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The Hours #13

When I opened my eyes, I was looking at the back of Samantha’s head, and despite the horrors of these last few days, I could not help but smile. We lay side by side, pressed together like spoons in a sideboard, and I found my mind wandering down paths that I had been taught were not for a gentleman.

I could feel her moving with each breath. My arm was wrapped around her and she held my hand in hers regardless of being lost in slumber.I had to protect her. That meant that we needed to find more food.The bird had tasted heavenly, no doubt due to our hunger, but one of the feathered murders was not enough to leave us satisfied.

It also meant that we needed water. I was parched and for the first time that I could remember, I did not wake with a need to relieve myself. We would die of thirst in another day or two and I could not allow any harm to come to Samantha. She was now all that I had. She was all that mattered. Her body kept me warm, as mine did hers. We were lost, but together and now I looked at her as more than a simple acquaintance.  She was mine in many ways and I tightened my grip around her.

I must have squeezed too hard, for she stirred. I gave a silent prayer that she might be allowed a few more minutes of peace, though in truth my prayer was as selfish as it was altruistic. I did not want to let her go yet.

I heard a cracking sound. Something in the woods ahead of me had stepped on a limb. We were not alone and in this nightmare world, that meant we were in immediate danger.

The club I used to secure our dinner should have been right behind my leg. I pulled my hand away from the girl and reached back.


I shifted my arm back and forth, keeping my palm just above the ground as I searched for my weapon. I could hear my pulse thundering in my ears to the point that I wondered if I would be able to hear another limb breaking. My breath was shallow and as I searched, I felt my stomach clench with panic.

Samantha shifted so that he back was on the ground and she smiled up at me. Her lips parted in what I assume was to be a greeting, but she stopped as she studied my face. I did not look at her, but kept my eyes focused on the trees ahead.

Samantha began to sit up. Looking all around as she did so. She reached forward and picked up her own stick as she gathered her feet beneath her.

I rolled over, letting my eyes locate my bloody weapon since it seemed to have rolled beyond my reach. I snatched up the length of wood and spun back as another stick broke near by.

“What is it?” Her voice was so soft that I had to run over her words three times before I was sure of what she had asked.

“No idea.”

We waited and the sticks continued to break. Whatever was making its way by us, it did not come closer. Samantha jumped and almost whirled around to strike me when I put my hand on her shoulder. “We should leave.”

Samantha rested her hand on her breast for a moment, relaxing from the scare I had given her, before nodding and taking my offered hand in an iron grip and cracked one of my knuckles.


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