Gunnar stared at the rotting pile of fruit that they had assembled on the tables. He fixed his eyes on the brown patch on the green apple's side. He imagined the fruit floating in the air and he spun it around, looking at the top and the back to see its imperfections. He mentally threw in the strawberries that lay around into account for the angle he needed this throw to hit that rotting spot.
Trevor the entertainer began to whistle as he waited for Gunnar to finish eyeing the fruit. Suddenly, Gunnar drew the knife above his shoulder and released it moment later. The blade soared through the air and hit the apple squarely on his mark.
"Impressive," Trevor said as he looked for another target. "Okay, cereal aisle, let's find one of those mini boxes for you to hit."
Gunnar smiled, this was actually quite fun. He went over to pull the knife out of the apple and follow Trevor down a new aisle.
"Okay, we're increasing the distance now. Hit that little box of Frosted Flakes."
Gunnar was lost to the present for another minute before his arm shot forward methodically and the knife pierced the box right in the middle of Tony the Tiger's nose.
"I don't think there's anything else I can teach you about throwing. What other survival skills can we hone?" Trevor asked.
"Fire," Gunnar thought aloud. Rob had started all their fires since the disaster. Short of dousing something in gasoline and pulling out a lighter, he had no clue how to start one. He wasn't looking to waste all his fuel trying to stay warm. "How do start a fire without gas?"
"What, you were never a boy scout? Never went camping?"
"No," Gunnar replied.
"I think this is something I could actually teach you unless you also have ninja-pyro skills I'm not aware of."
Gunnar laughed and shook his head as they ran down the furniture aisle to find wooden tables and shelves. They loaded them up in the cart and wheeled them to the loading dock near the dumpsters where they also scavenged around for cardboard boxes.
"Okay, so we have two options here the tepee or the log cabin. We'll start with the tepee."
They shredded up some of the cardboard into smaller pieces that were left to the side.
Trevor brought out a small axe and handed it over to Gunnar. "So now we need some kindling which is a fancy word for thin pieces of wood." Gunnar raised the axe up high, but Trevor caught his arm. "With kindling, you want to be gentle. Treat her like a beautiful woman not like a throwing target."
Trevor moved the axe so it was resting gently on the wood that Gunnar had in his hand. Then he took the axe to show Gunnar how tiny whacks slowly splintered away thin slices of wood. Trevor handed the axe back to Gunnar who placed it carefully on the wood which he held tightly in his right hand. As he was about to swing Trevor stopped him again.
"You're going to have no fingers left if you keep this up. Just balance the wood, don't hold tight."
Gunnar kept slicing away at the wood that fell every third try or so when it lost balance. By the end, he had a good pile of wood pieces to build up the tepee. They lined all the pieces upright and meeting at a central point to create a cone shape. Then Gunnar placed the cardboard and paper inside the tepee while Trevor dug through his bag for a box of matches.
"Light 'er up, kid," Trevor said.
The match struck the strip, resisting only a little until a flame burned at the end. He brought it over to the tepee, careful to protect it from the wind. He lit different corners of the paper like Trevor had told him to and soon the paper had ignited. The flames licked at the small pieces of wood, painting lines of black on them. The wood began to crackle and the flames jumped even higher. Every once in awhile, the fire would spit flame-chewed bits of ash or charred paper in their direction.
"Shit, that's it then?" Gunnar asked, turning to Trevor who had begun to hack away at a swinging bench with an axe.
"Once it's going good, you start adding bigger pieces a couple at a time like this," he said, carefully setting two pieces on either side of the tepee. It shook for a moment before it went back to its still shape.
They sat, warming themselves by the fire for a good thirty minutes until the wind had blown it over one too many times and cold drops started falling from the sky. The fire sizzled and cried as it was hit with the liquid ammunition. The dark clouds told them a downpour was coming. Trevor stomped out the bits of the coals that hadn't been put out with the rain.
"Now that you've learned to make a fire, I think it's time you've learned the art of making a smore," Trevor said.
"A what?"
"A smore, a delicious marshmallow, chocolate, graham cracker treat. It's a shame you've never tried one, but we can fix that."
Gunnar smiled as they went back through the store doors. If this was the life he was in for now, it might just be bearable. Hell, it just might be easier than what he had done for the past seventeen years.