(Photo by Nishant Aneja)

When Syn awoke it took her several minutes before she could hold onto her thoughts long enough to begin remembering what all had happened. Once her memories returned, however, so did the pain. Her entire stomach felt as though it were on fire with the worst of it centered on where the knife had first been plunged. It was so dark and quiet that initially she thought something must have happened to Pierce and her mom and that she’d been left on the ground where she had collapsed. Not too long after her fears began to rise she realized that she was inside her old home with a blanket draped over her.

Still unsure about the state of her wounds, Syn didn’t want to risk moving too much. As such, her view of her surroundings was limited. She was lying on a thin mat along side one of the walls with her feet not far from one of the corners of the room. Taking care not to tense any of her abdominal muscles, she turned her head to the side so she could get a better view.

On the other side of the room, sitting on one of the old chairs, was Pierce. It was difficult to make out much of him besides his outline. Notably absent was her mom and it was with significant trepidation that Syn wondered what had happened between Pierce and her mom after Syn lost consciousness.

“You awake?” Syn spoke softly yet even that was enough to make her wince from the pain.

Immediately Pierce turned and rushed to kneel down beside her. He brought a small pitcher of water with him and before saying or doing anything else he dipped a rag into the pitcher and then held the soaked rag to her mouth. At first, Syn had no idea what he meant by it.

“Drink,” Pierce told her before adding, “I don’t think you can sit up yet to be able to drink from a cup.”

Syn obeyed and over the next short while all she did was drink water, with Pierce resoaking the rag as needed. With that done, Pierce set the pitcher and rag aside and then retrieved a different pitcher of water.

“I’m going to check on your wound,” he told her before pulling back the blanket.

Lighting a small oil lamp for light, Pierce withdrew a cloth from the second pitcher and began dabbing at Syn’s stomach.

“Where’d you find the lamp?” Syn asked in an attempt to provide herself with a distraction.

“It was in here, along with the flint and steel to light it.”

“How long has it been?”

“Only a day.”

“What about my mom?”

Pierce hesitated and then looked away, shame emanating from him.

“It’s okay,” Syn told him.

In all honesty, Syn didn’t know how to feel about the whole situation. She’d assumed that everyone had been captured that day. How her mom had managed to evade capture was beyond her. It was possible that she had escaped, much like Syn and Pierce, though Syn doubted she would ever know. Considering the wild and aggressive behavior from her mom, Syn wasn’t even sure they could have gotten those answers if her mom had survived.

“Syn,” Pierce said after a while.

“Hmm?”

“I don’t think I can fix your stomach.”

He’d extinguished the lamp already, and he was speaking in a calm manner, but Syn could still sense his concern. She tried to look at her stomach but, lying on her back as she was, couldn’t see it. She’d have to lift up her head and even the thought of attempting such a movement seemed to increase the pain she was in.

“How bad is it?” Syn finally asked.

“I’m not sure,” Pierce admitted. “I’ve tried to keep the area clean, and I haven’t exactly been poking and prodding to see exactly how deep the cut is, but…I mean, I’ve often heard how bad gut wounds can be if they hit certain organs.”

Pierce got up, moving with some uncertainty before crossing the room to the door and leaving. Syn stared up at the ceiling and wondered what she could do. It was doubtful that any of the few medical supplies the community had were still any good. More likely was that her mom had long since found and used them, along with the food storage. So much for their hope of finding what they needed here to enable them to make the even longer journey to safety.

Although, Syn thought, if her mom had been living here, maybe this place was safe. Maybe she and Pierce could stay here while she healed, see if they can grow a small crop, maybe trap some wild game. She could teach Pierce how to make the tools they’d need as well. Of course, all of that was assuming Syn would get better. If Pierce’s concerns panned out then he would end up stuck here without any way of knowing what to do or where to go. A part of her wanted to tell Pierce where it was that she was leading them, but she worried that once he knew where to go that he would leave her here to die alone. She wanted to trust Pierce but it wasn’t so long ago that he had threatened to turn her in if she didn’t agree to bring him along. They both knew how desperate they each were and desperation never made for the strongest alliances.

Soon, the sun began to rise and lighten the interior. Much of it was as Syn remembered it, though there was a small pile of boxes and sacks in the far corner by the wash basin. When Pierce returned he was carrying a few sacks in either hand which he added to the pile. He left again, returning some time later with more sacks and boxes. He repeated this process at least half a dozen times before he sat down and began organizing everything he’d gathered. The entire time he worked, he avoided looking at Syn. Sometimes she caught him glancing over to her but as soon as he became aware of her notice he would look away at once.

From what Syn could see, Pierce had managed to find some food and supplies. Perhaps her mom hadn’t been here all that long after all. Or maybe the community was better stocked than Syn had assumed. Either way, that was at least one issue they wouldn’t have to worry about.

“Finally!” Pierce exclaimed, rising up from the box he’d been going through and coming over to Syn.

“What is it?” Syn asked.

Pierce held out a small bottle for her to see.

“I found some iodine!”

He produced yet another cloth from a sack near Syn that she hadn’t noticed before. Pierce then proceeded to soak the rag and wipe it vigorously over her stomach and into her wound. Syn gasped from the shock but managed to keep from screaming out.

“I’m sorry,” Pierce murmured. “But I need to make sure it really gets in there to keep it all clean.”

Syn wasn’t sure if this was how iodine was supposed to be used, but she wasn’t in any position to argue. If this would improve her chances of survival then she would grit her teeth and accept it. Sweat formed and then ran down her face and, finally, she felt herself losing consciousness once more. Knowing she needed to conserve her strength, Syn didn’t resist and let herself slide into the waiting darkness, only hoping that she would wake up feeling stronger and that her overall healing would go as quickly as possible.