Jude says nothing, but his hand finds mine in the water, and he squeezes it hard enough to hurt.
We let the Colorado take us far away.
13
The hut.
“There is a strange old god who rose in Lake Granby, Colorado. A god that seems to be made for the ocean and yet got stuck in the center of the United States. Maybe from the time when the Western Interior Seaway still existed. He has two large fins in the front and a powerful tail to cleave water. He can walk on land, but with difficulty, which ensured that he stayed stuck in the center of Colorado for a long time. In the first year after the Rise, when the army reached the lake and identified the old god, they named him Altamaha-ha. Altamaha-ha was a legendary monster inhabiting a lake in Georgia. I remember seeing it on TV. They compared him to drawings and even a statue. But I assure you, the old god is much worse than his mythical counterpart, and I’m glad he’s confined to the lake. We have enough monsters in the oceans.”
Video transcription of a video file shared among survivors, creator unknown, 2057.
We float downstream for an hour until Jude starts shaking. We need to find a place to get dry and rest. I point to some kind of shore with trees, hidden at the bottom of the canyon. We swim to the sand and extract ourselves painfully from the river’s embrace.
There appears to be a trail going up through the canyon, only accessible on foot. There’s also a hut made of all kinds of recycled material under the trees. I gesture to Jude to stay there, and I walk to it to check for inhabitants. But the place is empty. And things seem to have been left untouched for months. The blankets are covered by a layer of dust. Someone must have called it a home for a while. Thanks to the Hoover Dam, it survived the floods.
“Let’s stay here for the night,” I announce.
Jude nods. He looks a little pale and is in dire need of a rest. He takes his clothes off and puts them over some rocks to let them dry under the sun. Then he lies on the sand, shivering. I try not to let my eyes linger on his body for too long. Now is not the ideal moment to have a boner.
I grab the abandoned blankets in the ramshackle hut and wash them in the river before hanging them on a tree. It’s still early morning; they’ll have time to dry before nightfall.
The people who lived here for a time were smart. They built a fire pit under the trees to hide the flames and disperse the smoke. I spend half an hour building a decent fire while keeping an eye on Jude and the river. We’re at a safe distance from the dam, but it never hurts to be cautious.
Jude fell asleep on the sand. The sun isn’t high enough yet to become dangerous, so I let him be. In the wastelands, exposure can kill as easily as an old god.
I take my clothes off—they’re almost dry already—and walk back into the river. I stand knee-deep in the water, motionless, until the fish get used to my presence. I stun the first one that ventures close with an electric charge, then throw it on the beach. I do that for the best part of an hour, until I have five fat fish to cook over the fire pit.
Jude is awake. He’s been watching me.
“Do you always fish naked?” he asks. “Not that I mind.”
“Do you always sunbathe naked?” I retort.
He nods. “Yes. I like to keep my tan homogeneous,” he jokes.
I smile. “Put your clothes back on before you get a heatstroke.”
“Am I distracting you?”
“Yes,” I say truthfully.
He seems surprised by my honesty. I don’t know if the red undertone on his skin is from blushing or a slight sunburn. I marvel at the fact that I went from a bloody mess tied to theFireflyto joking with him naked in less than two weeks. What happened to us?
“I’ll help you gut the fish,” Jude says, putting his dry clothes on.
There is sand stuck on his right cheek. When he gets closer, I reach for his face with my hand. Jude backs away, wary, before leaning into my touch. His newborn trust does something to my heart.
“You have sand on your cheek,” I explain, rubbing it off.
“Thanks.”
We both know I could kill him with one touch. But killing is far from my mind right now.
I put my clothes on, and we gut the fish with the knives I found in the hut. There are many useful things inside. From extra clothes, pots, glass bottles… I wonder briefly what happened to the people who lived here for a while. My bet is on a trip to the wastelands that went awry. I find an old kettle and use it to boil water for later. Drinking from the river won’t kill us, but it can make us a little sick. We don’t need to risk it.
We cook the fish over the fire pit and eat them in silence.
Until, at last, Jude breaks it.
