Chapter 1: Part 2

TWO YEARS LATER

​Clara and I stood waiting outside the Caravan Outpost. It was December, and strong winds whipped off the choppy waves, chilling me to the core.

I was a nervous wreck. Being a part of a Caravan was one thing; presenting your pitch to Caravan leaders was on the other end of the spectrum.

About six months after the evacuation, Caravans were formed by the people left in the United States. They were basically a way of contributing skills to a group of people in return for food, clothing, and shelter. They were like families, but once a year, all sense of family and security was thrown out the door, as if the leaders were trying to treat everyone with a sense of professionalism. That was the day the Caravan Pitches took place.

My previous knowledge in medical science, gained from working alongside my father, had gotten both Clara and I into the Caravan based in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina right after it was formed. Ever since then, I’d been taking care of most of the medical needs in our Caravan, sometimes travelling with a group for supplies, sometimes staying at the Outpost.

Clara and I had both trained in the necessary self-defense techniques, Clara’s skill quickly surpassing mine. Over the last couple years, she had been able to rid herself of her social anxieties by learning to barter for food and supplies, and she had become quite fierce. She was only thirteen, but could already put a grown man on the ground in seconds flat. Now, with her smooth confidence, she was calm and collected. She did not fear the worst anymore. Those days were over for her, but not for me.

I let out a shuddering breath, shifting my weight off of my bad ankle which tended to have more pain flare-ups in the colder months. Clara, noticing my uneasiness, slung an arm around my shoulder, resting her chin on my head.

“Relax, Kella,” she said calmly. “Look, Martin knows us, and he knows what we can do. We’re significant to him. As far as Martin’s concerned, we’re already in.” I wanted to believe her, and on some level, I did. Martin had been our leader ever since we’d joined, and he did see us as significant to his caravan, but there was always a chance that he wouldn’t want us anymore, that we’d have to leave and I wouldn’t be able to take care of Clara like I needed to. After all, he’d had his eye on a family from New York that had travelled down earlier that week for the Caravan Pitches. Rumor had it that the father had owned a medical practice before the evacuation took place, but his youngest son’s previous involvement with a trafficking ring had denied his whole family access to the evacuation ships.

“I know, I know. It’s just… we really need this Caravan. Besides, what about the family from New York? If the dad was really a doctor, that could push us out of Martin’s favor.”

“Even if he was a doctor, Martin still needs us for security purposes. We are the best two soldiers he’s got. A year and a half of boot camp and extensive training proves that.”

“No, you are the best soldier he’s got. He has reason to hold on to you, but I’m not really worth much to him.”

“Oh, come on, Kella. Every Caravan leader in the country knows who we are, and so does every leader of every trafficking ring for that matter. Martin would be crazy to let us go, and he’s a very smart man,” she said, as she playfully nudged my arm. I lifted my head and gave her a small smile.

“Thanks, Clara. You’re right. Martin needs us.” I continued to silently reassure myself until Joseph, another Caravan member and good friend, stepped out of the Outpost.

“Martin’s ready for you.” He flashed one of his signature half smiles as he held the door for us, and we walked into the lion’s den.