“Burg—”
“I know. I didn’t name her. I was four when she was born, and I never got her name right. So she became Bunny to me, and that’s what she’ll always be.”
“You said she’s not around anymore.”
A chill settles on him, so cold and so sudden it’s unmistakable. “No. She’s gone.”
“I’m sorry.”
He opens his eyes to check my face and must see that I mean it. He softens. “Thanks.”
I want to ask more. It matters to me what happened to his sister—the only person he seems to have loved. But he’s a closed book now. For a generally good-natured person, he can shut down like a steel gate.
I don’t ask him anything else about his sister because I don’t want him to tell me no.
7
For the next two days,Micah stays with me in the camper and gains his strength back quickly. I hunt in the morning of the second day but can’t find anything worthwhile. So we fish for the rest of the day—Micah uses Jesse’s old rod—and we manage to catch two decent-size fish that we fry up for dinner that night. Otherwise, I hang around with Micah, doing small chores and enjoying the company more than I would have expected.
He stays laid-back and friendly—sticking to easy conversations. While he asks me a lot about myself, it doesn’t get too deep and intimate. So nothing throws my internal guards up, and I have a couple of really good days.
On the fourth morning after he appeared, I wake up looking forward to the day.
It hits me as I sit up in bed, my eyes instinctively finding Micah across the small distance.
He’s still sleeping, the blanket pushed down toward his thighs like normal. His hair is too short to be messy, but his beard is rumpled and askew.
He’s in really good shape. I can see it in the developed muscles of his body and the health of his skin and hair. He must have been able to get enough nourishment these past few years—which definitely isn’t the case for everyone. That’s part of why he’s been recovering so quickly from the blood loss.
Getting shot now is often a death sentence. If the initial penetration doesn’t kill you, then infections, complications, or blood loss will.
There are no hospitals anymore. Not here or anywhere in the knowable regions surrounding us. Maybe there is somewhere in the world where civilization didn’t collapse from the chaos and deprivation, but it’s not anywhere around here. The only people who matter now are your neighbors—and whether you can work with them to survive. There’s no longer any assumption that stores, hospitals, or emergency services will provide what you need.
It’s remarkable that Micah is getting better so quickly.
I’m still sitting in bed and staring at him—my mind buzzing even though I just now woke up—when he opens his eyes and meets my gaze.
“Mornin’,” he says in a groggy drawl.
“Hi.”
“Is it time to get up?”
“I’m getting up, but you don’t need to. You’re still weak and recuperating.”
He chuckles as he pushes himself up and drops his legs over the side of the bed. He winces only slightly as he stretches his torso.
“How does it feel?” I ask him, checking the bandages to make sure there’s no blood.
“It’s fine. Better than it should be for just a few days out.”
“You think you’ll be all right by yourself for most of the day?”
He frowns. “Why? Where you goin’?”
“We’re almost out of food. I need to trade for more. I’ve got some stuff here I could use, but if I’m going to make the trek, I might as well scavenge some more before I go to Cleverly.”
“Okay. I’ll come with you.”
