Don't Make Me Shoot

One

Katherine jerked awake, the coppery taste of blood tainting her mouth and flowing out, staining the burlap potato sack she'd been sleeping on. She remembered potatoes a bit. Her mother and grandmother had used to make them. She'd been dreaming about her sister this time, though. Her mind groped around for a name, or a face, but all it could find was the one sound ; a high, tinkling laughter, like a bell. She remembered bells, too. Belle. The impact of her sister's name threw Katherine back in the sand. She'd slowly found things over the last few full moons, such as the potatoes, or her Aunt Carol and her lovely daughter, the nurse. Katherine sat up again, wiping the excess sand from her eyes. Nearly her whole body was caked in the stuff, and it had been at least fifteen full moons since Katherine had cleaned her fire red hair. It looked more like dirt than hair. Katherine sighed in relief to see that all of her belongings were exactly where she had left them the night before. One by one, she put the items inside the sack. The blue hair clip, once owned by her sister. Belle. The tattered remains of her dear aunt's favorite dress. The canteen that.....

Her head throbbed. Her mind groped once again for whom had given her this canteen. She couldn't think. She felt it was at the top of her tongue.

Whatever.

Some kind of emotional canteen.

Her grandmother's wedding ring made with real rubies and diamonds. Weddings. Katherine felt she knew what the word meant, but she couldn't for the life of her remember what.

A coin. Small, brown, and old. It had been valuable currency before the apocalypse. Before....

Her head! She smacked a hand to the side of her skull, and felt something warm and sticky. She lowered her hand to see it covered in thick, scarlet blood. She looked around frantically. Her spear she used for hunting was missing. She noticed footprints in the sand, sloppily covered and going in several directions, as if the owner of the footprints had been frantically running around. She examined them closer and realized they weren't just one pair. There were two pairs. They overlapped over fifteen times. One pair was much larger than the other. Some came near where she had been lying. The ones closest were covered by her own.

Someone had been here.