Kenopsia

Cold Trek

A week had passed. The group had stayed at the motel, and a few had gone out scavenging during the day, trying to preserve the bag of canned goods and freeze dried foods they had for a new journey or emergency that would surely happen soon. Even so, the week was spent gaining strength, relaxing, and healing. Spere and Windy were still covered in bruises, but at the least, they didn't bother them much anymore, and Windy could walk on his own again.

After a few more group talks, they decided to leave in the morning. First, to find the young girl that Spere had mentioned. Then, to find the city that survived The Event, if it even existed.

The morning arrived all too quickly for Spere. She'd enjoyed the few anticlimactic and leisurely days with Windy. But, she knew she needed to pack up and get on with the task of finding the young girl. But then what? Did the girl think that the mistress was her mother? What if the mistress was actually a good parent to her? Spere couldn't just kidnap a child.

But something else told her that the child needed rescuing. By something else, I mean the faceless cat, who whispered to her in that moment, "Save her." She sat on the foot of the bed, Windy still asleep, as early morning light shimmered through the broken shards of glass lining the window seal. She glanced back at him, and then stood, stretched, and began organizing items in their packs. Each member of the group had a pack now, full with food, medical supplies, water, and toilet paper. Spere put her gloves in the smallest pocket of her bag. She was eager to use her new found weapon on someone, or something. She'd found herself the prettiest Gladius sword you ever did see. It wasn't a katana, for sure, and didn't wobble in the air and didn't move with the wind when she swung it. But, it was a weapon, and a mighty fine one at that. It was generic and simple, with a short, blunt leather handle, and a thick blade that pointed at the top. It was sharp as can be, and beautiful, without any stains. Yet.

She gently picked it up, admiring the glimmer of sunlight on the blade. Then she sighed, sat it back down on the carpet, and stood to wake up Windy, even though she didn't want to. But they needed to leave, and soon. They'd spent too much time here as sitting ducks, far too close to Stonehenge's town. Which, by the way, was sending out daily scouts to find them. At one point, they almost had, but Spere and Windy had managed to hide, and the rest of the group had been out scavenging.

Now, Spere stood over Windy by the side of the bed, admiring him like she had her sword. Except he was no sword; he was much more important than a weapon. He was much brighter, more stable, and stronger than. Spere almost laughed at that thought. Who was she to compare him to a sword? Her mind worked oddly, it seemed, when it came to Windy. She gently patted his cheek with the back of her hand, but he didn't stir.

So, she tried again, more pressure this time, and he stirred, then, mumbling, "Ow, stop that." She chuckled.

"You've got to wake up. We're leaving today," she said.

"Oh, so soon?" He groaned, drowsily.

Spere chuckled again, "Yes, so soon. We've got people to kill and places to rob."

"And a child to save," he finished. "We're absolutely unstoppable." He lifted himself up from the mattress, and slid over the side stiffly to his feet with ease. "So, is this the last moment we will have alone together?"

Spere turned away, and shrugged, "Maybe for a while. Not that it matters."

"It matters to me," he said, and pulled her close to him by her waist. Spere didn't know what to think. It was all new to her. A thought creeped into her mind. Was it new to him?

She gently pushed him away, "Have you done this before?"

"Woah, Spere, I'm not trying to have sex with you," he said exasperatedly.