No One Cries For The Lost

IX: Trax

IX

Trax

Day 184

Martin and I spend a good two weeks there at what must've been our twelfth or thirteenth campsite. Making sure that he's fit and at least healed enough to run and move. I remove the stitches after a little while when the wound looks like it's sealed. But Martin's still weak, weaker than he was at least. He lost a lot of blood from that asshole's knife. And it's gonna take him a while to fully recuperate, that much I know. Finding an arctic fox den helps to keep us both alive. I use my hunting knife to take the pack of them down and then tie them down to the sled for safe-keeping. Whenever we get hungry one comes off and gets skinned, gutted and cooked courtesy of my trusty new hunting knife with the serrated blade. We still have two left even now, two weeks later. One of course partially eaten.

Martin and I resume our trek south. Sticking to the plan. We've lost our compass, so direction is something that we have to find by environment. I know the sun sets in the east. It always sets in the east. And I know that the mountains we traverse, the ones we keep mounting, are towards the west. They're always...towards the west. Except for a few of them, but for the most part, mountains here are towards the west.

"There, not so bad, right?" I finish changing Martin's bandages. Should be the last time I'll have to change them before the bandages completely come off, he's ready for it. He's strong enough for it now.

I stand up once I finish clipping the bandages together. Between the thin layer of frost still around even well into the summer and the splintered wood, sitting on that fallen branch does a number on my ass, even with my thick snow pants. Martin is up and ready to go. Jumping and prancing around right after. Of course he is, it's his ball game out here. Not to mention from the breakfast he's had I'm surprised he's not bouncing off the trees. Maybe I went a little bit overboard cooking half of one of the leftover dinner foxes. But hey,we've been on the move for a while now, and we deserve to treat ourselves for once.

"Take it easy, take it easy pal." I tell him as I get to walking again alongside him, "I think I feel one of the fox trying to fight it's way back up."

We start our walk out of the trees and towards the big hill ahead that overlooks a gorgeous and tree-filled valley below. If this is what it takes to keep our route. To keep our destination of south, then so be it. We'll traverse anything in our way. I've already proven it to myself. I haven't had one good night of sleep since I killed that man. John. I didn't even go back to bury his body or take his wallet for identification. I just left him there, and ran to Martin. The man who tries to kill my friend doesn't deserve a burial. Not out here. Out here, there are no rules. And there are no burials. Not for people like John, and not for people like me. Not for the lost anyway. I still shake at the thought of that afternoon. Even if he wasn't exactly a good guy. And if he did have me at his mercy, I still killed a man. I still took a life. And that's something that like most other things in this place, will never leave me even when I go home. If I go home. The thought of seeing my father and brother's faces again. Embracing my brother and all my nephews and nieces again. It keeps me alive. Gives me a little bit of hope that I might still maybe one day...make it out of here alive.

"Neona!" I hear someone call out through the trees. I turn back to look through the forest and try and see who it was, it sounded like Mike, but if it was him, he's gone now.

"Neona," someone else whispers. This one too, sounds like a man's voice, but I recognize it as more like Alex's voice.

"Neona!" I jolt back and fall down to the dirt and sticks on the ground, flat on my ass. I stare at him for a minute, not knowing what to say really after he just scared the living shit right out of me,I try to slow my breathing.