Tales from the Garden of Eden (COMPLETED)

Chapter 15

Three days go by like this, walking in silence and me basically doing nothing. He starts talking to me on occasion; the silence must be taking a toll on him. The third morning is different; he seems almost annoyed by my muteness.

"Eden, it's time to get up." I stare blankly at him, these past days he has only gently shaken me awake, then gone to cook me breakfast wordlessly. I don't feel as though he is babying me, for I honestly believe that it's necessary. I can barely feed myself; much less take care of myself.

"I'm serious Eden," He had long since abandoned the terms of endearment, replacing them with my name. If I wasn't responding, why waste the effort? "I need you to help me make some breakfast, and then we need water to wash some of the excess clothes."

"We're not walking today?" I am embarrassed by my raspy voice. I had said nothing for the past two days, and it was apparent in my voice. I was not trapped in my own mind, per say, that was only the first day. The next two days I was very much aware, I just wasn't keen on talking. It seemed fruitless, what was there that I could say? So I stayed inside my mind, walking through the garden of my thoughts. I almost laughed at the thought, thinking of my mind as the garden of Eden, when instead of protection it brought me pain.

He seems a little surprised at my voice also, but answers. "No, we've walked two days in what looks to me like the wrong direction, it would be in everyone's best interest to stay put and wait for help. We need to get out of here now, and getting farther out of the way will only lengthen that. So my decision-sorry for not including you, but can you blame me-is to stay put. It'll conserve energy and multiply our chances of being found."

I nod, seeing his logic and not really wanting to question anything, especially the complete one hundred and eighty degree change from three days ago. But I have no energy to fight him on this, so I give Jack control of the situation; he seems to know what to do more than I. He holds his hand out to me, and my skin tingles from contact. Being the first real contact I've had in days, it almost shocks me to the point of letting go. He only gives me a confused look, and then uses his arms to pull me out of the sleeping bag.

It seems, however, that with human touch came back the conscious feeling of cold. I will say that these past few days have been bliss as I let numbness fill my body. But, as Jack had made clear to me, now was not the time to mourn death. I shiver, allowing my whole body to clench in reaction. Jack notices, and smiles a little. "What are you smiling out?" My voice is still throaty, but better. I swallow a few times, attempting to lubricate my throat.

"Because, these past few days you literally have not had any reaction to any sort of stimuli, I was getting worried." He pulls me close, hugging me tighter than I ever have been before. I smile into his shoulder, not bothering to respond and just savoring the warmth. Of course, we had slept in the same sleeping bag since that first night, when Jack had made the unspoken decision that it would be warmer if we were closer. I would have protested, but I was in no such state to do so, and he was perfectly mannered every night.

I don't pull apart until he does, and the way he looks at me sends shivers down my spine. "I just thank God you are OK. The talking is what made me really worry."

"You mean lack thereof?" My eyebrow is raised; I don't remember any talking going on.

His eyes glaze over in confusion, and he steps back a tiny bit. "No, Eden, I mean you talking to yourself." I only look at him with even greater confusion than him, so he asks, "Do you really not remember? You would mumble and talk to yourself for hours while we were walking. The first day I tried to talk you out of it, but there was nothing I could do."

This time, it is me who jerks back, but I end up on the ground, in the midst of all of the blankets. "I don't believe you. I would remember talking to myself, wouldn't I, Jack?"

He looks almost pained as he crouches down next to me. "Listen, I don't have any proof but I promise you, you would. And I don't think it was necessarily talking to yourself, from the snatches I heard I think you were just saying your thoughts aloud."

I feel deeply disturbed. What kind of a state was I in for my basic functions to stop working properly? Back home, I know my mother would say sentences aloud without realizing it, but nothing as severe as this. I shake my head, I'm not doing that anymore, so why worry too much about it?

So, once again he helps me up to my feet, and then I walk out of the tent, head held high for an imaginary crowd, cheering for my recovery. Outside, it is still dark, letting me know it is just after dawn, but now that we are staying here for an indefinite period of time, that doesn't really matter.

We don't have any pots so cooking has become difficult for us. Jack came up with the idea of keeping everything in their aluminum packaging, and instead of boiling whatever product or heating it with a camping stove-an item lost when Sebastian went missing-we made a netting of crisscrossed branches. As I transfer the grits into the makeshift pan to heat up, I can feel a gaze on the back of my neck. Without turning, I know it is Jack, but I do any way.

He is smiling at me, a motion that stops my heart. It has almost been four days since I've seen it, and even though I haven't realized it, I missed it. His teeth gleam, and against all odds look whiter against the whiteness of the snow. His eyes, creased in the sides from years of smiling, really are what captivate me.

Jack walks forward and places a gloved hand on my back. "I'm going to get some water from the river-it's a thirty second walk that way," He points to his left. "Call me if you need anything." When I make no objection, he heads off, water bottle in hand. I watch him go, suddenly warm inside that nothing has happened to him and that we are safe for the time being. Right now, I am not looking for promises for the future.

The grits are ready before he gets back, so I take my share out of the foil-a messy task, but as the thought of food suddenly fills my mind, I don't mind. I dig in, letting the not-so-savory grains fill my mouth.

But, along with hunger often comes thirst, and a sudden, insatiable need for water fills me. I look around, and find my water bottle right next to the campfire, neatly stuffed into the snow in an upright position. I smile a little, thinking of how Jack probably did that with the thought of me in mind. Had he been doing this the entire time?

Guilt floods me, along with embarrassment over my past state, and I take off at a run towards the river.

I try to suppress the thoughts of the last time I went running, and a certain sense of déjà vu fills me as I approach the river. Unlike the last one, this body of water is almost in what could be called a ravine, and Jack is holding on to a branch, using it for support to get back up to the bank. He smiles at me when he sees me, and I wonder how I stood not seeing that these past few days. "Are you getting something to drink? OK, you gotta be careful, it's slippery." He proceeds to tell me exactly how to get down, but I wave him off.

"Jack, I have common sense, I know how to handle myself." I ignore his doubtful gaze and clamber down, keeping on hand firmly on the tree branch, and two feet on mostly-dry rocks. The last thing I need would be to fall in.

Once Jack sees that I am alright, he turns and walks back to the camp, with the promise of warm water when I get back. I smile, and dip my thermos in the small hole in the ice that Jack had made, only to find that mine is too thick to fit in.

I reach a shaky leg out to the river, attempting to break the ice to make a bigger hole. When it doesn't budge, I decide to place my whole weight on it-it wouldn't break under my stomp, so why would it break with the weight of my leg?

I am too heavy, that is why it breaks. A resounding crack sounds all around me and all too quickly I am screaming in shock, falling towards the now open water. Its icy hands start to grab me, suffocating me with