Two Worlds (closed for DeathsKnight)

Eydis

My head hurt.
My left leg hurt.

The first children born after the Big Blast -what ever the Blast had been, it had destroyed society all over the world: killing about 60% of the population at once, most of them in the cities, polluting crops resulting in the deaths of many more, now in the countryside and ruining all electronics beyond repair- had grown to adulthood a few years ago.

At first the survivors had used cars to get to places they thought safe and to scavenge food in the cities –literally fighting to survive, people even set fire to gas stations or supermarkets to prevent others from using them, thus destroying whole neighborhoods- but they ran out off gas around five years after the Blast. Most people left the depilated cities and towns and found a place to live in the country side. Some founded new communities, some trusted only their family and friends and lived in small and smallest groups.

We, the new generation looked upon the good old times and the people still reminiscenting them as mythology and dreamers. We had known no other life than one of hard work, periods of abundance and scarcity.

I am part of a large family, most of them blood-related to each other. My mom, pregnant with my eldest sister, and mom’s best friend had managed to flee the city they lived in on the day of the Blast. Actually they had been on a two-day trip and simply hadn’t returned to the city. The two women got raped on the third day. They had entered a small mall to get food but became prisoners of six men who were able to hold the mall for eight days until they got attacked. In the ensuing melee my mother, her friend Irene and Frank, one of the attackers, got away. Irene never was able to tell if she got pregnant with her first child before the Blast, during the time in the mall, or by Frank.

The three of them managed to find a farm where they lived happily for two years. Now five, and both women pregnant by Frank, they escaped a fire –no-one knew if it was started by a lightning bolt or by a candle or the cooking fire, all what they were able to tell was: they grabbed the children, a few clothes and some food, threw it all in the old cart in the stable, reigned the horse to the cart, just before the fire jumped to the stable, threw two plastic buckets, some reigns hanging by the door, some ropes too into the cart while they maneuvered it out off the stall and looked from a little distance how their home burned down. Their two dogs waited with them in the cart, and three cows and a calf. The cow with the calf wandered of around morning, and one of the others was dry, and wandered off a little later, before the mooing of the last cow and the soft wailing of my sister waked them out off their shock and Frank got a bucket laying at the pump and started to milk the cow while mom bound it to the cart.

All the thinking I just had done hadn’t bettered my headache, but I nearly had forgotten the pain in my leg. Slowly I got to my feet. And doubled over as my stomach cramped. Not again! I thought this had passed. There was nothing in my stomach anymore, and the dry heaves shook my body. I picked up three of my arrows and put them back in the quiver over my back. I needed water. I needed warmth.

Step by clumsy step I moved away from the wild pig I had feasted upon two days ago. I had thought it the right revenge, since the darned thing had grazed my left shine with his tuskers when I knelt down beside it to gut it.

I had been hungry. Four days of hunting on a nearly empty stomach does that to you. I know I should have known better. I should have cut his throat before I attempted to gut it. Wild pigs are tough. But supplies were low at home and I had decided the four of us would not take any with us. I wished I hadn’t been out here alone, but not having killed anything on the first day, we split up. I hoped Xander, or Lea, or Dorian had more success than I had. I hoped one of them, or two, had brought home a deer. Or at least some rabbits or squirrels.

I moved along until I stumbled over a little spring. Eagerly I gulped up as much of the water as I could before my eyes closed. Awful stomach cramps woke me up and I soiled myself. It took a while until I was able to drink some more and clean myself somewhat with a wad of moss. I had to get warm. I had to get up and get out off the forest and hope the sun would give me some force back. I was too far away from home to go there.

We wouldn’t starve. There always was the emergency supply. Enough to last for four weeks. It should have been enough for twelve weeks, but hunting had been bad the last autumn. The fields hadn’t given us as much produce as in other years either. Only the two apple trees Frank had planted beside the cave were full of fruits. It was just one of the bad years. Not an evil one, no-one would die from hunger, but two old people, three middle-aged ones, four young adults and five kids between two and fourteen needed a lot of food.

Warmth touched my skin. Not from above, from in front of me. The sun. I had reached the seam of the forest. Slowly I moved through the underbrush at the border. I stood on an old field. A very old field. No-one had harvested it in many years. The wheat had grown wild. I raked a few handfuls of stalks together and sank down on the little heap.

Far in the distance I saw some ruins. Nothing I hadn’t seen before, but these ruins I had never seen. I had no idea were I was. A cramp made me hug my knees and I soiled myself from above and below before my eyesight got narrower and narrower until I couldn’t see anything anymore.

Chris Edwards

He had only a vague idea of how the world became as it was, he had been born a few years after the Day, of course there was recollections, diaries, video blogs and folders about what happened, Chris knew about it all, but he just didn't feel the need to know. Chris was a person who was driven by what he found interesting and of course survival. His "family" was a group of millitary personel who survived by taking shelter in a bunker, the moment that the warning sounded.

Chris grew up learning how to survive in a harsh world, it was kill or be killed and he had been taught as much the moment he was old enough to understand. By the time he was seven, calamity struck the bunker. A fever struck down old and young with impunity, the only people to survive were those who secured themselves in a different part of the bunker. This included Chris' father, sister, brother and Chris himself. In the following years accidents in and outside the bunker actually started to kill off more of the survivors. This led to Chris' accident which almost cost him his own life.

Three of them was busy fixing one of the blast doors which was stuck, then the door actually manage to break loose from its moorings and came crashing down. One of the jagged moorings caught Chris on the shoulder and tore open his arm down to his fore arm. Chris managed to survive the consulting blood loss, the fever, shock and minor infections didn't manage to kill him off. The final death to basically reduce the inhabitant of the bunker to one, was a hunting incident in which his brother became the victim of a jungle cat.

Chris now lived alone, he looked after the bunker as best he can, making certain that all the life support systems are kept working and that his food stocks remained as filled as possible. That was why he was on a slight rise over looking a watering hole, patiently waiting for the deer he had spotted earlier to return for water. He had to hunt to gain fresh meat and this was the part he enjoyed, staying motionless, waiting for a target.

Eydis

A light shone in my eyes. A strong light, intensifying my headache. It was the early morning sun, burning down on me.

I needed water. I reached for the bottle on my belt, and found an empty pouch. Sitting up, thinking I had put it beside me, I felt the leather of my leggings breaking free from my skin. No bottle was to be seen. No water to be had. I was sure I filled it at the spring though.

My stomach was feeling better, and absentmindedly I peeled some grains out off an ear. Just three, and well chewed it would be alright. I needed to make a fire, and to burn a big log so that I would have some charcoal to eat. That would stop my bowels from expelling everything I put into my body.

It was a shame I had lost my plastic bottle. We didn't have many anymore. Even they had broken over time. Dana, my eldest sister and her husband had become very good at making watertight sacs out off the bladders of the animals we hunted and the skins of the smaller ones, and the bladders of the goats we butchered. Not that we had many goats, they were hard to come by, most of the original stock hadn't survived the Blast, my mom had told me. Those things were too fragile to transport water during a hunting trip though, and the clay pots Frank made much too heavy.

To get a log I would have to go back into the forest. That would cost a lot of force, and I hadn't much force left in my body. The food-poisoning or the infection in my leg, or both, had nearly killed me. I twisted straw into some tight bundles and hit my flints against each other. I had lost my tinder too. I managed to get a fire going though. The straw burned quickly into nothingness. Just in time I threw some ears on and managed to scorch some grains. They would have to do, since I had no charcoal.

Slowly I got to my feet. I wouldn't be able to find back to the spring. I had to find an other water source. Maybe there was a well close by the ruins.

Standing up my leggings felt really awful, wet and sticky at some places or hard as wood. Quickly I opened the knot and slipped them off. With handfuls of straw I cleaned them, and myself as good as possible.

I was so weak this little task nearly tired me out. The sun felt good on by bare legs though and so I didn't put the leggings back on, I just pulled them through my belt.

The wound on my leg looked bad. A red streak pointed away from it, climbing up my leg. So I had blood-poisoning as well. I needed medicine. At home was enough, but it would take me at least three days if not more, to get there. Too long.

Warily, my eyes wide open to not miss anything which could help me, I made my way through the field. A lot of rabbit droppings and those of mice. Every few steps I found some. This field must be their paradise. I would lay out some snares as soon as I had water. There must be water close by. I picked up a dried cow pat. Since I had no basket or backpack I took the arms off my vest and weaved them through the legs of my leggings and put the cow pat in it. And lots of ears.

Walking along I eat some more grains. My stomach felt okay. My intestines grumbled a lot, but I got no cramps of the food. I would have to be very careful with the water. Not gulp it down, just sip.

The ruins seemed almost as far away as when I started out. They looked big, bigger than I had imagined them to be.

Suddenly I halted. A green plant, red lines on the thick spiky leaves, just what I needed. I sat down beside it, and cut stripes out off the leaves. Chewing them I knew why my mom always pounded it to a mush with a stone. It was bitter. Very bitter. Spitting the mass in my hand I opened the wound on my leg with my knife and smeared the pulp over it. I swallowed once and put an other stripe in my mouth. Two times more and my mouth felt numb. So that was why we only got the tea diluted and sweetened with honey. Carefully I cut the piece I had taken the stripes of out off the leave and put it over the pulp, with some braided straw I bound it to my leg.

It would help. Not soon, but it would help.

On I went. Until my vision narrowed again. I took a little rest, and noted the suns much farther on the horizon when I opened my eyes again. Much more wearisomely I got back up my feet and continued my way. A bright green patch close by the ruins caught my eye. There I had to go. My gaze fixed on a blooming tree I put my feet in front of each other until my vision got all blurry and I had to bend over and lean my hands on my knees. Once I lifted my head and looked at the beautiful tree again. Then I sat down and looked at it until it disappeared into a tunnel.

Chris Edwards

There wasn't much else to do when you wanted to be able to sneak up on the animals these days, you had to become part of their world, their surroundings, you had to move enough to immitate the moving foilage you used as cover, but you had to be aware of moving too much and then stand out like a sore thumb. This meant you had to stay awake and alert of all the changes around you, the wind, the shadows, the movement of animals.

Through the scope I saw a few rabbits, squirrels and even a fox visit the watering hole, then just as the sun started to head for the horizon and in the bunker a faint click would sound through the hallways, the deer came into view. I allowed for wind, made certain of the markers I had made of broken twigs. My finger touched the trigger and I waited, the patriarch was not the one I wanted, the second deer which came into view still had a year or two to go, the group filed passed the crosshairs of the rifle. Finally my finger squeezed slightly and the rifle gave a suppressed cough.

The old bull fell dead to the ground like he had been pole axed, the deer immediately pricked their ears, then the smell of blood reached them and as graceful as ghosts they fled. I rose to my feet and slung the weapon over my shoulder. Rushing down the small rise I covered the 600 feet in a short time, crouching down, I used my knife to slit the old buck's throat, it wasn't really to kill him as he was dead, it was more to allow him to bleed out. The head was basically intact, the round went clean through and left me with some material to work wirh and of course meat.

The biggest job was to get the meat home, so I pulled the carcass over to a tree and used the nylon rope to hoist it up. Quickly removing the skin and intestines, I cut branches from a thorn bush and covered the ground under the carcass. Wrapping the intestines in the skin, I prepared and started my way home. I smiled to myself as I walked, other humans would have been terrified if they saw me now, a bloody bundle over one shoulder, a rifle over the other and dressed in a ghillie suit which would have made me look like I had been made out of twigs and grass...I paused and sniffed, something smelled different. I looked at the rise with the tree under which I had waited. The breeze came from that direction, placing my bundle down, I slung the rifle from my shoulder, the sun was close to the horizon now, I cocked the rifle and followed the strange scent.

Eydis

There was darkness around me, which was very strange, since I still felt the sunlight on my bare legs. As much as I strained my eyes, I wasn't able to see more than some blurry wheat stalks around me. I wondered what had woken me up.

A cough? Was one of the twins ill? They both had colds quite often. Oh well, mom, or someone else would look after them. I moved into a slightly more comfortable position and decided to give my eyes a rest.

There! Movement that didn't belong. In the grass. I slung the rifle back across my back, drew my pistol and moved forward at a crouch, pistol in a ready position, both hands wrapped firmly around the grip, the barrel trained on the spot where the movement were, of course my eyes kept sweeping for movement, the surprise attack by the cat on my brother fresh in my mind.

Bare skin. It took me a while to figure out what it was. I blinked and lowered the weapon, moving cautiously closer. It was a female, I scanned the area once more, I didn't see anything else to indicate that it was a trap. Keeping the weapon at the ready I moved slightly closer,

"Hey."

No reaction, I moved closer,

"Can you hear me? If you move I'll shoot."

No reaction, I scanned her, it was clear that she had a bad run-in with something...or something like that. I lowered the pistol once more and holstered it, as I knelt down I realized that her eyes were open. Open, unfocused and bright with fever, her lips were moving, but I could not make out what she was saying,

"Hey, I'm not gonna hurt you."

She spoke again and still it made no sense, it reminded me of the fever as it ran ragged through my friends and family, as it sank its claws into me...well there was only two things to do. Leave her or take her and help her. I was thinking of rather leaving her, then I noticed the plant she had used on her leg, the hastilly crafted rope to bind it, the leather, pouches...perhaps she could teach me what to do with the skins of the animals I hunted, perhaps she had even more to teach me. I started to speak to her, but realized that she must have passed out, I lifted her up and started to make my way back to the bunker

Eydiis

Blood rushed to my head. It felt heavy and it dangled.

Something was moving. I was moving, but I wasn't moving. Something was moving me. With a sigh I acknowledged this fact, pleased my brain was working well enough to sort out what was going on. I still didn't know what was moving me, but that wasn't too important since I wasn't being dragged over the ground like one of the big cats would do. Not in the way two or three carrion-hounds would do either. No-one was tugging at my hands or my feet, i wiggled them to be sure.

I thought Dorian, or Xander had come to get me. But something with the image in my mind was wrong. I had seen Dorian coming towards me, but then he had changed. The sunlight behind him had made his face disappear. Or the sunlight in his face had made it disappear, I wasn't sure which of the two had happened. Then I thought it was Xander.

He seemed to have grown a bit. And suddenly he looked like the Green Man mom had told me about when I was too little to stroll into the forest on my own. I was sure I told him to leave me alone, that I promised him I wouldn't go into the forest on my own anymore.

The Green Man had told me he wouldn't hurt me though. He had a nice voice. I always thought the Green Man would only growl and grumble. He had nice hands too. Strong hands. And muscles. I felt muscles moving under his foliage. How strange. One of his arms was clamped around my legs. He huffed a little bit. He smelled good. Like a new bed made out of lots of pine twigs, straw and hay with lots of herbs and flowers in it. But maybe he wasn't a Green Man, maybe he was ...

"Treebeard?"

Chris Edwards

"Treebeard?"

I paused and stared at her, of course she was not awake, but the name was spoken much more clearly than the others she had uttered. It probably didn't mean anything, so I shrugged and continued to strip out of my ghillie suit. After that I decided to quickly go out and get the skin and intestines to get at least that parts in the cooler. Luckily it wasn't too far and I managed to get back within the half hour mark.

After making sure that the bunker was secured and the skin and intestines in the cooler, I got the medical supplies and went into the quarters in which I had placed the half-naked female. She was still delirious and seemed to float in and out of conciousness. I opened the case and settled the large basin of water on the stand next to the bed, adding disinfectant to the water I went to work.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I had tossed out the water and have settled in cleaning the intestines, periodically checking in on the female. From her build, complexion and several scars, she had to be one of the survivors who lived from the land and didn't really have much in the form of technology. Of course they also had a skill-set which had gone to waste in the bunker as we practically had most of the tech that we needed.

I got up and dried my hands, walking to the room and entered, it seemed that the infection had been temporarily halted, I had to cut away a bit of flesh and clean out the wound properly, she had squirmed even under sedation and I knew that it had to hurt. But there was no indication that the blood poisoning was moving further, the biotics were busy doing their thing. I moved further to replace the cold compress.

Eydis

Treebeard had gone. A young man had appeared. Nice brown eyes had looked at me.

I was lying on something soft.

It was warm. No sun though, but some kind of harsh, cold light came from a point on the ceiling. I was in a cave. A strange cave, sharp angles were everywhere.

Suddenly a pungent smell filled my nose. A little later someone was cleaning me with nice warm, but awful stinking water. A few drops ran over my mouth, and I eagerly licked them of my lips. Water was water. It tasted disgusting.

I didn't want that stuff on my wound! It would ruin all the good the medicine I had put on it had done! Frantically I tried to push the hands with the warm, soft cloth away from my leg. I was too weak to hinder him from tearing away the bandage I had made. Soothing sounds reached my ears. Treebeard! He was close. If he was okay with this awful water touching my wound, I would be too.

At some point something sharp punctured my arm. On the inside of my wrist. Those darn horseflies were everywhere! I tried to slap it away. Suddenly I fell asleep.

I had some bad dreams. Of the boar I had hunted. It had found me and was mauling away on my leg.

When I woke up, I didn't know where I was. I felt a whole lot better though. I sensed someone was near me. Who? I couldn't place the scent emanating from her/him. It was too clean somehow, had nothing familiar at all. What had happened? Who was this person, where was I? Where was my family? It took me all I had to stay calm and keep my eyes closed. He/she came closer. Placed something cold on my forehead and I caught his wrist before he could pull his hand away. I swung my legs from the bed while sitting up and first pushed, then pulled hard at the arm. With one move I was standing on my legs, and the man was half lying on the bed. I was inside a building. A sharp pain in my wrist made me look at it. Something was in my arm, it was connected to a plastic bag half filled with water. I tore the thing out off my arm and stumbled to the door.

Chris Edwards

As I placed the cold compress on her forehead, her eyes snapped open, even faster was her hand as it grabbed hold of my wrist. OK so she's one of those. I expected to be yanked closer, but instead she shoved, the first step backwards came to an abrupt halt as she yanked me towards her, causing my balance to be completely lost and make me sprawl over the bed. I turned just in time to see her rip the IV drip free and stumble towards the door. I pushed from the bed and with two long steps I caught up with her, wrapping my arms around her waist and pinning her arms to her sides. She struggled, but the infection had left her in no condition to be an actual threat.

Of course a lucky kick to the groin...

I lifted her up off her feet and turned, depositing her back on to the bed, I stepped back, I had to subdue her or she would rip the sutures in her leg. Of course she struggled to get off of the bed, but this time she didn't have the added leverage and momentum which helped her the first time and her resistance crumbled away fast when the needle sank into her upper arm and the anastetic entered her body. I still had to hold her down for a few moments until the drug had done its work. As her body fell limp, I took a breath and shook my head, to think I'd be ending my day like this. I retreived restraints from the storage room and strapped her arms to the bed frame, after replacing the IV, I went back to cleaning the intestines.

Eydis

I hadn't been quick enough! Before I had reached the door the man had caught me again. My arms pinned to my sides by his arms, his hands locked over each other on my stomach, I still tried to break free, knowing I was no match for him now, but the adrenalin surging through my veins made me forget how weak I was for a few moments.

Soon I realized how bad a state I was in. Not even when he lifted me from my feet, I was able to kick him hard.

It felt strange, being pressed against his body and feeling only textile against my bare skin. He wore textile! No leather, no fur, no homespun wool or linen, only factory-made fabric. It had been a long time since I had last seen someone wearing only old, factory made clothes. I wondered where my shirt was, I had made it myself, spun the wool, helped to harvest the flax, and spent hour upon hour after it had rotted long enough to crush the stinking stalks and later to comb the fine fibers. I personally had woven the thinnest woolen thread I had been able to spin into the linen setting on my weaving frame. My sister Marion had sewn it though. She made much nicer, much tinier stitches than I did.

He put me back down on the bed.
A few moments long I tried to get off.
And then he stabbed a needle in my arm and held me down on the mattress. He had a syringe! Frank's had all broken. The needles had. But since he didn't have any old medicines to put in them, we used the plastic bodies to suck venom or pus out off wounds and to spray clean, boiled water or herb potions over and into wounds.

The longest time I felt how something entered my body through the needle and I watched how the fluid level inside the syringe dropped as he pressed the plunger down.

I felt a drowsiness creeping upon me, and with all my might I tried to fight it and him off.

Again I kept my eyes closed. The man should think the medicine had worked. I didn't feel his presence in the room with me though: no sounds of someone else breathing, no fresh whiffs of his scent. Soon though, as soon as I tried to get off the bed, something I felt around my wrists told me he succeeded in what ever he had wanted. Only very slight movements were possible. My arms were bound to the bed. With broad straps. My legs were free though. I ran my right foot over my left leg, and felt some sharp stings as the calluses on my foot hooked on something on the wound. No bandage. With the soft upper side of my foot I tried again. It felt as if he had put stitches in it. And it certainly felt a lot bigger than it had been, even if I deducted the size-increase that not being able to see it automatically happened in my brain.

I wondered if my dream had been reality, if the boar had been mauling on my leg. But for this the wound felt too small.

I put my right foot on the bed, bend my knee and rested my left leg against it. Now I was able to look at the wound, if I turned my leg a little. It hurt a bit to do this since it put a strain on the stitches. He had cleaned the wound, and stitched it. He also had made it bigger, which would leave me with an ugly scar, whereas the medicine I had put upon it would have cleaned the wound as it was, which would have left me with a much smaller scar!

Why had the man done this? Why had he brought me here? What did he want from me? A shiver ran down my spine when I remembered what had happened to mom and Irene in the mall, all these years ago. They had to work their asses off to clean and cook for those suckers, and worse, they had to spread their legs for the bastards whenever they had wanted to fuck.

Where was my knife? Where were my bow and arrows?

I had finished cleaning and cutting up all the pieces, taking it to the kitchen, I placed it all in a pressure cooker, added spices and salt and switched the stove on. After cleaning and drying my hands I went back to the female's room. I paused at the door frame, she was awake! Leaning my shoulder against the door frame and crossing my arms in front of my chest, I looked at her. She seemed very intently focused on her leg and haven't seen me yet, with the frown on her face it was clear that she wasn't happy about something and it had more to with her leg than her restraints from the look of things. I pushed away from the doorframe,

"You must have an iron constitution to be still awake"

I walked closer, staying out of reach of her legs, I rested the back of my hand on her forehead,

"Well at least the fever is down a bit."

I motioned to the IV bag,

"And you will have to wait until that is done before I can remove it, should be an hour or two. I'd suggest you try and sleep, the food should be ready in a few hours and if you have any questions I'll answer them then."

I tilted my head,

"I'd strongly urge you to not aggrevate the stitches or IV needle further, despite what it feels like, I am trying to help you."

With that I turned and walked out before she could reply

Eydis

A movement at the door caught my attention. He stood in the doorway, leaning very comfortable against the side just as if he were enjoying a show. At once I slid my right foot down on the bed, ending up with stretched out legs, the left over the right at the knee. Of course he had seen everything when he cleaned me, but then I hadn't been really awake, and now I was.

How had he opened the door without me noticing? I had been lost in thoughts about my wound and my things, but still, how had he done that? In my home -in our apartments under the overhanging rock- the doors only rumbled a bit in their rails once in a while and then we greased the rails and you only heard a soft swishing sound again. The doors in Parker's farm, at least those of the rooms I had been in, all creaked and squeaked and that I had thought normal for doors hung on hinges.

I hadn't even noticed if this room had a sliding, or a hinged door! I really had to concentrate a lot better. I even didn't know if there were others and if there were, where they were.

"You must have an iron constitution to be still awake"

Of course I was strong and healthy! Well, I had been a bit sick a day or two ago, and I had a little infection, but I was healthy otherwise. I just glared at him.

I watched him carefully as he walked towards the bed, ready to kick him if he made a wrong move. He moved smoothly. Not a move too much, even if he put his feet down too hard. He made a little curve when he was at the height of the foot-end of the bed and stayed out off reach of my feet.

He reached out with his hand and put it on my brow. He only rested the back of his hand there for a second or two, and told me the fever was down. He'd better tell me something I didn't know!

His hand on my brow didn't feel to bad though.

"And you will have to wait until that is done before I can remove it, should be an hour or two. I'd suggest you try and sleep, the food should be ready in a few hours and if you have any questions I'll answer them then."


He had waved at the water bag connected to my arm when he said that. Two hours! My mouth was parched! I wanted to drink water, not having it dripping into my arm! Food? The only thing I smelled was this too clean scent coming from his body. A smell without any distinction. So he wouldn't answer questions now? Well, then I wouldn't ask.

"I'd strongly urge you to not aggrevate the stitches or IV needle further, despite what it feels like, I am trying to help you."

Yes, right. Again nothing I hadn't already known. I had figured that out a long time ago. He wasn't very accomplished at helping though, since he only had made the little injury into a big wound and put needles in me. A herb tea, with some powdered willow bark and honey in it and some water would have been a lot better.

My eyes burned a hole in his back when I thought this since he had turned and walked out off the room as soon as the last word left his mouth.

Two hours it would take the bag to be empty. Would I be able to drink it would be empty in seconds! Would that mean I would have to wait two hours before he came back? In that case I hoped he wasn't really planning on finding me still here in two hours.

I tugged at the straps around my wrists. I relaxed my arms, took a deep breath and and yanked them up. I kept pulling until I had to breath. I repeated it again and again, until my muscles burnt and my skin under the straps felt a bit raw. It seemed the straps had slackened a bit. I rested for a while. Suddenly I realized my bladder was filling. I had to get to a latrine. Which would be outside, and hopefully a long way from the building. If it would be possible to get to my knees, I could reach the straps with my mouth ...

Sitting up wasn't too difficult. I felt a little dizzy because the las bit up -at first I could only lift my shoulders from the mattress and had to wriggle my butt upwards on it in this position, pulling at the straps had given me some leverage to do this- went a little to quickly. I tried to reach the straps with my mouth. I simply couldn't. It wasn't possible to bend my spine in the right angle this way. I really needed to go to the privy now. I had to get my knees under me.

It took me quite a while, and some of the moves I had to make hurt a bit, but nevertheless I succeeded. My butt was planted firmly between my outward turned feet and now it was possible to get my teeth at the straps. They were made out off leather. With metal buckles. Two on each strap, with a small band in it which tightened the straps around my wrists. It didn't take me much time to undo the first.

Then I had to righten myself to take the pressure off of my bladder.

This wouldn't do.

"OI!"

I had checked on the pressure cooker, filled the kettle and placed it on another plate, so far with the battery banks still in working condition you could actually get away with ten hours of cooking after the sun had gone down. Luckily I never had to test that in reality, but so far the theory held true...OK so I left the oven on once to check how long the power lasted, but that's called experimenting. Right?

I headed to the storage room and selected a set of olive-drab coveralls which would fit the female. She did seem self-concious when she was awake and to put her at ease would most probably be the first step in the right direction. The automated lights came on in the kitchen and common area, that meant that the sun had shone it's last rays for the day. As I entered the common room I heard a cry from the room.

I hung the coveralls over one shoulder and walked back to the room, at the open doorway I just had to stop and stare. How she had gotten into that position, especially for somebody of her length, only she would know and immediately I saw what she had tried to do and what she had done,

"For crying out loud, I should just toss you in the stockade and take you out to see the sun every two months."

I ignored her glare and walked closer, in the position she was in, the only thing she could do was bite me,

"You popped two stitches and almost managed to dislodge the IV needle, I should have left you where I found you."

Eydis

"For crying out loud, I should just toss you in the stockade and take you out to see the sun every two months."

I had no idea what a stockade was, but not seeing the sun for two months probably meant it was some sort of prison. As I saw it, I was already imprisoned. So I just glared at him. And then I glared at the restrains around my wrists. He didn't see it though, or he ignored my stare.

"You popped two stitches and almost managed to dislodge the IV needle, I should have left you where I found you."

"You better had done that, since then it wouldn't be impossible for me to go to the privy now! Had you done a better job on the stitches, they wouldn't have popped. That needle in my arm annoys me. I'd rather drink your stinking water in a few gulps than having it dripping in my veins slowly." I couldn't suppress a disgusted grimace and a shiver when I remembered how the water here tasted. I took a deep breath and swung my braids out off my face.

"You said you wouldn't come back for two hours so I simply decided to help myself. Now get these things off of me and tell my the where the privy is!" My bladder was so darn full and he made no attempt to open the restraints.

"Now! please?" I admit my "please" sounded more like a command than like a question, but I really, really needed to empty my bladder.

I just shook my head,

"It isn't water, it's a mixture of antibiotics and glucose and my stitches are perfect, you're scallywagging about popped them."

I realized how absurd it would seem, I'm standing here, arguing with a naked woman seated on her knees and restrained by her wrists to the bed. I placed the coveralls on the bed and raised a warning finger,

"I will release you and show you to the toilet, but if you try to attack me, I will defend myself."

With that I reached down and undid the first buckle of the restraints furthest from me, then the second and as the restraint fell away I undid the one left on the other restraint and took a step back,

"You can dress in that and my water isn't disgusting, it tastes better than any other water around here."

Eydis

I was delighted the bag contained none of the stinking water. His stitches were perfect. Yeah. I decided to ignore this.

He put some fabric he had slung over his shoulder on the bed. It was a one-piece suit. For me? The color wasn't great, olive-green. But if they were for me, I would wear them until I had cleaned my clothes.

He waggled his finger at me! "I will release you and show you to the toilet, but if you try to attack me, I will defend myself."


I decided to ignore the finger-waggling. I had thrown him on the bed after all. I was very proud of my self-control. He undid the restraints and I rubbed my wrists as good as possible. The needle was still in place. I concentrated upon it to distract my mind from the strange, but good smelling whiffs which had entered my nose when he bent over the bed when he opened the buckles.

"You can dress in that and my water isn't disgusting, it tastes better than any other water around here."

Now this I couldn't ignore because it simply wasn't true.

"If you think that, your tastebuds have been molested far too long. The few drops I licked off of my lips tasted disgusting. Sharp, somehow. Chemical. I am sure I wasn't dreaming that." I swung (slowly) my legs from the bed and reached for the suit. The fabric felt hard, tough. It was buttoned up. I fiddled with a few buttons and found they weren't of the normal kind, but of metal, and pressed into a counter part underneath.

Should I put it on now, or ...

"Show me the way to the privy please. I'll put it on afterwards. I would like my moccasins, I wouldn't like to hurt my feet on sharp stones, even if the way to the privy will be well-used it is new to me." Every time I mentioned the privy my bladder told me to hurry. I slung the coveralls over my shoulder, so that the legs hid my breasts.

"Of course that would have tasted bad, it had disinfectant in it."

Shaking my head, I took hold of the wheeled IV stand and headed to the open doorway,

"Just come along. Enough of your demands."

I paused when the tube pulled slightly upwards and looked at her, when she didn't seem to make a move, I sighed,

"The toilet is NOT outside, you don't need shoes. Now come along or do I need to carry you there as well?"

With that little verbal jibe, I actually felt a bit better and led her towards the toilets. We passed through the common area, which had to look a bit of a mess, there were weapons and ammunition strewn over the table tops, knives gleamed where they were resting and of course an empty cup, the coffee water would be along shortly, I just hope that I get her to finish up and get her back to the room before too much of the water boiled away.

Eydis

Disinfectant? A chemical disinfectant? Well, if that had been in it, it certainly explained the bad taste. Now I longed to taste the water.

Instead of taking the needle out off my arm he rolled the IV away from me. It tugged a bit at my arm.

"The toilet is not outside" What? Yuck.

I hated to pee over a bucket. Inside. Outside I did it pretty often, we needed the urine to cure leather. But inside? That stuff turns into ammoniac and that stinks awfully. Inwardly fuming about the "or do I need to carry you" I got to my feet and followed him. Like a dog on a leash. It was good though, since I didn't know what to look at first and/or longest. I saw no windows. I could look into room after room on the corridor we walked through and not one had a window. I wondered if we were underground. In the cellar of a building? Or a building completely underground? Some had been talking about buildings like this a few times. They wanted to build one. A bunker. They thought it would be much safer and much more defendable than our home.

Nowhere was an other human being. Nor a dog, cats, goats, cows or other animals. I did smell dog or pig food cooking though when we entered an enormous room. Lots of weapons. No bows and arrows, or spears, all guns or knives. Hunting and cooking knives. Lots of tables and chairs, enough for a hundred people, all made out off metal or with many metal parts. Lights on the ceiling everywhere. All burning. Electricity. This place was running on electricity. Maybe from solar panels, if so, then somewhere there must be an awful lot of them.

The floor felt very smooth against my feet. And a bit cold.

I saw a mug, not made out off clay. We had a few of those and we only took them out on holidays.

A few times the tube tugged at the needle in my arm. If that happened, I quickly took some bigger steps, but I didn't stop looking at all the marvels around me.

We entered another corridor. He stopped at a door, and opened it wide.

In awe I looked at a row of doors inside the room and opposite every door was a shiny washbasin!

Chris Edwards

I motioned for her to enter, releasing my hold on the IV drip,

"Just use any toilet, when you're done, just push the button on the reservoir, it will flush itself."

I looked at her, finding that she looked a little bit awestruck,

"I'll wait here..."

The rest escaped my lips before I could stop myself,

"If you feel up to it, I could make you some coffee. The water should be boiling shortly."

Eydis

Any toilet, he said. I just nodded. This place must have been made for hundreds of people. Where were they all?

I put my hand on the stand, and slid it down quickly, the metal was warm from his hand. As I reached cold metal, I moved my hand up again. The warmth felt much nicer.

I wondered where the urine and the excrements would go. In a thank?

"I'll wait here..."

I just nodded, I was pleased though, I didn't want to meet any of the other inhabitants of this place on my own just now.

"Coffee"? I had heard about that.

"Yes please. Or no, I don't think it would be the best thing to drink just now. I would like to try it. I really would. I have heard a lot about it. But for now I think plain water, or a linden blossom tea, or peppermint tea would be best for me to drink." I took a few steps inside the room, towards the first door and turned half to look at him.

"I won't be long." I turned back to the door and turned again, my hand on handle. A moment I looked at him, at his very short brown hair, his brown eyes, the slight frown on his brow. For a second I took the left corner of my lower lip between my teeth.

"What is your name? I am Eydis, named after a nordic luck-goddess."

Chris Edwards

What blossom tea? I can't say that I have ever heard of that, but I knew that there was some sort of mint tea left, I didn't drink that, only sticking to coffee as it was easier to harvest, dry, roast and grind. Because of that, there was still quite a supply left of tea. Eydis? Oh wait, I should answer,

"Edwards. Chris. Seven seven six seven nine."

I had shocked myself with that, I had even felt my spine stiffen, chin lift and my feet trying to shuffel into the at-attention position. Her question had taken me back to when we still had roll-calls, when it was drilled into you to provide you surname, name and serial. It was a blow-over from the old days, they believed that dicipline was the way to survive, to keep structure and perhaps even build up society again.

Well look at that idea now. They had one man left and on his own he could not build up anything. The decline of fresh food, radiation fallout and contamination, along with wild animals and lack of medical personel, really did a number on the plans of the ones dead and gone. I relaxed my stance and looked at her.

Eydis

Seven seven what? My chin dropped down onto my chest. Then I noticed how he had changed his stance and I closed my mouth audibly. I shook my head as to wake myself up. His expression had changed. He looked kind of lost. Kind of sad.

What was this about?

Chris. His name was Chris. Not Edward, Edwards was his surname. And the numbers ... They couldn't be his birthdate. What did they mean?

I took a deep breath.

"I won't be a minute, Chris." I turned and opened the door, maneuvered the stand inside the toilet stall and followed. A steel toilet pot, with a lid. I opened it, automatically holding my breath. I noted a little pool of water in the bowl. It looked clean! Turning around, I took the coveralls from my shoulders, and noticed no smell whatsoever rising up from the toilet. Before I sat down, I hung the coveralls over the stander. So this thing is useful! I grinned and did what I had to do, and then I searched for a sack or bucket with soft little rests of leather, wool or flax and a bottle or bucket of water to clean and dry myself. Nothing. Just a big plastic cover against the wall with an enormous roll of paper in it.

Paper! Here in the toilet ... unbelievingly I shook my head. There was nothing to clean myself with. Should I do that at a washbasin? That would be very "open". Should I ask Chris? I decided against it and pulled at the roll -remembering my mom and Irene had talked about "toilet-paper" a few times when I was a little girl- and ripped off four pieces. I dried myself and got to my feet. I had to hold on to the stand because I suddenly felt dizzy. As soon as the dizziness passed somewhat I turned to look for the reservoir Chris had talked about.

Before I pushed the button, I quickly checked the color of my urine. A bit dark, but not too bad. A few more drinks of water and everything would be back to normal.

I gasped as I noted how much water flowed into the toilet, flushing it until no trace of my urine was left. Such a waste! I heard water rushing into the reservoir as soon as the flushing had stopped.

A moment I was tempted to dip my fingers in the bowl. The water in it looked so fresh again. Now I had to dress myself. Easiest way to do would be to sit on the toilet again.

The textile felt strange against my skin when I put my feet in the legs. I noted a few drops of blood on my left shine, where the skin had pulled taut around the stitches. The stitches were quite okay, only one had pulled a bit lose. I ripped off some paper, spit on it and cleaned my leg. Now what?

I looked at the paper. I could throw it in the toilet. But I wouldn't use any water to flush this little piece of paper down the drain! I took the paper between my teeth when I got to my feet and pulled the coveralls up to my waist.

After a few tries I managed to get one arm in, and then I was stuck. No way it was possible to put the other arm, the IV and the stand on its four-legged foot through the still empty arm of the coveralls.

Somehow I knew Chris wouldn't be pleased if I just pulled the needle out off my arm to dress properly. I just closed the buttons as high as I could, leaving one shoulder bare and the arm dangling to my side.

It had taken me much more than just a minute to arrive at this state. Quickly I threw the paper in the toilet and opened the door. A smile crossed my lips when I saw him standing in the door, his feet shoulder wide, just like I stood when it was my turn to watch over the others at night, I never crossed my arms over my chest then though. I always held on to my spear.

"Sorry, it took a bit longer than I thought to figure everything out. I used some of the paper to dry myself. And some to clean the blood from my leg. Stitches are okay enough," I told him while I wheeled the IV over to the washbasin opposite the toilet I had used. A little rectangular thingy on the wall beside the faucet took my interest. I smelled like Chris. I pointed my finger at it.

"What is that? Where is the basket with soap-plant? An awful lot of water came out the reservoir when I pushed the button, it must have been something between five and eight liters! Is that normal or did I push too hard?"

She actually went faster around her business than I had expected, at least she didn't dwaddle, as she came out of the stall I just had to smile slightly, the IV bag would have fitted through the sleeve, but she did at least take into account that I wanted the IV to stay in.

"The paper you used is what you should have used and the amount of water sounds about right. Just don't drink that water. I'd also strongly advise against drinking water from any of these taps. It is clean, but tastes awful. I'll show you what water you can drink."

I tilted my head to the side at her question,

"Soap-plant? What is a soap-plant? That there is a liquid soap dispenser, you press that lever on the bottom to squeeze out soap."

I left my post at the door and showed her how the dispenser worked, pointing at the two faucets with the hand not holding a dollop of soap,

"Red is warm water, Blue is cold water, it is the same throuout the bunker."

I opened the cold water, used water to lather up my hands and then rinsed it clean, walking over to the automatic hand dryer, I held out my hands and as the air started to rush from the nozzle I rubbed my hands together to dry them. Once done I stepped away and looked at her,

"As easy as that."

Eydis

"As easy as that."

I closed my mouth. Carefully to not do it in an audible way now though. The soap, the water okay. Hot water coming out off the wall, a bit strange, but okay. But the air rushing forceful out off the little machine on the wall ... It was so weird my chin had dropped to my chest again.

Without saying anything I copied what he had done. I opened the hot water tab though. It felt as if I was wasting a lot of energy, but I was so curious if it would be really warm, as warm as our water when the summer suns had heated up the reservoir above the shower i simply had to ry it. At first, when I lathered up the soap in my hands, it had been quite cool. But then, when I held them under the flow, it was so hot I pulled them back a moment. The only times I had touched water this hot, was when it had been heated over the fire or in the solar cooker!

It felt marvelous. I kept my hands in the flow just a few seconds longer than necessary just because it felt so nice, so relaxing.

I shook my hands over the basin.

"My hands smell like you," I thought aloud. "This soap smells much stronger than soap-plant, even stronger than when herbs or flowers are mixed in, and even stronger than when soap-plant, flowers, ashes and fat are mixed together to make real soap."

Then I walked over to the air-machine.

With one move I thrust my hands under the end where the air had rushed out before. One second long nothing happened. Then an engine inside started to rumble, and air started to flow out, softly at first and then fast and hard. It tickled. I giggled.

The air even got warm after a few seconds! I turned my hands around, pulled them back until only my fingertips were in the flow, shoved them back until the air flowed over my wrists, all the while giggling and grinning. This was fun!

With a sigh I realized my hands were dry for a quite while already and I was wasting resources. Slowly I pulled them back, my fingers spread wide to get the most of the warm air still rushing out. It only stopped when I locked my hands behind my back. I nodded. Just as it took a second to start and a few to reach full force, it needed a few seconds to slow and stop. I wanted to know how the machine 'knew' when it had to start and stop, and bend down to study the underside.

I yelped and nearly hit my head on the machine as air blew into my face. I laughed out loud.

"This is great!"