Page 60 of All Your Days
“Are you alright? Do you wanna rest? You sound, well, not good.” I feel a sliver of pity for Jacob, whose voice almost squeaks when he suggests I’m not feeling great.
“Yeah, nah,” I shake my head. “I’m all good.”
“You sure?”
“Absolutely.” I nod more enthusiastically this time, even managing a smile. “Hey, what’s that?”
Jacob calls the train to a halt, peering out to the west where I’m pointing to a strange shape in the distance. It doesn’t look like a mob of animals. It actually looks like a camel. Not really an unusual sight, there are plenty of feral ones out here, but something about it looks odd.
“We got company?” Fear makes my arms and legs go funny. We haven’t run into anyone the whole trip. Running into someone now feels scarier than it should be.
Jacob pulls his gun around, looking through the sight.
“Holy shit.” He lowers the gun, and looks out at the camel drawing closer, then brings the gun back up. I’m buzzing, heart in my throat. “I reckon that’s Lou.”
“What?” I screech, startling Adeeko, who’s leading the train. He rears up, pulling on the lead. I have to give him a good scratch to apologise. “What do we do?”
“They’re heading straight for us, so I guess we wait.”
Wait with gun in hand, ready to shoot, is what he actually means, moving so he’s directly in front of me.
It’s unnecessary, though. Because itisLou. Nearly unconscious, slumped on Sheba, no saddle, only a rope loosely tying him and his emergency bag to the beast, the reins barely gripped in his fingers.
“Is that?” Lou mumbles, blinking at us with bright red, bloodshot eyes.
“Yes, yes, oh my god. Let’s get you off there.”
Sheba seems happy to be getting back to her family, none the worse for her adventures.
Lou, on the other hand, is a different matter. Clothing torn, one boot missing, sunburnt and severely dehydrated, he is delirious when Jacob pulls him down.
“Shh, let’s get you some water.” We have to carry him to the same narrow, hard board Cale rested on only days ago. Only this time, we have to tie Lou down, because he immediately tries to roll off.
Jacob deals with that while I get a waterskin from the trailer and fill it from our tank.
“He’s not…” I ask when Jacob brings the spout to Lou’s lips, forcing him to slowly drink. I can’t finish because I don’t even know what I mean. Is he going to die? Is he going to turn?
Jacob meets my eyes with a tight smile.
“I dunno. I don’t think so, but I don’t know. But he’s immune, so we have that.”
So he won’t turn like Cale. But he could still die from being out here for so long alone. Fuck this fucking desert.
Lou isn’t in any condition to drink on his own, and we can’t exactly camp in the middle of the track for the night, so I do something I haven’t done at all this trip—join him on the bench.
It takes less than five minutes to realise why I haven’t done it before now. Lou’s head rests on my lap, and the bench is barely wide enough for my arse to fit. I have to sit up ramrod straight the entire way, until my lower back and upper thighs burn with the effort.
We stop for camp early when Lou can’t take the journey anymore, and really, neither can I. Jacob leaves us on the trailer so he can get out a cot for Lou to lie on while we set up camp.
“Need a hand with that?” He later asks for the fiftieth time, and I bite back the urge to snap at him.
He’s only being helpful, but I just wish he’d stop. It’s not like he’s going to be helping me when we get back to The Facility. Two more nights. That’s how long we have.
Two.
And then I’m back to having to figure out how to live without him, so, no, I really don’t want him hovering about, giving me tender little touches whenever he passes, smiling at me like I’m the brightest star in the sky.
“Yeah, nah, she’ll be ‘right. I got it.” Is what I say. Repeatedly.
