The crackle of fire wakes me. The scent I haven't smelled in a long time ignites my nose-burnt wood.
I'm immediately taken back to the one year I spent at summer camp. We watched the stars in the New Mexican desert the whole night while a bonfire crackled behind us. The smell was the same. But this time, it doesn't relax me; it makes my body shake because it registers how much pain I'm in.
After Jacobs and Wellings brought the snake down with almost all their ammo, we set up camp for the night. Yes, right next to the dead snake. This spot isn't the best because, you know, a corpse is rotting next to us, but Wellings and Jacobs apparently couldn't move me. After they shot the snake down, I seized a few more moments before finally blacking out from the pain. My slumped body was too much for anyone to carry-or want to try and move. So, the area (and the chance of a snake dinner) seemed the best place for the group to stay. I was in and out of consciousness for the next few hours, so naturally, I had no say in the final answer.
But when I woke up out of a dead sweat, I was able to mouth down some of the cooked snake, which made me feel like the location was paying for itself-until I threw up moments later from the stench of the corpse wafting through the cold night air.
My brain feels fuzzy. The last few hours feel like a dream. All my mind remembers is the unbearable, bubbling pain I was in as the venom ate away at the flesh inside my body. I spent hours puking up green toxins and stomach acid that made my organs feel like they were turning inside out. Near the fang bite, my skin turned a deep purple and started to die, which made me freak out, and Dally had to calm me down by reminding me that the reanimating serum would generate new skin. I also had a raging fever, and I was shivering at the same time. I constantly switched from hoarding all the shirts and jackets to throwing them off when I was sweaty.
Although, all that misery couldn't prepare me for the pain the puncture wound gave me. The snake's fang went through my entire torso, causing blood and green venom to ooze out of both sides. Every time I moved, it felt like my body was tearing in half. When the pain was at its peak, I remember gripping Dally's hand so hard that his flesh and bones felt like putty. My nails dug straight into the palms of his hands, and I left them sore and bloody after I finally passed out from exhaustion.
It was the most horrible experience I have ever had in my entire life.
Wellings suggested cooking the snake over the fire the one time I was coherent and able to retain information. At first, I was worried that eating an animal mutated by radiation wasn't the best idea, but after Red and Jacobs ate a considerable portion and didn't kill over, I figured that the meat was safe. The first bite into the snake meat made my mouth water, and I had to stop letting the drool fall out of my mouth. It was the best thing I've tasted since I entered the compound. The gamey meat was cooked black, and the charred skin was crispy and chewy in my mouth. Eating something so good when we're all in such a lousy shape almost felt like a sin. But then I threw it all up. The snake tasted better the first time.
I can tell that Paige was terrified by the snake encounter. When I woke up, she tended to my wounds even though the dressings didn't need to change. She had every excuse to touch me. "You're burning up," she would say, touching my forehead. She even asked me if I needed help going to the bathroom. I think something snapped in her when I almost got eaten. But now, I don't know if I want to reciprocate.
While Paige was tending to me, the rest of the group huddled around the fire they made from nearby twigs and a piece of flint that Red had in his bag. The bag he grabbed back at the compound was a survival kit he had ready for leaving the compound and entering the nearby wilderness. He had stuffed a pocket knife, an empty bottle to fill with rainwater, a flare gun, a whistle, some medical gauze, and the flint into a backpack before entering the compound. It worked out in his favor.
However, Paige used all the gauze on my wounds, and they filled with gore in the time it took for Jaime and Kevin to make a sunshade out of some spare shirts and the tall rocks the snake was hiding behind. Dally spent the afternoon looking for a water source since we were all dying from dehydration. I never knew my tongue could feel so dry. I found myself licking the sweat that formed on my upper lip because the saltiness made my mouth feel a little less like it was full of wool. To my dismay, Dally came back empty-handed. The loss felt like a setback. You know the situation is dire when Wellings suggests drinking urine.
When I finished teetering between consciousnesses, the slow descent into the nighttime made my skin crawl. I heard noises I'd never heard before in the distance around our camp. Howls that sounded like they came from an animal that would tower over the average-sized house. Whooping sounds from a pack of coyotes-not just a regular pack. A pack so big that they could overpower the eight of us in mere seconds. The darkness's chill settles into my bones, and I tuck my hands between Paige's legs to keep them warm. With the stabbing pain in my healing wounds and my body in the steady rhythm of shivering, I fall into and out of sleep until dawn feels like it's right around the corner. But when I sit up and rub the heaviness out of my eyes, I realize everyone's still awake.
As I look up to a sky full of blue moonlight and speckled white-hot stars, I feel Paige stir next to me. She notices my movement and smiles at me. "How are you doing?"
"Better," I say. My hands grip the sand beneath me as I position my body against the rock we've cuddled next to.
"Good," she says, her eyes looking darker than usual in the firelight. Her hand moves to my knee and lightly squeezes it before she sits up. "You think you'll be able to walk by morning?"
I look down at the entrance wound just above my left hipbone. It's still a gaping hole. However, it stopped oozing hours ago. The wound hasn't shrunk yet, and I am worried that I won't be able to be mobile in the morning. "Don't know," I say. But before I can say anything else, a sound catches my attention. Through the flames of the fire, I can see that Jaime has her head in her hands and is trying her hardest not to show everyone that she's crying. I can't even imagine what she's going through. Losing a child is probably the worst thing that can happen to someone, and she watched it happen. I saw how Liam's eyes widened the second before he entered its mouth. I saw how the snake's muscles morphed around his body as he slid into its belly. And she saw it, too. She saw her son die. She watched as his little body was eaten alive by a monster. Her mind's broken beyond repair.
Wellings pokes the fire with a stick while Jaime digs her head into Kevin's shoulder. Kevin's eyes are still wet, but his cheeks are tear-free. His arm wraps around his wife lazily, and he stares into the fire with intense eyes. Next to Kevin and Jamie is Jacobs and a snoring Red. Jacobs is cleaning his gun with the hem of his tan military undershirt, allowing his ab muscles to be displayed. My eyes make their way to Paige's face, and she stares at him with this look. It's like she's never seen a man without a shirt on before.
"Quit it." I elbow her as Jaime sucks in another hysterical breath.
Her eyes snap down to her lap. "Is it that obvious?" she says so sheepishly that I barely hear her.
"Yes, and it's embarrassing." I try to make my voice as quiet as possible. "He'll see you staring and wonder if we're planning to kill him behind his back."
"You're ridiculous." She huffs. "I think you're just jealous." I can't tell if she's teasing me because her voice is playful, but her eyes look so heavily into mine that I think she could be serious.
I jump as I hear Dally's laugh. He's lying on the other side of me. I almost forgot he was there. He hasn't said a word since I woke up. "You're jealous," he says, gripping his still bruised rib.
"I am not." Even the chill in the air cannot ease the heat coming onto my cheeks. I clear my throat while keeping my eyes fixated on the ground. I do not want either of them to see my face because they will instantly see that I am lying through my teeth.
But that doesn't fool Paige because she stands up, brushes the sand off her pants, and says, "Okay, so if I talk to him right now, you'd be okay with it?"
"Yes," I say before I can even comprehend the question.
"Okay, then I will." I finally make eye contact with her, and her smile tells me everything: that she is solely going to talk to Jacobs to get at me. I can feel the anger bubble inside of me as I watch her make her way around Red's sleeping body and up to Jacobs. He looks at her through his eyelashes as she bends her mouth to his ear. A smile creeps onto his face when she finally pulls away.
Without a word, Jacobs jumps to his feet. He swings his gun onto his shoulder and quietly follows after Paige, who leads him into the darkened desert.
A laugh comes out of Dally's mouth, taunting me. "They're totally going to hook up."
...
When the sun starts to come up, I'm wide awake. I lie back and watch the smoldering fire as the sky slowly gains back its color. I hear Dally and Paige breathing peacefully as they sleep beside me. I was nice enough to let Dally use my jacket as a pillow. I regret it now since the air is still crisp. I know he's in a lot of pain with his broken rib, and I want to do anything I can to relieve it since he can't heal like I can. Funny enough, Dally isn't the only one using a jacket as a pillow. Paige rests her head on Jacobs' military jacket, her golden hair sprawling out in all different directions.
To distract myself from Paige, I scan the landscape and see Wellings standing on a hill just outside the firelight. With a heavy push, I get myself off the ground. The first few steps made me want to just put myself out of my misery right then. But, with limp after limp, it gets more manageable, and I can join Wellings in watching the sunrise. I notice that he's holding his gun with white knuckles, and his eyes are fixed on the area in front of us.
"Hear something?" I ask as I try to keep myself standing upright.
"Yeah, I have no clue what it was." His face softens as he pulls his attention away from the horizon, but his eyes quickly go to my wounds. "Think you're up for walking today?"
I nod my head. I can't show him that I'm still in pain. He would suggest that we wait for me to heal, and that's a life-or-death decision when no one here has had water in a while. So I give him a quick smile. "I'll be fine."
"How's Dally doing?" Wellings asks, putting the tip of his gun on the ground.
"Someone's still going to have to help him walk."
Wellings nods. "I thought so. He's pretty black and blue. That'll be hurting for a long time."
I don't say anything. My mind wanders back to Paige heading off with Jacobs last night. They were gone for a while, and I have no idea what they did. When Paige got back, all she did was smile at me and lie back down in the sand. Seeing her using Jacobs' jacket made me turn away when I tried to fall asleep. I couldn't look at her.
I guess Wellings senses my struggling mind since he puts a hand on my shoulder. "I wouldn't worry about them." He says, and I squeeze my mouth shut. "I'd worry about the distraught couple."
"Jamie and Kevin? Why?" I ask.
Wellings sighs. "They just lost their child. Your mind makes you do crazy things when grieving."
He's right. I didn't think of that before. Jaime and Kevin must blame Liam's death on someone. Most likely, they blame me. The last thing we need is for them to act out and possibly get someone else killed.
"I'll keep my eyes on them," I reassure him.
The sun breaks over the hill and shines onto our camp. I see Jamie stir as the sun covers her eyes, and Kevin sits up straight while smoothing his brown hair on his head. "We better get moving soon," Wellings says as he eyes Kevin.
I nod my head. "I'm good to walk now."
When everyone wakes up, we eat breakfast (I eat a tomato and half a carrot) and set out north toward the United States. Even though the sun rose an hour ago, it's already smoldering outside. I help Dally across the landscape as much as my sore body will let me. We stop several times for a break or to eat what's left of our food, but we walk until the sun is high in the sky. Wellings says we've been walking for four hours, but it feels more like twelve.
"When are we going to get to the border?" I watch as Paige asks Wellings. Her breath comes out of her mouth in solid puffs. Her tired eyes still look at the ground to ensure she doesn't step on a raised rock or thornbush.
"Soon," he answers, which sounds like a lie. "We should stop again soon, though." He repositions the gun hanging on his shoulder.
Paige nods to agree with him, but when her eyes flick to the horizon, they fixate on something in front of us, and her face lights up. "Look!"
My eyes shoot straight, and I see a group of buildings in the distance. The mirage of the heat from the ground makes the buildings hard to see, but they're there.
"Finally! Civilization!" Jamie says, her throat sounding horse.
It takes us about half an hour to get to the buildings because of Dally and me, but when we do, we duck in their shade, spread out across the sand, and drink up the buildings' coolness. "We need to see if it's safe before we enter any of the buildings," Wellings says while holding his cocked gun.
Wellings, Jacobs, and I leave the rest of the group, and we wander around the town, looking into blown-out windows and decaying wooden doors. We come to the town center with a clay fountain in the middle. The water has stopped flowing, but the gorgeous tile mosaic at its bottom glistens in the bright sunlight. Red poppy and canary yellow banners hang above the fountain, connecting to the rooftops of the nearing buildings. They sway in the gentle breeze, making the town look more asleep than abandoned. My wobbly feet walk across the intricate stone designs on the road. I make sure to dodge the beautiful vases scattered around the house's front yards with taller-than-me plants growing out of them to follow Wellings and Jacobs. They have been running through each building like they're in SEAL Team Six. They've trained on how to search a residence properly. I wonder how many Grub homes they raided back at the compound.
I stand outside a pink stucco-painted house with tall arches, wooden accents, and a shingled terracotta roof. It looks homely, as if the owners built it themselves or have lived there for many generations. Outside the house is a small sitting area overgrown with desert grass, and I stand in the middle of it, watching the sunbleached broken door hang off its hinges. I have my butcher knife in my hands, and it feels like it could as well be a thin stick. If we find another giant snake, this knife won't do shit to it.
"Clear!" I hear Jacobs call out to Wellngs. They both manifest at the door in the next few seconds with their guns drawn and their eyes staring back at me.
"Should I be looking for anything useful?" I scratch the back of my head.
Welling's gun falls. "Yeah, go for it. We'll check the next house."
I shove my knife into the waistband of my jeans as I hobble into the house. Dust overwhelms my senses, and I swat at the specks floating through the air with my hand. The living room is small, with just enough space for a homemade leather couch with carved wooden pegs, an intricate glass end table, and a brick fireplace. An offshoot hallway leads to a small kitchen with a traditional Mexican clay oven. Above the stove is an open window with tattered curtains swaying through the air. The breeze is coming through the shattered window, making the air smell stale. The kitchen was ransacked. The culprit only leaving boxes and empty cartons. The bedroom has a moldy blanket, a dusty pink skirt I thought Paige could use instead of her sweatpants, and an empty water bottle that looks too coated in nuclear dust to drink from. So I exit the house, all treasures in hand, and walk up to the next house, which Wellings and Jacobs are still in.
Before I touch the handle of the door, I freeze. What's staring back at me makes my stomach do flips.
The simple symbol spray-painted on the wooden door is a picture I know too well. It's my mother's tattoo. The letter E is written inside a heart in thin black lines-E for Ethan, her only child. I saw the tattoo on her collarbone daily and recognized it immediately. But why is it on this random door in an abandoned village? The only explanation is that my mother was here.