Alien Safari

Chapter 3

Hours had passed since it became light. Travis offered to stay behind and look after Douglas. Peter had taken a quick glance at the food store before they left-- the food store that was really just twenty or thirty of those big, red, long fruits. Travis ate one in the morning and threw up part of it later. He didn't feel well.

This is bullshit, Travis thought.

Time passed. Travis wasn't sure how long he sat there, feeling sorry for Douglas, for himself, for Peter and Arthur and Larry. He wasn't sure how long it was until Douglas stirred, coughing into his hand and grunting in pain as he moved. After losing so much blood and energy last night, he'd been sleeping for what was probably ten or twelve hours or more.

Even as he woke up, he was weak.

Travis stumbled over to Douglas and sat down next to the tree his hammock was tied to.

"Hey, buddy," he said, but his voice was weak, without energy or enthusiasm.

"H-hey," Douglas said, a cough interrupting his words. His voice was hoarse. "So, thanks for saving me. You really got it good with that branch. Hopefully it doesn't come around again. It didn't really get any food, so I don't think that it will," Douglas said. He offered a weak grin that died as soon as he tried to fake it. He rolled over and didn't speak.

"Let's hope not," Travis agreed.

An awkward silence settled over the copse, like an unwanted relative visiting. Travis cringed at how quiet it was. The only things he could hear were the wind the sweeping through the trees, the insects and animals chirping and making noise, and Douglas' labored breathing.

Travis got up, making sure to keep Douglas in his sight, and looked around the copse. It was different than it had been just a day ago. There were hammocks strung up between the larger, stronger trees, now. There was a food pile at the bottom of one of the trees, and Travis had heard the adults suggesting to build a smaller hammock for food to keep it off the ground.

It wasn't anywhere near perfect yet, but it was a good start. Travis thought back to when they'd first arrived in this place. It had just been a few days ago, but it seemed so long already.

Travis sat down against the tree next to Douglas.

"Man, this whole situation is so fucked," Travis mumbled.

Douglas was silent in response to that. His hard, quick breathing showed how much pain he was in, though. They'd cleaned the wound, dressed it, and done all they could, but there were no painkillers here. He'd be forced to suffer through weeks or even months on end until the wound fully healed. The pain probably wouldn't go away for a long time.

"Y-yeah, isn't it?" Douglas asked. His hoarse, quiet voice broke out into coughing right after he spoke. Travis rushed to his side, frowning.

"Don't speak if you can't without hurting yourself," Travis said.

"It's fine. We're all going to die anyway," Douglas said.

Travis frowned again, but didn't say anything.

Travis wasn't sure he'd ever seen Douglas like this before. He'd known the boy for barely a year-- he'd met him in the middle of their senior year, and they'd gone to the same college. Douglas had never been the most outgoing, energetic person, but he'd been different than else.

Douglas was actually upbeat and optimistic and quiet in his own way. Travis wasn't sure what had caused it, this depressive episode. He was sure that the loss of his arm was the catalyst, but Travis suspected that it had gone on before that.