The Consequence of Us

Chapter 1 Part 1

March of 2017

Eight months after outbreak.

Jack watched Kit as she pulled the lids off two cans of peaches. Her brow scrunched as juice spilled over the side and onto her hand.

"I hate sticky fingers." She glared at the offending liquid before wiping it off on her jeans.

"Here." She thrust the sticky can in his direction, and then looked up when he didn't grab it. Pretty grey eyes zeroed in on him, temper flashing.

Three months ago he had returned to his childhood home to find it ransacked, his parents gone, and Kit hiding in the panic room. It had been both the worst and best day of his life.

Jack bypassed the can she offered, and grabbed the non-sticky one. He grinned when she scowled at him. That temper was famous for getting her into fights as a kid, and sometimes if he was unlucky, him too.

He gulped down the sliced peaches before standing up to throw the empty can into the surrounding trees. Their daylight was disappearing; they needed to find a suitable area to set up camp.

"Ready to go?"

She nodded and reached for her bug-out bag.

They hiked two more hours before he found a spot where the trees thinned out and his range of vision increased substantially. Kit's shoulders were slumped with exhaustion; the woodsy, hilly terrain was tough for even experienced hikers.

"This place will do."

She sighed in relief and sat down on a fallen log. Wincing, she pulled off her shoe, then sock. On the back of her leg, starting at her heel, was a bloody scrape half the length of her calf muscle.

"What the fuck, Kit. Why didn't you say anything?" Jack kneeled and reached for her foot. It wasn't a serious wound, but it had to have been painful, and yet, she hadn't said a word.

"It didn't really hurt until now." She shrugged unconcerned.

He clenched his teeth, frustrated with her dismissive attitude.

"It will really fucking hurt if it becomes infected. Antibiotics are few and far."

Kit kept her eyes on her heel, but her shoulders came up defensively around her ears, and just like that, his anger cooled.

She was enduring this better than a lot of his combat trained military buddies, she was fearless and so damned relentless, and he was being an asshole.

Jack tugged on her toe until she met his gaze. She looked so defiant he couldn't help but chuckle.

"Don't ignore the pain. It's important to take care of open wounds as soon as possible."

When she didn't answer, he tugged on her toe again and grinned.

A reluctant smile curled her lips, and finally she nodded.

He lifted her heel, cleaned the wound with a swab from his first aid kit, smeared Neosporin over it, and covered it with a long Band-Aid.

He held her foot a second longer before rising to his feet and turning to survey the area. As resources dwindled, hunger drove both humans and infected out of the cities and towns. Even this far away from the highway, in the empty, wooded land of Northwest Georgia, they weren't safe.

He pulled the ridiculous, hipster hammock with its mosquito netting from his bag. The damn thing even had its own rope ladder, so it could be hung higher in the trees. He hated its bright red color and plastic smell, but continued to use it because it provided shelter above grabbing distance.