[ WP ] There is a road where people depart , but nobody ever arrives .

Amberle shrugged into the backpack. The motion tugged at her chest and she doubled over, coughing. When the spell passed, she wiped the blood off her lips and started adjusting the pack's fit using the makeshift straps she'd made out of strips of half-rotted curtains. 
 
 `` You ca n't do this. I ca n't let you do this,'' rattled a voice, barely above a whisper. 
 
 Amberle stopped messing with the straps and went over to the box spring and mattress that lay on the bare concrete floor. She took her mother's dark, bony hand in hers. `` Mama, you know I have to.'' 
 
 `` I know no such thing. Baby girl, nobody comes down that road. There's nothing out there.'' Windblown dust scoured the windows. Despite the layers of sealant around the cracks, drifts of it still piled up under the windows and in the corners of the room. 
 
 `` That ai n't true, Mama. The people at the well, they all say the city's still standing. There's a hospital there, Mama. They'll have medicine to make you better.'' 
 
 `` Rumors ai n't got anything to do with what is. You know that. And you got the sickness now too. Even if it is still there, how are you gon na make it to the city in your state?'' 
 
 `` I'm still fine, Mama. It's just a little cough now and then.'' Amberle tried not to see the reproach in her mother's eyes. `` I have to,'' she said again, as much to herself as to the thin woman in the bed. 
 
 `` Fine,'' her mother said, head sagging back into the paper-thin pillow. `` If you're too stubborn to see sense, I guess I ca n't stop you.'' 
 
 `` I'm sorry, Mama. Brichard and Tanisha will come by to take care of you while I'm gone.'' 
 
 Her mother looked away, staring at the wall. `` That Brichard's a good boy. You shoulda married him when you had the chance.'' Amberle heard the rest of it as surely as if Mama had said it out loud: *Then maybe you would n't be so determined to go kill yourself. * 
 
 Amberle sighed. She'd tried explaining once why she did n't want to marry, but Mama had spent too long in the old world, and she was stuck thinking of things that way. Deep down, she thought things would get better, that there was some reason to bring kids into this world, some future for them that was n't thirst and sickness. Amberle had been eight years old when the water went away. Amberle knew things only got worse in this world. 
 
 Sometimes in her dreams, she was laying on the lawn, fragrant grass tickling her ears. The sprinklers came on, soaking her sundress in seconds, and she'd hop up, sputtering. The dream ended there, and usually that's when she'd wake up, staring at the ceiling, thinking about the corpse of a world. 
 
 `` The sun's coming up, Mama. I got ta go. It's only a few days' walk to the city. I'll be back in no time, I promise.'' She grabbed up her water jug and her mask, layers of torn-up T-shirts with cotton stuffed between. It kept most of the dust out of your lungs. 
 
 `` Kiss me goodbye before you go, baby girl.'' 
 
 `` Goodbye, Mama.''
