Salvaging Our Fragile Lives Under a Snow-Scoured Earth
Part 1: A post-apocalyptic tale
Looking for another part? Click here for the list.“Lucas, you asshole! Did you eat all the beans?”
From the stained and threadbare mattress in the corner, Lucas gave me his most winning smile. “Sorry, Kyrie. I was reading and not paying attention. So — they’re finally at Rhuidean and they get attacked. Rand had to fight a draghkar and then Moiraine —”
“Shove it!” I barked, but the anger had gone out of my voice. “We’re out of credits till tomorrow. Assuming Raine even comes through. That means I have to go forage.”
I strode over to my rucksack to make sure it was well stocked. Hunting knife. Plastic bags and empty containers. Two metal bottles with tight lids. A screwdriver, a rusted can opener. Some vinyl rope. Improvised lockpicks.
No use in taking the risk to explore the outlying buildings and finding myself unprepared.
Too many times early on, we’d hunted for food or lights or Tylenol and hadn’t brought enough containers. We’d had to scramble to find things that were clean enough, light enough. Easy to carry if we encountered unfriendlies and had to run.
