The surge of adrenaline was still pounding through my system, drumming with the rapid, over-clocked thump of my heart in my ears. There was a high-pitched ringing in the back of my head like I was about to have a splitting migraine.
'What the hell is happening?'
Everything around me looked like it had a faint purple tint. For a few minutes, my vision and head were completely out of whack. I don't know if it was the after effects of the earthquake, that blinding light that transported me to the desert, or something else. But my head felt swollen and felt like at any second it might burst into a million soft, sloshy pink blobs.
I turned, spinning my body a full three sixty, the motion unsteady, sand shifting beneath my shoes. My eyes confirmed what my gut already knew, I was in the middle of nowhere.
No buildings, no roads, no trees. Just an ocean of dunes. An endless stretch of absolutely nothing.
The sun loomed, a merciless white orb with no pity. I had no idea which direction to go though everything inside said I should get moving. Unless I wanted to become a dried-out husk in the middle of nowhere.
I could practically hear my skin sizzle under the sun's glare.
My phone was gone. Lost somewhere in the chaos. Even if I'd somehow found myself with it the chances of a signal out here in the middle of nowhere was hilarious.
The sun was no help whatsoever when it came to directions as it should change its location in the sky throughout the day. Its only purpose at the moment was turning me into cooked unseasoned meat.
"At least I would be a mouthful" I muttered thinking of the few pounds I had gained during pregnancy that stubbornly stuck to my hips.
"What the hell am I even thinking now?"
I gave myself a mental shake, forcing my body into action before panic rooted me in place any longer. I dropped my bags onto the sand at my feet, sending a puff of fine dust into the air. Carrying them the way I had been wasn't going to work for long. My arms already ached from the strain.
First, I had to decide what was worth keeping.
I crouched and put one knee down on the sand, the heat of the sand radiating through my pants was similar to standing by a gas stove.
My little grocery store run was now looking like a cruel joke in the middle of this wasteland. Six cans of fish, six protein milk boxes, a large can of cereal, six juice boxes, a five-liter bottle of spring water, a pack of crackers, a roll of cling wrap, infant pull-ups, a pack of wipes, a bottle of fabric softener, and of all things a large bottle of mayonnaise.
I stared at the mayo for a second too long, feeling almost hysterical that it had made it through an actual apocalyptic event and out here in this desert. In a kitchen, sure. Here? Completely useless.
With a sigh, I tore open the bag of sixty infant pull-ups, I took out ten. They could be used for more than their intended purpose, padding for injuries, water storage in a pinch, and insulation for cold nights if the desert decided to flip a switch. The rest I tossed aside, the pale bundle landing with a muffled plop.
Next, I pulled other things and added them to the bag which now had the ten diapers in. Four cans of fish, four protein milk boxes, four juice boxes, each one a potential lifeline in the days ahead. I added the wipes and the crackers, and of course, the precious bottle of spring water. Everything else was dead weight. Even this much was pushing it, but uncertainty had a way of making me greedy.
I could feel the sun licking at my neck, sweat trickling down my spine as I loaded the chosen items into one bag. The cans clinked together, and the combined heft of everything made my arm muscles protest a bit.
My knapsack came next. I pulled it around and tied the shopping bag to the top handle strap. I reinforced it with the crab clip I always kept on my bag strap, a little piece of preparedness from my city life that now felt vital.
I remembered the bus driver saying something similar on the journey to the city, 'No but we should at least prepare for the worst, I'm telling you, this will not end well'
"And there I was thinking she was being a bit overdramatic, she was more aware than most of us"
From the side pocket, I slid out my compact umbrella. When I popped it open above my head, it cast a small circle of shadow over my face and shoulders. It wasn't much, but it cut the glare of the sun, making it easier to move without squinting.
I straightened slowly, adjusting the straps on my shoulders until they sat well enough to not hamper my movement. My gaze drifted to the groceries I had discarded, left in the sand like garbage.
A pang of guilt flitted through me, I hated to waste, it was a habit formed from years of being frugal with almost everything.
"It's better to move light than have so much to carry. This will be a very dangerous trek. Sorry, Mom!" I muttered. My mother was one who always harped on about not wasting food and about how there were always people in the world starving. It's funny that at my age and in this situation I would remember how much she hated wasting.
I picked a direction at random. The horizon was flat anyway and with nothing to go on, random was the only way to go, I had to start somewhere.
The first step was the hardest, breaking the invisible anchor that said that standing still was somehow safer. I adjusted my umbrella, took a breath, and walked.
Survival depended on me continuing to move forward until I saw a way out.
Behind me, the abandoned items sat in the sun, already fading from my mind as the sands swallowed them, just like it might swallow me if I stopped moving. I won't stop.