Broken Orbit | ONC

Basement

              I didn't know why I was surprised. Perhaps, after that discussion, I'd hoped that she'd changed. She actually sounded emotional. It had made it harder to view her as a killer. She'd promised not to bother me, but apparently she didn't count robbing me blind as a bother. That satchel had all of my water and food. The bike was my transportation. Tonya had taken everything that wasn't on my person. Only my backpack, sleeping bag, gun, and tin was left. Anything that she could take without bothering me, she had.

   Now, not only was I reduced back to a trudge, but I also had no food. Finding food this late into the Final Winter was going to be difficult. The bag had canned beans, dried fruits and vegetables, dozens of granola bars, and packs of jerky. It would have lasted me and Chance for weeks. Now I had to hope that I could find food in abandoned buildings. Killing wildlife wasn't an option, because anything that wasn't an Artic animal was dead.

   I didn't let myself sit in frustration. That was wasted time. My stomach rumbled as I began to pack my things. Maybe if I was lucky, Tonya hadn't gotten to much of a head start. There was a slim chance I'd be able to catch her. She didn't have a map. Therefore her route was going to be a rough estimation south. I could cut corners. I needed that food. Chance needed that food.

   My shoulder throbbed painfully. I briefly tested the wound to make sure it wasn't infected before realizing my first-aid stuff was gone. It'd been in a small pouch in the satchel. That was far worse than missing food. If my shoulder got infected, I was as good as dead. I had to get that bag.

   Chance returned after relieving himself and sat at my feet, his ears perked upright and eyes wide. His tail wagged. My heart sank when I realized he was waiting for his breakfast. We'd followed this routine every morning. I'd wake up, he'd go use the forest bathroom, and once I was mostly packed, I divided breakfast. He'd followed his steps and knew he deserved food. I stared at him, terribly guilty. He was going to be hungry for several hours. Pursing my lips, I rifled through my bag, praying I had something in it. Anything to make him stop giving me that look.

   At the very bottom of the bag, I found a pack of old granola. It was half-empty. I'd apparently opened it and then forgotten about it, likely early in my travels – before I got organized. I pulled out the bag. Chance's tail wagged. Knowing this was the only food I had until I found more, I poured a small handful. It'd be enough to keep him satisfied for a few hours. I'd been lucky enough to have enough food to keep him full and growing healthily, but not now.

   Chance ate the granola straight from my glove. He seemed to realize that he'd finished much too soon. Looking up at me, his ears turned forward again. I pursed my lips and rolled up the bag, having eaten none.

   Within half an hour, I'd packed my things up. Tin folded, bag rolled, and pack over my shoulders, I tucked Chance back into my coat. My legs began to burn from walking within an hour. I found the road and trudged through the snow, knowing I had to go quickly. I had to find the city within several hours of nightfall to have time to search for food. My stomach rumbled painfully the whole walk.

   By the time the city came into sight, my gut was trying to eat itself. I hardly ate enough when I did eat – having eaten nothing in nearly twenty-four hours made it much worse. Chance was hungry, too. I felt his tummy rumble a few times. He'd whine occasionally, wondering why he was hungry. He'd never needed more food when he was with me.

   From the first building I found, I went through each structure methodically, searching for any scraps of food. All of the houses on the main road had already been ransacked. Over and over, I smashed windows with my crowbar and crawled through, explored every room, and left through the same window when I found nothing.