moving. I couldn’t stop myself from checking the doors. I at least had the presence of mind to close and lock the front door first.

  I headed straight for her room. With shaking hands I pushed the door open. The room was dirty, but empty. I don’t know if that was easier or harder on me. Sure I didn’t have to see her corpse, but equally, there was no closure.

  A lot of her stuff was missing. Her work backpack, medicine, jewelry, clothes. She must have left, I just wish I could know where she went. She was left to the sands certainly, I just wish I knew how.

  I checked my room next. It felt weird to see someone else had gone through my room. My mother never even went in there without asking, she always felt giving me privacy was important.

  There was nothing to do there besides head back down and grab another load. I locked the door after I left. Even if the door was open and unlocked, and someone certainly had the maintenance key to let themselves in, I could still hope they were gone.

  Mara wasn’t relaxing when I came down. She just gave me cover and kept an eye on everything.

  It took a few hours, but I did my job. My legs were burning, Rusty was panting, but we did it. Mara took the wheels off and the gas out of the tank while we worked, making the car useless to anyone else. Our last two runs were bringing all of those upstairs together.

  I grabbed the key from my pocket, and let us both in.

  [author]

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