The Runaways

Chapter 6

It took Cory weeks to feel like his old self. By then we were skinny from hunger, because, as hard as I tried, I was quite bad at hunting. I gathered plants during the day, but it wasn't enough. When things got really bad, we ate a little bit of what little food we had brought with us.

We stayed in the shelter by the stream, after the disaster when Cory tried to get water and almost pulled his stitches out. If I had been good enough, I could've gotten fish from there, but I just couldn't seem to get the hang of it.

Cory decided to get back up and moving in late July. He knew that if we were to survive any of this, we would have to get hunting,

“Are you sure you're up to this?” I asked Cory, who was standing with his bow and arrows by the fire that I had made this morning.

“I have to be, don't I?” he asked.

“No. I can gather today. I found a small strawberry patch that I could pick some berries from,” I offered.

“We need meat, Ally. Just look at us! Our clothes hang loosely at our sides...we need to get some fat back on our bodies,” Cory reasoned.

“But I want to help,” I whined.

Cory shook his head. “Fine. Pick your strawberries. I'll be out hunting. I'll check in every time I shoot something. If you get hurt, try to get back as quick as possible. I'll try to check in as much as I can. I'm going to be hunting a lot of meat. When I was in Boy Scouts the troop leader taught us how to make a smoker out of plain old things found in the woods. If we smoke some of it, we will have more of it for a later date,” he said.

“Alright. I'll try to check back here often too,” I assured.

“Okay. I'll see you soon,” Cory promised.

“Stay safe,” I instructed. I stood up farther on my toes and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “For good luck,” I said.

He tried to keep a straight face, but his eyes revealed that he was pleased. I ignored it, then turned. I grabbed an old potato sack that we had the sense to bring, and went to go get the strawberries.

The trek to get them wasn't easy. I had to cross the stream, then follow it until I got to a small clearing. From there, I walked through the clearing to the other side, and had to carefully cross a slightly shallow, but bigger and rockier stream. The walls of that stream were high and rocky, so I had to climb down one side and then up the other. They were only a five minute walk from there.

When I got there, the plants were heavy with the sweet red fruit. I filled my bag with over half the fruit, leaving the ones that were not quite ripe. I even ate a few, indulging myself, but reminding myself that I mustn't eat too many.

On the way back, I was climbing up the other side of the stream, when I placed my foot on a loose rock, and slipped, falling a few feet. The strawberries were luckily on the other side of the stream, safely on the bank. Upon impact on the rocks, every wisp of air left my lungs, and I laid there, struggling to breathe. The rocks I landed on cut into my back, and I could feel a hot wetness start to spread across it.

When I was finally able to sit up, I twisted myself around to inspect my back. There was a puncture wound, like I had been stabbed, from one of the pointier rocks. It was bleeding steadily, but not too heavy, so I carefully and slowly climbed back up. I struggled to get back to camp, especially with the heavy sack of strawberries. By the way it stabbed when I moved a certain way, I was sure that there were rock fragments in my back.

When I got back, Cory was there, waiting. His face was lined with worry, and his brow wrinkle deepened when he saw the insane amount of blood that stained the back of my shirt.

“What happened?” he demanded immediately.

“I slipped and fell onto a very pointy rock. I think I have some rock fragments in my back. Will you help me clean it up?” I asked, but even before I could finish, he was getting the first aid kit and the quilt.

“Lay on your stomach on this,” he said, spreading out the quilt next to the fire. “I'm going to cut your shit in the back so you can stay covered and that I can tend to it also,” Cory instructed.

“I only have one more shirt. I shouldn't waste this one just because-”

“Would you like to be topless in front of me?” Cory interrupted.

“No,” I admitted with a sigh.

“Then lie down and let me cut the shirt in the back,” he demanded.

I did as I was told. He cut the shirt, then washed the wound with some water. I had been right about the rock fragments in my back. They were there. Cory used a pair of tweezers to retrieve them. It was the worst pain I had ever experienced in my life.

When he was finished, he stepped away to let me put a shirt back on. He then made me sit down with a whole canteen of water and made me drink it until it was empty, and then he filled it up again. He said I hadn't been drinking enough.

While he was making me drink, he showed me everything he shot. Two rabbits and two squirrels, which wasn't the best he could get, but, given the circumstances, it was pretty good.

“You better go lie down,” he suggested after he finished.

“Don't you need some help with dinner?” I asked. He shook his head no. “Are you sure?” I asked.

“You need your rest, Ally. Get some rest. I will let you know when the food is done. I'm going to make the two squirrels and smoke the rabbits,” he said.

“Okay,” I said, then I went inside the shelter, crawled into the confines of my sleeping bag on my stomach, and before I knew it, I was asleep.