Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76381 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76381 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Clearly, no one had been here for a long fucking time, because it took a lot more force than it should have to get it open.
But, eventually, the door gave, and it creaked open to reveal a stagnant, dusty interior.
“Come on,” I said, voice soft, waiting for her to move in behind me before going inside.
It wasn’t much.
Four walls that created maybe sixty-five square feet of space. But, hey, it was shelter.
And there was actually a fucking bed against the wall, covered with a wool blanket. Sure, it was a little moth-eaten and smelled musty as fuck. But it would provide warmth. That was all that mattered.
“Sit,” I said, motioning to the bed as I made a beeline for the cabinet built into the wall, praying for some sort of shelf-stable food that hadn’t been eroded or eaten by insects or rodents.
Most of the shit was canned, though, years expired, and not something I would risk on someone who was as physically compromised as Vienna already was.
But there was some honey. And, hey, calories were calories, even if it wasn’t ideal. And two sealed dehydrated meals. I didn’t even bother checking their labels. That shit was good for something like thirty years. And it just needed water to become edible.
“A little better?” I asked, turning to find her sitting on the bed with the blanket wrapped tightly around her.
“Yes,” she said, nodding. “Is that food?” she asked.
“Yeah, I just gotta go get some water to rehydrate it. There’s a few cups, too. So I’ll bring those and fill them up. Here,” I said, holding out the honey to her. “I know it’s probably not going to be pleasant to just… eat honey. But it’s like sixty-five calories per tablespoon. And you need as many calories as you can get.”
“I’m not complaining,” she said, flipping open the top, then squeezing some onto her tongue.
“I will be back as quickly as I can,” I told her.
Then I gathered the various cups and even an old mason jar, and made my way out toward the creek. Night was coming on quickly, so I pushed myself faster than my body wanted to get there and back before the darkness really set in.
Juggling my various cups, I pushed open the door, and nearly dropped everything I’d gathered on the fucking floor.
Because Vienna was nowhere in sight.
“Vienna?” I gasped, heart hammering, terrified they’d somehow caught up with us, had come and dragged her back to that hell.
I would go back for her.
I had to.
But even as I was about to turn and go rush through the woods, there was a sliding sound, and she was moving out from under the bed.
“Sorry,” she said once she got a look at my face.
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” I assured her, acting like my heart wasn’t hammering against my ribcage as I put the cups of water down on top of the fireplace, only bringing one over to use to rehydrate the bean and veggie soup food packet.
“This is probably not going to taste great cold, but we can’t risk a fire,” I told her, finding a spoon, then handing over the soup.
“It smells good,” she said, taking a long sniff, then starting to shovel the food into her mouth. It wouldn’t have even mattered if it tasted like garbage with how fast she was shoving it in.
My heart twisted, wanting to offer her the other serving just so she could know what real fullness felt like, but I needed to hold onto that for the next day. Especially if we were going to be in these damn woods for any longer than that. She needed the strength.
“You’re not eating?” she asked, using her finger to scoop the traces of flavor off the side of the mylar package.
“No. I had a big meal before the meeting. I’m good for now.”
“You’re saving it for me, aren’t you?” she asked, chewing on her cracked lip.
“Yes,” I admitted since there was no use lying to her about it. “I can go without a meal or two. You can’t. Try not to think in normal terms of fairness right now. This is survival. My body has energy to burn for a while still. Yours doesn’t. There’s no reason to feel bad about that.”
Knowing I was right, she nodded.
“Try to get some sleep. We are going to leave the second the light comes up in the morning,” I told her as the sounds of the night enveloped the cabin.
“Okay,” she agreed, looking exhausted as she curled back up in the blanket, tucking every inch of her inside of it as possible, then slowly drifting to sleep.
I stayed awake, jumping at shadows and the sounds outside, ready to pounce if anyone tried for that door.
But it was another noise that started to bother me in the darkest parts of the night just before morning, something I couldn’t place right at first, until I traced it to the bed.