The Reset by Powell Daniel

Author:Powell, Daniel [Powell, Daniel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Distillations Press
Published: 2014-02-01T08:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-THREE

Everything was just where he had left it. Alice dressed their wounds as best she could, and Ben leaned against her for support as they trudged toward home. She wore his pack, filled now with seeds and canned food. She carried the guns—all four of them, counting the one Pinnock had surrendered.

It was a huge burden for such a small woman, but she bore up under it and kept pushing forward.

On and on they walked. The clouds thinned from time to time and the moon shone down, lighting a dim path through open meadows and decaying woodlands.

They walked and they searched, and before long they found a place to sleep.

The house had burnt to the ground, but a little lean-to out back had survived. A small supply of firewood had been stacked optimistically in the corner, as if the Reset had just been a short interruption in the grand scheme of things and that, when Christmas rolled around and it was time for lazy evenings by a roaring hearth, there would still be enough to have a fire.

They ducked behind the firewood, concealing themselves. It would be a fine place to pass the few hours remaining before dawn.

Alice helped Ben shrug out of his clothes. His tee-shirt was soaked with blood. She could feel him leaking—the blood welling and seeping down his side. How much time did he have left?

“Thirsty,” Ben croaked; he was fading. Alice helped him to the ground. She re-bandaged his wounds as best she could. Aside from the major laceration, which needed sutures, there were three smaller puncture wounds. These had already clotted.

Ben was dying; she was sure of it. He was dehydrated and pale. His tongue snaked out over cracked lips. “Thirsty,” he repeated.

“I’ll be back. Rest easy, Ben. I’m going for water.” She kissed him hard, lingering there while she choked back the tears. “Rest easy. I’ll be right back.”

She grabbed their empty water bottles and stole back into the night, struggling with their dilemma. Would he be alive when she returned? Had they spoken their last to each other?

She ran most of a mile before stumbling across the stream. It gurgled through the Georgia countryside and she knelt at a wide, still place where the water calmed in a pool. She bent and drank deeply. It was cold and sweet, and when her belly was full, she filled the bottles and took just a single moment to gather herself for the trip back to Ben.

In that instant, the clouds parted and the moon shone through. Its silver form glowed in the center of the pool—seemingly within arm’s reach—and it was beautiful. She leaned out over the water to catch a glimpse of herself. Blood freckled her cheeks and forehead. Her hair was a wild tangle. She closed her eyes and muttered a quick prayer.

When she opened them, she found she had a visitor.

On the opposite bank, not twenty feet away, a huge buck drank from the water. There was a rustling in the brush, and the big male was joined by a doe.

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