Last Woman by Jacqueline Druga

you have the ledge, I’m going to try to push you up there, so be ready. Please don’t fall.”
    “I promise.” I took a deep breath, when I stepped on his bent leg; I was already seeing the ledge. I reached up and Dodge lifted me. With his leverage, I grabbed hold of the concrete and pulled. I was fighting and struggling to do what was a glorified chin up. Just as I was about to give up, I’d love to say I found my inner fortitude, but the truth was, Dodge, gave a good hoist.
    Once my chest hit that bridge, he maneuvered his hands down my legs and lifted me enough that I was able to get the rest of the way onto the bridge.
    As if it would help or matter, I held down my hand.
    Dodge just smiled, climbed up … then grabbed my hand.
    “Good job.” He shook my hand. “What’s wrong?”
    “Why didn’t you tell me how bad I looked?”
    “I told you that you didn’t look well.”
    “It’s beyond that. I saw my reflection.”
    “Faye.”
    “Yeah?”
    He stared at me and said seriously, “Now’s not the time for vanity.”
    I couldn’t help it. I actually laughed. I … laughed. For the first time, really, it wasn’t fake, it wasn’t forced, it was genuine. I told him he was right, and turned. It was breathtaking, the empty bridge.
    “Dodge, this looks all clear.” I peered over my shoulder as he gathered the things.
    “I’m betting it’s that way for a while. People were trying to get out of the city, not in.”
    “I suppose you’re right.” I started to walk. “Maybe we’ll get to my house in no time. Find a car and …” A few steps into my walk, I didn’t hear Dodge and knew he wasn’t walking with me. Even without a squeaky wheel, the rolling suitcase made noise.
    I stopped and Dodge wasn’t moving. He was staring at something in his hand.
    “Dodge, what is it?”
    He held out his palm and had a look of shock on his face. “An M&M.”
    “Oh, don’t eat that. You don’t know where it’s been.”
    “Do I look like I’m gonna eat this?”
    “I don’t know. Why pick it up?”
    “Why is it here?” he asked.
    “Someone dropped it.”
    “Faye, what were you eating a little bag of last night? You didn’t finish.”
    “M&M’s. From the MRE. They were stale.”
    Just then I saw Dodge bring that M&M to his teeth. “Dodge!” I scolded like a mother.
    He bit down, cringed and spit it out.
    “Why would you do that? You said you weren’t gonna eat it.”
    “I wanted to see if it was stale like those ones from last night. It was.”
    “Okay.” I tossed out my hands. “It was stale. The point?”
    “The point is ... if traffic ended over there. What’s a piece of candy, stale nonetheless, doing over here?”
    “Someone dropped it.”
    “Exactly.”
    It took me a moment and a second glance at the look on his face to see where he was going with it, what he was possibly thinking. “Dodge, anyone could have dropped that. Before the flu. A soldier would be eating an MRE.”
    “But it doesn’t make sense. It looks like it was just dropped.”
    “Do you think someone else was eating a bag of candy from an MRE and dropped it while making their way across this bridge?”
    Dodge nodded. “I do. What do you think?”
    “Honestly?” I paused and inhaled. “I believe you’re thinking too hard and looking too much into it.”
    Dodge tossed the candy to the bridge. “You’re probably right.”
    “I’m sorry.”
    “No …. I am. I’m just looking for anything and everything.” Almost defeated, he swung the pack over his shoulder, and started walking, pulling the suitcase with him.
    I didn’t want to say anything else. Dodge was hopeful. He truly did believe there were other people alive. Me, I believed, if there were people alive, they’d be a lot harder to find than that tiny piece of candy on the bridge.

19. Downing Park
     
    The bridge was more than just a crossing over the river from one side of town to the next. It was a bridge to a different story.
    The empty bridge led to