Heartbeat

Her feet dragged across the dirt, clouds of dirt trailing her every step. The ground was rough, eating away at the soles of her shoes. Her footprints cemented themselves in the earth, screaming that someone was still around. No one was around to hear those screams. Danielle Cox, her name thick in her throat. She hadn’t spoken for weeks, maybe months, maybe years, for she had lost track of time a while ago. Danielle thought that if she at least remembered her own name, she wouldn’t be completely certifiable. That if she could still feel her heart, she would know she was still alive; every once in a while, the muscle in her chest seemed to still. 

For the first few days, she had looked at the scenery around her. She had searched and searched and searched for anyone, anything. Only to find demolished buildings, cracked and falling apart, the only inhabitants being foliage. Only to find cars busted and beaten on the side of the road, keys still in the ignition, some still churning in place, with no one behind the wheel. Only to find her home, once full of the laughter and arguing of her siblings and the kind, but stern eyes of her parents, empty. Her mother’s soft voice crept into her ears once in a while, telling Danielle that she had to be strong in this world, for it was cruel to no end. 

Her eyes started to grow glossy and wet, thinking about her family. She was reminded of her humanity, for her entire body winced in pain at the memory. She picked up her pace, her calloused hands grasping to the bag on her back for stability. Danielle was a few states away from the one she was born and raised in, looking for supplies and though she had given up on the idea of other people being around, a small part of her still prayed there would be someone around. This town was no different than the dozen others she had traveled through; it was slowly being overturned by the earth, for no one was around to stop it. Danielle sometimes wondered if this was a punishment conducted by Earth itself, that it had grown tired of all our destruction and decided to wipe everyone out, except for her. If she had it in her, she would have stopped walking and laid on the hard dirt, hoping the earth would finally take her. 

*

She had made her way into a decrepit grocery store, the wallpaper peeling away, the metal of the shelves deteriorating, and the linoleum floor decorated with cracks. She sighed, her dark brown eyes grazing across the store. Danielle used to love her eyes, the way they complimented her stunning dark skin, with speckled undertones of gold. The way they always seemed to radiate strength and beauty, drawing everyone around her into the pools of deep color, with rings of lighter browns on the edge of the pools. She hadn’t seen her eyes in a long time.  

She began grabbing canned foods and shoving them into her backpack, quickly heading into the drink aisle to stock up on water too. She was zipping her backpack up when she heard a noise; it wasn’t the sound of screaming trees or rustling water, but rather a shuffling of feet. She was frozen in place, wide eyed, her heart picking up for the first time since the disaster stuck. Her body was immediately riddled with adrenaline and in any other circumstance, would have been welcomed. 

“Who’s there?” She asked, her voice too coarse and quiet to sound menacing. Another noise, the sound of sneakers skidding across the grocery floor. Danielle immediately stood up, shakily grabbing a knife she had taken from her home. Her eyes flitted around the store, desperate to find something, to assess the danger.

She slung her backpack over her shoulders and began slowly making her way around the store, listening as intently as she possibly could, straining her ear drums. She could only hear her ragged breath and the silent tap of her shoes against the floor. Her knuckles whitening with the strain she put on the knife's handle. Suddenly, a different cadence of footsteps began up again, seemingly in the aisle next to her. Danielle took a short breath, inching her way toward the back of the aisle she was in. She stood in the in-between of the aisles, her back pressed against a bottle of laundry detergent. She was close enough to hear quick breaths and the quick movements of inanimate objects moving. 

In a moment of courage, she turned facing her oppressor, her knife posed to strike if necessary. What she found stopped her in her tracks; it was a girl, roughly her age. Her green eyes wide, shimmering like a century old emerald. The pale girl was frozen too, struck with fear and awe. She had fiery, red hair that was chopped raggedly below her ears, in her freckled hands she held a backpack and a water bottle. It took Danielle minutes to let the knife fall to the ground, her eyes still locked on the girl’s in front of her. They both simply stared at each other for a few minutes, marveling at the fact there was another human being in front of them. 

“Are you… real?” The girl’s voice cracked, her accent was thickly Irish. Danielle almost immediately started to cry, for hearing another voice that wasn’t her own or her memory playing cruel tricks on her. The Irish girl’s lips began to form a smile, a broken one made of chapped lips, but a smile nonetheless. All she could do was give her the same blistered smile, a feeling of hope and joy bursting out of her chest. 

“What’s your name?” Danielle asked, taking a step closer to the girl, eager. Her voice was growing accustomed to talking, her vocal cords vibrating in relief. She had a million questions bustling around her head, but that was the one that made it through her clenched teeth.

“Amelia… Amelia Sullivan.” Her throat struggled to produce the noise, but Danielle didn’t care. The high-pitched noise sounded like music to her. Danielle allowed her eyes to look at Amelia entirely; she was thin, her cheeks gaunt and sharp, purple circles resting under her eyes. Her hair was curly and unkempt, tied into a tight ponytail at the base of her head. Amelia seemed to be taking in Danielle too, both their brains trying to comprehend the fact that someone else was alive. 

“Danielle Cox,” She croaked, her voice cracking, tears finally spilling over her eyelids. The feeling was welcomed, it gave her a rush of jubilation, for she hadn’t lost it. She hadn’t given up. She hadn’t been alone. She could finally feel her heart again, for it pounded with a new sense of hope. The smile on her lips grew wider, her dimples showing through; the motion hurt, but she didn’t care. Danielle hadn’t noticed Amelia crying too, her green eyes blurred by salt and water. Then, Amelia did something Danielle didn’t expect, she closed the gap between them and hugged her. Danielle was stunned, her tiny body warm and comforting, she could feel Amelia’s fingers clench against her shirt, her tears staining her shoulder. It only took a moment for Danielle to hug her back, clutching to her as a newborn clutches to their mother. 

“Thank you.” It was all Danielle could mutter through sobs. It was a thank you to the girl she held, to the earth for having mercy on her, for her mother’s strength that allowed her to make it this far. It was a thank you to herself, for persevering despite the crushing loneliness and hopelessness. In response, Amelia simply hugged her tighter, understanding the sentiment and all its weight.