ROMANOGERS: PAST TO PRESENT

Chapter Forty Two

Natasha's POV

I was out in the woods yet again. Performing the painstaking process of dragging Steve and the supplies to my old room. Hopefully from there I could go further into the woods where the greenery was starting to get thicker and discover something to eat. My stomach was a constant reminder that I was slowly fading. My vision swam periodically and it was getting increasingly harder to swallow. My throat was sand paper, my legs were liquid, my lungs were raw from ash, my wounds throbbed probably from infection. Each step was a struggle and my knees threatened to give out on me. I had been walking since dawn and it couldn't be long until I reached my destination, at least I hoped so. I had taken the liberty, earlier today, to melt some snow in Steve's shield, and investigate the remains of the facility. I had found an object that worked sort of like a canister ,and after scrubbing it with a ripped off piece of sheet and water, I was now able to transport a small quantity of water.

Gasping I paused and slumped against a tree. Pulling out the canister from the napsack I had made from the sheets I eyed it thoughtfully. Popping the make shift cap I peeked inside to see how much water was left. There wasn't much, barely enough for one drink. I was about to down it when my gaze fell on Steve. He had yet to move an inch, the only reminder that he was alive was the very slight rise and fall of his chest, but most importantly his faint heartbeat. Pausing I knelt next to him and opened his mouth. With a little help from me the rest of our water dissapeared. Sighing I tucked the canister away and began the journey again. Eventually the clearing appeared and I heaved Steve and the supplies to my old room. It was strange to bring him here. This had always held only one person, me. As soon as he was tucked safely away inside, I left, carrying the napsack, metal rod, the hand gun, and a few other small items. I needed to find food and fast.

Picking a direction that lead away from camp I began weaving through the woods yet again. The surrounding area slowly faded to green the further I went. There was still a thick layer of snow that had covered the ground the previous night but you could see definitive signs of life. I imagined that before I had woken up after the explosion, the snow had dissapeared, until a blizzard rolled in and covered me and Steve. Flies buzzed about my head and tried to land in my wounds, on multiple occasions I felt the painful sting of their bites. With my stomach snarling I pressed on scouring the ground for tracks, I finally found some when I came across a particularly snowy expanse of ground. There were prints sunken in the soft powder that were easy to see. They appeared to be rabbit tracks belonging to a medium sized winter hare. My stomach whimpered in agreement. Needing to be more careful I crouched and began my pursuit of the animal.

After many agonizing minutes I stumbled across the rabbit as it nibbled some grass sticking up from the snow. It was unsuspecting, it's nose snuffling the ground, completely innocent. Sighing I raised the gun and was about to fire when something in me cringed. Closing my eyes I pressed the trigger and the gun crackled. The sound was loud and reverberated painfully in my skull. It was all to familiar, bringing unwelcome thoughts drifting into focus. Running through the facility halls with bullets ricochetting around me. James collapsing to the ground in a pool of his own blood. The first man I ever killed, a bullet plugged into his brain. The reactor room and the roar of thunder from the guns. Shaking I hastily dropped the weapon to the ground. Just looking at it made my gut squirm and the thought of picking it up again was almost unbearable. Looking quickly away I walked towards the killed rabbit. Picking it up I did what I always did after I hunted an animal.

"Thank you for your sacrifice. May your life be honored, and your spirit blessed." It was simple, and something I had picked up from Clint. He told me to always respect the life of your kill. Unlike humans animals were innocent, without dirt on their records, without foul play. Tucking the rabbit away in the napsack I headed back down the path to where the gun rested. Gingerly picking it up I tucked it away as well. I could still hear the sound of the bullet leaving the chamber, the feel of the gun and it's back lash. Trudging back the way I had come my vision blacked for a brief moment before coming back albeit blurry. Stumbling I slammed hard into a tree trunk and struggled to keep my legs under me. With a small whimper I walked on. Somewhere along the way I finished the journey, everything seemed to have happened quickly, all of it was a blur in my head. That was bad, I was starting to become disoriented. Having finally arrived back at camp I tossed aside the bag. My motor skills were becoming more difficult to control and my ability to think clearly was slowly slipping.