Janie and The Gray: Part 11

The river widened and calmed, fast water replaced by gentle ripples and twirling eddies. Some distance ahead, a bridge crossed the river — its centerpiece a trailer bearing an Amazon logo.

I swam toward the shore and trudged up the embankment. Dimples climbed out after me and looked as awful as I felt. His dark wet mop of hair contrasted with his pallid face — lean, hollow, and hungry. I shivered violently.

“You went down hard back there — you were out cold,” Dimples said, his words jerky through clattering teeth. "You okay to run?"

"I need a minute."

He nodded and started hopping up and down, shaking his arms, blowing into his hands, rubbing them together.

“We need to get underground," he said, more to himself than me. “What’s your name?”

“Janie," the word felt weird in my mouth and foreign to my ears. "You?”

“I’m good with Dimples,” he said, flashing a practiced dimpled smile.

"I —"

“I'll follow you,” he interrupted and pointed toward the woods. “If we head north we should eventually hit some residential areas. Surprised a warship isn't on us yet.“

“Probably making a beer run,” I snarked.

“Yeah, kegger at the mothership,” he countered. "Let's roll, Janie."