In the Clearing

"This looks to be as good as any place," Stephen sighed as he shuffled to a stop in the dusty clearing. "We're far enough off the beaten path to light a fire, don't ya think?"

The girl dropped her pack without answering and sat on it, never looking at Stephen as he circled around her.

"Lookit here, at all these tracks," Stephen exclaimed. "Nobody's been hunting around here in for ages. That's deer and over here's got to be bobcat. And I think I seen rabbit scat, too. When there's this much wildlife around, there ain't no people. If we're lucky, we may get some meat tonight!"

The girl continued to sit, rocking slightly, never reacting to a single word. Undaunted, Stephen continued his monologue as he foraged for tinder in a small stand of scrub oaks.

"There's a creek here, with some running water!" He exclaimed once. "It's ain't more than a trickle, but it looks clean."

"Didn't I tell you we'd have meat?" he asked a bit later as he wiggled a dead rabbit in front of her.

She took no noticeable interest in any of Stephen's activities, even when he took her gently by the hand and lead her over by the fire he made. She never looked up from her lap as Stephen talked his way through gutting and skinning the carcass, or when the smell of charring meat rose from the fire.

"It's good to see rabbits again," Stephen grinned through his tangled beard as he tended to the meat. "They used to be real rare, with all the cities that was magically multiplying like, well, rabbits. There weren't no open lands before. Now, lookit here. We're the rare ones, aint' we?

"Ever eat a chicken?" he continued on. "They were this type of bird you could get at just about every restaurant. I can remember once we went to this place, and there were dozens, just dozens, of them fat, naked birds getting cooked up. Chicken after chicken turning round and round on the grill. You think this rabbit smelt good? Nothing like that chicken grill. Ain't no more chickens, or cows, anymore. The virus wiped out, just it did most people. No more steaks, neither.

"Lookit here," Stephen dug into his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash. "I found all this in that house we stayed at a couple nights ago. Too bad it didn't have no roof. You probably never seen this. Money. It used to be what made the world go round, they said. All different sorts, too. Good old American dollars here, and I think this is twenty Euros. Some Asian bills, too. I never did travel much, so I can't tell what they are.

"You still sore, ain't you?" Stephen shook his head. "Look, I told you, it's what men and women do. I treated you better than those guys I took you from would have. And see how I've taken care of you?" He swept his arm across the darkened vista beyond the light of the fire. "We ain't starving or scared, and we're both immune, so that virus ain't gonna get us. You got meat tonight, for crying out loud!"

He slumped back and sighed. "It ain't my fault, you know. It's been so long since I was with anybody. I did ask, you know. Aint' my fault you got hurt. I did ask." He sat in silence for a moment, watching the embers pop. "I didn't mean it to hurt, you know? I just wish you'd say something."

Stephen stood up and started to pace in front of the fire. “Lookit here, you can't blame me for everything, you know. I didn't do this to the world. I didn't ask the army to shoot everybody or drop bombs on the cities. I didn't make everybody go crazy and start fearing everything. It's ain't my fault!” he bellowed, shaking his hands at the night sky. “It's ain't my fault!”

The last of Stephen's cry melted into the darkness. He lowered his arms, hung his head, and slowly sat back down beside the silent girl. She hadn't moved once during his outburst. He looked at her matted hair for a moment.

“Hey, I'll make it up to you,” he said. “I got something special, real special. Wanna see?” Without waiting for a response, he got up and went to his pack. After a minute of rummaging through it, Stephen cried in delight and scrambled over to the girl.

“Lookit here, this is good,” he panted. “This here's my favorite thing. My daddy gave it to me. It's something rare, even before everything went to pot.”

He dropped the jewel case in her lap. “See? It's a rare bootleg of a concert my daddy and I went to when I was a kid, back in the 90s. Only a hundred of these were made. He looked for that CD for weeks, and I made sure to keep it safe all this time. I'm hoping we can find a machine to play it someday. Since it's special, I want you to have it. To show you I mean no hard feelings. You okay with that?”

As afternoon lengthened the shadows, a group of ragged travelers followed the circling vultures to the quiet clearing. The first man to step into the clearing saw the remains of a fire and the body of a man. Another man picked up a shiny crescent from the dirt next to the body.

“What is that?”a woman asked.

“An old Rush CD,” he answered. “Looks like someone used it to cut his throat.”

“Where do you think they are?” asked another woman, clutching an infant closer to her chest.

“Long gone, by the state of him,” said the first woman. “Wonder what made them do it.”

Word count: 972