Her curiosity is piqued, and she nods eagerly.
“She was all by herself at the edge of the water, can’t be more than a few weeks old. I couldn’t leave her out there. The polar bears would grab her by morning.” When he fetches the small wolf cub from its crate and brings it out, presenting it to Nora in both hands like a prize, her smile grows three sizes.
“Oh my god, it’s a puppy!” She takes the pup carefully, mindful of her ribs, but the animal is lethargic and hardly moves, preferring to curl up in her lap.
“Wolf puppy. Not a clue what happened to her pack.”
She strokes the animal’s delicate fur, letting out a chuckle when the penguin gets jealous and jumps up to nestle at her side with a series of offended chirps. “I guess this is what we’re doing now, right? Taking care of whatever needs us? We’re up here already, may as well do what we can to keep this place running.”
“Yeah, I guess we are.”
Her hand drifts absently through the cub’s fur, and for a moment, the room softens around them. The fire hums in the wood stove, the smell of coffee lingers warm and bitter, and even the draft through the walls feels less like an intrusion and more like a reminder that they are still alive, still breathing the same air together. He watches her face as she studies the pup, and he realizes that these quiet mornings, with the two of them surrounded by animals, is all he’s ever wanted. Before, when he gave up a whole life to start a new one on the farm, he assumed he would be alone there. Forever. He accepted that, even looked forward to it, because being alone meant peace, but now he can’t imagine reaching this level of peace without Nora.
“That, and sending out a signal for survivors. Did you get the radio working yet?” she asks.
He sucks some air between his teeth. “About that.”
“We have to, Theo. If Gwen was right about people developing immunity, then we have to hope someone who knows what to do with her blood will find their way here. There could be a treatment in that vile somehow.”
“Looking for a scientist in a haystack is one thing, but let’s say we actually find one. You know how well it went the last time we met up with strangers.”
“Not everyone is like that. This is bigger than us. We have to try.”
It’s something he’s been hesitant about since she first brought it up a few days ago. Allowing anyone to find them now is a risk he’s uncertain of taking, but she’s adamant about trying to follow Gwen’s last wishes.
“We’ll tell them to head to Barrow,” she continues, “We don’t have to disclose our exact location right away. And hell, maybe no one will even hear the radio call anyway.”
And so he caves, agreeing to send out a call once a week on the off chance someone might pick up their signal. Truth be told, he hopes they never will. He could be happy here alone, with her and the animals, waiting out the apocalypse at the top of the world until they’re both old and gray.
* * *
Nora
Nora kneels by the small sink in the rehab center, rinsing the water bottle she’s refilling for the animals, her attention drifting to the drugs in the small fridge, and for a moment, she letsherself pause. Four weeks. Four weeks since her ribs broke and she stared at these pills, testing her willpower.
She remembers that first night clearly. The pain had been unbearable, every inhale a knife in her chest, every cough a reminder of how fragile she was. The temptation had screamed at her that day, louder than any pain, or any instinct to survive. Just one, it yelled. Just this one time. It’s okay.
Then she looked over at Theo and begged for relief. The way he had sat with her, holding her hand, whispering soothing words that tethered her to herself, reminded her she still had a reason to fight. His presence was a lifeline against the pull of something she feared more than broken ribs.
She hadn’t taken more than she needed for her injury. She hadn’t slipped. She had survived.
Now, she leans against the counter, staring at the source of her temptation, and a slow exhale escapes her. She is completely off the medication now, and while the pull may never leave her until the drugs themselves are gone, it’s a relief to realize how much stronger she is than she gave herself credit for. Stronger than the need that nearly consumed her, what feels like a lifetime ago.
Theo appears in the doorway, watching her, leaning on the frame, arms crossed, and his gaze soft. “You’re quiet today.”
“I’m thinking,” she says, turning to meet his eyes, gesturing to the medication. “About…everything. About how terrifying this was that first night.”
He takes a slow step forward, sliding his hand to the small of her back.
She bites her lip. “It’s not gone, you know. That need, that temptation, will always be there unless we flush these or use them up. But for the first time, I feel like I can breathe without it clawing at me.”
“That’s the thing about demons,” he murmurs. “They don’t disappear. But you’ve faced them. You’ve won. And every day since, you’ve kept winning.”
Nora closes her eyes and lets herself feel the weight lift from her shoulders. In the quiet of the rehab center, with Theo beside her, the possibility of a brighter future glimmers ahead. That’s worth more than any fleeting escape the pills could ever offer. The world outside may still be broken. The temptation may still whisper in her ear. But Nora is here. Alive. And she’s never letting go of that.
* * *
Wind rattles against the windows of the wildlife center, but inside it’s quiet and warm. Nora moves barefoot across the cold floor, checking on the animals, feeding the wolf pup they found, and topping off water dishes. Her movements are careful and deliberate. The broken ribs that nearly killed her are healing fast, though she can still feel the ache in her chest if she breathes wrong. She glances toward Theo, where he busies himself with other tasks and a smile curves her lips.
