The Nameless Survivor (Valkyrie) (15 page)

             
Snagging the bar of soap I had taken from camp I made my way out across the pool and into the falls. The ancient bar had long shriveled and cracked, it must have been over a year since the last time I used it. Until now, cleanliness was not a necessity, and with a lady present I must maintain some level hygiene.

             
The sun's rays danced across the cascade of water creating a brilliant spectacle of light, like perfect diamond droplets falling from the sky. Mia and Nova continued to play as I washed up, trying to think of things that needed to be done, trying to distract my mind from inappropriate thoughts. When I finished washing away the months of dirt and stink, I swam back over to the shore and handed Mia the bar of soap.

             
“You know how to use this, right?” I asked, she nodded sweetly as she waded slowly out into the water, making sure not get in too deep. Respectfully I turned around, not only for her privacy but for my own pacification. In desperation Nova barked and howled at Mia from the shoreline, still too afraid of the water to take another leap in. By the time Mia finished and climbed out of the brook the sun had begun to set, it was time to head back. She got dressed as I picked up a few dried chestnuts from the ground, missed by foraging squirrels and deer, and stuffed them in my pockets. Always the scavenger, a survivalist’s rule number one.

             
Trying to race the fading sun we made our way back towards the cabin with our stomachs grumbling for dinner; stewed deer, cat-tail chutes, chestnuts, and a bottle of wine. Two-thousand and ten, a very good year, a year without this infliction. I've been able to hoard away a few bottles of wine since the Great-Outbreak, for special occasions of course, and a spring celebration was in order.

             
I've been attempting to perfect my own homemade wine recipes from nature’s garden over the years. Wild blueberry, raspberry, apple and even honey, but with no success. Each attempt results in a sweet yet rank vinegar, if only yeast was easier to come by. It makes me wonder how long it took early man to perfect the fermentation process. Moonshine on the other hand takes little skill, but mine is more like Prison-Cell-Hooch than true moonshine.

             
After dinner we sat at the table, talking and sipping wine for a few hours. It was obvious that this was Mia's first experience with wine, her face became flushed with red blotches after just a few sips. Eagerly I started on my fourth cup of wine just as Mia choked down the last sip of her first. She pushed the cup away in disgust, apparently it was not her cup-of-tea.

             
She continued to tell me stories of her past, yet most of what she said was inaudible. She was a light-weight, slurring her words and jumping from subject to subject with no transition. I watched as her head slowly began to bob up in down as she slouched further and further into the chair. She nodded off into a deep sleep just as I finished the last bit of the vintage wine. Carefully I lifted her from her drunken slumber and carried her off to bed, still she continued to mumble softly as if trying to finish her stories.

             
After tucking her into a sweet and inebriated stupor I headed outside and lit a cigarette. The night sky was almost as bright as daytime, the full moon hung high above the mountain and illuminated the trees. I canvased the forest, darting from one tree to another, their shadows playing devilish tricks on my intoxicated eyes. After just moments of nervousness my beating heart settled and I made my way over to the tree line, still puffing smoke up into the moons glow.

             
Unzipping my pants I began to relieve my stretched bladder as I continued to scan the forest. For a moment I stared at a tall fat figure swaying back and forth amongst the alders, trying to determine if it was just shadow or possibly a hungry wraith. My eyes began to blur with tears as I strained to get a better look.

             
Soon they cleared with the ability to make out every shrub and branch that was feeding my fears. My mind shifted as I reminisced back on today's progress. Slowly I swayed back and forth in the moonlight and closed my eyes, images of Mia playing at the shoreline with Nova raced through my head. Her young naked body, perfectly glistening in the sunlight. Oh what a beautiful girl she is.

             
Eventually I came out of my reverie to discover that I had finished peeing long before and was now gently rubbing myself. In a moment of shame I began to zip up my pants only to stop myself, it felt so good, it felt right. It had probably been a couple of years since I last pleasured myself, since the memories of the female body faded away like ghosts from my past. Too long for any man, I re-closed my eyes and tilted my head back in concentration.

             
In mere moments, it was over...

              Late spring fishing in the mountains on a hot sunny day is one of my most favorite memories of my childhood. The rushing water, cool clean breezes, and the abundance of life that celebrates the end of another cold, hard winter. Every year my father would take time out of his busy work schedule to bring me up to this same river and teach me how to fly-fish. The Dead River, until now I had never realized the irony that I still fish its sandy bed, but now in a Dead World.

             
It was a long hike down the mountain to the river, but fishing should be good. The Brook Trout and Salmon will be making their way up the rivers and into to the deep cold lakes further north. Smoked salmon is what I wished for, however I knew that brook-trout would be my most likely catch. I just hoped that luck was on my side today.

             
Mia explored the river bank with Nova as I waded up stream, tossing my doodle-bug into the water of every deep hole I came across. Carefully I made my way towards a large rock that just barely jutted out the dark tea-brown river, a perfect hole. These freshwater predators sulk down into the dark depths, watching the surface for falling morsels.

             
With skill and precision I tossed the fly out onto the rock, letting it bounce down into the water. With gently flicks of the wrist the fly jerked and wobbled in the water just like a real bug sinking to its fate. It wasn't long before the sleek shadow of a fish darted out from underneath the rock, they move swiftly and with purpose. Tiny freshwater sharks stalking their prey, Brook Trout tend to be ferocious eaters.

             
My pole twitched with a mighty strike and I quickly jerked the rod instantly setting the hook. The trout thrashed and fought with such energy and guile, leaping straight out of the water as it tried to shake free of the hook.

             
Yet its ferocity was of no use, being no more than seven or eight inches long, I easily lifted the beast out of the water, and pried the hook free. With a quick and sharp twitch of the wrist, I pulled hit's head back, instantly snapping its neck. Immediately the fish went limp, and with pride I tossed it into my fish basket.

             
“Got one!” I yelled up to Mia, but she was nowhere to be found. Panic almost set in before the sound of Nova's pathetic little howl rung out from further upstream. Mia's clothes lay out on the river bank and she was now wading up the river in the buff. Obviously she had overcome her modesty and fear of the water, Nova however did not, as she pounced along the river bank, barking and yelping for her friend.

             
Making my way upstream I desperately tried not to look at her beautiful figure, the guilt of that night is still haunting me. So I scanned the waters looking for other holes to drop my line. Along the way I was able to catch two more brookies, however these were much smaller than the first.

             
“We should eat well tonight,” I thought to myself as I began to collect a half dozen or so fresh water clams and couple crayfish that I found along my path. Of course this was far from the lobster boil I was accustomed to in the old world, but it was close enough.

             
“Hungry?” I shouted out to Mia, as I made my way onto a ledge that descended from the river bank and down into the water. She turned and quickly made her way back to shore, crawling up onto the ledge beside me, naked and dripping wet. The dry sand that lightly dusted the rock clung to her skin and sparkled with fire in the sunlight.

             
“This must be what Jesus meant by Temptation.” I thought to myself.

             
Immediately I removed the fish from the wicker pouch on my side and commenced gutting them. As I sliced into the bigger ones belly with my knife, a large sack of orange eggs exploded forth.  I separated it along with the heart and liver, tossing the remaining mass of slimy guts into the water. It was immediately assaulted by a horde of hungry baby trout, reminiscent of the cannibalism our kind currently faces.

             
Quickly I repeated the process with the other two fish, placing the gutted carcass back into the pouch. Picking up one of the egg sacks which resembled a clump of tiny orange grapes, I held it out towards Mia who cautiously scooped it out of my hand. She stared back at me, waiting for me to make a move. So without hesitation I picked up one of the other sacks and popped it in my mouth like it was just a French fry from a local grease-joint.

             
Trout eggs have a hint of saltiness, but is quickly overpowered by its sweet fishiness. On a positive note, there is absolutely no need to chew. The layer of slime that coated the sack allowed it to slide down my throat easily like an oyster out of its shell – delicious!

             
Mia quickly followed suit however the taste was apparently not as pleasing to her. Her eyes squinted tight as she tried not to gag while forcing it down. I couldn't help myself and laughed while holding out a heart to her, which she returned my offering with a nasty glare of disgust. However she swiftly popped the pea-sized purple heart into her mouth and swallowed with a tad bit more ease than before.  Exhausted I laid back onto the ledge and closed my eyes in content, allowing the hot sun to beat down on my face. Mia slid back down the ledge and into the water leaving me behind as I drifted off into a much needed nap. I listened intently as the two headed off upstream to explore the river.

             
The images of Bob Sprague infiltrated my mind whenever I closed my eyes. No longer do I dread them, instead I welcome them, hoping to find a meaning within them. But they are always the same, the same warning, leave. No reason, and absolutely no advice provided by this faint entity. Just go, but, go where? I'm not sure how much time had passed when my eyes snapped open in a panic, I could no longer hear Mia and an eerie stillness had swept over the area. Frantically I shuffled down the ledge and began wading through the water, heading upstream to search for my two mighty explorers. Mia's curiosity is something of a concern, and would put us both in harm’s way. Sloshing through the river I desperately tried to avoid rocks and deep holes, all the while calling out.

             
“MIA! – NOVA!”

             
Bend after bend I moved on, but no sign of her, I began to fear that she may have ventured into the woods. She had never been this far from the cabin and could get lost effortlessly. To lose her now, the only friend I have had in years, would be an utterly devastating blow to my morale. No longer do I contemplate ending my own existence, and getting plunged back into solitude would surely re-encourage it.

             
At last the sounds of Nova's frantic barking broke the stillness just as I was about to venture into the thick alders that border the river’s edge. Desperately I waded against the current and around the next bend. The force of the flowing water made every step feel as if I was drifting back another five.

             
Up ahead Mia knelt down in the ankle deep water trying to calm her frantic pup. My heart began to race, pounding in my chest like a jackhammer as I saw what had gotten Nova all wound up. Only a few yards upstream from Mia was the dreadful figure of an infected man, stumbling quickly through the river towards the unknowing girl.

             
Its rotten flesh hung from his outstretched arms as it reached out to grab hold of her. One side of its face looked as if it had been torn off, leaving a mass of rotting, puss-dripping flesh with its teeth and gums exposed and bleeding. Without hesitation I snatched the pistol from my side and dashed towards them.

             
“MIA!” I screamed out, loud enough to be heard over the rushing water. Her head whipped up towards me and instantly she began to shake at the site of me moving rapidly upstream with my gun drawn. She then whipped her head back around to find the infected almost in arms reach, causing her to fall backwards into the water while releasing a horrified shrill that echoed up and down the river.

             
The necrotic fell to its knees and gripped hold of her leg, the rushing water easily carried it's partially bloated corpse directly atop of Mia, pushing her down under the surface. Mia kicked and thrashed, trying desperately to break free. Nova jumped all about the infected, unleashing a barrage of barks and growls. Frantically she attempted to scare away this unnatural threat.

             
As soon as I was in range I snapped back on the trigger, the water next to the struggling girl exploded with the impact of the bullet. Without hesitation I fired again, this time the Necrotics face exploded and the body slumped down onto Mia. She thrashed about to get out from under the corpse, choking and gasping for air as the dead-weight pushed her deeper.

             
Rushing over I heaved the corpse off of her, and she rose up coughing and gagging as I desperately splashed more water across her face to wash away the disease. She was okay, and I am pretty sure no blood got into her mouth or eyes. But I knew only time would tell, and right now there was no reason to dwell on it.

             
Nova had long darted back up the riverbanks eroded edges and once again shook and yelped in fear. It will probably be a long while before she ventures back into the water again. One step forward, two steps back is how progress works these days. A never ending battle to survive.

             
Mia and I sat there in the river awhile, holding each other tight as she cried and sobbed in my arms. The wasted-departed slowly floated downstream, barely afloat and shrouded by a cloud of bloody water. The river flow pushed it along as it bounced off rocks and other debris until finally it sailed around the next bend and out of sight.

             
“It's okay, it's all over.” I whispered, Gently I lifted her up and carried her downstream to find her clothes and make our way back to camp. Over the years I have learned that if there is one infected, there are generally more and firing my gun was like ringing the dinner bell. We had to move fast, before they spotted us.

             
Mia, out of fear refused to let go of me, not even to get dressed. So up the mountain I trudged, carrying Mia along with her clothes and my fishing gear. The hike proved most difficult and my legs ached and burned in pain by the time we arrived back at the cabin.

             
By then, Mia had settled down enough to release her tight embrace and sat herself in an old iron chair near the fire pit. She rocked back in forth as she fumbled to put her clothes back on, obviously still in a bit of shock from the whole ordeal. As she dressed I began to pile wood in the pit and started a nice roaring fire to keep us warm.

             
We roasted the fish on sticks over the fire, Mia huddled in her chair as quiet as can be as she nibbled at the flaking flesh. Every now and then she would throw bits down to Nova, who greedily swallowed without chewing. The fish was oh so sweet and the fire gave it a nice smoky flavor. As good as it was we were never truly able to enjoy it, our minds still racing from the river incident.

             
After the fish were picked cleaned, we threw the bones for Nova to finish. Sparks slowly rose from the fire and faded into the night sky amongst the endless sea of sparkling stars. Pulling my pipe from my pocket I began to puff at it eagerly, trying to calm my nerves.

             
Mia did not hesitate to crawl into my arms and indulge herself with some of the sweet herb. She had become quite the pot-head over the last couple of months, but I believe it is all for the best. It is quite literally natures medicine, better thank the chemicals doctors use to pump into children as so called therapy.

             
Neither of us spoke the rest of the night, she simply laid her head on my shoulder as I held her close and we stared at the fire. Slowly I stroked her hair, both to comfort her as well as myself. Her hair was soft and silky except for the occasional twig tangled up in the strands, which I pulled out and flicked into the fire.

             
It must have been close to midnight, Mia had fallen asleep on my shoulders, and a strange noise drifted out of the forest. I listened intently, trying to ignore the crackling of the fire and the trickling of the brook as I focused on the sound. It was almost as if music was faintly surrounding us from the darkness. It was hard to make out, but it reminded me of old jazz music my grandparents use to listen to on their record player. I thought I was imagining it until Nova raised her head with ears perked, she heard it too, but she too could not pinpoint its location.

             
“What is that?” My heart stopped for moment as Mia raised her head and spoke in her meek voice. I gently began to stroke her hair again before responding.                “Nothing to worry about,” I said, “It's only Mountain Angels.” It sounded better than ghosts, she had been scared enough.

             
We woke the next morning still in the chair by the fire, and neck throbbed and ached from my awkward position. All morning and the rest of the day Mia never once mentioned the music we had heard the night before. In some odd way she seemed completely content with it, as if she actually believed it was angels looking over us.