It was already dark when he caught her. She had stopped running. She lay on the ground, hardly breathing, shivers wracking her whole body. Dehydration. He crouched next to her and shrugged off his backpack, opened it and pulled out a bottle of water.
“Wake up, kid.” She moaned softly when he gathered her to his arms and placed the bottle against her lips, pouring just a trickle of water in her mouth.
“Time to wake up, Marie. We have to keep moving,” he muttered, letting go of the bottle when she grabbed it.
“I’m too tired… Can I sleep for a while…” She rasped, taking a long pull from the water.
“Easy… Drink slowly. We can’t stop. Not yet. Have to keep moving. We can sleep after we reach the settlement.” He couldn’t smell or hear anybody except him and Marie, but that didn’t mean a thing. He hadn’t smelled the Destroyer that had been hiding in the truck, either. Marie started to sputter and cough. He took the bottle from her, screwed the cap back on and slid it to the backpack.
“I’m still thirsty…”
“And you will get sick if you drink any more. We’ll stop later and you can have some more. Come on, get up…” Logan said, standing up and pulling her after him.
She was sick and tired, and Logan was being mean to her. All she wanted to do was to drink some more, and take a little nap. Now he was running, and dragging her along like a rag doll. Couldn’t he see how exhausted she was? She wanted to stop. She wanted to sit down. She wanted to cry. Because she knew Logan was right. They had no time to stop. So she did her best, willing her feet to obey and keep in pace with Logan. Her brave attempt was cut short when a loose rock rolled away from under her heel. She stumbled; hand still clasped to Logan’s, and then fell on her knees with a startled shriek.
“I said we could stop later…” Logan growled. She couldn’t hold back her tears anymore. They came accompanied by an agonized wail.
“Just because you can do it, doesn’t mean that I can! I’m not some build-up super-weapon! I’m just me! Just an ordinary, not so durable mutant!”
“And guess how happy I am about that?” Logan whispered, crouching in front of her, his back turned towards her. He had shrugged off his backpack.
“Put this on and hop on to my back,” he said, tossing the backpack to Marie.
“There’s a gun in here…” She sniffled.
“Safety is on. Don’t worry about it. Hop on. I’ll carry you. At least for a while.”
She weighed next to nothing. Small hands clasped around his throat, legs wrapped to his waist. Yet she was big enough to throw him off balance. Carrying her was slowing him down. Soft breasts pressed against his back and warm breath tickling the side of his throat weren’t helping matters either. He had to concentrate, but his thoughts kept drifting to much more pleasant scenarios when he was supposed to think up clever plans how to loose possible pursuers from their tracks.
“I think I’m going to be sick…”
“No, you’re not.”
“My head hurts… I want to sleep…”
“Stop whining and hold on.”
“I want to go home…”
“There’s no fucking home.”
“Can we stop and rest?”
“No.”
For a while Marie had been bickering and whining. He had been relieved for that. It had distracted him from his urge to throw her down and fuck her, but now she had been awfully quiet. Her grip around his throat started to loosen. He had to stop and lean forward to keep her falling from his back.
“Marie?” No answer. She was sleeping.
“Kid?” He crouched down and let her slide off from his back. She fell to a boneless heap to the ground.
“Shit.” Quick scan of their surroundings revealed nothing threatening. He decided to let her sleep for a while. He sat next to her, taking the backpack off from her and rummaged through it. Three full bottles of water. Ten energy bars. She would need all the water. He took one bar, closed the backpack and tucked it under her head. Wasn’t the softest possible pillow, but it was better than nothing.
Disgusting stench of his own sweat and blood made him strip off his ruined shirt. For a moment he stared at the backpack longingly. Then shook his head. She would need all the water. He scooped handful of sand and rubbed it over his skin. Grains would at least rub off the dried blood, and he wouldn’t feel so slippery and sticky anymore. He gave his hair the same treatment. Dust would dry off at least some of the sweat that trickled down his forehead, making his eyes sting.
It was so goddamned easy to fall back to old behavior patterns, that it was scary. In the field you learned to get by with what you had. For years he had had the luxury of choosing with what to get by. Yet now he didn’t have any difficulties to accommodate to the life without everyday necessities. Blowing up the bunker had stung for a moment, but now he felt almost relieved that he had gotten rid of it. One more burden less to take care of.
His hand landed on Marie’s shoulder. Small, warm and alive. Something to take care of. A tangible link to the real world. She would keep him in the land of the living. Separate him from the Destroyers. But to do that she would have to stay well and alive. He would have to take better care of her. As she herself had said it, she wasn’t as durable as Logan. Had she understood what he had meant when he told her he was happy about it? To him it meant she was free. Pure from the taint he carried inside of him.
“Time to wake up, kid…” Somebody was shaking her.
“Wake up.” That somebody sure was persistent. She tried to crawl away from the prodding finger that was jabbing her ribs. That finger turned to a hand that grabbed her elbow and wrestled her to a seated position, forcing her to open her eyes. Logan.
“How are you feeling?” He asked. She smacked her dry lips, and blinked couple of times.
“Like shit. Better than before. Thanks for letting me sleep.”
“It’s okay. I know I’m being an asshole. Sorry about that. Here. Drink some,” Logan said, pushing a bottle of water to her hand before standing up. It was warm and stale, but nothing had felt as good in long time, than that small sip of water flowing down her parched throat. She took another gulp, then Logan snatched the bottle from her, closing the cap and putting it back to backpack.
“We have at least one more full day before we reach that settlement. We don’t have that much water with us. Forgot the other backpack when those fuckers attacked.”
“Okay.”
“Will you stay on your feet?” Logan asked. She nodded. She would stay on her feet. She would keep up with him.
“Good. Lets get going,” Logan said, tossing the backpack over his shoulder.
It was little easier. Her body was slowly giving in for her demands. Her feet didn’t hurt as much as earlier. Logan made sure to stop from time to time and let her drink. Small sips. Only small. But the end of the day it became clear there had been not enough water.
“Shit.” He could see the lights of the settlement in the distance. Sun had set an hour ago. Yet it would be closer to dawn before they reached the place. She wouldn’t last that long. It was hard for him, too, but he would manage. His healing took care of dehydration up to a certain point, and that point was far ahead. He could go on at least two days more without water if needed. That wasn’t the case with Marie. For the last couple of hours she had been nearly delirious, trying to dive in to sand when he wasn’t looking, claiming she could see water, and why was Logan being so stubborn jackass and didn’t let her drink it? Now she was swaying next to him, staring at those same lights, breath rasping and wheezing.
“Drink up, kid.” Drink? Something warm pressed against her mouth. Salty liquid poured in, pulsing flow ebbing fast. She grabbed the thing in front of her face and suckled, trying to get as much of the liquid in her as possible.
“Let go for a sec…” She let go, whimpering slightly, then the thing came back, and again liquid flowed freely. Her taste buds started to react slowly. Metal mingled with salt. Again flow ebbed. She let go and opened her eyes. She lay on the ground, head propped to Logan’s lap. He was cutting his wrist with his claws and pressed the wound to her lips. Blood.
“Don’t get sick over it. We have kilometers to cover before we can get some water.”
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