(eng) Morgan Rice - Survival 02 by Arena Two

Author:Arena Two [Two, Arena]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

T W E L V E

The four of us are still in a daze as we walk north, through the woods, alongside the Hudson. We walk beside the river, on snow-covered train tracks, and I watch the water as we go. A part of me refuses to believe our boat has been stolen.

But it’s been hours, and it’s starting to sink in that it’s gone for good. That we are stranded, on foot. And our boat, our only means of transportation, is gone.

After we discovered the boat was gone, we all spent time brushing the snow off the shells of vehicles that lined the streets, some of them on their side, twisted, burnt out. It was a desperate move, and a waste of time. Of course, none of them had any keys, and most of them didn’t even have engines—just gobs of metal, vestiges of cars. None of them remotely worked.

We knew we couldn’t stay in that town. We figured our safest shelter might be somewhere in the woods, close to the river. So we walked.

Now here we are, completely on our own. I can’t believe how stupid we were to leave the boat unguarded. But then again, who would’ve imagined that something like that would happen? We were too lax. We should have anticipated it.

But as I think about it, I realize that even if we did stay with the boat, there was probably not much we could have done. That was a large group of armed, professional pirates. Survivors. They probably would’ve just mowed us down with their guns. And with our boat basically out of fuel, it’s not like we could’ve taken it anywhere else. Maybe we got lucky that they took it while we were away. Maybe if we had put up a fight, we’d all be dead right now.

The grim reality of not having any transportation or shelter starts to sink in, to weigh heavily on all of us. We all walk slowly, our feet crunching in the snow, which is hardening. The temperature has dropped at least ten degrees and the wind has picked up; the snow is now freezing and turning to ice. A deep cold is starting to settle in my bones, to pierce right through me. I look at the others and see it is piercing through all of us. We are all huddled over, rubbing our hands, desperate for warmth.

Making matters worse—much worse—is Logan. He was hurt bad, and Ben and I have to help him walk, his arms slung over our shoulders. It is slowing us down, and I am very concerned for him. Up until now, he was always our backbone, our strength; now, he is a liability. I can’t help feeling that the odds are turning against us. The idea of reaching Canada at this point is almost laughable. We’d be lucky to make it the next mile.

We are getting farther and farther from any remnants of civilization, deep into the woods, and I’m starting to feel that our chances are grim.

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