The Search

Collar, call 'er. They're linked somehow.

The connection pushes something in me, and I yell out. The cry, a sorrowful call for her, for Andra, slams in harsh echoes against the wall and wakes me from a dream. Before my eyes opened, I was picturing the two of us comfortably seated in our old dining room feasting joyfully on the biggest steaks I’ve ever seen. I haven’t had a real meal since the morning of the disaster.

I had left our home on that insane day not because she yelled at me as she sometimes did or to enjoy the company of a neighbor as I sometimes did, but for something much worse. It’s worse because there was no reason. I felt the urge to have an adventure of my own, so I left, and I've regretted it ever since. I was having an amazing time running the trails, and I didn’t even register that time was passing until it started to rain. I’d been gone all morning. As soon as I got back, I knew something was off: the cars were gone from our little block, and the streets were empty. Our door was open, but her little locket sat solitarily on the dirty mat. Makes me smile to think how she used to scold me for caking mud on it...

I saw lines in the mucky yard and recognized one of her favorite Toms stuck there. Someone had dragged her there—maybe the brother who I hated—and forced her to leave under the guise of her own safety. Good thing she had the presence of mind to drop the locket.

I didn’t stop to eat or wonder where I’d find water, I just blindly ran into the city searching all the regular places she might be. What a blow to lose someone so abruptly who had been the center of my life for years. Maybe if I’d been better to her…

But she left because they forced her to, because of the disaster. Everyone must have heard about it at the same time because they were all gone. I wish I knew why…I still don’t know what happened.

Three years later and I’m living in one of those big box stores. I never had a membership here, but now the joke’s on them—there's nobody to keep me out. Nobody. That’s who I have. The disaster must have taken a lot of lives because you don’t see many people these days.

I’ve traveled all over the countryside in search of her and answers—you’d be surprised how much ground you can cover in three years—but I always end up back here. I don’t know why this store feels like the best place to look; maybe it’s because she used to shop here all the time, and I figure she’ll have to eat at some point. It also helps that a family of raccoons moved into our old house so I can’t live there.

Her locket is around my neck: heart-shaped (like most of her jewelry) with a picture of her inside. Why would she carry a picture of herself? Who cares. Sometimes the latch, which can be pretty tricky, slips, and I get to see her. Does her keeping that picture make her a narcissist? I heard one of her exes call her that one time. I don’t care. I’m going to keep searching for her even though the things I don’t know, like the definition of narcissist, could fill this warehouse.

Like how to read a map, for instance. That’s a skill that would have been helpful. I do have a few good qualities, though. I'm protective…not that that matters when there’s no one to protect. I’m like a hillbilly who could walk ten days in any direction and not lose himself, but would be helpless in New York City. I’m like him, no education to speak of, except the usual schooling when you’re young, but other than that, nothing useful for survival. I guess I have a pretty good sense of direction, which helps in the long months of searching away from home. But there’s so much I don’t understand.

If I did know more, I’d explain that the world didn't end from a plague, bomb, or famine. I did sense near the end that people stopped loving each other, so maybe that had something to do with it. Who cares what the reason is if I can’t be with her?

Can you tell that today I almost feel like giving up? Maybe she’s gone forever. Maybe it's not a bad idea to just lay here on a forgotten company’s frigid warehouse floor and to stay here forever. Maybe not.

I feel an urge to call out for her once more. I don’t want to. The feeling doesn’t go away, so I crack my mouth in the smallest opening possible and make a sound. My voice feels thin and weak in the vastness of the warehouse, but the act of speaking perks up my ears.

In the distance, I hear a sound that is more than the echo of my pitiful cry: someone is in the store.

My primal self wants to be afraid, but I am hopeful…hopefully defensive. I force myself to stand. I begin to patrol the aisles.

I turn a corner and see a man. He’s tall, muscular. It wouldn’t be an easy fight. He’s ripping groceries from the shelves and stuffing them in a bag. He doesn’t notice me. In a different world I bet we could be friends, but right now he's stealing from me. He's stealing from food that Andra may one day need.

I’m not the strongest right now, but this store is still the way that I will find Andra, and this guy is threatening that. I call out. He looks up with fear in his eyes. I should mention I can look very angry when I want to.

A woman shouts something behind me. At first the sound she makes is indistinguishable, but something in her tone calms the fight in me. She says my name with some hesitation: “Riley?”

I turn around. I knew it. It’s her, it’s Andra. I have a feeling we’ll be together forever…but I don’t care about forevers right now, I’m just happy to be in this moment.

I run towards her; I hear a mechanical noise behind me.

“John, no!” She calls out. But it’s too late—I hear the blast. As the bullet knocks me into Andra, I realize John is her new love, and he must have thought I was attacking her.

She wraps me in an embrace and sees the locket.

“You found it.” Her smile makes it all worth it. I don’t mind that I hurt as long as I can spend these last moments in her arms.

Andra’s hopeful words contradict her tear-filled eyes: “I knew you had to be alive, Riley. I’m going to take care of you. You’re going to be fine, I swear.”

I want to believe her, but I don’t know about all that. I believe the emotion of love and that she wants me to survive, if not the facts that I am wounded beyond anyone's mortal help. Despite that, I know that all my searching was worth it, even if it had to end this way. I love her.

As she leans over my tired body, I see a bundle on her back: a newborn. The child and Andra have the same features. I smile.

There is a lot about this world I don’t understand, but I know instantly that the child is part of my family, my clan, and my flock. Hope strikes me, and I have a reason to survive. I will.

I will protect this baby because she is a part of my family, and more importantly, because I was born for it, and that is what Australian Shepherds do.