SOULS INTERTWINED | m. fishbach

one

March, 2019. Somewhere in rural Oregon

The weather was finally warming up.

You'd been squatting in a log cabin for the last few weeks of winter; a small space with no bathroom and barely even a bedroom. Its walls, floor, and ceiling were made purely of wood, but at least there was a kitchen and a fireplace. Seàn had let you take the room, though the only privacy given to you was an old flannel blanket nailed to the top of the doorframe.

Whoever used to own this place must've been long gone, since there was nothing to signify that anyone had been near the cabin in a while. You were glad, though, because the end of the winter had been harsh, more vicious than either you or Seàn had expected. Oregon hadn't been treating you as well as you would've hoped, especially after everything that happened in Nebraska.

Traveling this far has taken quite a toll on you. This trip, nonstop, was meant to take about two days total, but there was no way that either of you would be able to endure that kind of distance without stopping, regardless if you'd been able to take a car or if you walked. No matter how sure you were about the destination.

You and Seàn had started this trip almost a year ago, from what you could recall. Keeping track of the days got harder and harder as time went on, and you had half a mind to stop doing it. There was also the concern of the fact that you didn't have any idea as to where you were. Sure, you knew that you were still in Oregon, but that was pretty much it.

Things in the woods were safe. It was nice here, but you knew you couldn't stay. You've already thinned out a lot of the game in the area, though it wasn't like there was much there to begin with. Seàn had been gone since early this morning to gather up whatever supplies he could to begin the trek back to the highway. A small herd had driven you off the roads a few months back, leading you straight to the cabin you were in.

Right now, you were gathering whatever you had in the cabin that seemed necessary to take. You and Seàn both had one extra set of clothing, four canteens, a few final cans of perishables, a single vial of iodine drops, and a few weapons between you. Seàn took the compound bow and pistol with him this morning, and the only thing he left behind was the knives. One of them was yours and had been since Ohio. It was almost always sheathed at your hip, and if not, you made sure it was nearby. The other belonged to Seàn, but he felt he wouldn't need it this morning. You laid it on top of his canvas pack, a long bag that was surely used by hikers before all this.

You did your best to evenly distribute the weight between the two of you, splitting up your measly supplies, and packing them into the bags you would be carrying. As you lifted your bag, a frown settled over your face as you noticed how light it was. Sure, it would be good for traveling, but that meant you didn't have much food - or much of anything - left. You just hoped that there was a town nearby.

It was nearing mid-afternoon when Seàn came back, carrying a few rabbits with him. The worn look on his face told you not to say anything as you skinned and cut up the food, grimacing your way through it. Seàn cooked up the food by the fire while you cleaned the arrows. Looking up from the food, he turned his head to where you sat at the table. "Where are we going this time?"

"Not exactly sure," you hummed, wiping a once-clean rag over the arrow's shaft. "But we'll need to find a town to raid. We don't have much left."

He only nodded. After a long pause, he looked back at the food as he told you, "Maybe we'll get a sense of where we're going, find a map or something."

"Maybe."

"Or, we could just stay there. Find a town, settle, live. "

You huffed, anger restricting your chest. Or was it fear? "You know we can't do that. Not alone, and not after-"