Chapter 2

Scout

Purity, my ass.

I'm heading slowly west, trying to take note of everything around me, while all the time my head is ringing with my father's words.

Of course, I'm still a virgin. I've grown up in the wilderness, rarely even laying eyes on anyone who's not a blood relation. But the thought that my dad is planning to use this as a commodity? My blood boils.

Right now, I want nothing more than to track down the biggest, gnarliest mountain man I can find, and demand he ravish me.

Happens to be one of my favorite fantasies, actually.

Sometimes, when I'm in lying on my old army cot trying to get to sleep, I imagine some feral, musclebound guy striding into our underground bunker, taking one look at me and insisting I'm his. He throws me over his shoulder and hauls me off to his cave or log cabin or whatever. Then he tells me how beautiful I am, strips me naked and teaches me alll about love.

I sigh. So far, my sex education has been lacking, to say the least. But I'm ready to learn.

I snatch the GPS tracker out of my pocket. There's a little green flashing light in the top-right corner, showing it's working.

I lift it up high and toss it into the trees.

There.

No one can track me out here now.

No one at all.

A spot in between my shoulder blades prickles. And if I don't manage to find my way back home?

Scout, it was never your home.

You're free now.

You can be anyone, do anything.

I repeat that thought over and over as I plunge through the deep undergrowth.

I'm free.

I can start over. I never have to see my crazy family again.

I can find my way out of the forest and look for the nearest small town. See if it's a place I might want to live. I don't have any money, of course, but I can probably barter some of the stuff in my backpack. Maybe the folding bow my dad was so proud of getting for each of us.

I keep walking, dreaming of living in a modern apartment. One with a queen bed and closet. A vanity filled with make-up and perfume. A whole collection of hairbrushes.

But as the sun drops lower in the sky, reality hits:

I'm deep in the wilderness, about to spend my first night without a roof over my head.

I've got a sleeping bag and a hammock, and that's all. Nothing to ward off the beasts that prowl around in the darkness. Least of all the bears.

Oh, god. The less I think about the bears, the better.

It's almost dark now and I should set up camp. All I need is two solid tree trunks around eight feet apart, and a little spot of bare earth beside them. I pass a few okay options, but I keep plunging on. I'm scared to stop. Scared to pick a spot that turns out to be a big mistake.

Gradually, I realize that I really can't see anything. Trees and sky are just different grades of gray, and I keep tripping on the undergrowth.

Come on, Scout. This is dumb.

I stop, haul off my backpack and root through it until I find my wind-up torch.

Its beam is weak, but it was all dad allowed us to bring. You think there'll be batteries in the Final Fiasco, huh?

Staring into the darkness, I crank the handle furiously.

And that's when I see it:

A bright light in the distance.

Way brighter than a firefly, or any other natural phenomenon.

Huh, that's weird.

Maybe I'm closer to civilization than I thought.

My heart gives a little jump, and I start walking toward it.

It's rectangular, like the window of a home.

It is a home.

But I'm still deep in the forest. Tall trees surround the house on all sides.

I stop dead, the hairs on my forearms prickling.

An isolated house in the middle of the forest. Not a cabin or shelter, but something large and solid-looking. Kinda like a prepper's home.

There's probably somebody watching me with binoculars right now.

This is the last thing I can deal with.

Shoulders slumping, I turn away and retrace my steps.

I'll just head back a half-mile or so and find someplace to hunker down for the night. It'll be easier now with torchlight?—

Dinner.

A small silver thing dashes across my path, and my reflexes go on high alert. All those hours of training that were supposed to create muscle memory have paid off. Silently, I reach into the side pocket of my backpack and draw out my folding bow. Without looking, I open it out and click the apparatus into place. My attention is completely focused on tracking the oblivious little rabbit through the trees. I slide out an arrow and fit it into the bow.

It clicks into place reassuringly.

I draw back the string, and?—

Crunch!

Branches break right ahead of me. Like something heavy just crashed through the trees. Then something even darker than the night plunges into my path.

I raise the torch I'd forgotten I had… and gasp.

A bear! A massive one. I make out huge, bristling shoulders and long white teeth.

It's going for the rabbit, too.

I should be scared. Hell, I'm petrified.

But maybe because my stomach is rumbling like crazy, I'm also mad.

That's my rabbit.

It won't even make a dent in a bear's appetite.

I swing my bow toward the bear. Is the arrow even capable of piercing a bear's thick hide? It was designed for killing small prey.

The bear lets out a sound. I swear it sounds surprised.

Then it lunges for me.

My fingers release the arrow.

Thunk.

It hits a tree, just above the bear's left ear.

The bear lets out an angry roar.

Fuuck!

I turn and run. Suddenly the prepper house doesn't look so bad after all. I sprint toward it with everything I've got.

I'm going flat out when my foot catches something.

Oh, heck.

I'm no longer running, but in suspended animation. Then flying headlong toward the forest floor….

Then everything goes black.