Snow

Chapter Four

The first five minutes of walking were silent. Turned out, not much had been left downstairs. Still, I'd managed to find a handful of granola bars and canned goods. As we trudged a couple more steps through the snow, I couldn't stand the quiet any longer. "Where are we going?"

"A place I found. I've been staying there for a couple days," he replied, not bothering to look at me.

"A place you found? Like a store?"

"Not exactly."

He didn't explain more, and I didn't ask.

"So, have you always been alone? I mean...since the snow?" My face reddened – that hadn't come out right.

He gave me a sideways glance. "Yes. Isn't that obvious?"

A bit rude, but okay. "So, do you stay around this area?"

He shook his head. "No, I'm nomadic. Just like everyone." He obviously wasn't in the mood to talk.

I guess making friends wasn't on his apocalypse bucket list.

After another couple minutes, Asten commented, "We're almost there."

I prayed that his "place" would be a bit better than the ones I'd been finding lately. While abandoned grocery stores were fun, they were creepy. I also had to constantly worry about getting robbed in my sleep.

I checked again to make sure my pack was still at my side. Somehow, it hadn't gotten lost during the fight. I'd re-stocked it in the store, although it didn't hold much. Just my compass, the food I'd found, and a jug of water that I constantly had to refill. I kept my knife in my boot. The pack was pretty worn down from months of travel. I never took it off in fear of losing the only thing keeping me alive.

A couple minutes later, I noticed a blemish in the landscape. At first, it looked like another hill. Once we got closer, I realized it wasn't a hill at all. It was a small metal structure.

It took around five more minutes to reach it. Once we were there, Asten pushed aside the black blanket covering the entrance, meant to keep the wind out. The meager attempt at insulation worked better than it looked. Although it wasn't as warm as some of the stores I'd stayed in, it was decent. The shelter was tiny and nondescript from the outside, inconspicuous enough for people to leave it alone.

Blankets were laid out on the floor while a small fire burned in the center. I wondered how it'd stayed aflame the entire time Asten had been gone.

"Sit wherever," Asten said as he lowered himself onto a blanket close to the fire. He reached behind himself patting at the cut still bleeding on his shoulder. His fingers came away covered in blood. I tried not to stare, but I couldn't help it. He ignored me and turned to a neat pile of supplies in the corner, pulling out a white first aid kit. I didn't say anything as he took out miscellaneous tubes and bandages.

I sat opposite him as he wiped blood from his shoulder using a small towel. Uncomfortably, I shifted, feeling like an intruder.

I barely knew a thing about him.

He hadn't seemed friendly earlier, but now that we were in a safer place, I hoped he'd be a bit more open. "Where are you from...were you from?" I asked, hesitantly.

I was surprised when he actually answered. "New Jersey," he replied. "My mom flew us to a safe house down south when things got bad. We had a place in Mexico. Probably where she was taking us," he explained, as he attempted to clean his own wound. It took him only a couple more attempts at reaching his back before I decided to step in.

I skirted the fire and sat next to him. "Let me help," I offered, holding out my hand to take the towel. He was reluctant at first. But when he saw I meant him no harm, he handed it to me.