Written by: authorelizasolares

NEAR DRUMHELLER, ALBERTA, CANADA

August 4th, AFTERNOON

I've never been on the run before. And I don't think I like it.

But I've been doing it since that blasted object first arrived overhead.

Didn't have much choice when the government was scrambling like ants in the rain and everyone was busy pretending they knew how to prepare for the worst. My scientist mother and former military father picked our whole family up and walked us away from anything I'd ever known.

Which is sort of how I ended up here, in this nearly-abandoned gas station in somewhat rural Alberta, clutching the two most important items in the world: my mother's favourite necklace and a letter I received mere hours before we had to evacuate.

The young woman behind the counter wears a red polo shirt, a tight ponytail and a ridiculously large smile. "May I interest you in a selection of our artisan corn products?"

"Those are corn nuts." I balance my borrowed blue bike against one of the walls of the small confectionary.

"Yes they are," she replies, completely ignoring my dishevelled clothing, my illegally parked bicycle, and the aisles of nearly empty merchandise behind me. "But they are a lovely treat for such a warm day as this."

"I'm just here for some water and a map."

"Maps are at the back."

I follow her directions to a small wire rack in the corner and spin the display, wondering why they still carry so many paper maps in this day of cell phones at everyone's fingertips. But I guess I should be glad of it, now that my cell phone is no more than a glorified paper weight.

And, given how I'm only here right now because my old map flew out of the basket of my bike somewhere on highway nine, it isn't even very useful as a paper weight, if I'm being honest.

My fingers find the pendant of my mother's necklace as I spin the display, the impossible task of finding my own way taunting me as I do. You can do anything you put your mind to, mija, she would say if she was here. Never forget that you can.

I'm annoyed at myself because I wish she were here. I'm supposed to be finally making my own way in the world and I'm clinging to my mother's necklace like it's life support.

"Can I help you find something?" the bright young girl asks, startling me back to the task at hand.

"Uhh—"

"Oh don't you worry, I know maps. Where are you off to?"

Where am I off to? I'm off to meet a man I've only ever met in letters and emails and text messages.

"Near here," I reply.

"Oh that's so exciting. You don't look like you're from around here." She steps in front of me and spins the display, picking out a perfect, pristinely folded copy of 'Central and Southern Alberta' and placing it in my calloused hands.

"I'm not." I don't look at the map too closely, accepting the peace offering for what it is.

"Oh I wish I could travel the world. Have you travelled the world?" She doesn't even give me a second to answer before she adds, "You just look like you're on an adventure!"

Well, that's one way of looking at it.

"Yes, you're right. I'm on an adventure," I reply, trying to convince myself as much as her. I'm not on the run from a huge alien spacecraft or the crushing weight of my mundanity, I'm just on an adventure.

I follow her through to a bathroom door while she talks my ear off about all the places she wants to go and how much she admires me for going off on my own.

"Have you seen the alien ship?" she asks. "Now that would be an adventure!"

"A little," I admit, "from far off."

"What was it like? Was it majestic and magical?"

"It was more humongous and terrifying," I answer, but she shrugs it off like it's nothing.

"It still sounds like an awesome adventure."

Maybe she should go see it, then. This conversation is getting awkward.

"You mind if I–?" I gesture to the bathroom.

"Of course! I'll get out of your way."

Finally, she leaves me alone to fill the old canteen Papa had given me the day the lights first began to flicker. And there, as the cold water overflows the narrow spout and runs down my shaking fingers, the weight of everything I'm doing crashes into me.

In my twenty-two years of life I'd never even been camping. And now I'm here biking across a province and a half to meet a young man I've only ever written to.

"You doing alright in there?" the young woman calls from down the hall. "I can grab you something else if you need."

"No. No, I'm good." I shut the water off and dry my hands, stowing my canteen in one of the oversized pockets on my dress. "I'll be out in a minute."

"Take your time!"

I push the door closed and take a few steadying breaths to ground myself. My fingers are still shaking when I pull Alejandro's last letter out of the tattered envelope it arrived in, unfolding the cream paper and tracing my fingers over the curling marks of my name in his hand. Beautiful and curly and ornate, like someone had walked straight out of the 1700s and taught him to write with a feather.

Even though I've memorized his words, I read them again. I let myself absorb the excitement and reverence he has for this place. And I remember why it shot right to the top of my bucket list. Which, right now, is looking like it might be on a time limit much shorter than I once believed it would be.

It's time to go. I tuck his letter and my mother's necklace safely into my pocket and pull my fingers through my messy black hair. I'm going to find Alejandro. Even if I only have a bike and my own two feet to get me there.

Even if the thought of me leaving had made my dad's head pop off his shoulders in a column of steam.

Even if I have to do it on my own.

* * *

I've been biking for an hour and twenty minutes and still not reached town. I think. Wait, did I? No, I didn't. And I definitely should have by now.

I slow to a stop at the side of the highway and turn the map over in my hands, trying to orient myself. The thing they don't tell you about paper maps is that they don't turn when you turn. They just stay however you choose to hold them, whether it is right or not.

Evidently, the situation at present was... not right.

"Excuse me," a voice says from behind me.

I grip the map and wield it in front of my chest like a shield, turning to face the sound and sweeping my eyes up and down the shoulder of the near-deserted highway. "Who said that?"

But there's no one here.

"Great. Now the barley's started talking to me. That's definitely not a good sign."

I spin around again, disoriented as the fear and anxiety form a nice little lump in my throat. My nearly empty water canteen laughs at me from the rusty basket of my borrowed bicycle.

I've just about calmed myself down when an incomprehensible string of words rings out behind me in a language I've never heard before. Then, a pop.

"Sorry about that," the voice says again. "I umm... sometimes a guy gets a little nervous."

Slowly this time, map gripped loosely in my fingers, I turn to face the voice. It belongs to a small compact figure of a man who can't be much older than me. "How did you do that? Where did you come from?" I ask him.

His dark hair is short, sticking up at all angles, and he's holding nothing but a small bag and a water canteen. But he doesn't answer me.

"How did you do that?" I demand. How did he just appear out of thin air?

His cute little smile has me distracted. He's about as threatening as a stuffed animal. Or the giant friendly dinosaur the town of Drumheller is so famous for. I can still see how his large green mouth smiled down at me as I cycled past.

The dinosaur, not this guy.

"Well?" I demand again when he still doesn't talk. "What do you want?" The can of expired bear mace burns a hole in one of the patchwork pockets of my mostly denim dress, but I don't make any moves. There's no need to give away all my secrets to this stranger unless it's absolutely necessary.

"I'm just here as a tourist," he answers, taking a slow, cautious step toward me. "I've always wanted to see the area. Especially the hoodoos. We don't have anything like that back home."

"Who does?" I blurt. "I mean, I've never particularly wanted to visit the area, but what else is there to do when your parents take you across the country and absolutely everyone has run out of gas? There isn't really anywhere to go. This seemed better than sitting on the porch and listening to an old guy tell stories of the alien ship that once landed in St. Paul as if there's actual truth in that story."

"I love St. Paul. I believe there's a UFO landing pad there to this day." The young man's lips curl up at the edges and he takes another small step, edging slightly closer. A little ping of electricity shoots straight through me.

What the heck, body? We don't need this nonsense today. Shake it off.

"Yes, well, it's just a tourist gimmick. When's the last time you heard of an actual alien using it?"

Instead of backing down, the mysterious dark-haired man lets out a bark of a laugh, and then has the audacity to attempt to cover it with a cough.

Maybe he's snapped, too. I mean, the world ending does weird stuff to people.

Not that I would know what that's like.

"So if you aren't a fan of the aliens, and you don't want to be here," the man asks, "why are you?"

"I told you—"

"Yes. To get away from the old man's tales. But surely you could have gone anywhere. Why here?"

Why is he staring at me so intensely? "It's a place we used to come when I was younger. I assumed I wouldn't get lost if I was in a familiar place."

He raises a perfectly arched eyebrow impossibly high into his hairline and a small smirk pulls at the corner of his lips.

"Obviously it's working," I continue dryly when he doesn't say anything.

"So your plan is to just... wander around?" he asks, stepping closer still and resting his hand on the basket of my bike.

He's too close. I can feel his breath on my face.

"Yes," I insist, pulling my bike out of his hands and jerking myself away from him. "I'm just checking out the area before I head back."

"Would you like some help finding your way? I'm sure I could—"

"No," I insist, pushing my foot into the pedal and propelling the bike forward as fast as I can muster.

Racing away from a man who got too close is totally rational, of course. But wasting at least thirteen minutes worth of energy before remembering I have no idea where I am? Not my finest moment.

I coast to a stop and hop off my bike, keeping one leg on either side in case I need a quick getaway again. I can't waste any more time if I want to get there this afternoon. And I have to get there this afternoon or he'll be gone and this will all be for nothing. I don't have a clock, but it doesn't take a genius to tell that the sun is getting lower in the sky and 'afternoon' is quickly approaching its end.

Twirling the now wrinkled map in my hands, one thing is clear: I have no idea where I am or where I'm going. I can't even find the town I'm supposed to be in.

I never knew a person could actually be frozen by fear, but here I am just... stuck. Afraid. Maybe of the man I just met, or the pen-pal turned maybe more who I was supposed to meet, or the fact that a giant spaceship is covering half the continent in darkness.

Even without touching us, it touches us.

The sun shines into my eyes, making it hard to see anything and even harder to think. I'd come way too far to give up now, but everything in me says I'm not strong enough to carry on. Maybe it's just best to find a place to camp and cut my losses. Maybe all of this is a sign.

Maybe this was my adventure and this is all there is for me.

"You sure you don't want some help?" The dark-haired man from before returns out of thin air. The shock of his arrival sends me falling backwards into the dirt.

"Will you stop doing that?" I ask with a huff, picking myself and my bike up off the ground, brushing off my dress. "You make it a habit of popping out of nowhere to scare women you've never met before?"

"Not usually," he admits with a smile. "But I do have something that can help you."

Out of his bag, he pulls a small, grey device.

"But, the satellites." I begin. "They're not working. How is that still—?"

"I must be in range," he says with a shrug. "You want to find this place or not?"

I want to lie. I want to tell him I know exactly where I'm going. But I don't know where I'm going. And I'm running dangerously low on options, water, and time. My phone remains a dead battery brick atop the crumpled map in my basket. If he knows where I'm going, well, he might be my only chance to meet Alejandro.

With a deep breath and shaky hands, I nod. "Okay. I'll let you help me."

"Alright, then," he says, slinging his bag over his shoulder and across his chest. "Let's get going before we run out of daylight."

He takes off on a light jog and I scramble to get back onto my bike, pulling my skirt around my legs to keep it free of the chain and then racing after him.

We travel like that for a long while, me riding slowly and him jogging along beside me with suspiciously little heavy breathing. Who is this guy, some kind of Olympic marathon runner?

"So, are you heading anywhere near where I'm heading?" I ask after nearly thirty minutes.

"Yes," he says in reply. Maybe he's more out of breath than he looks?

"What's your name?" I ask, several minutes later. I'm going to blame the nervous energy for why I'm incapable of keeping my darn mouth shut.

"People here usually can't pronounce it," he says simply. "So I go by Alex."

"Well, Alex, do you live around here?"

"No."

"What brings you to these parts then?"

"You ask an awful lot of questions for someone unwilling to tell me anything true."

I almost fall off my bike with the force of that comment knocking into my side. "I—" I stutter.

"It's okay," he says without looking at me. "You don't have to tell me anything. We're nearly there. Turn right up ahead."

Had I really been that close? I kind of regret caving and asking for help, now. My mother's voice rings through my head. There is no shame in help, mija. You can do this. Her necklace, still safely in my pocket, gives me strength to press on despite the growing winds and slowly setting sun. I can do this. For her.

"I'll wait for you around the corner," I shout over the wind.

Alex shakes his head and smiles, gesturing for me to go ahead of him. "See you there."

A twinge pulls in my belly. I'd never been good at lying, but these last four days of biking across a distance heretofore unknown to me had led me to many things I was less than proud of. Not the least of which was wearing the same dress for as many days, washing it in whatever moving water I could find.

Sometimes a lie is necessary.

The wind blows my knotted hair back and I race around the corner, triumphant in the knowledge that I've finally arrived at my destination. Except I haven't. It's just another stretch of dirt road with farmland along one side and a line of trees along the other. No viewpoint.

I skid to a stop and let my foot down onto the ground to balance myself.

Where is he leading me?

A hundred possibilities are racing through my head about the impossibly fit dark-haired man who calls himself Alex.

My thoughts must conjure him because he rounds the corner at the exact same pace he'd been keeping since we started this journey.

"Why did you lie?" I blurt before I can think too hard about whether or not that is a good idea.

"Lie?" He stops a few feet away and stares at me.

"You said it was just one more right," I accuse, heat rising in my body along with the shame and the fear and whatever other cocktail of emotions my stupid brain had cooked up. "And here we are, having taken the right. Do you see the lookout?"

"I said you needed to take a right, not that we were done."

I want to protest, but I'm mesmerised by the glint of the little silver device from before as he pulls it out of his pocket and hands it out to me.

"I wondered if you wanted to try navigating for a bit," he starts. "Just so you know you have control over where we're going and I'm not leading you somewhere you don't want to go."

Heat crawls up my neck and settles in my cheeks. Had I been that obvious?

I smooth my dress down, though the wrinkles just pop back in full force the second my hands are removed. "Yes, thank you. I would like that."

He holds it out again like a little tease, so I climb off my bike and walk it over to him, standing at the farthest distance where it is still possible to snatch the little rectangular device from his hands.

It's surprisingly light and no matter how many times I turn it over, I cannot find a place where it opens for repair or where a battery might be housed.

"What is this?" I whisper to myself.

"I believe you tend to call them navigation systems or geopositioning devices."

"This is a GPS? It must have cost a fortune."

"It is rather rare, I'll admit," Alex says before launching into the explanation of how to use it. Which is actually quite simple. I just type where I'm going and the device brings up a path. Exactly like a GPS should.

I get it right on my first try, and before he has a chance to ask me any more questions I'm back on my bike, following the little purple line.

Past a gigantic farm with at least three grain silos.

Around the bend that turns sharply downward.

Onto a bright open road with a truck with Ontario plates parked on the shoulder, full of men wearing suits and cowboy hats arguing about which way it is to Twin Butte. Bright red fabric drapes out the back of the tailgate emblazoned with some kind of Alberta Freedom slogan.

Even that doesn't slow me down. I keep moving forward, picking up the pace the closer I get. Mama was right, I am going to get my adventure.

Finally, I make the last turn off the paved road and into the wilderness. The beautiful lookout comes into view before me with the setting sun falling down behind it into the Alberta Badlands. The red-grey stripes of rock are accentuated by the purples and pinks dancing across the sky.

"It's beautiful," I whisper to myself.

"It is," Alex agrees, reaching his hand out to stop my bike. "Let's walk from here. There's stairs."

There's something about the way he speaks that makes me want to do whatever he asks. Plus, who am I to disagree about whether there are stairs?

I follow where he leads, placing my toes on the footholds he uses and taking careful, measured breaths as we climb the stairs to the platform with the little plaque explaining the history of the area.

I did it.

I made it.

I'm here.

But Alejandro is not.

"Is it everything he said it would be?" Alex asks, facing the edge of the platform and shoving his hands into his pockets.

"It is," I breathe. "Everything and more."

I must be hypnotised by the fresh air because it takes me several seconds to realize I never told him anything about Alejandro. "Hey, how did you—?"

"I can't stay long," he says, looking over both shoulders, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth.

"But how did you—? Why did—?"

"You just seemed like the kind of girl who longed for an adventure," he replies, reaching out to hold my hand in his. "I'm glad you get to have one."

"Are you... I mean."

"I have to go," he says again, pulling back and turning away.

But in a second he's turned back to face me, dark eyes staring intensely into mine, left arm reaching out for me.

Instinctively, I take a step forward and give him what I assume he wants. I place his lighter-than-air GPS into his hand.

He pushes it back to me. "Keep it," he says with a smile. "Have some adventures until you find a way to use your own device again. It was a pleasure to meet you."

And then he turns on his heel and races down the stairs we just climbed, reaching the bottom in no more than a blink of an eye. I must be delirious from the heat because when he gets to the bottom, I swear he disappears into thin air.

He must have gone behind one of the sharp jutting rocks so quickly I missed it. Or maybe it was all a dream?

The device in my hand beeps, the screen flashes and then a gigantic number '26' appears in the centre.

It must be ten o'clock. The sun has set and the aliens have sent us the first message of the new day. Twenty-six more days to go.

A breeze picks up my skirt and blows it right into my face. When I manage to wrestle it down, the flutter of paper catches my eye at the top of the stairs.

Tentative, gentle steps carry me to the edge of the platform and I sit down, picking up the familiar floral paper and unfolding it. It's the last letter I ever sent Alejandro.

So he was here.

And so was I.

That had to mean something.

The device in my hand buzzes and beeps and then stills, the number disappearing and being replaced by a map, this time with a new destination highlighted. One I didn't put in.

"Castle Falls," I muse. It's not a short trip, and it would definitely not be easy. I push to my feet and look out over the scene one last time.

Only then do I notice a scrawled note on the back of the envelope in my hands, unmistakably in Alejandro's elaborate script: You deserve your adventure. Take it.

A glint of the disappearing sun catches my eye and I know I need to make a choice: head east and back to my family or west to a place I've only ever seen in pictures.

Alejandro's message burns in my hand, so I shove it into my dress pocket where it can't hurt or influence me. My hand brushes the unmistakable cold metal of my mother's necklace.

I pull the delicate heart-shaped pendant out of my pocket and turn it over to read the inscription, even though I've had it memorized since before I could read.

Tú puedes. You can.

I gather all of my courage and secure Mama's pendant around my narrow neck, pulling my knotted black hair up into a ponytail.

I'm not sure where this journey will lead, but I'm going west. I'm going to see a waterfall that might well be the last gift anyone ever gives me.

No matter what happens from this point forward, it's going to be for me.

"This is an adventure," I say aloud, looking out over the quiet desert landscape. "Even if it is the end of the world." 

<<<<< END >>>>>

Find more stories by authorelizasolares on Wattpad.

Eliza Solares comes from the cold Prairies of Canada where she spends most of her time with her children, her cup of tea, and a good book. She enjoys movies, junk journals, and crocheting way too many blankets.

Eliza's feel-good stories are fun, energetic and only-occasionally-chaotic tales to escape into, complete with snappy dialogue, quirky characters, and a little angst piled on top of a whole lot of humour. Not to mention characters who really like to get into situations they can't get out of. But they always find a way in the end.