by Nikki Lewen
As soon as her research is complete, she settles into a hot bath. Heating plenty of extra water is a treat usually reserved only for her birthday, and then again at the new year, but knowing an important aspect of survival is keeping a healthy mental state, she decides that a good soak is what she needs. The bath is a tremendous relief to her sore muscles and more importantly, it boosts her morale, which at this point is a huge help. The past couple of days have been taxing, and thinking on what she’s accomplished, she’s amazed. She scrubs, washes her hair, and uses the last of the hot water to rinse.
Out of the tub, she swallows a few aspirins and goes straight to bed for some much-needed sleep. She can’t stay in bed long, but any rest is wonderful. When the little wind-up alarm goes off, it feels like her eyes just shut. Slapping at it while rolling over, she lies still, cherishing a few more moments of comfort. Getting up, she isn’t sure if her body will allow movement.
Her knees, ankles, and hips throb. The muscles in her legs are so sore and stiff that each step feels impossible. She can’t even bend over to put on clean socks without pain. Instead, she eases down into a chair, and slowly lifts each foot. On top of that, her hands are still torn up and ache from dragging that damn stretcher. Besides all the muscle soreness, her stomach feels unsettled and queasy from lack of sleep, and a substantial headache has settled in. She’s a mess, but the thought of him possibly dying, alone in the cave, is a strong incentive to force her forward.
Making some hot tea, she checks the notes and collects everything Caleb will need. She adds a few things for herself and a couple of other luxury items. With everything gathered, she sets about making a large breakfast. With a full stomach and another tea, she begins packing. Even with the movement from prepping, her body won’t loosen up. It hurts, and the trip back is daunting. She barely made it here and now, she has to repeat the journey while experiencing greater pain, carrying a heavier backpack, and attempting it without enough sleep.
She shouldn’t be thinking so negatively, but she can’t help it. Sitting down for a moment, she wishes for help, but as always, is alone. Contemplating her predicament, she makes a choice. First, she rubs ointment into every sore muscle, then, she re-checks the medical references and goes back through the supplies. Finding what’s needed, she unscrews the lid, and shakes out two pills. After hesitating for a moment, she washes them down with the last of her tea and reluctantly decides to put a few more in her pocket.
It’s still dark, but she goes outside hours before the sun even comes up. She hates using any type of light in fear of being found, but without one, it’s impossible to see. Turning the red light from her headlamp on, she walks at a brisk pace. Within thirty minutes her muscles began to loosen and by an hour into the trek, the pills fully kick in. Feeling great, and full of energy, she quickens her pace. As the sun comes up, she drinks half of her water and takes another dose. A surge of energy courses through her veins.
Before long, she’s back at the rope and attacking the slope with fury, fascinated at the drug’s effects. At the top, she coils the rope, replenishes her body with more food, water, and another round of meds, and then takes off, feeling unstoppable. As the day lengthens, the distance to the cave shortens. Nearing its area, she tries being cautious, but with the amphetamines still coursing through her veins, it’s hard to slow down.
Back inside, she notices that Caleb still hasn’t moved. He looks terrible—extremely pale, and hot to the touch. She fumbles through her bag and unpacks hastily as her heart pounds and her hands shake uncontrollably. She closes her eyes, taking several deep breathes and with each exhale, relaxes. When steadied enough to work, she opens her eyes, reviews her notes, and begins.
Afterward, she knows she should lie down and rest, but the drugs are making her jittery. Instead, she finds herself walking the area’s perimeter. About halfway around, she gets sick and pukes what little food remains in her belly. With it emptied, her stomach continues lurching until there’s nothing but dry heaves. By the time it stops, her sides ache, and the trembling begins. She really did a number on herself, and it takes every ounce of remaining strength to get back to the cave, where she literally crawls the last few yards, barely making it inside before collapsing.
FOUR
Waking full of anxiety and concern, she bolts up. The sudden movement intensifies a throbbing headache as she worries about someone discovering the vomit she left uncovered. With a disgustingly‐dry mouth, she traces a swollen tongue over both her lips and teeth in an attempt to generate some saliva and return some moisture, but the only thing she accomplishes is discovering a horrid taste.
Grabbing a water bottle and gulping a huge amount only ignites the burning sensation at the back of her throat. Feeling utterly miserable, she realizes the punishing pace from the past few days has caught her, and she suffers for it. Sliding open the window panel, reveals that it’s once again daylight. It wasn’t dark yet when she crawled in yesterday, which means she slept for a solid twelve to fourteen hours. With that amount of rest, she should feel refreshed, but that’s not at all what her body is telling her.
After taking another long drink, she eases over to Caleb. He doesn’t feel as hot and some of the color has returned to his face—indicating the IV and meds she administered seem to be helping—but there are still signs of fever. After switching the empty drip bag out to start a second, she moves to cleaning his bandages and checking the stitches. Caleb’s wound doesn’t smell bad and the tissue shows indications of healing, so she re-bandages it and then gives him another dose of penicillin. A few rounds of antibiotics, over the next couple of days, should eliminate any infection and ensure his recovery. At least, that’s her hope.
What look worse are his ribs. Her struggle with getting Caleb over the log and then into the cave might have caused more damage. Dropping him, and then trying to escape from under his weight, probably hadn’t helped either. Using her fingers to palpate the area, she still doesn’t detect any fractures, but knows that doesn’t mean the bones aren’t damaged. Since there isn’t anything that can be done for them, she settles on re-wrapping the area and hoping for the best. He needs time to heal.
With Caleb all squared away, her focus turns inward. In sorry shape, she drinks more water, eats, and then exits the security of the shelter to cover the evidence of last night’s purge, making sure no one found it and is now looking about for who left it. Still jittery and unable to keep track of all the aching body parts, she finds her every movement takes too much effort. Fatigued, sore, hurt, and a little sick, what she really needs is a long, restful recovery day. As she approaches the spot where she puked, terror takes over. Her vomit’s gone—and it’s the right place because she can tell where the ground’s been disturbed.
Shifting into combat mode, she loads the crossbow and tucks behind a tree scanning for any movement. The only sounds come from a light breeze moving through the canopy. Gradually slipping from tree to tree while keeping cover, she checks the perimeter. Even though all seems normal, she watches and listens for hours. Eventually, she grows too miserable to stay out. At this point, even though she’s troubled about the missing puke, it’s rest she needs. She heads inside, sits intently for a bit longer, and then allows sleep to take hold.
Throughout the night, she wakes repeatedly, worried that the Splitters are nearby. Each time, she sips a little water then tries relaxing enough to fall back to sleep. Hours before sunrise, and finding sleep futile, she gets up. Her body still hurts everywhere, but at least her headache’s gone, and she’s starting to feel a little better. The missing vomit still isn’t sitting well with her, and her fear of discovery continues to grow. Needing to confirm they’re still safe, she waits for the approaching day then goes out to patrol.
The hunter and survivalist in her take over and she moves like a creature of the forest. Picking a place to hide that offers a view of where the puke was, she settles in. Just before the sun fully rises, she detects a movement among the foliage and it kicks
in her instincts. Her ears strain and eyes focus. She zeros in on the sound, while maintaining peripheral vision, making sure no one sneaks up from a different direction. It’s getting lighter and easier to see, but nothing’s in sight. Maintaining her position and continuing to listen, her senses sharpen.
Detecting the sound of steps, when they stop, and then creep forward, she prepares for more Splitters, as they get closer. From the noise, it sounds like only one person. Seeing the two dead bodies a few days ago, shook her deeply and at some point she knew there’d be more. It was just a matter of time. With an arrow loaded, and prepared to stop any threat, she aims in the direction of the disturbance, and waits for a visual of the target.
Even though she’s been in similar situations before, an uneasy feeling takes over. She calms herself by breathing deeply and tries to block past images clouding her mind. The noise intensifies, but to her relief, a small raccoon appears. She should have known it was an animal, or at least thought it a possibility. It makes complete sense, as it sniffs around the area looking for anything else to scavenge. She’s gotten all worked-up and allowed fear to take hold. Disgusted by her lack of judgment, the disappointment in herself quickly fades to amusement as she watches the little coon.
It’s young and not quite full-grown—a good sign, she believes. It’s been a long time since she’s seen a raccoon and the discovery of this little one means there must be others. She cherishes the sight, while weighing her options. As the raccoon pauses, she re-raises her weapon, taking aim. It’s simply survival, but with it sitting in her crosshairs, she lowers the bow. Even though she’s an expert hunter and killing for food whenever the chance arises is a necessity, today she can’t do it. The fresh meat, although tempting, just doesn’t feel right at the moment. She watches until it wanders off, and slowly, she returns to the cave.
Checking Caleb once again, and seeing that he’s okay, she decides to take a full day of recovery. She curls up in a blanket and pulls out a book from one of the shelves. Reading’s an enjoyable pastime that takes her mind off of troubling fears. She naps a little as the morning turns to afternoon, and with evening approaching, she’s out once more checking the perimeter. She always patrols; it gives her peace of mind and allows her to gather the resources needed to stay alive. These mountains are full of food, if you know how—and where—to look.
Out foraging, a noticeable difference fills the air. The temperature drops, and at first, the moisture’s barely detectable. She starts back to the cave as it turns to a steady rain and then to a heavy downpour. Hurrying inside, she grabs the water collector kits and a stack of buckets kept in the corner. Back outside, she works quickly to adjust the collectors to catch the rain falling between the logs blocking the shelter’s entrance. She switches out the first bucket as soon as it fills and strips down. It’s cold, but she needs a shower, and as she lathers up with haste, the cold rainwater rinse sends a deep chill through her.
Naked but wrapped in a towel, she steps back inside, dries off, and puts on clean clothes and rain gear. Her work continues until all the buckets are filled and returned inside. She also partially fills several collector bags and hangs them from the supports inside. The cave’s a little crowded, but they’re fully stocked. With the wet gear hung, she sits, listening to the rain’s soothing sound that conjures memories of days when rainfall was normal and water was abundant.
For most of her life, water surrounded these parts. The mountains were full of creeks and streams. Every winter, they’d swell with the rains and run-off would flow down the steeper sections, accumulating in drainage arteries, creating seasonal waterfalls. Thinking back to those days, it feels as if it were a lifetime ago. Now, it’s nothing but memories long gone. Saddened by the thoughts of days past, she returns to the present, reminded to be thankful for what’s falling. At least she’s fortunate enough to have water.
This is the second rain in a week, and she hopes it’s helping bring back the world. “Maybe the planet’s beginning to heal,” she thinks. The days, which are growing shorter, indicate that the winter months are near, and maybe with them, the rainy season shall also return. She offers a silent prayer, hoping these two miraculous rains are only a hint at what’s to come. As she continues listening, her mind wanders to Caleb and the two dead Splitters. The images of their dead bodies linger with her as she outlines her next steps before turning in for the night.
The following morning, she starts with a mission. Her body, although definitely still sore, feels ready. She’s still not completely recovered, but at least she feels good enough to get done what’s needed. Getting up and briefly stretching, she starts by checking Caleb over, changing the IV bag, and administering another dose of penicillin. He seems better, but it’s worrisome that he’s yet to wake. Changing the bandage dressings, she systematically examines his body, observing the various stages of healing his bruises and cuts are in. Their colors and appearance provide a timeline of all he’s suffered.
Tracing her fingers along their edges and shapes, she deciphers the clues of what abuses caused such horrific damage. An outline of a shoeprint in one, and possibly a fist impression in another, are visible. Wondering how long he suffered at the hands of the Splitter Nation, her head shakes in disgust as anger rages inside. Unfortunately, she’s no stranger to Splitter brutality, and an onslaught of images surface. Fighting them back, she re-covers Caleb’s torso and refocuses her energy on the day’s agenda.
After a quick, simple breakfast, she prepares the needed supplies, makes sure all is left as intended, and heads out for the day. The outside air helps clear her mind and has a calming effect. Thoughts of the Splitter Nation always produce an unhealthy effect and lately they’ve filled her mind. The forest though, smells refreshing, and hiking among its scents is medicine for her soul. With each step, her body warms and her spirit lifts.
FIVE
Caleb’s first thought is that he’s blind, and trying to find his vision, he blinks several times, but everything remains black. Unable to make anything out in the darkness, it doesn’t help not knowing where he’s at and what’s happened. Lifting a hand to his eyes, Caleb grows even more concerned when something tightens around it. Immediately believing he’s been re-captured, something feels odd about the scenario, but he doesn’t quite comprehend what’s causing the sensation. After another attempt, he finds that his hand isn’t restrained at all and it easily slips out from whatever had bound it. Moving the opposite hand, he feels something hard near it. Fingering the object, his finger happens to hit a button and the LED light clicks on. He can see!
Still confused, but relieved with finding his sight, his mood brightens. He moves attempting to sit-up, but stops abruptly with the intensity of pain. Breathing cautiously, as a mixture of faintness and nausea wash over him, Caleb tries to remain calm. Flashes of what put him in this condition explode across his mind, but the images fail to link together all the events. As his fuzzy memories grow clearer, he uses the small light to scan his surroundings, growing even more disoriented.
Hoping to figure out his location, he tries taking it all in. Buckets surround him, plastic bags with water hang from log supports, and the walls and ceiling are made of stone. Slowly, he moves the light’s beam around in an effort to determine whether he’s in an old mine shaft, or some type of bunker, but his limited range of motion makes it challenging. It isn’t a very big space and from what he can detect, both the back and sides don’t have any outlets.
At his feet, the structure’s material changes, and it’s the only section not made of stone. Its entire length is constructed of wood and the twine he discovered around his hand is attached to what appears to be a door handle. Caleb grabs the string, pulls cautiously, and the door opens a bit. As he pulls harder, it swings the rest of the way, allowing light to penetrate inside and the entire space to be seen. He notices, with surprise, the IV in his arm, the clothes he’s wearing, and the bandages on his body. His beard’s been trimmed, and scratching at his scalp, he’s
also surprised to learn that his hair has been cut. It all adds to the mystery and confirms how discombobulated he is to have not noticed before.
Everything leads him to the same conclusion. Someone brought him to this place, cleaned him and provided medical attention. An image of her walking in the woods flashes across his mind. It’s only a fleeting image, but it’s definitely his last memory. Bleeding in the woods all alone, Caleb knew he was dying and fought to stay conscious. As he felt it slipping away, he’d seen her approach, a picture of beauty, moving among the forest like one of its creatures, appearing suddenly at the hour of his greatest need. Now, he’s unsure whether the vision was real or if his subconscious conjured a comforting image to ease him through what seemed a certain death.
Thinking about it, Caleb knows she’s always been in the back of his mind, even if he never admitted it. Looking around, he wonders if she could have done all this. He slowly scans the various items stocked on the shelves, then seeing the canteen lying near him, reaches for it. Caleb attempts to lift his head further, but an intense pain shoots through his ribs. After it subsides, he tries again and manages to drink some of the water. His stomach rumbles in response and seeing food stored among the shelves, moving to it becomes his focus.
Caleb takes another careful drink and tries to self-assess. His head feels dizzy, his body weak and broken, and even his eyes ache. He tries swiveling around to see the entire shelf behind him, but realizes everything can’t be seen while lying on his back. Straining with exertion, he painfully tries a seated position, but it takes too much effort and his body refuses to respond. After several minutes of recovery, he tries another tactic. Caleb rolls over onto his stomach and slowly gets to his hands and knees. In this position, he crawls slowly to the back wall, and using it for support, raises his torso until he’s balancing on both knees.