After the Plague

XVII. The End

The entire kettle glowed red. At some point during the night it had fallen off of its rack over the fire and lay fallow in the burning embers, heating up the metal to a point where it had grown soft and malleable. The water inside had escaped long ago, disappearing through the top in the form of steam.

Besides the fire, Francis lay passed out on the ground. Kira had nestled in between tree roots several meters away, and been determined to stay awake for the entire night, but simply could not bring herself to it. The past day had been too much for her to handle, and even in her steadfast mind she was in capable of even considering walking another step. Night had been relentless with how quick it had come on, and she fell victim to it without being able to put up much of a fight. It had been a given that Francis would have slept the night, the old man could barely walk in his normal state, but Kira had wanted to stay strong. There was no telling exactly who or what would be after them, so falling asleep could have been the worst possible option. But, sleep was an enemy far greater than the guns that were pointed at her.

She shot a glance at the still sleeping Francis. His breathing was dull and lazy. Of course he didn’t keep watch. She could hardly believe that the old man had so little will to leave. She had given him a huge opportunity to escape, and he had lazily fallen into it.

After the miles they had covered the previous day, she was surprised that he had been able to keep up. Kira had had no desire to exchange words with him. As long as he can get me to a safe place, that’s all that matters. She had only stopped because she figured Francis needed a rest. If she had been by herself, she would have walked long into the night without stopped.  But after a night’s sleep, I’m ready to move. I feel good. 

Despite the cloud hanging over her head, Kira had the best sleep of her entire life. It was dreamless, but heavy and refreshing, and when she finally opened her eyes some hours later, she felt revitalized, despite her strained and aching muscles. Her mind was clear and ready to formulate the next best step, something which she hadn’t done in the whirlwind that had been the past several days.  

She pulled a nutrition bar from her back and threw the wrapper in the fire. She watched it crumble and contort under the intense heat as she nibbled on the bar. After slowly eating only half, she found that she didn’t have the appetite to stomach the rest of it.She wrapped the remaining bar in a handkerchief from her pocket and lay it on the ground next to Francis, allowing him to sleep. I’ll pack and we’ll move as soon as he wakes up.

Judging from the position of the sun in the sky, she guessed that it couldn’t be more than seven or eight in the morning. We have time. She began to gather the few belongings that she had emptied from her pack; the blanket, a few bars. She removed the red hot kettle from the fire and dipped it in the river, where it steamed wildly, and then set it on a rock to cool. 

Once her pack had been tied up, she moved to Francis’s equipment. The old man had emptied out almost everything onto the ground, which was beyond her. Lazy old coot. She groaned as she bent down and began to stuff it back into the sack.

The brush in the distance rustled softly, but it was enough to catch her attention. She paused packing and crouched down. A distinctly human figure was approaching in the woods some distance away. 

It could just be a local.

Carefully, she moved close to the ground behind a tree, out of sight from the approaching pursuer. Just a local. They grew closer and closer, until Kira peered out slightly from the tree, confident that she would be able to make out who it was.

Goodwin. 

The attractive bounty hunter was just feet from Francis, who was still sleep.