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But I know that isn’t true. I’ve lived here my whole life and these mountains are my home. The land was sold and the hunting cabins all now sit empty with the prospect of a new resort being built or maybe some wealthy investor just wants to sit on the land with the hopes of turning a profit later.
If it wasn’t so cold and snowy, we might be able to find a way out of here, but without all this snow, we wouldn’t have water to drink. It’s all a perfectly fucked up mess.
Alex is still asleep when I come back in and he sleeps through me adding the new logs to the fire. Not that either of us are disturbed by that sound. It’s another thing we’ve gotten used to, knowing it’s one of the things that is keeping us alive. One of us is always rolling over in the night and shoving logs into the old stove.
I go to the bathroom, alone for the first time since the bear incident and nothing is amiss, the wilderness is silent as always. That bear must have smelled food, or maybe sensed that people were in the cabin, which would mean food. Not us, but the food we may have had with us.
This is what my life has come to. I spend my days wondering why a bear showed up and if there is a road nearby or if eating too much pasta can make you hate it for life.
Now I know what Tom Hanks felt like when he was stranded on that island with the volleyball. At least I have Alex to talk to.
Speaking of, he’s still sleeping when I come in from the outhouse and I’m far too bored already to let him sleep the day away.
“Alex,” I whisper, crawling onto the mattress until I’m next to him. I let my lips trail lightly over his skin, my mouth finding its way along his neck to his ear. “Wake up.”
He shifts a little, taking in a hard breath as he turns toward me. A simple smile forms on his lips, but his eyes remain closed.
“Laney,” he purrs. “Lay here with me.” He opens his arms, welcoming me into his sleepy embrace and I go, loving how sweet and loving he has become since we’ve been here. I close my eyes, the warmth of Alex’s body soothing me back to sleep.
I wakeup a few hours later, noticing that for the first time in a long time, I’m sweaty. But more than that, I notice that Alex’s body is extremely hot, and not like the normal body temperature that we use to keep each other warm at night. He’s burning up.
I push my lips against his forehead the way my mom used to do when I was a kid and she was checking to see if I had a fever.
As soon as my lips touch his skin, I know something is not right. All of this explains why he’s slept for so long. His body is like what the fuck is happening. And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t secretly panicking on the inside.
He can’t be sick. Not out here. Not when we have very little resources. My mind immediately takes stock of the number of painkillers in the bottle that I opened last night. It wasn’t very many, certainly not enough to deal with a fever this high.
I immediately go to the closet, rummaging through the overnight bag I found when we first got here, recalling that there was a bag of toiletries in it. I took the toothpaste and deodorant and a few other minor things out of it, but I can’t remember if I saw any kind of medicine in there.
I almost start to cry when I find a half empty bottle of ibuprofen. Opening it, I shake the pills out into my hand, jiggling them around to give them a quick count. Among the small tan pills, there are a few white ones and several small red ones too. I have no idea what they are, but like our rotten supply of food, we may just need these mystery pills.
I put them all back in the bottle, taking them with me over to the kitchen area, I set them down on the counter. I find the towel that we used last night to ice Alex’s ankle and quickly take it outside, filling it with snow once again.
I bring it over to where Alex is still sleeping, either that or he’s out of it because of the fever. I put the cool towel against his forehead, hoping the snow helps lower his body temperature.
“Laney, what the…” Alex mutters, weakly trying to shove my hand away.
“You have a fever,” I tell him, pushing his hair back so the towel can cover more of his forehead. “I need you to keep this on your head so your fever comes down. And—” I start, but as if Alex can read my mind, he shakes his head.
“I’m not taking the Tylenol in my first aid bag,” he grumbles, his words quiet, almost as if it hurts to get them out.
“Yes, you are. I’m not arguing with you over this. This is the reason we saved them and didn’t take them when our bodies were sore after the fall. This is an emergency, Alex.”
“The whole fucking thing is an emergency, Delaney,” he says, and a small smile appears on his lips, like he’s trying to make light of what’s happening.
Typical Alex, joking when shit is about to get real.
“Now you know I find your snarky sense of humor endearing, but I’m serious. You need to take some meds and get this fever down.”
“Will you give me a sponge bath if I do?” he asks, his fingers pushing my shirt up, exposing my stomach as he trails his fingers over it.
“Yes, I’ll give you a sponge bath, but only because I think it will bring your fever down.” This comment makes him laugh and there’s something about it that makes me feel hopeful.
Every day we’re out here without something awful happening, feels like a good day. Today, not so much, but hearing Alex laugh, helps reassure me that he’s going to be alright. And even if he is sick for a few days, I have to hope we have what we need to keep him from getting worse.
It’s hard not to jump to conclusions and think the worst in everything that happens to us out here, but I need to pull myself back together. The last thing Alex needs is to see me worried and panicking. If he does, the first thing he’ll do is toss his own health aside to make sure I’m okay.
“Here,” I say, handing him the water bottle filled with fresh water in the hopes of keeping him hydrated. “I’m going to make some pine needle tea in a bit, but for now, drink that whole bottle.”
