Apophis: A Love Story for the End of the World

Chapter Six: Sammy

The next morning came too early. I could hear voices, men's voices, coming from outside of my tent. Next to me my grandmother snored soundly, so I wiggled out of my sleeping bag as unobtrusively as possible so she can continue to sleep. Outside of the shelter of the tent the sun was bright, blinding really, as it bounced off the snow that constantly surrounded us. I really needed to find some sunglasses. My father and Mr. West were already up and there was a fire lit in the place where I'd prematurely snuffed the previous night's campfire.

The memory of my immaturity nagged at me. I didn't know what it was about Nora West that brought out the worst in me. She was attractive and that made me uncomfortable, and she was awfully inept at survival-type skills, but there was no reason for me to be so rude. I mentally promised myself to make an effort to be more mature in the future. We were going to be spending a lot of time together over the next few weeks.

By the time Nora dragged herself out of her tent, the fire was fully formed and I was melting snow for drinking water. Our fathers had left me in charge while they checked the traps my dad had set out the previous night. Frozen water was all around us, but it was nice to be able to start the morning with a full liquid glass of water to fill your hollow belly. It also helped us to not ravenously devour the rest of our food rations.

"Morning," I greeted her, mindful of the silent promise I'd made to myself to be nicer. "How'd you sleep?" I already knew the answer by the look of her eyes. Dark circles were visible under her vibrant aquamarine irises.

"Like crap," she complained. She pulled her ski cap on over sleep-tussled locks. "Is there anymore coffee? I'm going to need a jump-start this morning."

"I'm making water right now," I said, poking at the copper kettle sitting in the hottest part of the fire. "It'll be a few minutes though. I don't have a fancy solar-powered hot plate like you."

"I wish I would have thought about a solar-powered air compressor," she openly complained. "I don't know why it died so quickly. The batteries were brand new."

"Cold temperatures decrease battery life," I said. "You should keep your batteries in your sleeping bag with you at night."

"Oh." Her pretty features crinkled in thought. "You don't suppose we'll be stopping at a store soon so I can get more batteries?"

"I wouldn't hold my breath," I snorted. The way she'd phrased her question made it sound like a routine errand to Costco. "My dad's philosophy is to stay as far away from cities as possible."

"But we've got to replenish our supplies sometime, right?"

"Nope." I shook my head. "Besides, nothing guarantees that bandits haven't already looted every store we come across. It's safer to stay away."

"We're going to die," Nora said stubbornly.

"We've got all the water we could ever want," I pointed out, "and we can hunt. My dad has small animal traps. That's where they are right now – checking on the traps he set out last night." I didn't like my dad's plan any more than Nora did, but I wasn't going to tell her that.

She sat down heavily next to me, looking sour. I regarded her out of the corner of my eye. She seemed to be massaging the lower half of her face.

"Are you okay?"

"Not that you actually care." She made a pained face. "My jaw hurts," she complained. "I was blowing up my air mattress most of the night. It kept deflating. I think it has a leak."

"Your breath is different from the air that comes from an air compressor." I grabbed the handle of the copper pot with a gloved hand and shook the kettle, slurring around the slowly melting snow. "The moisture in your breath is warm and when it cools, the molecules shrink, causing the air mattress to deflate, too."