Chapter 33

353 12 1
                                    

After the early morning's awkward fumbling, the rest of the morning before they left was relatively silent, with both of them moving quietly throughout the apartment and eating their breakfast, glancing warily out the window. It seemed that the previous night and that morning's closeness had done little to stave off their paranoia. It was still dark when they'd gotten up, awkwardly shuffling out into the main area of the apartment, and Launa didn't suggest they leave until the sun peeked over the horizon.

They made their usual run into the main part of the town, moving so quickly in and out of the stores to grab cans and bottled water that it felt professional. They'd been there, done that, and they'd survived. "We're more than halfway there," Launa announced, leaning against the car Avi was attempting to hot wire, with no luck, "It's not that far of a walk to Seligman."

Her partner sighed and slid out of the vehicle, kicking the front tire as he passed it, swearing under his breath about new cars and their improved security. "Alright," he grumbled, hauling his bags up onto his shoulders, "Let's get out of here."

______

If it hadn't been for the decreased pace due to Launa's knee still being touchy and some of the lingering snow, the trip would have gone quite a bit faster. They fell back into the rhythm they'd grown so accustomed to in their first few weeks of travel: get up, travel, rest at midday, travel, dinner, sleep. Rinse. Repeat. The only difference was them. Avi remarked that he felt older, but whether it be the aching in his entire body from the travel, or how much they'd grown since they started, he couldn't quite place why.

Launa couldn't help but agree, recalling how different and how green they'd been at the start. It had only been four months, but it had felt like years. "I feel like I've known you since Junior High," she said, swallowing a mouthful of soup, "And I know it's just because we've been around each other constantly, but... you know."

He nodded, scraping the remnants of his dinner off the bottom of his bowl. "No, I know what you mean," he reached out to rub her back, setting his bowl down, "It feels like years."

The thought settled into her skull, that evening, as they said 'good night', and Avi curled against her back. It's because you have nothing else to do than to talk to each other. If you'd bumped into each other and became friends, you probably wouldn't know as much about him in the same space of time. It's almost a magic trick.

She decided that she didn't mind magic tricks, and that she could settle for knowing him so well in a relatively short amount of time, and slipped into unconsciousness, smiling at the soft snoring at the back of her neck.

______

What she didn't know about him was that he was mildly afraid of snakes.

Launa was awoken by a sharp tugging on her shirt. Squinting her eyes open, she rolled over, nearly elbowing him in the stomach. "What?" she demanded, unamused at the sudden awakening.

What she saw shocked her: Avi was laying stock still and stiff as a board on his back, his eyes wide with panic at the large, rope-like creature sitting on his chest and curled against his collar. He cast his eyes to her, silently pleading for help. She glanced to the tent's flap. How did that get in here?

"Get it off me," he mouthed, fighting to keep his breathing even. Launa nodded, and then carefully, so as to not disturb the snake, edged out of the tent in search of a stick. She came back with two, only find the intruding creature coiled back from Avi's face, looking obviously pissed, its rattles shaking.

"Okay," she breathed, "Easy, now." She carefully slid one stick under the snake's head, then, as quicky as possible, without endangering Avi too much, pinned the thing between the two sticks, like chopsticks, and dragged it outside into the morning's chill air, carrying it a safe distance away and setting it back onto the ground. It struck out at her and she hopped aside and out of reach, thankful for her quick reflexes in the face of danger.

Natural DisasterWhere stories live. Discover now