Broken Orbit | ONC

Rest

              Warmth trickled down my back. I couldn't sit here long, because the blood would freeze. My hand stashed the gun back into my pocket. With a painful grunt, I got to my feet. My glove gripped the arrow tightly. For a moment, I just looked at it. My blood had already frozen on the head.

   The body of the old man was rapidly cooling. His face was already pale. I trudged my way over. Chance trembled in my coat, still shaken from what had happened, as I bent down. A few moments later and I returned to the bike. The man was now empty of weapons, except for the one arrow. I'd given it to him to keep.

   The door to the house was unlocked. I dragged the bike inside and leaned it against the stone wall. Chance yelped when I slammed the door closed, fighting the wind. Immediately, the smell of defecation made my throat seal up. Holding a glove over my nose, I surveyed the room, and saw it was a one-room house. The man had been here for a while and had no bathroom. Instead of going outside, he'd taken care of business in a corner.

   The smell was the worst. I'd seen worse things on the job, but the smell made me want to vomit. I wouldn't be leaving the house yet, though. The shelter from the wind and snow was welcome. I unzipped my coat and allowed Chance to be free. His paws hit the floor. He turned around and wedged himself between my feet, still scared from the gunshot. I lifted a hand to my shoulder and it came back scarlet again. The blood wasn't stopping, so I was going to have to treat the wound myself.

   I had minimal first aid supplies. Besides gauze and anti-bacterial pills, I had nothing. I wouldn't take the pills yet, though. They were surely some of the last remaining on the planet. Besides, taking anti-bacterial on whim wasn't a good idea, anyway. I'd monitor the wound and see if it was trying to get infected before treating it.

   I pulled down my hood and unzipped the top half of my coat. Easing it from my wound, I unwrapped the thicker, new scarf and finally saw the first of the blood as I pulled it to my front. There were two thick sweaters and a windbreaker between my skin and the air, but there was no chance that I'd remove those. Even out of the wind, it was still ten degrees Fahrenheit in this building.

   With most of the scarves pulled off of my face, Chance looked fascinated. He stood on his back legs and his front paws reached for my knees. I looked down, curious, until I realized he was confused. He'd never seen my face. As far as he knew I smelled like his friend, but I didn't look like him. My shoulder throbbed as I bent down to pick him up. I held him against my chest, letting him get a good look at my face.

   Chance eventually wagged his tail and licked the underside of my chin. The unexpected warmth made me flinch. I rubbed his ear. He nibbled on my fingers. During my time walking, I hadn't realized that my scruff had been growing in. It was hardly more than a thick fuzz, but now that I realized it was there, it itched. With scarves on, it was going to bother me. Hopefully the arrows the man had in this house were sharp enough to act as a razor. I was going to have to cut this hair off.

              Setting him back down, I rifled through my satchel and procured the bandages. There were two rolls and about five sticky patches. I cleaned off the blood and put a sticky patch on it. With no painkillers, this wound was going to hurt me for weeks. I pulled my coat back on and pulled the hunting knife from the sheath on my hip. I thumbed the edge, thinking. It was definitely sharp. After examining the arrowhead from the man's quiver, I determined that the arrowhead would be harder to handle.

    Some time later and a fire crackled in the middle of the room. The roof had enough gaps to let the smoke out. The fire sat on the tin to protect the floor. I set out the glass bottles and bottoms in a circle around flames. With a can of beans sitting nearby and a blanket set out for Chance, I pulled out the knife.

    It took roughly an hour. My hands were cold and the gloves hindered my stability. An hour later and my face was mostly clean-shaven. There were a few knicks here and there. I put the knife back. The beans were warm enough to eat. Chance ate his share from his bowl as I finished mine. By the time I was done, he'd settled beside my crossed legs and curled into a tight ball. I rested my hand on his small back. He was still so small.

   The fire simmered for most of the night. We slept close to it. I slept in all of my clothes and under the blanket. Chance wedged himself in the crook of my arm. His small breaths hit my cheek once in a while. I slept awkwardly on my side to avoid hurting my arm, so when I awoke, my neck hurt.

   It was an uneventful day. I ate breakfast, packed my things, and bundled up to leave. For a while, I studied my map. According to it, I should reach my brother's hometown in a few weeks. My pace wasn't a fast one but it wasn't too slow, either. If I kept it consistent, I'd be there soon. I'd already been walking for weeks. The Equator itself was months away.

   I haven't been able to communicate with Doran in weeks, what if--?

   No. I won't think about that.

   Before leaving my hometown, I'd studied the various places that the Ark could be. If it were real, it would have to be in a place where contractors could get supplies quickly. A big city, preferably inland. After some thinking, I'd decided that the only logical place for the Ark to be Quito, Ecuador. It was the best location for such a building. The journey there was treacherous. I'd already covered most of the States, but now I had to get through Mexico and the South Americas, across the small land bridge, and directly to Quito. I was looking at about three months of walking.

   At the rate that I was moving, I wasn't sure that I was going to be able to make it before the cold became unstoppably fatal. 

11,302 total words.