"Maybe…" I said. I looked down at Bee, busy organizing her play area for the day. Oh fine, I'll just say it. "Or it could be me and Bee."
Bee looked up at the mention of her name and shot me a smile. I touched her dimple with my finger, "You are trouble; you know that?"
"Let's just see how it plays out," Alex mumbled from behind me.
Very shortly, we'd be in Louisville, Kentucky. As the morning hours passed, the trees that dotted the riverbanks became sparse, replaced by wide open parks and fields. Buildings, many just showing the first signs of neglect with plants growing out of gutters and broken windows, began outnumbering the trees. There were people, at first just one or two, then larger groups of a dozen or more, working along the riverbanks. Washing clothes, filtering water, or bathing – they all stopped their work to watch us row past. Bee waved to every single one of them. Several waved back, smiling.
"A different perspective from our hiking trails," Alex said from behind me.
I nodded. "When we started to see fewer and fewer people, I thought we were dying out. Turns out everyone was just flocking to freshwater sources."
"And thriving," Susan chimed in, staring at a fenced off area full of chickens. "Remember all the bones we found?"
I nodded. On our way from Mammoth Cave to D.C. then West Virginia, we saw countless remains of dogs and cats, sometimes even horses, lying exposed by a snuffed out campfire. "People had to eat something once the packaged food ran out."
I touched the bag of canned vegetables at my side. The chickens, even scratching around in the mud as they were, looked far tastier.
A dog ran around the pen, playing. It was one of the lucky ones.
We passed under a series of bridges, and all at once the groups of people grew in number – so much so they couldn't be classified as groups. It was just one, large mass.
"How are all these people surviving?" I wondered aloud.
"The rivers support the masses," Alex said. "Look Bee!" He pointed to five horses tied up by the river, drinking.
Five horses! I never thought I'd see another horse.
"Big dog!" Bee shouted at them.
We laughed. "Horse, honey. That's a horse – neigh!"
Bee spent the next two hours practicing her horse sounds until one loud, horn blast drowned her out. She jumped into my lap. "Thunder!"
I brushed the hair out of her face and kissed her forehead. "No – not thunder. Some kind of horn." I turned around and looked at Alex, my eyebrows raised in question.
He shrugged.
We slowed the canoe, and motioned the rest of the group to do the same. Robert and Margie, now in a double kayak, were the exception. They pushed forward to investigate, both looking at me as they passed. Robert had a set chin and narrowed eyes, Margie glanced over me from head to toe, then Bee.
Looking for injuries, perhaps? Would she be relieved or disappointed that we had none?
I didn't get a chance to find out. They rounded the river bend before I could read the expression on her face. Their kayak disappeared from sight. A long silence seemed to last forever, all eyes just beyond the trees, seeking out the tip of their red kayak. Another horn blast. This one put me on edge. The energy in the atmosphere heightened as Elementals put their powers at the ready.
I wanted to shout out to hold fire, until we saw the whites of their eyes or something, but the truth was I was a hair away from blasting down those trees myself so I could see what was happening. Finally, Robert and Margie came paddling upstream. Robert waived his arm, gesturing the rest of us forward. They both looked excited.
"Susan, can you tell what it is from here?" I asked as we put our oars back in the water.
She put her hand in the water, too. "Something big."
"Care to be more specific?"
"Can't." She looked back at me. "Fill Bee's lifejacket, just in case."
I looked down, it was nearly deflated. Our stitching job wasn't holding the air very well.
"Careful, Kaitlyn – we don't want to attract any unwanted attention," Alex said.
I rolled my eyes. I was always attracting unwanted attention; it was inevitable. I used energy to inflate the pants hanging around Bee's neck. She didn't notice, still staring at the direction of the horn.
As we rounded the bend, the horn sounded again and the source revealed itself. I craned my neck up to see a large steamboat barreling down on us. Four stories high, with black and gold steam columns and red, decorative trim; the ship was straight out of the 1920's.
I blinked, then rubbed my eyes.
"Row!" Alex shouted. "Row, row, row!" Our convoy of canoes split down the middle as everyone scrambled to get their oars in the water. Our canoe shot forward.