Aftershock by Gabrielle Prendergast

Author:Gabrielle Prendergast [Prendergast, Gabrielle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Orca Book Publishers
Published: 2023-08-15T20:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

It finally stops raining. The moon comes out. That makes it easier to see where we’re going. We walk along the highway for a while. It’s cracked in places. But there are still cars trying to get through. The ones that pass us slow down sometimes. People call out to us. Men.

Mara doesn’t trust them. We decide to walk along the railway track instead. The moon is bright now. We can save the flashlight battery.

“What time is it?” I ask. The first words I’ve said in hours.

Mara looks at her watch. “About three a.m.,” she says. “The sun will come up soon.”

“How far away are we?” I ask. I don’t know if I mean “How far away from home?” or “How far away from where we’re heading?”

“Far,” Mara says. “We haven’t even gotten to Maple Ridge yet.”

My eyes are drooping again. Soon I feel like I’m sleepwalking. But Mara was right. After another hour the sky starts to lighten. I look behind us. East. A sliver of light peeks over the horizon. Dawn.

The day brightens. We see destruction everywhere. The railway is buckled. Someone’s shed is flattened. A bunch of utility poles have fallen over like toys. Broken power lines lie across the road. They’re not sparking. Mara says the electricity must be off. But we’re careful around them anyway.

When the sun is fully up, we come around a curve. There’s a clearing in the trees. We can see up to the road and beyond. A large group of people is gathered around an old church.

As Mara and I get closer, we see it’s not a church anymore. A sign says it’s a Sikh temple. There are men in colorful turbans and women in bright cotton tunics. One of the women runs toward us. She looks a bit older than Mara. Maybe a college student.

“Oh my goodness!” she says. “Where did you come from?”

Mara tells her a bit of what we’ve been through. The woman shouts at someone in another language. Two little boys run up with clean blankets.

Soon we are sitting under a canopy. Other people are sitting with us. White people, Asian people, people in hijabs or saris. The lady who greeted us gives us some veggie curry. She says her name is Amita.

“That’s kind of like my name,” I say. “I’m Amy.”

“Welcome, Amy,” she says with a smile. “Please eat. I’m sorry the curry is cold. We ran out of fuel last night.”

Amita sighs and looks up at the church/ temple. The stained-glass windows are all broken. Her smile falters.

“There are toilets inside if you need them,” Amita says. “They still sort of work.”

Mara and I look at each other. We’ve been peeing in the bushes. But I don’t want to tell Amita that.

“We’re fine,” Mara says. “Thank you.”

After we eat, Mara suggests I take a nap.

She says, “We’re a couple of hours from Maple Ridge. If we start again at noon, we could make it to Burnaby by nightfall. Then walk into Vancouver in the morning.

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