The Tempest by A.J. Scudiere (best books to read in your 20s .txt) 📕

Though she was once again not confident she was making the right decision, she was making the one she had to make. So she turned back to the trees and checked the sun, hoping to stay aimed in the right direction. Luckily, it only took a few minutes before the sound of water, filtered through the trees, maybe reflecting off of the trunks and the leaves, grew louder.

It seemed to come from so many directions at once that she stopped, feeling Toto’s claws dig in until he re-balanced himself. But when she thought about it, if it truly was a stream, it would be cutting her path, and the sound should come from several directions. So she simply tried to make sure she didn't walk parallel to the water and constantly miss it, or take a wrong turn and leave it behind her.

Unable to cut a straight path, Joule disoriented herself a bit, but shortly found a clear, running stream.

“Holy shitballs, kitten!” she said before remembering she named him. “Alright Toto, time to drink!”

This time, when she lifted him from her shoulder, he let go easily, seeming to be as eager for water as she was. As his paws hit the hard-packed dirt, he made a beeline for the edge of the stream. She was grateful she'd found this before she grew too thirsty and she took a moment to watch his little tongue lap into the water.

The little fucker was cute.

But she couldn’t just watch him. Leaning over, she put her hands into the stream, but pulled back quickly at the sharp bite of the cold.

Alabama was so hot, so humid—how was it possible this wasn't a hot spring? But it wasn't. Pointedly ignoring where the water might have come from, and hoping that the pretty color and clarity meant that it was safe, she dipped her hands in and scooped up mouthfuls until she'd swallowed far too much. Who knew when she would find water again?

She hadn't found so much as a water bottle or a discarded cup as she'd walked across the field. Though there had been plastic bags, pages from books, and splinters of wood, nothing had been a usable container to carry water. So she drank until she almost felt bloated and ignored what she knew about carcinogens and waterborne parasites.

By the time she’d had her fill, Toto was sitting back and licking his tiny paws.

“Where do we go now?” she asked him. Task one had been achieved, but what was next? “Do we follow the water?”

“Mrrwow.”

She laughed into the empty air. If only she understood him. But she didn’t care.

“Okay. Upstream or downstream?”

“Mrrwow.”

“Agreed! Downstream is more likely to lead to civilization.” And since she didn't want to walk through the water and deal with wet feet, following along made the most sense.

She had no idea how long she'd be out here wandering alone.

Scooping the tiny kitten back up, she headed down the path, avoiding muddy patches and thinking that as long as they followed the stream, at least they’d still have drinking water.

Water was more important than food, she knew, although that might be their next goal.

It was hard to keep track of time, but she figured it was a good forty or fifty minutes later before she finally saw through the trees. In the open field stood what had been a farm just hours ago.

The barn was only half standing, looking as if an angry toddler had come along and stepped on a block building. Hay and pieces of board—painted red on one side—trashed the yard.

Cows milled about and, as Joule looked at them, she wondered if their numbers matched the original or if any had been picked up by the twister and spirited away.

An almost-empty, square foundation sat a good distance away. She would have to cross the stream to get to the farm, and the farm was the likeliest chance of finding people, even if the house wasn’t still there.

Joule began hunting for stones to step across the water, hoping she could do this without getting her feet wet. Why had she not picked up some of the plastic bags she’d passed?

Even as she chastised herself, she thought she heard a truck.

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“Yes!” Joule thought, spotting a series of rocks protruding above the surface of the burbling creek. She'd been just about ready to splash into the water and run after the truck she’d heard.

“Wait!” she yelled out as she took her first tentative step and the stone tipped a little. When she had her feet steady, she hollered again. “Wait!”

The yelling made her ribs hurt. Using her lungs like that for the first time let her know she was more bruised than she thought.

As she clutched Toto close to her chest, Joule picked her way across the stream. Falling in and having to scoop herself out would be far worse than simply wading through. When she hit the last stone, she jumped for the far bank, sliding in the mud on the upside. She scrambled for a moment trying desperately not to squeeze the kitten, drop the kitten, throw the kitten, or slide back down the bank into the water. She managed to make it to the top with just a little bit of mud on her shoe by grabbing a small tree for anchor before she slipped past.

Jumping up, Joule waved and hollered at the receding truck. She would have waved both hands, but one of them held a tiny kitten. The tail lights faded into the distance, though she waved and yelled, trying to catch their attention.

“Wait. Wait!”

But the truck disappeared, never having seen her.

“Fucking fuck monkeys,” she muttered to Toto. With nothing else left to do, she headed onto the farmland, checking out what she could.

The farm was an eye-opener.

She was not getting closer to civilization. Following the stream hadn't helped. She was still out in the middle of nowhere. The question was, how far out?

The good news was that there was a