Coral walked behind Benjamin but ran out of energy a few hours later, well short of sunset. Again, they dug a warm nest for the night, and again, she fell asleep within seconds.
She woke to Benjamin shaking her. “Coral! Get up!” He sounded upset.
“What? Are we under attack?”
“No, it’s morning. I couldn’t wake you. I was—“ She couldn’t see him in the dark, but she heard him take a deep calming breath. “Worried.”
“I’m fine. How are you? Is your arm worse?”
“It can wait. Can you get up, do you think?”
No.
She pushed herself up on her elbows. “Yeah.”
“Okay, I’ll be waiting outside.”
Fighting her way out of the sleeping bag was as much activity as she wanted to try. But she backed out of the snow cave, rolled the bag, and once she had sipped some water and walked a few steps away to pee, she tied the bag over her shoulders.
“I can take it.”
“It doesn’t weigh much at all.”
“But you’re weaker.”
“Always have been.”
“No. No, that’s not true at all. I’ve been amazed at your strength, over and over again. You’re strong, Coral, just a little hungry right now. You can do it.”
“Good speech, coach. I’m ready to take on the world.”
He surprised her with a quick hug. Then he grabbed both burlap sacks and led the way down the subtle line of the road. Another month of snow, and there’d be no way even for Benjamin’s keen eyes to pick out a road or a river from a plain. She followed his back in a daze, trusting him to lead her where they needed to go.
A couple hours later, Coral fainted.
She didn’t know it had happened, not until she came to, with Benjamin lightly slapping her cheeks. She pushed at his hand and tried to sit up.
He pushed her back down. “You’ve had it for the day.”
“No. Just give me a minute.” But it felt so good to lie here, even with the cold seeping into the back of her legs and head. It would feel so good to close her eyes and go to sleep.
“Coral!” he said. He gave her a shake. “Are you awake?”
“‘Awake,” she said, without opening her eyes. She was watching the interesting little dots floating around on her eyelids. Like stars. As close to stars as she would ever see again. She liked the stars once. They were so pretty. Stars….
“C’mon.” He grabbed her arms and pulled her to a sitting position.
When he let go, she could feel herself starting to fall again, but the sensation seemed removed, it was as if it were happening to someone else. Then something cold was on her neck and her eyes popped open.
He had yanked off her bandana and was rubbing snow on her face and neck. Water trickled down into her sweater.
“Okay, okay,” she said, rolling over onto her knees. “I’m getting up.” She made it to one foot, but when she tried to put her weight on it, the leg collapsed. She ended up lying on her side, panting far more than the slight effort warranted. She had to focus even to keep her eyes open.
“I’m digging you in for the day.” He crawled a few feet away and began burrowing into a snow drift.
Her voice was steady when she said, “Digging my grave.”
“Don’t. Don’t say that.”
“I’m starving to death. Save yourself while you can.”
“I’m not in as bad as shape. You’re forgetting, the UFO cult fed the men more than the women. I’ve got a little more stored up.” The snow kept flying as he dug.
“If I die, will you eat me?” More pitiful-sounding than she meant that to come out.
“Stop it!” He whirled around to glare at her. “And no, I wouldn’t. But it’s not going to happen.” Back to digging, his arms moving like machines.
Coral closed her eyes again and drifted. She came to her senses again when Benjamin pulled her up and made her crawl into the snow cave.
“You stay here,” he said. “I’m going on alone for a few hours. I’ll be back by dark.”
It hardly seemed to matter. Coral didn’t think she’d be moving on tomorrow, either. Her muscles felt like overcooked pasta. Somehow, she made it into the cave, where Benjamin had already spread out her sleeping bag. She crawled in and was unconscious in no time at all.
When she next woke, it was dark outside. Benjamin was nowhere to be seen. She felt a little better, good enough to hunt around herself for bottled water, if he’d remembered to set any bottles next to her.
She wasn’t surprised when her hand found the smooth round shape of a bottle. He wouldn’t have left her unsupplied. She fumbled it open, drank a few mouthfuls, and decided her bladder could be put off for another few hours. It was cozy warm in here and it would be frigid outside. Besides, she was still so tired. So weak.
Benjamin wasn’t back: the thought came late. It was night, and he’d promised to be back by now. Worry overwhelmed her weakness, and she thought about going out to call for him, but wriggling out of her bag and crawling to the snow cave’s entrance proved to be enough to exhaust her. She crept into her bag again, worrying that he had run into more trouble.
Surely they’d had their share already. If they were going to starve to death, why couldn’t the last week of life be without danger and pain?
If this is the end, let it be a peaceful end.
That was her last thought for a long while.
Next thing she knew, she was outside, in the dim light, being slapped. Her hands flew to her face, and she tried to steel herself for a fight, but her muscles wouldn’t respond to the instruction to stand and fight.
“Coral! Wake up!” It was Benjamin.
She focused her eyes—even that was getting hard—and tried to say, “Good, you’re okay.” But it came out garbled.
“I have food. Sit up.”
Her stomach didn’t respond to that news at all. Probably a bad sign.
“Come on. It’s raw, but it’s food.” He offered a bit of something to her.
She could only lie there, mutely.
He sat beside her and pulled her half into his lap, so her head and shoulders were raised. He pressed his fingers to her mouth and tucked something inside.
Cold. A little salty. No smell. She tongued the morsel back to her molars and bit down. Ice crystals crunched under her teeth. Then the flavor came to her—raw fish. She chewed a half dozen times and swallowed, and then opened her mouth like a baby bird.
“Just a little more right now.” He fed her another bite of the fish, and this one she barely chewed before swallowing.
She could feel the cool lump of food moving down her esophagus. It had been so long, it felt like a brand new sensation, surprising and awkward. The sense of the food being a lump dissipated, and a few minutes later, she felt something hit her stomach.
A moan escaped her as she began to cramp. Her knees drew up without conscious effort, curling her into a ball around the pain. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t move, could only lie there and try to bear it, try to get ahead of the pain. Ridiculous. It was only digestion. It shouldn’t hurt this much!
But it did hurt.
She forced herself to take deeper breaths, to try and relax. Forcing her legs to straighten out was a Herculean task, but the effort took her mind off her belly. Benjamin was making soothing sounds, as if to a baby. “I’m okay,” she managed to whisper.
“Of course you are. Give it a second more.”
She kept breathing slow and deep, and in another minute, the cramp did ease. “Wow,” she breathed, as she felt her whole body relax. “Man.”
“I know. It happened to me too, last night.”
She cleared her throat. “Water.”
“Just a little.” He steadied a bottle for her as she tipped it up and drank a mouthful of clear water.
It registered: there was not a grain of ash in the water. “Lake?”
“Or wide patch of river, hard to tell which. I caught a big fish right at sundown. I’m sorry I didn’t make it back last night.”
“S’okay,” she said. The cramp was backing off now. “Help me sit.”
Benjamin pulled her back into the V of his thighs, letting her rest her back against his chest. “Did you worry when I didn’t come back?”
She nodded, but then shook her head. It wasn’t important now. They were both safe. And there was food. “More fish?”
“Let’s give it fifteen or twenty minutes.”
He was right. Too much food could trigger vomiting or diarrhea, and then where would she be? Dead, probably, within the day, considering her weakened state. But now that her stomach was working at digesting, it was beginning to demand more food. “How’s your arm?” she said.
“Fine.”
Which is what he’d say if it were green and falling off. When she had the energy, she’d check it again. “How far?”
“To the water? Probably no more than three miles. Two hour walk, maybe three.”
She nodded and closed her eyes, tuning back in to her body, trying to get a sense of how it was handling the food. No urge to vomit—that was good. Diarrhea could kill her now, too, no doubt of that. As much as she wanted to wolf down the whole chunk of fish he must have brought back, she knew to wait. Good thing he was here, keeping her from gorging. Of course, if he weren’t here, there’d be nothing to gorge on.
They sat like that, sharing warmth, barely talking, and waiting for Coral to be able to take another morsel of fish. When he gave it to her, there was another cramp, but not nearly as bad this time. She breathed her way through it.
Benjamin said. “Let’s give it another hour before you have more.”
“How much do you have?”
“It was a pretty big fish, a yellow perch. Maybe a pound and a half of meat, plus the bones and head, which I left buried there for later.”
She looked around, checking to make sure there was no new snow. He’d be able to lead them back to the exact same spot by following his tracks. “I’m the fisherman, here,” she said.
“Yep. We had to settle for second best this time.”
“You did great.” She struggled to turn far enough to face him. “You saved my life, I think.”
“Maybe we’re close to even, then. I owed you a couple.”
“No way,” she said turning back and resting against him once more.
“Let’s stop keeping score.”
“Okay.” But her mind did travel back anyway, trying to tally up the score. He rescued her unconscious body after she’d been attacked in a town—something Mills, but she’d forgotten its name now. She’d saved him from the Walmart gang. They’d saved each other from the cultists. He knew how to shoot game, she knew how to fish. And once upon a time, she’d had a bow and arrows. She could make more, if they found a source of wood. “Help me stand,” she said.
“I don’t know,” he said.
“I do. Enough self-indulgence. Help me up.”
He rose and pulled her to her feet. Her heart pounded outrageously at the tiny effort, and she had to cling to his supporting arms to stay upright. “Damn, damn, damn.”
“Give your body a couple hours to turn the fish into energy.”
“We need to go today. Down to the lake.”
“We will. Don’t rush it. We have hours of daylight yet.”
“If we’re set up before dusk, I can fish some more.”
“Okay, okay. Sit and take it easy for now, though. Do you have to use the latrine?”
“Soon,” she said. Her legs buckled, and he eased her back down.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “In a couple hours, you’ll start to feel better. I felt a whole lot better when I woke up after eating last night.”
“I want to be able to walk
now
.” She slapped at the snow weakly, in frustration.
“Of course you do.” He patted her on the head, made sure she had her balance, and then he turned to crawl into last night’s shelter. He came up with her sleeping bag and wound it around her shoulders. “Pull it under your butt if you can.”
She could, but again, the small effort drained her for several minutes. “Tell me about the lake.”
“Well, it’s under three feet of snow, so I couldn’t tell for sure how big it was. Frozen solid for almost a foot. It took five minutes with the hatchet to punch out a fishing hole, and I was sure I’d scared away every fish for miles around by then.”
“Maybe I should go back into the snow cave,” she said. “I’m cold.” No sense in wasting the calories to keep herself warm.
“Sure. Let me help you.”
With his help, she reached the entrance and crawled in. He pushed her sleeping bag in after her. “Coming?” she called out.
“I’m going to hunt for fuel while you’re resting. I’ll be back in an hour or so, and we’ll eat again.”
She lay back and gathered her strength, willing the little bit of food to start fueling her muscles. It was whitefish, though, almost pure protein. Even a big fish like he had caught would barely be enough to keep them both alive for a day. She had to get herself together, quit being such a weakling, and get down there and catch more fish. Benjamin could hunt while she fished or hunt for wood for a fire. She could explain how she wanted to fashion a syringe to clean out his wound, and he could keep his eyes out for anything that would serve to build one.
She must have dozed, for it seemed like no time later when he was calling her name. She crawled out and he handed over a sizeable chunk of half-frozen fish, about half the size of her hand. She took off her glove to eat it. Making herself not wolf it down took an amazing amount of self-control, but she managed. After swallowing the last morsel and sucking off her fingers, she scrubbed them in the snow. She tugged her glove back on.
“Sorry it was still raw, but I didn’t find any wood.”
“Maybe there’s some at the lake or river.”
“It’s more likely. I’ll find the edges of the water and spend some time digging around there.”
“And hunt for animal sign.”
“Didn’t see any yesterday, but yeah, I’ll keep looking.”
Fish were better than nothing, but catching enough to keep them alive was an uncertain proposition. Red meat would be better. “Is there a town nearby, do you think? Maybe a store?” They hadn’t had much luck in searching through remains of individual houses. A store, filled with canned goods, not looted by anyone else since The Event, would be best.
“Once we’re fed up a little, we can hunt for that, too.”
She nodded. She excused herself to use the latrine, managing to walk on her own power, and returned to sit on the corner of her bag, wrapping the rest around herself.
“You feeling better?”
“It’s coming along,” she said. “I don’t know how far I can walk, but I think I can manage a short hike.”
“We’ll go slow,” he said.
He carried the sleeping bag, leaving her with only a couple water bottles, packed again with snow, tucked next to her body to melt. Otherwise, all she had to manage was her own body weight. They went at hardly better than a crawl south along his tracks.