The Nameless Survivor (Valkyrie) (23 page)

              It's been several months since Tugger set out for Stratton, seeking answers to a question that needed not be asked. I hope that he had changed his mind and simply hiked back to his cabin, but that was just wishful thinking. Tugger had ultimately found what he was looking for, or more likely, it found him first. Although she talks of him quite often, Mia does not seem too concerned for his wellbeing. Her naivety is a blessing, for sure.

             
Over the course of the past few months we have seen no infected, nor any of the living. Last winter was a mild one, aside from the devils storm, food was plentiful and our overall health is ideal. It's been as if God has shined his grace down upon us, or just maybe he became bored with our little ant-hill and moved on. Either way, these past months have been relaxed and serene, we only hope that this luck continues to hold.

             
The garden once again is completely planted and sprouting nicely. Mia did everything herself this year. She has changed so much, growing into a gorgeous woman who is quite determined, and most importantly happy. Her yellow locks have all grown in, draping down over her shoulders while glistening in the sun like tiny strands of gold. And, she has filled in nicely, no longer is she the malnourished child I found a little over a year ago.

             
She is a young woman now, her breasts have developed as they should be, and her hips are more prominent every day. She is changing, just like the seedlings in our garden. Growing and maturing more and more. Soon, she will begin to feel natures call, she will feel the urges. Those same urges that I have fought back for so long. I fear that soon her natural instinct to breed will take over, and that I will not be able to resist. Nature’s omnipotence is both strange and deceiving.

             
Nova too has matured, she's a full grown wolf now who still thinks she is a pup. Her and Mia are inseparable most days and are always looking out for each other. Sometimes I think they have developed their own language, or even some natural form of telepathy. They play and work together without any commands on Mia's part, their minds are connected, and together they have become one.

             
However, Mia and I too have formed an unexplainable bond. Something special, something that transcends sex. We interact in almost a similar fashion to her and her pup, finishing each other’s sentences and even tasks. For instance, yesterday I went outside to clean up some branches that had fallen on the roof over this past winter, only to find Mia carrying a ladder over to the cabin for the same exact purpose. It would appear that social-degradation has some amazing effects on the mind. Whatever it is that has brought us closer is most definitely a blessing, and I have come to cherish each and every day with her.

              Early yesterday morning Mia and I hiked over to Bear Brook with only a knife, some fishing line and hooks. We carried no food and just a small canteen of piss-warm water. This was a planned trip, not for scavenging or play, but as a way to strengthen our already proficient survival skills. Two nights and three days was our goal, surviving alone with just our wits, and of course Nova.

             
Mia was slightly nervous about the idea, even after years in a post-apocalyptic world. She has found peace in our little cabin and is cautious whenever we travel too far from it. But this trip is mostly for her, to ease her fears so that if one day we are forced to abandon our home, she will be ready. Not to mention how I love to torture her with undesirable edibles, it is a sick pleasure of mine.

             
Bear Brook is quite nice this time of year, its remoteness allows for a great spectacle of wildlife. An assortment of birds, moose, deer, and sometimes even bear searching for berries and the occasional brook trout. Of course this was not by far the hardest spot to survive. The sheer and jagged cliffs of Devil's Porch would truly test both of us. Bear Brook would be a good start for Mia, to get her back out in nature and show off her own skills as well as learning new ones.

             
We setup camp in an old gravel-pit, once used to sand the roads for the loggers in the winter. However the large gravel-crater is no longer a barren pit, but had sprouted its own little ecosystem. A medley of trees and bushes covered the interior now, over shadowed by ancient and massive hemlock and oak trees that lined the outer rim. It had become an oasis within an oasis, and with its high embankments and only one entrance it was a fortress to defend against any Infected that lurked within the forest.

             
A perfect location, a river to the east of us, a beaver-pond to the west, and a peat-bog to the north. All of which is encased with a thick and wild woodlands. A fire was our first priority, Mia collected some sticks and logs strewn about the area as I collected the tinder; birch bark and dried-up lichen. When we had enough to last the night Mia immediately worked on gathering rocks for the fire-pit while I scoured the outer edges of our natural-fortress. An endless bounty of stones were strewn about the eroding embankments. Diligently I sorted through them all, looking for the perfect mineral.

             
Once located I handed it off to Mia to examine and memorize before she began her test of patients. This form of fire starting is obviously not the best in any survival situation, but our location provided all the materials required for the first skill that Mia would have to master.

She spent a good amount of time striking my knife against that stone, praying that a single spark would fly into her tinder bundle and end this redundant and time consuming task. Although there was the occasional glitter of light, it was just not enough to ignite anything.

              It had become apparent that Mia was frustrated at the situation, and a shadow of guilt had begun to hang over me. I had pushed her patients to the limit, so without a word I knelt down behind her and grabbed both of her hands. Her skin was so soft, so milky smooth, that for a moment I simply traced my thumb back and forth against the top of it. She leaned herself back into my chest, breathing heavy from all her work. Her hair smelled like a hot spring afternoon, with a hint of sweat. It was almost intoxicating, so much that I forced my attention back onto the stone in her hand.

             
With a quick thrust I forced her hand down hard, striking the knife against the stone with a shower of sparks raining down into the tinder. It ignited instantly into a small single flame, and then quickly grew into a raging fire. Quickly Mia began to pile on more twigs and sticks, letting the fire take hold and build before she tossed on a couple logs. She released an irked sigh, then looked up at me with a grin of annoyance across her face. 

             
“You couldn't have just done that earlier?” she stammered.

             
Laughing off her sweetness we built up the fire up even more to ensure a nice bed of hot coals would remain for the rest of the day and then set out to scavenge for food. We headed east to the river, collecting worms, slugs and even salamanders along the way. Although it has been dry the river still roared through the valley, the last of the spring-melt filling the sleek and bendy channel. Every so often a fish would spring from the flow like a rocket reaching for the heavens.

             
Quick and efficient we strung up five or six hooks, one foot apart along a long-length of fishing line. Each hook we baited with the assortment of critters that we had collected. I secured one end of the line to a low-lying alder before wading through the rushing water to the opposite riverbank to secure the other end. The whole length of hooks dangled just below the surface for the night and hopefully reward us with a bounty of trout.

             
On our way back to the camp-site we came across an old rotted stump. It was mid-day and we had yet to have lunch, so I figure the stump should supply us with a couple morsels of grubs. With a swift kick the stump crumbled into dry-rot, revealing a smorgasbord of food. Black carpenter ants, a large hive sprinkled with a million big white eggs. The ants of course are quite nutritious, but absolutely taste like shit. The eggs on the other hand would have a milder flavor. Swiftly I gathered up a few dozen of the ivory caviar, swatting away the frenzy of ants who perilously attempted to protect their young.              

             
Nonchalantly I held up my hand full of the pill-sized eggs to Mia, which immediately was returned with a glare of disgust. After eating fish eggs, fish hearts, and even giant water bugs roasted over the fire - she is weary of my irregular entrees. Although, she has yet to turn down a single offer, it is but a matter of appeal or starvation. And the latter is the least pleasing path to endure.

             
“Look, I'll even try them.” I said as I grabbed up a few and tossed them in my mouth.

             
She stared at me in disgust as I chewed them up without the slightest grimace.  Slightly spongy, almost gelatinous, until they popped open between my teeth and released a tiny spurt of goo throughout my mouth. The taste however was quite unexpected, light and savory, this was of course my first taste of ant eggs. I have never been the squeamish type when it comes to what most would consider taboo food.

             
“They're good Mia, kind of like little pockets of shrimp and mushroom stew smothered in wood-pulp.” My description did not entice her any, but I gestured her to try some with a look of 'We’re not leaving until you do.'

             
It took a few moments before she reached out and nervously picked up one single egg, and took even more time for her to dig up the courage to pop it in her mouth. She quickly chewed it up, all the while scrunching up her face in disgust. I could see it in her throat, the desperate attempt not to gag as she forced it down. Then with a deep breath she glared up at me and all I could do was laugh.

             
“Pretty good, aren't they?” I asked.

             
Still chuckling I gathered up a few more that hadn't been hauled off by the horde of pissed-off critters, and then, once again we were on our way back. However it was not long before she held out her hand begging for some more. She followed along, popping the eggs one by one into her mouth like they were popcorn. It's like my mother always said, “Don’t knock it till you try it.” Of course she seemed to enjoy them more than I, my original expectations were misguided at best.

             
After resting at camp for a while we headed off to the peat-bog to collect a few pitcher plants for roasting on the fire. Of course, I also planned on showing Mia a reliable source of semi-clean water.  A part of me giggled, still amused with the eggs, the thought of her tipping the plant back and allowing a flow of partially digested insect-soup to wash over her tongue.

             
However, we reached the bog only to discover that foraging would be out of the question there. The area is not really a bog, more of a small dark pond in the middle of the forest encompassed by a thick blanket of moss floating atop its placid surface. Growing within it is an assortment of flowers, shrubs and even small trees - of course this also includes the pitcher plant. And, beneath that blanket of greenery lay a tangled mass of roots that stretches down ten feet to the pond's bottom, greedily sucking the blackened water up to surface.

             
My father would always say, 'If you have to hide a body, just stuff it under the peat.' Morbidly it made sense, no one would ever find you there. And to think, as a kid I would run atop the spongy surface creating a wave across the moss like it was a water bed. Even then I knew that at any moment I could break through that blanket and plunge into the grip of those roots, yet I still did it anyway. But there would be no play-time that day, nor food, we soon left that place of child-hood happiness and buried it in the back of our minds. As we broke through the trees, and onto the moss, we stopped and stared down along its outer edges. A monument of the plague stood partially submerged beneath the moss.

             
Necrotics, maybe fifteen or twenty, entombed waste deep into the tangles of tightly bound roots. The smell of their rotting flesh was abhorrently strong, forcing us to cover our noses. They did not struggled, they did not move, they simply bobbed up and down within the wake of our intrusion. It was unclear if they were officially dead, or in a sort of hibernation-state, but we were not about to find out. Plus, how many pitcher-plants had come in contact with them, there was no taking chances out here. Even the water was off limits, no amount of boiling would get me to drink that putrid tea. So we would leave it be, allowing them too steep for eternity. From now on, that bog shall be known as Hell's Garden.

             
We headed back to the pit in utter defeat. The fire was nothing but a bed of coals when we returned, so we quickly added more wood to coax her back to life and I began to prep for dinner. Stone-fried ant-eggs and blueberries. It wasn't much, but any small bit of food is a godsend when you’re hungry. We might as well have been feasting on lobster and corn on the cob. After dinner we sat around the fire and relaxed while listening to a myriad of night-time creatures. A couple of owls called out repeatedly to each other, and occasionally the bellow of a moose would silence them for a moment. It added an eerie qualm to the landscape. However the chorus of crickets and peepers over-shadowed that eeriness and added a bit of surrealism.

             
“So Mia,” I said, breaking the silence. “What did you want to be when you grew up, before the outbreak of course?” She didn't speak at first, and for a moment I thought she may not remember, or simply did not want to think of the past.

             
“An animal doctor, for cat's especially.”

             
“Cat's? Why just Cat's?” I asked.

             
“Not just cat's, they were just my favorite animal.”

             
“And what is your favorite animal now?” She looked over at Nova who was fast asleep next to the fire, then looked up at me with the biggest grin I had seen yet on her beautiful face.

             
“Wolves.” She responded with excitement.

             
“Of course, wolves.” I said chuckling.

             
There was another moment of silence as we stared at each other, our eyes locked together. Although, an awkward silence it was not, we were content just gazing at each other. After a moment her face flushed red and she turned her attention back onto the crackling fire. But, I never looked away, I couldn’t, I was again lost in her beauty and trapped within a sea of adoration.

             
“And what did you want to be?” she asked before glance up at me again.

             
“I don't really remember anymore.”

             
“So what did you become, you know, before?”

             
“A teacher, actually a college professor.”

             
“A teacher? You don't look like a teacher.” She retorted.             

             
“And how should a teacher look?”

             
“Not like you, you’re too furry. You should have been a lumber jack.” She giggled.

             
“It may surprise you, but I use to be clean shaven.” I said while scratching my whiskers.

             
“I'd like to see that.” She said with a cute little smirk on her face.

             
“Someday, if we can find a clean razor.”

             
There was another moment of silence, our attention now back on the fire. But I could still see her taking quick glances up at me, and always smiling. I shuffled about picking up some more wood and throwing it on the fire, the flames rose higher casting a radiant glow across Mia's face. She was an Angel in the fire-light.