Frostbite & bruises

After a few shaky breaths, Morgan walked over to the shelves and let her eyes wander over the tins, bags, jars and boxes. Most of the tins, though torn and faded, still had the label on them, so at least she knew what was inside. The jars also revealed their contents after some inspection. At least the glass jars, the stone jars she left alone as the lids were sealed with wax. One day she would ask one of the men how or what was inside.

To her surprise, the jars contained several kinds of vegetables. She saw potatoes, onions, garlic and some old winter carrots. It would make a hearty soup, she thought, and quickly put the vegetables into her bag.

Curious, she walked over to the sacks. Carefully, she opened one and saw that it contained a thick towel with something heavy wrapped inside. She quickly opened the towel and to her surprise saw a jar inside with ‘flour’ written in large letters. Morgan’s heart leapt. Could it really be...?

Lifting the lid of the jar, she let out a squeal of delight. It was flour! Real flour! It had been more than two years since she had held flour in her hands. Flour was worth more than gold these days.

“Be careful with that!” Startled by his sudden warning, Morgan almost tipped the pot, but was able to hold it up in the nick of time with her chest.

A small white cloud rose from the pot, and although she had been terrified by the man’s gruff voice, the smell of the flour made her smile again.

“Don’t worry, I will be very careful with it, but can I take some with me, I would like to bake a loaf of bread again...”

Almost pleadingly, she looked at the man who was watching her with a grim face from the entrance.

“Do you have any experience of baking bread over an open fire?”

She nodded excitedly. “Yes! And thanks to Mads, I’m quite good at it!”

Morgan saw his eyebrows rise at her enthusiasm, but he remained silent. Finally he nodded.

“Just take the whole jar... If you’re as good as you say you are, you can make a few more and we can freeze the rest.”

Her eyes began to shine with pleasure, and for a moment she forgot about their deal....

Nox could have kicked himself for asking the woman to follow him to their stockpile. What was he thinking? That she would stop being afraid of him?

With his back to the cold wall of the corridor, he stood at a distance, watching the woman with narrowed eyes as she took in the contents of the large shelf with surprised eyes.

A smile formed on his lips at the sight of her growing enthusiasm and he relaxed a little.

Until she reached the burlap sacks.

Tense, Nox stood up, his body ready to react if necessary.

So when the woman let out a scream, he shot towards the door, but to his relief, her scream was not because she had almost dropped the precious flour, but probably out of surprise that there was flour in the jar at all.

After they’d returned and Nox had dropped her off in the living quarters, he’d gone back downstairs to get a supply of arrowheads and shafts. Now that there were more of them, the meat supply would undoubtedly need to be replenished. He quickly glanced at the barometer on the wall by the door.

Satisfied with what he saw, he went back to the large steel cupboard where he always kept his hunting equipment. He took out two solar pans and placed them next to the door. If all went well, tomorrow would be sunny with little wind and he could recharge the batteries.

But if the small group stayed longer, it would be useful to find more panels. Nox sighed, that was a worry for later...

As he gathered his equipment, he heard someone coming down the metal stairs and from the sound of it, it had to be the old man. Nox had already noticed a slight limp in the man’s gait.

“What?” He knew he didn’t have to be so rude, but it was the only way he knew how to communicate with strangers, to keep them from getting too close. He didn’t like people getting too close, it was an unnerving feeling, Nox always had the feeling that they were testing him, watching him, looking for his weaknesses. And according to his parents, family and friends, he had plenty of them. Well, flaws or no flaws... he was alive and they weren’t... being antisocial had its advantages, ... oh yes, that’s not right, he wasn’t antisocial, he had autism... as his brother so nicely explained to everyone.

Nox couldn’t care less. Antisocial or autistic, he just didn’t like people with all their emotions, their lies, their backstabbing. He always tried to do the right thing, even if people didn’t see it that way.

And now the old man came to him... It probably had something to do with the woman, what else could it be?

“What’s your business with Morgan, Pall?”

Slowly Nox turned around.

The old man, arms crossed and chest puffed out, stood behind him, glaring at him angrily.

Nox cocked his head slightly to one side. He had become an expert at reading people and this old man wasn’t going to stop pestering him until he knew what he wanted to know.

“None of your business, old man. I made a deal with her, not with you... If you want to know what our deal is, just ask her. But I guess you already did, and she didn’t tell you either, did she?”

The old man huffed. “I will find out, mark my words. But if you hurt her...”

Annoyed by the old man’s meddling, Nox strode over to him, stopping only inches away.

“I have no intention of hurting anyone, so back off!” He growled, shoving the man roughly aside and striding up the stairs in a rage.