When All is Lost

Chapter 18

Kicking off my shoes, I shucked my pants down my legs, but the process was painfully slow. The snow that had melted into them was still partially frozen and pulling them down my legs was like peeling off a layer of skin. My flesh underneath was a bright, blotchy red. I sighed in relief.

No frostbite.

I knew only a little about frostbite, but I did know that as long as the skin wasn't white and hard, I was still okay. I took a moment to check the rest of my body. My ears, fingers, and toes were also a deep red and felt swollen, but they had been better protected. I quickly changed my outfit and tried not to overthink it. I left my soiled clothing in the small trash bin by the sink, not caring if I'd regret the loss of them later.

With my palms on my ears, I made a move to leave the bathroom when a glimmer of sunshine danced across my eyes. I moved my head again to see a glint of light reflecting off of something on the windowsill. I stepped closer with mild curiosity and stilled.

The window was nailed shut.

My mind was blank, but my hackles raised. I wanted my gun. I left the bathroom with a smile painted on my face and found the couple in a cozy-looking family room just down the hall. They had been exchanging hushed whispers but stopped as I entered.

"Thank you for letting me change," I said, testing the waters and wanting to keep things cordial.

"Of course." Paula returned my smile, but I could now clearly see the strained edge to it. "Sit down and join us." She gestured towards a lazy-boy chair to the side of the couch they occupied. I moved to it with sure steps and sat down, immediately sinking into the plush fabric. She passed me a woolen blanket that I draped across my lap before settling my backpack on top of it.

"Are you hungry?"

The question caught me off guard. They looked and sounded nice, but I could fathom what situation I had entered. "I'm fine," I said despite my gnawing hunger. I still had a couple of cans of food left for when I couldn't take any longer.

Paula's expression tightened and Carlos patted her knee. "We're going to split a can of tomatoes, you're welcome to have some if you'd like.

I felt my eyebrows shoot upwards. That was not what I was expecting. "Uh, sure then. Thanks."

Carlos stood and left the room and I had an immediate urge to follow him along with pangs of regret. My exhaustion was fogging my mind and I wasn't thinking clearly when I'd agreed. I'd simply been too surprised.

What if they put something in my food?

I squeezed my backpack on my lap and felt the pins and needles in my legs as they finally had a slight chance to warm up. I wanted to move, but my gun on Paula's lap kept me still.

When Carlos reemerged, it was with a stack of bowls and three spoons that he placed on the coffee table between us. He left again and repeated the process two more times, carrying out a glass pitcher of water and cups and then a large, sealed tin can and opener.

He laid his rifle down as he opened the can in front of me. "Paula's got quite the green thumb, you see." He divvied out the contents of the can between the three bowls. "She grew the tomatoes herself. We had so many we couldn't give them away fast enough. She took up canning then. What was that two summers ago?"

"Three."

I glanced at Paula to see her flushed with pride, her loving gave fixed on her husband.

"Right. Three," he continued. "Anyways, you should see her garden. Come spring, that little plot of land you almost trampled over grows some of the best radishes you'll ever taste." He picked up a bowl and took a bite of the mushy tomato bits.