(Photo by Tom Fisk)

Consciousness was slow to return to Syn as she felt herself fading in and out of lucidity. Each time she felt herself coming back around it was as though heavy weights were strapped all over her body and it was only with incredible effort that she ever managed to shift her weight or turn her head before being pulled back into unconsciousness. She was never aware long enough to really look at anything and no sounds ever manifested to her ears.

Finally, her growing thirst broke through the haze and gave her the motivation to fully awaken. Her lips were dried and painful and she fully expected to discover at least a few places where they’d cracked and split. Her mouth was so dry that her tongue felt sticky and swollen. She didn’t dare attempt to speak for fear of the coughing she knew would likely be set off.

Syn shifted her weight ever so slightly, testing out how well or poorly her healing was going, and managed to prop herself up far enough to finally get a look at her wound. The skin surrounding the area was stained a brownish orange from the iodine Pierce had used to clean the area. The cut itself spanned her entire stomach and it was amazing to Syn that she was still alive. The edges of the cut were covered in thick scabs which prevented her from being able to see further into her injuries. On the one hand, that was good and probably meant she had at least some new skin growing to seal up the cut. On the other hand, she had no way of knowing whether or not her internal organs were piecing themselves back together correctly. For all she knew, her intestines could have been completely severed and so any waist her body produced would be dumped directly into her body cavity.

Judging from the light entering through the West facing windows, it was late afternoon or early evening. Looking around for Pierce she immediately noticed that the stack of supplies Pierce had gathered was significantly reduced. She looked around for her water jug next but it was nowhere to be found. Syn wanted to call out for Pierce but still wouldn’t risk it without first getting a drink of water.

Slowly, and with several sharp pains that increased her worries about reopening her wound, Syn managed to rise onto her hands and knees. She quickly decided to use one of her hands to help support her stomach and then began crawling along with her other three limbs towards the door. Even if she didn’t find Pierce right away, the well wasn’t too far from the house.

Once outside, Syn looked around for any signs of Pierce but to no avail. Maybe he’d gone out scouting or something, or hunting. It felt like an eternity before she could reach the well and then it was a struggle to pull up the chain connected to the at the bottom. All of the effort was worth it, however, when her lips touched the first drops of cool water. She forced herself to drink slowly, not wanting to overwhelm her body with too much all at once. Sitting as she was, resting her back against the squat stone structure that had been built around the well she looked over the valley. She could see most of the buildings now, some of which had collapsed since the last time she’d been here, but most looked like they were still in good repair. Further down into the valley she could still see the remnants of the fields where they grew their crops. To her surprise, the wheat field still had a significant amount of wheat growing in it, although that might have been because her mother had been here to work the land, rather than the field successfully reseeding itself over and over again.

Syn took a few more sips of water until her mouth and throat stopped feeling so parched.

“Pierce?” Syn called out as loudly as she dared and then waited. “Pierce?” she called again when no response came.

She hadn’t thought to bring anything with her to the well that she could have filled with water and now she regretted that oversight. Staying outside by the well wasn’t a very good option, though, so she reluctantly made her way beck to the house. Instead of returning to her bed, Syn positioned herself beside the pile of supplies and began inspecting what remained.

Most of what she found were empty containers. There were a few tools, mostly in bad shape, and some preserved foods like dried fruits and vegetables, and the mostly empty bottle of iodine. Some pieces of good cloth were also there and Syn used some of them to make a bandage, tied tightly around her stomach. She applied the last of the iodine to the bandages, just in case.

Night came and still there was no sign of Pierce. Even though she’d been unconscious for who knows how long, Syn still felt exhausted and returned to her bed to sleep through the night, still hoping Pierce would return. She didn’t sleep very well that night and woke up several times. Each time hoping to find Pierce had returned, and then being disappointed. Morning finally arrived and Syn set about searching for Pierce.

There weren’t many buildings he could be in and even moving as slowly as she did, Syn had searched pretty much every place she could think of. At last, she had to admit to herself that Pierce must have either left her for dead, or else had been found by a patrol and recaptured. No longer needing to look for Pierce, however, offered her little comfort. How she was going to survive on her own in her condition was beyond her. Even still, she hadn’t gotten this far to simply give up.

Returning to her house, she managed to eat a few pieces of dried fruit before going and filling up a pitcher of water at the well. It was quite a relief that as she forced herself to move around her pain seemed to lessen. She made sure not to get complacent and push herself too far, though. There were enough supplies to last her a few days at least, and if her mom had indeed been tending the fields then there ought to be some crops ready to harvest. If that were the case then with some luck she’d have a chance of making it through the winter. If she was still alive by Spring, then she should be healed enough and have sufficient food supplies to press forward once again. Losing Pierce would make things more difficult, since so many things become exponentially easier when there’s a second person helping, but there wasn’t anything she could do about that now. She just hoped that Pierce, if he was recaptured, wouldn’t give away her position. Even if he thought she was dead, just telling them about Syn might warrant them sending a patrol to check it out.

As she sat on the floor beside her bed, getting ready for her second night alone, Syn wondered at how quickly so much about her escape had failed to go according to plan and hoped that the biggest surprises were now behind her.

“Unlikely,” she muttered to herself and then crawled under her blankets. Tomorrow she’d make her way down to the fields and see what sort of condition they were in. Then she’d know for certain whether or not she had a fighting chance.