Sin: A Survival Romance Fiction (Her Story Trilogy Book 1)

by Kensley Hatch

  “We’ll camp there.” He stated, making his way down the slope with the sled in front of him.

  Tania patted Michael’s back and then followed Bridger’s tracks. It was common knowledge in the family that Michael had a fear of heights.

  “We’ll put the tent far away and our fire at the edge.” Summer tried to reassure him.

  “Great. So we’ll get burned in our sleep before falling to our deaths.” Michael mumbled, before putting the sled in front of him to mimic Bridger’s technique of descent.

  They systematically set up their camp with Bridger putting up the tents, Tania pounding with a rock to secure the tent stakes, and Michael and Summer starting the fire and dinner. They finished a little sooner than expected, and Summer broke off a branch from a nearby tree lighting the top of it on fire.

  The men in the other group were still arranging their own tents, but Stephanie and the younger looking Mary were struggling to get their lighters to catch onto the kindle. Summer put her hand over the flaming branch to protect it from the wind, but Bridger quickly grabbed her wrist.

  “Don’t help them.” He commanded. “They need to do things for themselves.”

  Summer irritably shook her arm from his hold but acceded and returned the branch back to the fire. Bridger took it upon himself to carry a portion of their jerky down to them in exchange for three cans of boiled potatoes and one can of cream. After they had prepared their dinner, Summer’s family and Bridger were sitting on the ground around the fire with bowls in hand. Tania looked longingly at Julian’s campsite and then at Meline imploringly. Meline’s face softened, but Summer nodded her head in disapproval.

  “Not tonight.” She inserted, when Meline looked to her.

  Tania stood up and walked over to their own tent. She forcefully unzipped the opening and disappeared into the dark interior.

  The sounds from the trees made it feel like the mountain was alive with nighttime activity and Summer could not help but continually check behind her at the silhouettes of twisted aspens and the mysterious hiding places that the pines provided. Bridger watched her in amusement, but once she realized the entertainment she was offering him, she too decided to retire to the tent.

  The next couple of weeks seemed to all blur together as if they were a piece of film that played and then rewound only to show the same scenes again. Breaking camp. Hiking for miles on end. Stopping for food. More hiking. Finding a place for the night. Sleep. Repeat. It was exhausting, and yet it made Summer restless all at the same time. The mundane existence of trying to survive through routine and endurance as the combatants to the hopelessness of winter, was wearing on them all. Sometimes, she would catch sight of their friend, the fox, but even he had ceased to appear with their ongoing travel. The extra food it scavenged from Tania was probably not enough to outweigh the effort needed to keep up with them. There were days when waking up felt like a death sentence and staying in the relative warmth of the tent seemed like a far better option than spending another day pushing through the snow and whipping wind.

  Additionally, the days were always harder when they were followed by those certain nights that Summer tried to block out completely. She hated when Bridger got close to her and managed to whisper the announcement of his desires for that night. She wanted to slap him across the face, yet it always ended in her submission and hidden trips to his tent once it got dark. Sometimes, she would leave with bruises from his less than gentle ways, but he seemed to calculate his strikes so that she was able to hide them with her long winter clothes.

  However, another side of their trek made Summer sleepless at night and pressured her brain to wake up long before the sun’s time to rise. Time was her constant enemy as the tediousness of most of her daily tasks tried to strip away at her stamina. Nevertheless, she also had an ambivalent desire to make time stand still to stop the dread that was growing as she felt its grains slip slowly through her fingers. She needed time to help her find The Caravan, and each day that sank away meant one more day that they had gone without any hints of hope to confirm its proximity or even its existence.

  She wasn’t sure if Bridger didn’t believe in The Caravan as she did, or if he simply didn’t want to find it like she did. His goal was to head towards the border. That was the only thing that she knew of that was propelling him onward. She tried not to think about his motives most of the time for when they became evident; it scared her. She once told the girl named Mary about The Caravan. Mary had politely listened, but when Summer turned away, she saw out of the corner of her eye the giggle that she tried to hide. It was annoying that the usual stoic girl decided at that moment to show her sense of humor.

  Their jerky supply was getting low, and Summer had begun to set traps in the night hoping to catch some smaller game. One day, Michael had spotted a rabbit moving in between the trees, and with one smooth whiz, Bridger’s arrow had pierced its back. In a rare moment of convenience, they only made one fire, and the two groups stood together, waiting for the rabbit to roast.

  “You said your dad was a hunter, so why don’t you have any guns?” Michael asked, leaning his back against a tree trunk next to where Julian was standing.

  “Guns aren’t really useful without ammo,” Julian replied, turning his head towards Michael. “We had plenty of guns in the cabin, and we originally carried them with us, but once our ammo ran out it was very noticeable how heavy guns are, and I’d rather carry food than metal.” He unzipped his backpack and handed a dried piece of fruit leather to Michael. Michael took it gratefully and tore a piece off with his teeth.

  Phil, the man who had been with the women from the cult, was standing farther away with Bridger, talking amongst themselves in too low of tones for the others to hear. Summer had noticed they had begun to interact with each other more over the past couple of days, but she didn’t care to learn what they were discussing. The one time she had overheard them, it had been to hear their chuckles over a juvenile dirty joke. Though the Marys and Stephanie were not fond of talking, they seemed less fond of Phil. Summer decided to press them for more information about him, and the younger Mary started to say something about their time in the cult. Of course, they didn’t call it a cult but referred to it as “The Union,” yet the younger Mary spoke of it with resentment in her voice.

  “He was one of the headmasters.” She said with a slight revulsion. “That meant that he was in charge of—”

  “Mary!” The older one snapped sharply. “You made a vow not to talk of such things.” She reminded her in a low, reprimanding voice. The younger girl looked to the ground and refused to say anymore.

  Meline and Summer exchanged skeptical looks at the strange secrecy, and Julian uncomfortably shifted his weight against the tree he was leaning on. Though she didn’t get far in whatever she was going to say about Phil, Summer had her own reasons for not liking him. He never offered to help with anything, and he seemed far too comfortable watching everyone else work while he stayed away during mealtimes. In addition, his newly developed chumminess with Bridger had boosted Bridger’s ego, making him more demanding and stubborn.

  The rabbit had finished cooking and was quickly devoured, though the small animal left everyone only half satisfied. Afterwards, they had only traveled for an hour when Bridger threw his backpack off his shoulders in frustration.

  “Set up camp here.” They were near the bottom of a slope they had just descended.

  “We still have at least two more hours before sunset.” Summer objected to the sudden stop.

  “Well, I can’t take this anymore. A man can only live off of canned beans for so long.” He undid the sled’s rope that he had wrapped around his shoulders. “Phil and I will go for a hunt. He said he saw tracks of some deer yesterday.”

  “We’re going to go back to where we were yesterday?” Mccarthy asked, still trying to catch his breath from hiking.

  “We’ll have to bring s
ome extra food if we’re going to hunt that far away from the camp.” Summer said, checking the axes in her holster.

  “True, but you’re not coming with us,” Bridger said.

  Summer blinked.

  “Yes, I am.” She replied defensively. “You need me.”

  “I think we’ll be just fine.” Bridger returned, folding his arms. “It’ll really just be a two-man job, and Phil says he knows how to hunt without scaring off the animals.”

  Summer understood the dig referring to her last slip up with the deer, but her eyes were unflinching.

  “I’m going with you.” She insisted.

  “No.” Bridger began dividing some of the canned goods onto the extra sled. “You’ll stay here and guard the camp. Besides,” He added with almost a smirk. “Maybe you’ll catch something with one of your traps.”

  Phil said nothing throughout this exchange, but Summer could sense his smugness, which only infuriated her more as she could tell by Bridger’s tone that he wasn’t going to change his mind.

  She glared at Bridger, but then motioned for Tania to follow her.

  “We need wood for the fire.”

  Phil and Bridger took more cans of food and one of the tents that was bundled in a backpack.

  “When will you be back?” Mccarthy asked, approaching them.

  “Whenever we catch something,” Bridger replied, hoisting his backpack back onto his shoulders.

  The rest of the group watched as they started back up the mountain’s ascent until they had gone over the top and disappeared from view.

  Chapter 12

  “We’ll probably only have enough firewood for one fire tonight,” Michael said as if it was a pity, but he winked at Julian as he said it.

  He and Meline took out the tent that their family shared and began to put it up. Mccarthy and Julian started unpacking the tents for themselves and the women, while the Marys and Stephanie cleared a circle of snow for the fire.

  When Summer and Tania returned with armfuls of wood from a small tree that Summer had chopped down, the campsite was organized. There was a ring of rocks guarding the place that had been cleared with tents on either side. Meline was sitting with the other women opening cans of soup, while Michael had a captive audience in the persons of Julian and Mccarthy as he demonstrated how he flung rocks from his sling. Tania sped past Summer and dumped her share of the wood into the circle of stones so that she too could join in the demonstration.

  Summer slowed for a moment seeing the groups merged together for the first time in camp and she was tempted to say something. Then, she saw her mom toss her head back and laugh like the way she used to—back before The Invasion, or even before her sickness. It was then that Summer decided Bridger’s rules would only apply when Bridger was present. She set her pile of wood next to the designated spot and arranged Tania’s wood into a pyramid. Next, she got some kindling, which consisted of cotton she had saved in a bag, and placed it in the bottom of the wooden structure. Michael was not too far off, and his voice was both serious and excited as he picked up a rock from the ground.

  “The trick of it all is in the flick of your wrist.” He explained, placing the rock in his sling.

  He signaled for his onlookers to stand back as he raised his arm above his head and started swinging the sling in large rotations that became faster and faster. Julian and Tania were intent on watching his wrist, while Mccarthy took a couple of steps further backward to ensure his safety. Summer had gotten out the flint and steel and began striking above the cotton. The kindling caught flame right as Michael released the stone, and a spray of bark erupted from a tree that he had targeted about twenty feet from him.

  His group of fans cheered, and Julian insisted that Michael show him how to do it. Michael gleefully picked up another rock and began his instruction once more, but with Julian holding the sling this time. A few minutes later there was another take off as Julian launched his rock, though his attempt landed to the ground with a thud and no connected mark. Tania demanded a turn and took the sling clumsily from Julian. Julian stood behind her and took her through the process of explanation that Michael had just told him. Summer smiled to herself as she saw Tania listen carefully until he had finished. Then, to his surprise, she expertly swung the sling above her and hit a tree that was several yards further than Michael’s target. Tania shrugged nonchalantly at Julian’s look of astonishment, but Michael quickly interjected.

  “I’ve taught her this before.” He revealed as Tania sheepishly giggled at being caught.

  “Good.” Julian pretended to wipe his forehead. “I was starting to feel inadequate.”

  “No, you did great for your first time,” Michael reassured him. Tania raced to fetch the two rocks that they had thrown to give him some more chances.

  Mccarthy patted Michael on the back proudly and walked over to where Summer was crouched. The flames were consuming the teepee of wood by now, and Mccarthy placed a stand over the fire where they could hang their pot of lentil soup. Meline brought the pot they had been filling and handed it to Mccarthy. Once it was over the fire, they both sat down near the warmth.

  “Do you miss teaching?” Summer asked, noticing the dark rings around Mccarthy’s eyes.

  “Of course.” Mccarthy’s voice was wistful. “But that seems like a different life completely. Back in the days where degrees mattered, and institutions represented the hallmark of achievement. Now it feels like we have gone back to what John Locke spoke of when he discussed the origins of property.”

  “Nature’s state.” Summer mumbled, acknowledging the reference from her days at the university.

  “Exactly.” Mccarthy pointed at her with a teacher’s eagerness. “Society has crumbled and the hundreds of years of history that we were building on seems to have disappeared without a proper goodbye. That’s the strange thing about destruction.” He said, now staring into the fire. “It can take away in an instant what creation took decades or even centuries to form.”

  He paused, and Summer added another log to the fire that was quickly eating up the first supply of wood.

  “I think that’s the attraction to destruction.” He said after some time.

  “Of course, the men on top have their political motives for what they do that are always tied up in enormous amounts of money and power. Yet, the people who actually do the work for them, the ones who carry out commands that wipe out nations, they are the ones who have to develop the morality of destruction. Either, they mask their own fear by obeying orders and never questioning authority, or they evolve into their role. They learn to enjoy inflicting pain. They feel powerful when they watch the immediate effects of violence as opposed to the slow results of creative production. If you can make someone bleed, you can control that person, and that feels good.”

  Meline began to cough, and Mccarthy’s dark mood of analysis shifted as he refocused his attention to the boiling soup.

  “That’s all just talk,” he said reassuringly, taking up a spoon and stirring the liquid in the pot. “The biggest problem I have is that I have prepared my whole life for one kind of system while the world has suddenly shaped into another. I’m afraid being a well-fed older gentleman such as myself is no longer an advantageous spot in the hierarchy of life.” He did his customary belly rub and laughed at his self-deprecation.

  He called the others over, and Summer stood up to get the metal bowls and spoons from near their tent.

  “Let’s pray.” She heard her mother say as she returned. “Will you offer it?” Meline asked, turning to take Summer’s hand.

  Summer hesitated when everyone turned to look at her, but she quietly nodded her head in the negative and placed her hand on Meline’s shoulder. Michael offered to say it instead, and they all bowed their heads as he gave thanks for the food and asked for protection. When Summer opened her eyes, she saw Julian staring at her from across the fi
repit. His icy blue eyes seemed to be able to pierce through her in a way that was both uncomfortable, yet intimate, as if he had to open up to the same level of vulnerability that she felt under his gaze. She looked away and distributed the bowls out to everyone else while Mccarthy held the ladle up for the first helping.

  After dinner, Summer was washing the dishes out with the cleanest patch of snow she could find in the dimming light of dusk, when Julian approached her carrying the empty pot. He crouched beside her and began to fill the pot with snow, which rapidly melted on contact with the metal that still held the heat of the fire. They sat that way for a couple of minutes without acknowledging the presence of the other, yet Summer’s awareness of him was tortuously apparent.

  They had avoided each other since she talked to him about keeping their distance on that early morning that had happened weeks ago. His natural demeanor had won the affection of her younger siblings, but up until tonight, Summer had refused to interact with him because of the anxiety it induced with Bridger being nearby. There was an awkward energy between them since Summer had carefully guarded against any natural communication. Now, it was the point where it felt unnatural to try to take those barriers down.

  “I believe in God.” She finally blurted, remembering his stare from before dinner.

  Julian paused.

  “Is that so?” He asked, casually.

  Summer kicked herself internally and rubbed the tin in her hand harder with her handful of snow.

  “So you’re more spiritual than religious?” Julian asked after a bout of scrubbing.

  “No.” Summer’s answer was sure, but then she sighed. “I mean it’s hard to be religious when everything that constituted organization has been demolished. Is there still a Catholic Church if there’s no longer any popes or churches?”

  Her question was rhetorical.

  “But I was religious before all of this happened and if life magically returned to its former state, I would be again.”