All We Have Now - 1. Part 1

In a world where you couldn't be sure of anything anymore, today I was certain of one thing. I would die, I just didn't know how yet. I would've been scared or at least depressed, but I was too weak to really care. In a way I was looking forward to the end and for this constant nightmare to finally be over. I felt like I should've died like all the other people, that I had cheated death somehow and that now this was my punishment, my hell.

The odds were definitely against me and it seemed ironic that I didn't stay alive because I was the fittest or the smartest, but because I was the most scared. When people started to turn into monsters and to kill those who didn't I knew I had to get away from any kind of civilization as far as possible, so I packed my things, got in my car and fled deep into the woods.

I learned the hard way what I could and what I couldn't eat in the wild and spent most of my time in trees. I had tied a long rope to a fireiron, which allowed me to climb even the taller ones, something I came to regret when I fell out of one two months ago and broke my leg. I didn't know how to properly treat an injury like that, so it didn't heal right and now I was walking with a limp. I thought it would be the end of me, because I couldn't run anymore and I was too scared to fight the monsters, but I still didn't die, more out of luck than anything else really.

Then winter hit. When I now imagine hell I don't picture fire and brimstone anymore, I picture the freezing cold of winter and a forest where snow was viciously hiding the very few things left to eat.

I had run out of food days ago and I had a fever. There was a small town a few miles from where I was and it was my only chance to find supplies, but for me to go there was almost certain suicide, because a populated area meant lots of monsters. I didn't even know if I could make it there in my condition, but I was starving and freezing to death, so even the faintest possibility of food and shelter was so overwhelmingly appealing that I decided it was worth dying for.

I opened my toiletry bag and took out my mirror. I barely recognized myself. I was pale and even though I was only eighteen, maybe nineteen, I didn't really look youthful anymore. I had bags under my blue eyes and it showed that I was malnourished. My blonde, slightly wavy hair was greasy and covered more than half of my forehead by now. There was also stubble growing all over the place, so I quickly shaved and then stuffed everything back.

I climbed down my tree and headed to the town. I had to stop several times on the way, but I finally got there after a couple of hours. I hurried from cover to cover, looking out for monsters, till I saw a convenience store up ahead. I crossed the street and silently approached the building. Suddenly a monster came out of an alley behind me. It must have seen me when I walked by. Its eyes were completely black and its skin was very light and looked like paper mâché. Its flesh was dried up and you could see every bone of its skull. I called them monsters, because I was so scared of them, but they were basically zombies. It started to come after me, groaning aggressively. Its movements were very stiff and looked almost mechanical, not human at all anymore. I tried to limp away as fast as I could, but I knew it would catch me within seconds. My eyes were glued to it the whole time, so I didn't see what was in front of me and ran head first into a pole. I fell to the ground and passed out.

The next thing I knew I woke up on the dirty and cold floor of a dim room. The air was moist and stuffy and it felt a little claustrophobic being indoors again after living outside for so long. There was a tall guy sitting on a plastic container across from me, holding a big knife in his hand. He had greasy, dark brown hair that was about as long as mine. His eyes were hazel and he had a very grim looking face, which was covered with a thick beard. He was wearing a long winter coat which had blood splatters all over it and I could smell him from five feet away.

"What happened?" I moaned and propped myself up on my elbow.

"I saved your stupid ass, that's what happened! Now shut the fuck up and take off all your clothes!" he barked at me.

"What? No!"

"Do it right fucking now or I'll stab you in the face!" I started to cry. "Why the fuck are you crying?!" he asked angrily.

"Please don't rape me, please," I whimpered and he frowned deeply.

"Rape you?! Jesus! I wasn't planning to... But if you don't get naked in the next ten seconds I will fucking rape you! Understood?!"

"Yes," I whispered shakily. I quickly got up and undressed completely. I had never been this humiliated in my whole life and I desperately covered my genitals with my hands.

"Lift your arms, spread your legs and then turn around!" he demanded and I obeyed. "Good, now get dressed, quickly!" he said and I put my clothes back on as fast as I could. I was shaking violently from the cold and the fear. He took off his coat and handed it to me. I gratefully wrapped it around my body. It was incredibly warm. "Run off with that and I'll stab you in the face when I catch you! You got that?!" he said warningly.

"Yes, no, thank you."

"Come on, we need to get a fire going."

We started to walk down a long hallway, but I couldn't keep up with him.

"Fucking move it, will ya?!" he barked.

"I'm sorry, this is as fast as I can go."

"Jesus Christ, how the fuck have you survived this long?!"

"I don't know," I mumbled.

We made our way upstairs to what looked like an old storage room. There were a couple of pieces of furniture in one corner and some boxes in the other. He took a chair and pulled it apart like it was made out of matchsticks. When he had enough wood he stacked it all up at the opposite side of the large room.

"You can't light a fire in here, you'll burn the place down or at least the smoke will gather and we might suffocate," I said.

"Shut the fuck up!" he barked and shot me a warning look.

"I'm just saying, it's a bad idea."

He got off his knees, drew his knife and glared at me.

"Do you want me to rape you?!" he asked. My eyes widened and I forcefully shook my head. "That's what I thought. Now sit down and only speak when you're spoken to! You got that?!" I nodded and quickly sat down.

He opened two windows on both sides of the room and lit the fire. To my surprise the smoke escaped through the windows and soon the whole pile was burning. I reached out and warmed my hands over the flames. After maybe half an hour of silence only embers were left. He pulled a can of beans out of his backpack and opened it with his knife. He heated them up and then started to eat them. I watched him wide-eyed. When he caught me I quickly looked away. A couple of minutes later he suddenly handed me the can. It was still half full.

"Eat!" he barked.

I hastily poured the beans into my mouth and swallowed them without chewing. I was a little out of breath when I had finished the can. I took my finger and cleaned out every last drop. Suddenly I felt nauseated and threw up. I sadly stared at the small pile of vomit on the floor, completely disheartened.

"Jesus! How fucking stupid are you?!" he said angrily and slapped me on the back of my head. It didn't hurt that much, but it startled me and I flinched. "That was my last can you fucking retard!" he added.

"I'm sorry," I said shakily.

"Yeah, you will be if I don't find more food soon."

He pulled out a bottle of water and handed it to me. I took a big gulp and immediately had to cough and gag.

"Jesus, do I have to kick your ass?! Take it easy, for fuck's sake!"

"Sorry," I replied and took a smaller sip, but had to cough again. I covered my mouth and looked at him wide-eyed.

"That cough sounds rough. You're not sick or something, are you?" he asked. I slowly nodded and he touched my forehead, which made me flinch again. "God damn it, you're burning up!... Now I can't drink out of that bottle anymore!... Fuck!... I should fucking kill you!" I started to cry and hugged my legs to my chest. My whole body was shaking violently. "Stop crying right now!" he demanded angrily, but that only made it worse. "Jesus fuck!" he cursed, got up and walked away.

By the time he was back, maybe an hour later, the fire had completely gone out, because I had felt too weak and shaken to get up and add more wood, but I had at least stopped crying. He was carrying a steel bucket and what looked like torn up drapes.

"Do you have something to sleep in?" he asked.

"Yes, a plastic tarp."

"That's it?"

"Yes?" I answered nervously.

"No wonder you're sick. Here, you can use this for tonight," he said and handed me his sleeping bag. I rolled it out and slipped inside. It reeked, but it was really warm. He soaked a piece of cloth in the bucket and offered it to me. "Put this on your forehead," he said and I did. The cold felt very pleasant against my hot skin. "And drink the water, it's yours now anyway," he added and I nodded.

He broke more furniture and restarted the fire. I hadn't been this comfortable in a long time. He sat down next to me and sucked on his finger. He kept doing that and occasionally looked at it, frowning. I raised my right hand, like in school.

"What is it?" he asked sharply.

"Do you have a splinter in your finger?"

"Yes, so?"

I opened my backpack, took the tweezers out of my toiletry bag, got up and kneeled down in front of him.

"Give me your hand please," I said and he reluctantly did. It was pretty big and felt rough. It had calluses all over and his nails were too long and really dirty. There were three splinters in his finger, so I carefully pulled them out one by one. I had to think of the mouse getting the thorn out of the lion's paw.

"Why the fuck do you have tweezers?" he asked, annoyed and frowning, when I let go of his hand.

"I don't know," I said sheepishly.

"And you don't have a beard. Don't tell me you carry around a whole toiletry bag."

"Yeah, so?"

"Jesus Christ, are you actually retarded?"

"No and it's not that stupid, I mean, you'd still have splinters in your finger if I hadn't kept the tweezers, now wouldn't you?" His eyes filled with rage. He grabbed me by the throat and drew his knife.

"Next time you talk back to me it'll be the last thing you'll ever say! You got that?!" I nodded, terrified, and a tear ran down my face. He let go of me and I quickly climbed back into the sleeping bag. I pulled it over my head and cried myself to sleep.

When I woke up it was morning and I could hear the fire crackle. I peeked out and saw him sitting next to me. I watched the fire for a while, but then nature called, so I opened the sleeping bag, sat up and raised my hand. He shook his head and sighed.

"You can talk, just don't say anything stupid or disrespectful," he said.

"Ok, thank you... I need to pee. Where can I go?"

"I'll come with you." I nodded and we got up. After walking a few steps I suddenly felt really weak and collapsed. He caught me and helped me to steady myself.

"When was the last time you ate?" he asked.

"A couple of days ago."

"I see. Come here."

He picked me up and carried me downstairs. I relieved myself in a corner of a small and really horrible-smelling room and then he carried me back.

"Give me my coat," he said and I handed it to him. He opened his backpack and pulled out a can of corn.

"I thought you didn't have any more food."

"This is not for us. I need it to catch a deer," he answered.

"How? Deer don't eat corn."

"I saw a deer eat garbage once, so they'll love this. I'll just have to wait in some bushes long enough and then blast it with my shotgun."

"If you say so."

I though his plan was ridiculous, but I didn't dare tell him.

"I'll barricade the entrance downstairs, so you should be safe, but you do have a weapon, just in case, right?" he said.

"Not really, no."

He looked at me like I was crazy.

"How do you kill the freaks then?"

"I've never killed anyone or anything in my life."

"How is that even possible? You had to get attacked at some point."

"No, I stayed in trees most of the time."

"That's so fucking stupid."

"No, it was actually pretty smart." My eyes widened. "I'm so sorry, I mean, you're right, it was stupid," I said, panicked.

"You starved half to death, got really sick and you probably broke your leg jumping or falling out of a fucking tree. Tell me how that's smart?"

"No, it wasn't, it was really stupid."

"That's right... Here, take my gun," he said and handed me a small revolver. "Do you know how to use that?"

"No?"

"You take the safety off and pull the trigger, very easy. Always aim at their heads or they won't die. Got it?"

"Yes."

"I'll be back before night fall. Keep the fire going, alright?"

"Ok."

He nodded and left.

I spent the next couple of hours dozing in the sleeping bag, enjoying the warmth, fantasizing about a hot meal and every once in a while putting more wood on the fire. Suddenly I heard a gunshot in the distance, but maybe thirty minutes later he still wasn't back, so I started to worry and went to the window. I didn't see him and then there was noise coming from downstairs. I quickly pulled out the gun and held it up shakily. After a few moments he appeared and I sighed in relief. He was carrying something on his back and when he dropped it on the floor by the fire, I realized what it was.

"You killed a fawn?" I asked, incredulous.

"Yeah, you got a problem with that?" he said warningly.

"No," I answered meekly.

He started to skin and gut the poor animal. It was disgusting. When he was done he cut off a small piece, stuck it on his knife and held it over the fire. After ten minutes or so he offered it to me.

"No, thank you," I said.

"Are you shitting me right now?!"

"No, I'm not going to eat a fawn and you can't make me."

He shot up, grabbed me by the jaw and forced open my mouth, shoved in the meat, and covered half my face with his hand so I couldn't breathe.

"Eat it or die!" he barked angrily. I quickly chewed and swallow it. He let go of me and I gasped for air. He sat back down and cut off another piece of meat. I started to cry silently. When I sniffled he looked over and frowned deeply.

"Why are you crying?" he asked, but I didn't answer. "I had to do that. In case you're too stupid to realize it, you were about to starve to death, so I've saved your life, again."

"Why do you even care?" I asked.

"Cause you're with me now, so I have to keep you alive."

"I'm not 'with you' and I don't want to be."

"Well, you can't leave, you'd die for sure."

"So I'm your prisoner now?"

"You know what, you ungrateful little shit, why don't you fucking leave right now? You can even keep my gun."

I thought about it for a second. He seemed like a very unpleasant human being and I had never encountered someone like him before, so I didn't know what to expect. He was really aggressive, abusive even, and I was afraid he still might rape me at some point. But what was the alternative? Starving or freezing to death? Or worse, getting ripped apart by a monster? As much as I hated to admit it, staying with him was my best shot at surviving the winter.

"What's the matter?! Beat it already!" he barked.

"I would like to stay please," I said meekly.

"Oh really? Interesting. So here are the conditions. You will respect me, you will do whatever I tell you, when I tell you, and no more crying. You got that?!"

"Yes."

"Good."

When another piece of meat was ready he offered it to me. I took it without hesitation and put it in my mouth. It wasn't actually that bad.

"Thank you." I said, but he didn't respond. "What's you name? Mine's Cody."

"Troy."

"How old are you? I'm eighteen, maybe nineteen, I'm not sure."

"Twenty-three."

"Have you been alone the whole time since... you know?

"No."

"What happened?"

"What the fuck do you think?" he asked angrily.

"I'm sorry," I said sadly and looked down.

We ate the fawn in silence for the next hour or so. It was nice and warm in front of the fire and I felt a little stronger after every piece of meat Troy gave me.

"I need to get some sleep and you have to keep watch. If you hear anything at all you wake me up immediately. I don't care if it turns out to be nothing, but if I wake up and there are freaks in here or I find you asleep I will pull out all your teeth and use you as a human sex doll. I will also amputate all your limbs one by one and eat them. And when there's only the torso left of you I will let the freaks rip you apart. Am I making myself clear?!" he said. I looked at him wide-eyed and nodded forcefully.

He gave me his coat and climbed into his sleeping bag. The fire went out maybe half an hour later and it became dark. I was pretty tired, but the thought of what he'd do to me if I'd fall asleep kept me wide-awake. I wasn't sure if he was serious or if he was only trying to scare me, but I didn't want to find out.

In the morning Troy started a new fire and we had more fawn for breakfast.

"What are we going to do when we run out of meat?" I asked.

"We? You mean what am I going to do, right?"

"I could help."

"Oh yeah? How exactly?"

"I don't know," I said sheepishly.

"You're good for nothing, but I'll figure something out, don't worry."

"Ok."

After we had eaten Troy disappeared for a couple of hours. I spend most of that time taking little naps and keeping the fire going. He was back in the afternoon, with a large steel barrel. He emptied it on the floor and out came a grillage, a couple of bricks, some electric cords and a lot of twigs and small branches.

"What are you going to do with all that stuff?" I asked curiously.

"Save our asses."

Over the next hour or so I watched how he pulled the wire out of the cords, lit a fire in the barrel and then closed the lid with pieces of meat hanging from it on the wire. I was pretty impressed. I wouldn't have thought of that. He also built a grill over the fire and soon we were eating what was left of the fawn. For the first time in months I was actually full. My fever had gone down too and when I was lying in the warm sleeping bag I felt really good and wasn't even that afraid anymore. It was almost surreal and I was deeply grateful

"Troy?" I asked quietly.

"What is it?" he replied, annoyed.

"Thank you so much for helping me."

"Whatever."

"Troy?"

"Jesus, what?"

"Oh, nothing, sorry."

"Just fucking ask already."

"Why did you make me get naked?"

"I had to check if you were bitten, didn't I?"

"You could've just asked."

"Right, cause you would've just told me."

"Why would I keep something like that from you?"

"Cause I would've killed you immediately."

"What? Why?"

"For fuck's sake, don't you know anything?"

"Sorry."

"If you get bitten by a freak you turn into one."

"Oh, I didn't know that."

"Now you do."

"Have you killed a lot of them?"

"Yes."

"How many?"

"I don't know, over a hundred probably."

"Have you ever felt bad about it?"

"No and I won't feel bad about killing you either if you don't shut up and go to sleep."

"Sorry. Good night."

I closed my eyes and fell asleep soon after.

The next morning I was roughly shaken awake by Troy.

"Get the fuck up, we're leaving!" he barked.

"Where are we going?"

"The next town."

"Ok."

He had already packed everything, so I rolled up the sleeping bag and he tied it to his backpack. We went outside and started to walk down the street. I tried really hard to keep up with him, but couldn't.

"We'll never make it before dark at this pace," he said, frustrated.

"I'm sorry."

He thought for a second and then suddenly looked in my direction with a grim expression, drew his knife and sprinted towards me.

"No! Please don't kill me! You can just leave me! Please!" I said, panicked.

I knew it was pointless to run or to try to defend myself, so when he had almost reached me, I covered my face with my arms and squatted down. I heard a cracking sound and then a thud. I looked behind me and there was a dead monster lying on the ground. Troy cleaned his knife on the corpse, took off his backpack and buckled it on his chest.

"Get on my back, quickly," he said.

"You want to carry me? Are you sure?"

"What the fuck did I say about doing what I fucking tell you?!" he barked.

"Sorry," I said nervously and quickly climbed on his back. He started to walk, pretty fast actually.

After a mile or so a female monster tumbled out of the forest, maybe a hundred yards in front of us. Her clothes were partially torn off and her left breast was exposed, but it was ripped open and all the fat had poured out, so it was flapping around like a bloody rag. It was gross. She saw us and headed in our direction. Troy didn't seem to care.

"You see her, don't you?" I asked.

"Shut the fuck up!" he answered, a little out of breath.

Right before she reached us he drew his knife and then stabbed her in the head violently. She dropped to the ground with a thud and stopped moving.

"Say 'hi' to the devil for me, bitch," he said and cleaned his knife on her clothes.

"Do you like killing them?"

"Sure, why?"

"You haven't killed any normal people yet, have you?"

"No, but keep talking and I will kill you."

"Sorry."

I wasn't sure what I should make of Troy carrying me. It was such a lovely gesture for someone who was so aggressive and who seemed more or less hostile towards me. But in a weird way I kind of enjoyed it. The sun was shining, his body was really warm and whenever I slid down on him too much he adjusted me, so I was always pretty comfortable. The only thing that bothered me a little was that he smelled of old sweat, smoke and curdled blood.

After a couple of hours we came across a gas truck at the side of the road.

"Wait here," he said and let me down.

He walked to the door and slowly opened it. Suddenly a monster fell out. He quickly stabbed it in the head before it could get up. He climbed into the truck and searched it for maybe ten minutes. He came out with a map in his hand and studied it for a while.

"Let's go," he said and I got on his back again.

We walked for a long time and he only stopped once for a couple of minutes. I was really impressed by his stamina. I was getting tired just from holding on to him. Of course I kept that to myself. At one point we took a turn, off the concrete road, onto a small path, leading into the woods.

"Where are we going?" I asked, surprised.

"Shut the fuck up!"

"Sorry."

After at least another five miles a house appeared in the distance. We walked up to it and he let me down again. The door seemed untouched, which I took as a good sign that we might find food and other useful things in there. With his knife and a lot of brute force Troy managed to get it open without making too much noise. We entered the house and I pulled out my gun.

"Put that away, I don't wanna get shot by your stupid ass," he said quietly and I obeyed.

Everything looked hauntingly peaceful, like nothing had ever happened. We walked through the living room, which led to a hallway, and the first room on the right was the kitchen. There were two pretty horrible-smelling monsters sitting across from each other on the floor. They slowly tried to get up when they saw us, but Troy quickly stabbed them both in the top of their heads and they lifelessly dropped back down. On the counter there was a holder with kitchen knives. He pulled out the biggest one and handed it to me.

"Into the brain, as hard as you can," he said and I nodded.

We went back to the hallway and checked every room till we came to the stairs leading up. I got startled by a monster that was lying on the landing where the stairs took a turn. It wasn't a regular monster though. It used to be a little boy, maybe ten years old. It seemed like he had broken his neck and couldn't move anymore, but he started to groan and hiss as soon as he saw us. Troy didn't hesitate for a second and brutally stomped on his head, which burst like a watermelon and splattered blood all over the wall and the stairs. I almost gagged, but managed to hold it back. We checked the second floor and then went down to the basement. In one corner we found two shelves with jars and cans of food.

"Jackpot... I guess I won't have to eat you after all," he said and I swallowed hard.

"You're only joking, aren't you?" I asked nervously.

"Shut the fuck up," he answered, frowning.

He searched the whole basement and after a while he held up a camping stove.

"We're gonna take a warm bath tonight," he said almost cheerfully.

"But we don't have any water."

"There's a well out back."

"Oh, ok. And you want to heat up the water with that little thing? That won't work. It'll take way too long."

"No, retard, we'll fill the tub, then put this under it and heat up the whole thing at once."

"That's ridiculous." My eyes widened. "I mean, yeah, that will work," I added quickly and looked at him nervously.

"You know what? No bath for you. And I won't let you get in bed with me filthy like that, so you're gonna sleep on the floor. How do you like that, smart-ass bitch?"

"I'm sorry," I said, defeated.

"That's right. Now let's get a move on, we have a lot of work to do before it gets dark."

"We do?"

"Yeah, well, me mostly. You are in charge of searching every inch of this place for anything that could be useful and then you pack as much of it as we can both possibly carry. Don't pack the stuff in the bathroom though and not all the food. Alright?"

"Why, are we not staying here?"

"We are, for now, but I wanna be ready to bolt at any time."

"Ok."

I thought he was being really paranoid, because the house seemed more or less secure, so I didn't see any reason why we'd have to leave before we'd run out of food. But I didn't want to upset him by arguing, because he didn't seem as hostile as usual and I wanted to keep it that way.

While I was searching the house he was barricading the doors and windows and then started to bring in water from the well two buckets at a time. Last he dragged out the corpses and then blocked the kitchen door as well. I had found very few things that were actually useful, except for a bottle of painkillers. I had immediately taken two pills and after half an hour or so I already felt a little better.

"Did you find any booze?" he asked when everything was done.

"Yes?" I answered nervously.

"Where?"

"Please don't get drunk, ok?"

"Why the hell not?"

"You know, because some people get violent when they are drunk."

"I'll get violent right now if you don't tell me where the fucking booze is."

"In the cabinet behind the couch, in the living room."

"And you didn't think to pack it? Do I have to beat some fucking sense into you?"

"No, I'm so sorry, I wasn't thinking." He just shook his head, frowning, and walked away.

"Hell yeah! Right fucking on!" I heard him yell from the living room.

He came back with a bottle of whiskey in his hand, took two glasses out of a cupboard and filled them.

"Bottoms up," he said and downed his glass.

"No thanks. I don't drink."

"You do now. Let's go."

I hesitantly picked up the whiskey and carefully took a small sip. I immediately had to cough.

"You're such a fucking pussy. Just down the fucking thing," he said, annoyed, so I did and had to cough again. My throat was burning and my stomach started to feel really warm all of a sudden. It was actually kind of nice.

"There you go," he said and tried to pour me another, but I quickly held my hand over the glass.

"No thanks, I really shouldn't drink, I'm still sick, you know?"

"Fine, whatever, more for me," he answered, frowning, and took a big gulp right out of the bottle.

"Come," he said and I followed him down to the basement.

"What'll it be?" he asked me in front of the shelves with all the food.

"The sardines maybe?"

"No, pick at least three things and a dessert."

"Shouldn't we try to make this last for as long as possible?"

"Fuck that, we could die tomorrow, hell, we could die today, so let's enjoy ourselves while we still can."

"Ok, then the sardines, the green beans and the peas... and peaches for dessert."

"Alright, let's get this stuff upstairs."

I took my cans and he chose corned beef, sausages, mushrooms and pears. We carried them to the kitchen and checked the stove. It was still working. Next we went to the first floor, into the master bedroom. We searched the closet, but everything was a little too big for me.

"Look through the chick's stuff, it might fit you," he said.

"I'm not wearing women's clothes."

"Either that or you'll walk around naked."

I reluctantly looked through the woman's wardrobe and embarrassingly enough I found a pair of sweatpants and a couple of t-shirts that would fit me perfectly. Troy found something too and we went into the bathroom together.

"Check the water," he said and kneeled down to search the cabinet under the sink. I dipped a finger into the water in the tub and to my surprise it was really warm.

"It's ready," I said.

"Good, get in."

"But you said I couldn't take a bath." He just shot me a warning look. "No, yes, thank you... Are you going to give me some privacy maybe, please?"

"Don't be such a coy-ass bitch. Jesus. Now get in before I change my mind."

I turned away from him, quickly took off my clothes and got into the tub. The water felt amazing. I leaned back and slid down till I was covered up to my neck and sighed contentedly. I looked over to Troy, but he was busy cutting his beard with a pair of scissors.

For the next ten minutes or so I just enjoyed the warmth. It was the first time I had felt almost relaxed since the world ended.

"Start washing yourself," he said when he was nearly done shaving. He looked really handsome without the beard. His face wasn't as hard-featured as it had seemed before. It was still manly, but a lot friendlier and he had one of those dimples on his chin, which I thought was pretty attractive.

I washed my hair first and then the rest of my body. Troy turned off the camping stove and disappeared with it. When he came back I was just about to get out of the tub, so I quickly covered my genitals. He just raised his eyebrows and shook his head. I climbed out and he undressed and got in. I wanted to look, but I didn't dare. I dried myself off and put on my new clothes.

"Go eat and when you're done start preparing my stuff. I'll be down in fifteen minutes," he said.

"Ok."

I went downstairs and had dinner. It was amazing. I actually licked my plate after I was finished eating. I heated up Troy's food and just when it was about to be ready he walked in. I watched him wolf it down and then we both took our desserts and went back upstairs.

"If you have to piss or shit do it now, cause I'll barricade the door for the night," he said.

"No, I'm good."

When I entered the bedroom I was hit by a wave of warm air and noticed the camping stove on the floor. Had he told me he wanted to heat up the room with it I would've thought it could never work. Maybe I wasn't the smartest after all.

He pushed the wardrobe in front of the door and we got into bed, I on the right, by the window, and he on the other side. We leaned against the headboard and started to eat our dessert.

I looked outside. The sun was setting and painted the sky in the most beautiful red and orange colors. For a brief moment I almost forgot everything around me and just felt contented. When I was done eating, I put the empty can on the nightstand and rubbed my stomach. It was really full and was sticking out a little.

"This is nice," I said.

"Yeah, it's just weird that I'm in bed with another dude, but you're more like a little girl, so I guess it doesn't count."

I chose to ignore his rude comment.

"I know, when I pictured myself sharing a bed with another guy I didn't imagine it would be like this either." My eyes widened as soon as the words had left my mouth.

"What? You're a fag?" he asked sharply.

"No?" I answered, panicked. He grabbed me by the throat and drew his knife.

"I'll ask you one more time and you better not be lying, cause that would mean you're disrespecting me and then I'd have to stab you! So, are you a fag or not?!"

I was terrified and I didn't know what to answer. I was sure I'd get stabbed either way.

"Yes," I finally whispered shakily. His eyebrows went up and he let go of me.

"Seriously? You're a full-on fag? For real?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, that's sort of good news actually."

"It is?" I asked, completely dumbstruck.

"I guess. Now lie down on your stomach."

"What? Why?"

"I'm gonna fuck the shit out of you."

"No! You can't do that!... I mean, please don't do that! Please!" I said, horrified.

"Why the hell not? You're a fag, so you like it up the ass, right?"

"No, I don't. Anal sex is very invasive. I've read that it can hurt pretty badly the first time. I'd only let someone do it who I'm in love with. Someone I trust. You know?"

"Are you saying you wouldn't LET me do it?! Do you think you could stop me?!"

I started to cry.

"Please don't, please," I whimpered.

"Jesus, fine, I won't fuck you, but only if you stop crying right now."

I quickly wiped away my tears and tried to pull myself together.

"Thank you," I said shakily.

"Now, a blowjob isn't 'invasive' and doesn't hurt, right? And fags love to suck cock. So go ahead, blow me instead."

"No, please."

"Are you shitting me?! What's your excuse now, you ungrateful little shit?! I've saved your life a couple of times now, so this is the very fucking least you can do for me!" he said angrily.

I thought about it for a second. I had read once that if you're getting raped you should do whatever the rapist says or it would only get worse. And I really didn't have any other option. Maybe it wouldn't be too bad. He was clean and he would probably ejaculate pretty fast.

"Ok, I'll do it," I said, defeated.

"There you go."

He lay back, pulled down his pants and closed his eyes. His penis was still soft, but already kind of big. I reluctantly took it in my hand and leaned down, but I couldn't bring myself to put it in my mouth. I started to cry again and a tear dropped down on his testicles. He opened his eyes and frowned deeply

"Jesus Christ, what the fuck is wrong with you?!" he barked angrily. I quickly hid under the covers and started to sob. "Stop being such a fucking pussy!"

"Please don't rape me, please." I pleaded through my tears.

"God damn it, you're so fucking sensitive!" he said and pulled off my blanket. I curled up in a ball and started to shake violently.

"Jesus, I'm not gonna rape you! Now stop being so fucking scared!" That calmed me down a little, but I was still very upset. Suddenly I felt his hands on my shoulders, massaging me, but very roughly.

"Oww, you're hurting me!" I cried out.

"Jeeesus fucking Christ, I was just trying to comfort you!" Before I could respond he grabbed me under my arms and pulled me to him till my head was on his lap. I looked at him wide-eyed and he started to scratch my scalp.

"That hurts too," I said and he inhaled sharply.

"Dogs love that."

"Well, I'm not a dog."

"What the fuck do you want me to do then?"

"Just stroke my hair, if you want. But gently."

He tried, but used too much force and pulled my hair with every stroke.

"No, like this," I said, took his hand and guided it softly over my head.

"You're shitting me, right? I'm barely touching you. Can you even feel that?"

"Yeah, I can feel it just fine."

"You're fucking weird."

"No, I'm not. You are." My eyes widened. "No no, you're not weird, at all. I am," I quickly added.

"That's right."

He stroked my hair for another ten minutes or so and I calmed down considerably. Then he suddenly realized that he still had a bottle of whiskey waiting for him. He took a big gulp out of it and I tried to get up, but he held me down.

"What's the matter? I thought you liked this," he said.

"I do, but you're getting drunk, so I want to get out of your way."

"Relax, I'm not a mean drunk."

"I find that hard to believe."

"Cody!" he said warningly. "Jesus, even your name sounds like you're a little boy. From now on your name is Hank, so there's at least one thing manly about you."

"Thanks a lot," I said sarcastically.

"Hey, it's not my fault that you're such a weak, stupid, crippled, pussy-ass bitch."

"So I guess you're done being nice to me?"

"I'm always nice to you."

"That's a joke, right?"

"No, keeping you alive is pretty damn nice, wouldn't you say so?"

"Yes, I'm sorry. You do seem to care about me, in your own way."

"Now let's not go crazy. You're like a pet to me, nothing more."

"Really?" I asked and looked down.

"Shut the fuck up."

I was still a little shaken, but I had been alone for so long that it felt really good being touched by someone in a kind way again. And I appreciated that he was trying to comfort me. It made me wonder if he wasn't such a bad guy after all. I had been sure he would rape me, but he didn't, even though he easily could have, so maybe it was never his intention in the first place. And maybe he didn't want to hurt me either.

We didn't talk for a while and he finished the whole bottle of whiskey.

"Christ, if the freaks came a knockin' right now we'd be totally fucked," he said, more to himself than me, and laughed.

"I could fight them off."

He laughed harder.

"Sure. By the way, where's your knife?"

"I left it downstairs," I said sheepishly.

"That's probably for the best. You would only cut or stab yourself with it accidentally."

"I'm not that clumsy and my arms are pretty strong, from climbing trees, you know?"

"Right, I almost forgot."

"Why do you call them freaks anyway?"

"Cause they're freaks of nature and everything about them is crazy."

"I think they look like monsters."

"Monsters are something you're scared of. You shouldn't be scared of them, fear only cripples you. And they're stupid and slow, which makes them easy to kill." He laughed. "Like you in a way," he added.

"Why do you always have to put me down?"

"It's called 'tough love' ...Not that I love you. Jesus, I really am drunk."

"Did you mean it when you said I'm no more than a pet to you?"

"Yeah, a really annoying, stupid, crippled pet."

"If I'm so annoying, why do you keep me around? I only slow you down and drain your supplies. So why not cut me loose?"

"Cause you're like a walking, talking emergency ration. When I run out of food someday I can always eat you," he said and laughed. I tried to get up again, but he didn't let me.

"Let go of me, I don't want to be anywhere near you, and tomorrow I'll pack my stuff and leave first thing. I'm not taking your abuse just to end up getting eaten by you."

"Shut the fuck up! You're not going anywhere, you got that?!"

"You can either let me leave or you kill me right now," I said, determined.

"Why do you have to be such a fucking pain in the ass?! I was only kidding, I won't fucking eat you, alright?! Now settle down!"

"So why do you keep me around then?"

"None of your fucking business."

"That's not good enough. I can't be scared of you all the time, that's no better than being out there on my own."

"Just shut the fuck up already. You're starting to piss me off."

"So what, you're going to kill me if I don't?" I asked challengingly and tried to push away the hand he was holding me down with. Suddenly he grabbed me by the throat and drew his knife.

"Enough!" he yelled furiously. I had convinced myself that he wouldn't hurt me, but now I felt all the more terrified when I realized what a mistake I had made and in how much trouble I was in for provoking him, so I started to cry. He let go of me and lowered his knife. "Stop crying!" I couldn't, I just stared at him fearfully. "Fine, you wanna know why, you little shit? Alright. I keep you alive cause I think you might be an angel."

That really shocked me. On the one hand it was almost kind of sweet, but on the other hand it scared me a little, because I was afraid he might be insane.

"You think I'm an angel?" I asked nervously.

"Well, you look like one, but I'm not crazy, so I think it's unlikely that you're an actual angel from heaven or anything. But you're at least the next best thing. Think about it, you shouldn't have been able to survive on your own for so long, but you did somehow, which is a small miracle in itself if you ask me. What's more amazing though is the fact that you seem untouched by this hellish nightmare we live in. You're still good and innocent, which makes you such a rarity. Something like that has to be protected at all costs and I'd die before I'd let anything happen to you."

I was totally stunned by this. He actually really cared about me.

"If I'm so special, why aren't you treating me better?" I asked cautiously.

"This is a harsh world. I think under the circumstances I've been very soft and patient with you. You're just incredibly sensitive, like a little girl."

"I'm not that sensitive, I just don't want to be 'handled' like I'm your dog or something."

"Are you not safe, clean, full and lying in a warm bed right now? What more do you want? That I sing you a fucking lullaby?"

"That's what I mean, you constantly insult me and you order me around and threaten me. That has to stop."

"It has to? Or what? You'll leave?"

"Yes, I will."

"You know what? Go right ahead, leave. I won't stop you." There was a long pause. "What the fuck are you waiting for?! Get lost!"

"Fine, I won't leave," I said quietly.

"That's what I thought."

"But you have to be nicer to me."

"I have to do shit! But how about I beat you bloody now, gag you and then lock you in the closet for the rest of the night for being disrespectful to me?!" My eyes widened with fear and I teared up again. "For fuck's sake!" he said angrily and quickly stroked my hair. Weirdly enough, it calmed me down a little.

"Why is it so important to you to be respected?" I asked after a few minutes. He was still stroking my hair.

"Cause I've earned it."

"Haven't I earned it too?"

"No, you just climbed on trees like a fucking monkey and hid. I had to fight to survive. You have no idea what I had to go through."

"I see... Why do you hate it so much when I cry?"

"I just do, alright?"

"I'm sorry I cry so much, I guess I am a little too sensitive, but I can't help it, I just get really scared when you're threatening me."

"It's not like I would ever really hurt you or anything."

"You've already hurt me a couple of times now, emotionally, you know? But also physically, when you were too rough with me."

"I didn't mean to do that and I'm not trying to be rough with you, I'm just not used to being careful."

"Maybe I could teach you."

"I'm not gonna become some weak-ass pussy-bitch like you."

"But you could pretend to be, for me? I won't think any less of you. On the contrary, I will admire you even more than I already do."

"You admire me?"

"Of course and I'm deeply grateful for all you've done for me."

"Then fucking act like it."

"I will, I promise."

"Alright, so what do I do differently?"

"You could stop barking orders at me and maybe start saying 'please'."

"That's not gonna happen."

"And how about you stop threatening to hurt me, period?"

"Then how do I get you to do stuff?"

"By saying 'please'."

He inhaled sharply.

"Whatever."

"And you could also stop insulting me all the time, I'd really appreciate that."

"Don't be such a fucking pussy. Jesus."

"But it bothers me."

"Just shut the fuck up already, alright?! This discussion is over!"

"Fine."

"Now let's get some sleep, I'm fucking beat."

"Ok."

I scooted back to my side of the bed and covered myself up.

"Good night," I said.

"Yeah, night."

The room turned quiet. I closed my eyes and fell asleep minutes later.