More than Survival: A Post-apocalyptic Love Story (2 page)

BOOK: More than Survival: A Post-apocalyptic Love Story
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It wasn’t until the light had gotten so low I could barely read the words on the page in front of me that I realized the day was almost gone. I moved closer to the fire as it got darker, and when I was so close that I’d started to sweat, I finally looked up. The sun had set completely, but Uncle Seamus wasn’t back.

It wasn’t unusual for him to get back after dark, but still a tingling had started in the pit of my stomach. I wasn’t really a worrier, so I couldn’t figure out why my uncle’s lateness bothered me. I just knew it did.

The more time that passed, the more uneasy I became. We’d discussed what I was to do if Uncle Seamus didn’t come home one day, but I’d never really taken him seriously. He didn’t go into town unarmed. Guns were a part of everyday life, and he’d spent hours teaching me everything he knew about self-defense. He was a friendly man who seemed to get along with everyone, and I never really thought he was in danger from other people, but I guess I’d been naïve. Then there were wild animals. A run-in with a bear or wild cat was always a possibility, and no matter how skilled a hunter my uncle was, accidents happened.

Time passed and I grew groggy. I changed into my nighttime clothes and sat in front of the fire with the blanket wrapped around me, unwilling to allow myself to fall asleep. The fire crackled, breaking through the silence, and my eyelids grew heavy. Soon, I was struggling to keep them open, but the thought of falling asleep when I was all alone in the cabin scared me. I was certain if I did fall asleep, someone out there would sense my vulnerability and break in. My virtue was in serious danger.

 

woke with a start, almost falling out of the chair. The fire had dwindled to practically nothing and I knew it needed my attention, but I couldn’t make myself move. Uncle Seamus hadn’t returned. If he had, I would be in my bed, not curled up in the uncomfortable chair.

I was alone, and the thought terrified me so much I felt frozen in place.

After several minutes, I managed to force myself to my feet. It wasn’t time to panic yet. Seamus could have gotten held up. Maybe the storm I’d worried about had hit and he’d had to take cover for the night. He could still come back. And when he did, I didn’t want him to think I’d spent the whole day cowering in fear. I needed to keep it together.

First, I built the fire back up, then got dressed. Then I busied myself by moving the laundry around, making sure to move the pieces that were still wet closer to the fire, while the ones that had dried got folded and put away. My stomach was growling, so I grabbed some jars of vegetables and got busy making stew. It’d be a nice surprise for my uncle when he got home, especially if the weather had been bad. He’d be cold.

By afternoon, I’d managed to get all my main chores done, so I went out back to the shed to feed the animals. Seamus usually did it, but since he hadn’t come home it was up to me.

A light snow had started to fall, covering the forest around me in a thin blanket. Our cabin was secluded, high up in the mountains where there had been little to no civilization before the virus wiped everything out. Uncle Seamus had always lived here alone, coming to our house only on holidays or special occasions. The nearest settlement was a good four hours away on horseback, and a bit longer coming back since it was an uphill climb. As far as I knew, there was no one else living within ten miles of us.

The rabbits scurried around in their pen when I stepped into the shed, and Nelly let out a loud neigh that seemed to shake the tiny building. We were fortunate to have any animals at all, but we were hoping to be able to get a few pigs come spring. Maybe a goat so we didn’t have to trade for milk, although that would be expensive and something my soap couldn’t buy.

Once the rabbits were fed, I stopped in front of the horse and patted the animal on the head. She blew air out of her nose like she was angry, and I sighed.

“I know you miss Max, but I’m sure Uncle Seamus will bring him back safely. He’d never let anything happen to Max.”

Nelly snorted again, and my stomach dropped.

Why did it feel like she knew something I didn’t?

I went back inside and tried to read my book, but I couldn’t focus. The words swirled around on the page, jumbling together until nothing made sense. I had to read one paragraph three times before I finally gave up. Until Seamus was back, I would never be able to focus.

But he didn’t come back. The sun set and I ate a bowl of stew by myself, dunking my bread in it while I stared out the window. It tasted like dirt and my stomach gurgled like it was angry to have the company. I needed to eat, but I was also afraid I’d throw up if I forced too much down. I put the bowl aside when it was still half full.

Night passed and morning came, and still Seamus didn’t return. On my second day alone, I did nothing but sit by the fire in my sleep clothes, listening to the quiet emptiness of the house as more snow fell outside. I’d never felt so alone in my life, and I’d watched both my parents die in a matter of weeks. But this was different. This was me realizing for the first time that I didn’t have anyone, and it scared me so much I could barely breathe. I knew Seamus wasn’t coming back, but I didn’t know how to deal with it. All the carefully thought-out plans he’d made seemed stupid now. Pointless. I was certain the first time I set foot out of this cabin I’d be taken by some man, intent on robbing me of the only thing I had left. My virtue.

I wasn’t ready to be ruined like that.

Days passed, then weeks, and I fell into a routine that almost felt normal. Winter swept in, dumping a foot of snow on the cabin in a matter of hours. Adding to my workload. It kept me busy, though. Kept my mind off all the things I didn’t want to think about. Like what I’d do when I ran out of supplies. I knew when spring came I’d have no choice but to go to town on my own so I could trade, and just thinking about it scared me. Seamus had left a map and specific instructions about who to deal with and how to act. And what to wear. That was the part that scared me the most.

Any free time I had was spent curled up in front of the fire, rereading the books Seamus had brought me over the years. I had everything from classics to crime novels to stories about vampires that sparkled in the sun, but the romances were my favorite. Stories of men sweeping women off their feet, saving them from fates worse than death. When I read those I could almost pretend the same fate would befall me. That one day I’d wake up to find a big, strong man in the cabin. That he’d protect me and take the burden off my shoulders. That I’d be able to have a normal life.

Deep down, I didn’t really believe it.

Seamus had taught me to hunt, and four weeks after he’d disappeared I decided it was something I needed to do if I wanted to keep food in my stomach. We had the rabbits, but we killed them sparingly in the winter. The animals bred fast in summer, but winter not as much, and even though I had close to a dozen of them they wouldn’t last me all winter long. The snow was thick, but not too bad yet. The deeper we got into winter the worse it would get, so saving the rabbits for later was wise.

I bundled up, putting on two layers of wool socks and a couple shirts before pulling my wool sweater on. I wore three layers on my legs, making my steps feel stiff and lazy, but it would keep me warm. When I went out to hunt, it could be hours before I even came across an animal. The coat I put on was too big, making it possible to button it over my bulky clothes, and the hat and scarf were both things I had knitted for Seamus the previous Christmas. The last thing I put on before I stepped out into the cold winter day was a pair of thick gloves. Once they were on, I was ready to go.

My small bow was clutched tightly in my gloved hand as I pushed my way through the snow. I didn’t wander too far from the cabin before coming to the rocky area I usually rested on to hunt. This is where I’d sat for hours next to Seamus at the age of eleven, waiting for an animal to come by. He’d spent weeks teaching me to shoot the bow before allowing me to go out with him to hunt, and I’d been thrilled to finally tag along. The long day had been more boring than I’d expected though, and I’d just started to nod off when a deer stepped into the clearing only ten feet away. Seamus stiffened ever so slightly at my side, and I inhaled a slow, deep breath as I raised my bow. I worked hard to remember everything he’d taught me so I didn’t scare it away as I took aim. When I released the arrow, it pierced the deer exactly where I’d wanted it to, and I knew I’d gotten the animal in the heart. The thing jumped and took off running, but the smile on Seamus’s face told me I’d done well. We only had to track it for about ten minutes before coming across the animal’s dead body. The stew that week had been the best I’d ever had. Plus, Seamus had been able to make quite a bit of deer jerky. Something that was essential during the hard winter months.

Sitting on the rock by myself with the snow falling around me, I did my best to stay focused and not think of my uncle. Missing him would only distract me and make the time drag on.

I got lucky, and after only thirty minutes a large rabbit hopped into view. They were harder to hit with my bow, but easier for me to carry back on my own and skin. I was used to eating rabbit, even if venison was better, and making the kill would be fast and easy for me.

Just like the first time I went out with Seamus, I managed to kill the animal without much effort. The snow picked up as I skinned and cleaned him, and by the time I had trudged back to the cabin it was so thick I could hardly see.

I woke up the next morning feeling colder than usual, and when I managed to stumble out into the living room I saw why. The fire was nothing more than a few glowing coals. I’d gone to bed early the night before, exhausted by the long day of hunting and preparing stew, and I must have forgotten to tend to the fire.

I went to the back of the cabin where we kept the wood to dry, but there were only two small logs. The rest was outside in the snow and most likely so wet it would take all day to dry out. How had I been so stupid? Why hadn’t I noticed how low the wood pile had gotten yesterday?

I threw one of the two logs onto the fire, then hurried to get dressed. My stomach growled angrily, but food wasn’t a priority. If I didn’t get more wood dried out there would be no fire, then I’d freeze to death. It had snowed all night and I had no doubt that at least another foot had been dumped on top of the cabin while I slept. 

The snow came up to my knees when I stumbled out into it. Uncle Seamus kept wood next to the shed, but I knew it was running low. Getting as much inside the house as possible would be my first priority, then I’d have to find more. The snow was deep, but it was still falling steadily.

BOOK: More than Survival: A Post-apocalyptic Love Story
10.03Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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