Chapter Text
The attack had left Alice winded. She was still getting used to that, the perceived weakness that came from being totally and fully human again. The attacker lay on the ground before her now. They weren’t undead, that much was for sure. The attack had been, well, not coordinated, but too coordinated for that. Alice nudged them over, careful not to get too close in case they were playing dead. Then her jaw dropped, lips parting in a soft gasp.
Claire?
***
Alice watched Claire warily from other other side of the fire. Night had fallen and it cast flickering shadows over everything, including the other woman’s face, which matched Alice for wariness. It had hurt, Alice had to admit, when Claire hadn’t recognized her. A lot more than she had expected it to hurt, too. She grimaced and shifted her weight, muscles twinging, face bruised where Claire had gotten some good hits in despite the clumsiness of her attack. If Claire had been fully cognizant—well, she probably wouldn’t have attacked Alice to begin with, unless it was out of frustration at Alice having been gone so long—her attack would have been a lot more effective. Alice probably wouldn’t have made it out relatively unscathed.
There was a bucket of water, which Alice had hung over the fire to warm. Steam had begun to rise from the surface, and Alice pulled it away, wincing when the heat from the handle burned through her fingerless glove. She’d put the water on not long after she’d knocked Claire out. The other woman was filthy, there really was no other way to put it. Dirt coated every inch of her. It was caked onto her clothing—which had held up surprisingly well considering she’d been out there for only God knew how long—and into her hair. And there was the smell, which Alice was decidedly not going to mention. Then Alice evaluated Claire’s expression, which was wildly distrusting.
Alice kept her movements slow as she carried the bucket closer to Claire and set it down with a thump and a faint sloshing sound. She sank down on her haunches beside the bucket, not quite within kicking distance. Claire’s wrists were tied and anchored to the defunct airplane Alice had made camp beside, but the still-feral woman’s legs were still free. Alice couldn’t bring herself to go that far.
Just as Alice predicted, Claire lashed out with her legs, missing Alice by inches. When she saw that she wasn’t going to make contact, Claire used her legs to push herself away, closer to the plane and further from Alice, the rope on her wrists straining.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” Alice said, lowering her naturally raspy voice until it was just above a whisper. “See?” Alice sat very still and tried to make herself seem smaller. Less threatening.
Claire’s nostrils flared, her chest rising and falling rapidly with every short, panting breath she took. Her pupils were huge, taking over her irises until only a thin ring of hazel remained. Still, she didn’t look panicked. Alice looked over her with a searching expression. No, Claire looked…defiant? Like if Alice removed the ropes she’d have a fight on her hands.
“My name is Alice,” Alice said patiently. “Alice. We met in the desert. Nevada. Remember?”
Just like the previous times, Claire didn’t respond, only looked at Alice with the same wary and accusatory expression. It was only fair, even if it wasn’t why Claire was looking at her like that. Alice blamed herself too. If she hadn’t let the convoy leave without her, she might have been able to stop whatever had happened. Frustration and guilt flashed through her, but she knew that if she asked what happened, Claire would give the same non-response.
“I’m your friend,” Alice continued with only a slight falter over the word friend, slowly reaching for the rag with one hand while keeping her eyes on Claire. “Why don’t we get you cleaned up a bit?” she suggested in a soft, soothing voice.
Claire’s eyes followed Alice’s slow, steady movements as Alice lifted the rag and dunked it into the bucket, soaking it in the warm water. Then Alice lifted it out again, wringing it to rid it of the excess. Claire stiffened, eyes flicking from the rag to Alice’s face. A muscle in Claire’s jaw bunched and her face was set into a scowl as she scrambled back as far as she could, the rope pressing on her wrists, whitening the already pale skin.
“It’s okay,” Alice said. “It’s just water, see?” Alice brushed the rag down the side of her own face and she resisted the urge to press into the heat. “It feels good.”
Quiet fell between them. Claire was strung tight, her entire body tense. Alice wasn’t sure if Claire wasn’t talking or if Claire couldn’t talk. There was no telling what the device Alice had found on Claire’s chest had done to her. From what Alice could tell, it had been pumping some kind of chemical or chemicals into her, but for what purpose? Why do that and then leave her out there? Unless she wasn’t supposed to be left, unless she had escaped. Even after Alice had removed the device, it had tried to crawl back to Claire. Like a bug on thin metal legs.
“It’s alright,” Alice said again. Her voice wasn’t smooth, she knew that. It was rough, but she did what she could to infuse it with a sense of soft calm. “I just want to get some of the dirt off of you. See?”
Alice kept talking, saying soothing nonsense as she moved closer and closer in smooth, painfully slow movements. So that when the warm, damp rag finally came into contact with Claire’s cheek, both women were startled. Claire hissed a little when the rag met her skin, but Alice was gentle as she wiped the dirt from Claire’s face. At first it only smeared, and Alice was forced to wring some of the water from the rag so that it could actually scrape away the layers.
“This would be better with a scrub brush,” Alice murmured as she cleared the grime from Claire’s hairline and gently wiped over her eyebrows and around her eyes. Claire’s eyes fluttered shut and then opened again just as quickly, as if she was afraid to let Alice out of her sight.
Alice couldn’t blame her really. If their positions had been switched, Alice wasn’t sure she would let Claire get so close to her. For a brief moment, Alice wondered if she should have secured Claire’s legs before attempting this, but then she decided it would have worked against building Claire’s trust. It worked both ways after all, and hopefully Claire realized that the less she fought, the more likely it was that Alice would release her. Alice wiped along the edge of Claire’s jawline and down the side of her neck. Claire shuddered, and Alice pulled away quickly. Alice felt a blush creep into her cheeks, which she hid by turning back to the fire and dipping the rag into the increasingly dirty water.
As the rag cleared away the grime, it revealed Claire’s fair skin, altered from the sun kissed tan she’d obtained from roughing it in the Nevada desert for years. She was paler, and Alice could see her individual freckles better where they scattered over her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. There was a bruise forming on one of her cheeks—probably from Alice. Guilt flushed through Alice at the sight of the mottled skin.
“See, that’s better,” Alice murmured, dipping the rag again. When she looked back up, Claire was still looking at her with a defiant expression, but her cheeks were flushed.
Alice wiped gently down Claire’s neck and then hesitated when she got to Claire’s clavicle. Alice looked up and met Claire’s eyes, blue on hazel. “I’m just going to clean where the…thing…was attached to you, okay?” she said, still keeping her voice soft and low. “I don’t want the wounds to get infected.”
It was difficult to maneuver in a way that didn’t feel like she was crowding Claire, but they finally settled into an arrangement that had Alice kneeling straddling Claire’s legs. It hadn’t necessarily kept Alice from crowding the skittish redhead, but it did give Claire an advantage if she wanted to knee Alice in the crotch. Alice supposed it was a compromise of sorts.
“It’s okay,” Alice murmured, shifting forward so that her thighs were pressed to either side of Claire’s. Their hips were nearly aligned. Alice could practically see Claire’s heart rate increase. The other woman was taking in fast, deep breaths, her chest heaving with the effort. “It’s okay,” Alice said again, sitting back a little to give Claire space to adjust to the new arrangement. “I just need to make sure the wounds are clean.”
When Claire’s breathing evened out and she relaxed minutely, Alice slowly leaned forward again. “Someone did a number on you,” she said, allowing her voice to rumble out of her throat in a low, soothing tone. “I wish you could remember what happened.” She wiped gently over Claire’s clavicle and then lower to the six puncture wounds the device had left in Claire’s chest, right between her breasts. Seven, Alice realized. When she’d first noticed the device, she had inadvertently caused it to move one of its legs into a new position. A seventh wound where there had only been six. Now the heat in her face was fueled by anger, which was marginally better than what had caused her blush before. Alice focused solely on the broken skin, resolutely ignoring everything else.
The wounds were shallow, clearly only used to anchor the device to Claire’s chest. Whatever drugs had been fed into Claire, they must have been subcutaneous. There wasn’t any sign of a deeper injection site. Alice frowned, dabbing at them with the hot rag. They would probably heal on their own, but Alice wasn’t taking any chances. She leaned over to the side, stretching to reach the first aid kit she’d carried over, and dug around until she found the antiseptic wipes. Claire keened as the wipe stung the first cut, and then she settled for letting out a quiet hiss when Alice cleaned the rest.
“It would suck for them to get infected after I’ve gone through all of this trouble,” Alice said as she moved from wound to wound. Then she cleaned the rest of the area above the neckline of Claire’s shirt.
When Alice looked back up, Claire was staring at her with an expression of frustration. As though she was trying to figure out the answer to a particularly perplexing question. Her eyebrows were furrowed over her hazel eyes and her lips were pressed together. The flush in Claire’s cheeks had intensified.
“Okay, I think that’s enough for now,” Alice said, pushing herself to her feet and sending Claire scrambling back again. “Sorry, sorry,” Alice muttered. She shoved her hand back through her chin-length dark brown hair. “Fuck.”
Claire watched Alice like a hawk as Alice gathered up some blankets from the other side of the fire. “Maybe tomorrow we can get the rest of you clean,” Alice said, dropping the blankets beside Claire. Maybe tomorrow the drugs or hormones or whatever would be out of her system enough for Claire to be more coherent.
Claire’s position tied up to the wing of the plane couldn’t have been comfortable, not with her arms raised above her head the way they were. Alice considered the other woman, then, before Claire had a chance to react, Alice untied the part of the rope holding Claire’s wrists to the plane and secured it lower on the landing gear. It wouldn’t be comfortable, but at the very least Claire would be able to lie down.
The blankets Alice had found were thin and old. There were holes worn into some of them from animals or insects or both. Layered, however, they were better than nothing against the cold Alaskan night. The ground had to be cold, and Alice hated to see Claire sleep without anything between her and it, but Alice simply couldn’t see a way to get a blanket beneath the other woman. Instead, Alice stepped forward, picking up one of the blankets. She wrapped it around herself as a demonstration.
“It’s warm, see?” she said, not sure how much Claire actually understood. “Warm.” She playacted burrowing into it and humming in content. “See? Now let me put it on you.” Alice took a step forward again.
Claire started to scramble back, tensing and her chest rising and falling with quick breaths. When Alice stopped, Claire calmed somewhat, and Alice sighed. She crouched down and then got to her knees. Smaller, Alice took an awkward shuffle forward, then she waited. Claire stared at her in confusion, but she didn’t try to get away again, so Alice shuffled forward until she was close enough to put the blanket over Claire.
At which point, Claire thrashed and very nearly kicked Alice in the face.
“Alright! Alright,” Alice said, yanking back but leaving the blanket over Claire. “What if I just…throw it on top of you?” Alice asked, feeling ridiculous. She’d fallen back onto the palms of her hands to avoid Claire’s heel and now remained there because it made her a more difficult target.
Dirt and grit slid under Alice’s palms as she pushed herself to her feet. The last two blankets, she tossed lightly over Claire as though she was making a bed and Claire was laying in the middle of it. They fluttered down, landing mostly centered, and Alice had to hope that it would be enough. Whatever the device’s purpose, it also seemed to have raised Claire’s body temperature or otherwise altered her ability to feel the cold. Though Alice was putting her nonexistent money on the first one based on how warm Claire’s skin had felt when Alice was cleaning her off.
The temperature was still dropping, so Alice put another large branch on the fire, sending up a shower of sparks that reflected in Claire’s dark eyes as she watched Alice from the other side. There was a soft thumping sound as Alice unfurled her makeshift bedroll. Other than that and the continuous crackling of the fire, the night was quiet. There had been no sign of any undead the entire time they’d been there, and Claire’s survival contributed to Alice’s theory that there simply weren’t any close enough to cause problems. It was refreshing, or it would have been if Claire had been fully in control of her faculties.
Alice lay down fully clothed and drew one of the blankets over her. From across the fire, Claire continued watching, and Alice fell into an uneasy sleep under the weight of her gaze.
***
Alice and Claire faced each other from opposite sides of the fire that Alice had revived soon after sunrise. Alice was staring at Claire with neutral blue eyes while Claire’s hazel eyes burned with frustration. “I don’t trust you not to run off,” Alice repeated. Between them, another bucket sat above the fire, water beginning to steam.
The muscle in Claire’s jaw was bunched. Her clean jaw, Alice felt like pointing out but didn’t. The redhead shook a dirty length of hair away from her face.
“Look, it’s cold, but we’re blocked here from the wind and I found clothes in one of the planes that should fit you,” Alice said. “I’ll untie you for long enough for you to get undressed, but that’s it. I can untie you again when we’re done so that you can put on the clean clothes.”
Claire watched her. She still hadn’t spoken, but the feral edge that had been in her eyes the day before was gone. It seemed a good night’s sleep, or at least a night’s sleep, had done something to help. Then, to Alice’s surprise, Claire gave a short nod.
“So you do understand me,” Alice said with a wry smile. “You won’t try to run?”
There was another pause before Claire shook her head.
“Okay,” Alice said and saw Claire’s eyes widen ever so slightly.
The knot securing Claire to the plane came undone quickly under Alice’s deft fingers and the knot holding Claire’s wrists together met the same fate. Freed, Claire rubbed her hands over her raw wrists, wincing when her fingers brushed over broken skin. A hand clamped down on hers, and Claire looked up, startled to find Alice standing close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from the other woman.
“Stop, don’t. You’ll get the wounds dirty.”
Claire yanked herself away but dropped her hands to her sides.
Guilt flashed through Alice. “We’ll clean them,” she said. Then she placed the bucket of water, now properly warm, beside Claire along with the rag. To her own surprise, Alice didn’t secure Claire’s wrist to the plane again. Instead, she slipped the rope through her own belt loop, painfully aware of Claire watching her every move.
“I won’t look. Just don’t make me chase after you, okay?” Then she turned around before she could see whether or not Claire nodded.
Alice’s heart was pounding, but somehow she didn’t think Claire would run. Besides, even if she did, Alice could catch her again. The lanky woman was quicker than the stocky redhead. Not by a lot, but by enough. That didn’t mean she wanted to have to do it though. The sound of clothes rustling and hitting the ground followed by a sharp gasp brought Alice back to the present.
“What?” Alice asked, half-turning before she could stop herself. She didn’t make it far enough to see anything, just enough to let Claire know that she was paying attention.
There was no answer, just another shaking inhalation followed by the quiet sound of teeth chattering. Ah, cold. “Sorry, it’s Alaska,” Alice said, turning fully away again. “The water’s hot.”
The aforementioned water splashed and there was the wet sound of scrubbing. Alice shifted her weight awkwardly, her back still turned. The longer she stood there, heat licking her cheeks, the more she thought that maybe she should’ve tied one of Claire’s hands to the plane again. All she had was Claire’s word, after all, and not even a verbal one at that. While that had meant a lot to the Claire that Alice used to know, there was no telling if that was the same Claire currently standing behind her with a hefty metal bucket within easy reach and no memory of their…their what?
It had been a friendship, Alice was fairly sure. The fast-developing friendship that came about in stressful life-or-death situations, but a friendship nonetheless. The heat in Alice’s cheeks grew. A friendship that, if Alice had read their interactions correctly, might have developed into something else if given a little more time and air to breath.
There was a soft tap at her shoulder, and Alice jumped before half-turning again. “Yeah?” she asked, her surprise showing in her voice.
There was a shuffling sound and Claire’s presence moved quickly away again. Alice closed her eyes briefly and then turned all the way around. Claire stood in front of her completely naked and mostly clean, though dirt still streaked her in some places. Her own nakedness didn’t seem to bother her, but Alice had to fight to keep her eyes on Claire’s face. Only on Claire’s face. Claire edged forward, holding out the rag, the wary look back in her eye.
The rag dripped water onto the ground as it hung limply in Claire’s hand. It was dirty. Mystified, Alice took it and looked back at Claire. The redhead’s throat convulsed as she swallowed, then with another wary look at Alice, she turned around, exposing her back where, despite her best efforts, there was still dirt smeared over her skin.
Oh. Alice’s skin warmed from her chest to the tips of her ears, and a long stream of curse words started up in her mind because she knew that she was pale enough for the flush to show. “You want me to help?” It was really more of a statement than a question, but Claire peeked over her shoulder and nodded stiffly. “Of course,” Alice said.
Alice wrung the dirty rag out over the ground before dunking it into the bucket of water. Dirt swirled over the surface, and the water had cooled so that it felt tepid against Alice’s skin. She watched her hand as it held the rag below the murky water. Then, mechanically, Alice lifted the rag and wrung it out again to get rid of the excess water.
Claire stood in front of her, every muscle in her back tense and waiting. The woman’s pale skin was bruised and caked with dirt, a lighter layer where her clothing had protected her from the worst of the elements. It was all bare now though. Alice swallowed and began to clean the dirt from Claire’s shoulder blades in light strokes.
When the rag touched Claire’s skin, she stiffened, hands fisting at her sides, but as Alice continued to clean her off, the redhead began to relax little by little. Every time a breeze snuck into their corner, Claire would tense again, a shiver wracking her body as the cold air came into contact with her damp skin. Alice shifted them—Claire yelping quietly in surprise and protest—so that they were farther from the plane and closer to the fire and the warmth it provided. Claire shuddered, melting a little in the warmer air.
The muscles in Claire’s back were knotted and tense and after only a moment’s hesitation, Alice kneaded into them, pressing as she continued to wipe away the grime. A low groan escaped from Claire and Alice felt it in the lower part of her abdomen, coiling there. Alice clenched her jaw but continued, hands shaking slightly as each press of the massage drew forth another sound from Claire’s lips. The redhead arched her back toward Alice like a cat, though whether or not she was conscious of it, Alice couldn’t say.
Once Claire’s back was clean, Alice let her hands drift down Claire’s sides to her waist under the pretense of cleaning what little dirt remained there. There was hardly any left though. The only way Claire was getting any cleaner was with a bar of soap while fully submerged, and that wasn’t currently an option. Alice swiped the rag over the lower part of Claire’s back, tracing the divots just above her ass. The redhead shivered, and there was a quiet crushing sound as Claire’s toes curled into the dirt. Alice dunked the rag again, but there really wasn’t anything more to do. She brushed the rag along the tops of Claire’s shoulders and right up along the back of her neck to her hairline.
“What do you want to do about your hair?” Alice asked, taking it in her hands. She’d pushed it to the front of Claire’s shoulders to give her access to Claire’s back, but now it was the only part of her body that was still as dirty as it had been when Alice found her.
Claire glanced back at her. A flash of confusion and suspicion crossed her expression, but it was replaced by determination. Then Claire Redfield bent over—shoving her hips backward toward Alice—and dunked her entire head into the bucket. She reached forward and scrubbed her fingers through her hair, dislodging dirt and leaves built up from what had to have been months of feral living.
When Claire moved, Alice froze and then took a startled step backward as Claire’s ass moved dangerously close to her groin. Heat flashed through her, smothered with a self-reprimanding thought. It didn’t go away but was reduced to a smolder, a warmth that settled into the space between her legs. Which was, of course, exactly what she needed right then. Alice shifted, pressing her thighs together to try to get herself under control. C’mon, Abernathy.
There was a gasp as Claire finally came up for air, flipping her hair up out of the bucket. Alice flinched as droplets of water splattered across her, almost as effective as a cold shower. Then she reached over and grabbed a blanket, opening it to hold out to Claire. “Here,” Alice said, looking now that Claire’s body was blocked out by the blanket. “Don’t get dressed yet. Not until you’re dry. The last thing I need is you getting sick.”
Claire took the blanket and wrapped it around herself like a towel. Wet strands of hair stuck to her face and dripped down her back, water soaking into the blanket. The redhead’s brow furrowed as she tried to rake her fingers through her hair only to be met by wet snarls that refused to give. She grunted and yanked, but Alice lunged forward and clasped a hand around her wrist. Claire skittered away, pulling herself free with surprising strength.
“Wait, just–” Alice held her hands up in a calming gesture, palms facing Claire, who watched her suspiciously. “Wait a minute.”
The top of the blanket bunched in Claire’s tight grasp as her hazel eyes followed Alice’s progress around the fire to her bag on the other side. Alice rummaged around and then whirled, holding up her find. “Ta-dah,” Alice said and then blushed.
Claire’s eyes widened and she reached out eagerly—Alice decided to take that as a good sign. The blanket dropped dangerously low, now only secured by one hand. Claire took a step toward Alice and the fire, the heat bringing the blood to Claire’s cheeks. Alice inhaled deeply, fortifying herself. The air was crisp and cold, slightly smoky from the fire. The ground was gritty but solid. The sky was pearl grey. Claire Redfield was mostly naked in front of her. Alice groaned internally.
“I need to restrain you again,” Alice said apologetically, trying desperately to keep her focus on the task at hand. “Believe me, in your hands, this is a potential weapon.” Then, under her breath, “In your hands, anything is a potential weapon.” The same, of course, could be said for Alice herself.
Claire blinked at her, hazel eyes narrowing. Then, to Alice’s surprise, Claire held out her wrists, leaving only her elbows to hold the blanket tight to her chest. Alice swallowed.
The skin on Claire’s wrists was still broken and raw, though clean, and Alice didn’t want to make that situation worse, so before she tied the rope around Claire’s wrists, she padded each one with strips that she tore off one of the thinner rescue blankets she found in one of the abandoned aircraft. Claire stood quietly and allowed it to happen, watching Alice’s face as Alice knotted the rope tightly, securing Claire’s wrists in front of her body.
“I’m surprised you let me do that,” Alice admitted, stepping back once she was done.
Claire tugged experimentally at the rope, her expression wary. Then she looked up at Alice, eyes searching Alice’s face for something. Whatever she found—Or maybe remembered? Alice hoped—caused the redhead’s expression to soften a bit. Then she sat down on the ground close to the fire, shivering despite her blanket.
“Sorry, I know wet hair is cold,” Alice said. Then she reached up and touched the blunt ends of her own now dark brown hair. Was the lack of desert-induced highlights preventing Claire from recognizing her? “Well, probably less cold for me. Less hair.” She was rambling, so she shut up and pulled the brush out from where she’d stuck it into her back pocket before settling down on the ground behind Claire. Again, Alice felt the woman tense the moment Alice was out of her sight. Clearly, despite whatever progress they had made, Claire didn’t trust Alice fully. That was probably a good thing. Alice would have been more worried if Claire had trusted her.
Claire hissed and yelped when the hairbrush almost immediately hit a snag and yanked at her scalp. There were so many knots. Ideally, Alice would have gone through with the end of a comb or something first, but as it was, she was lucky to have the brush, so she went through as carefully as she could in short strokes, working her way up from the ends of Claire’s hair and wincing when Claire made sounds of discomfort. The bucket of water, though now definitely dirty, helped. Alice dunked the brush when Claire’s hair started to get too dry to untangle, letting the water do some of the work. She wished she had conditioner or oil or something, but those were luxuries they hadn’t had in years.
Night was starting to fall by the time the brush was moving smoothly through Claire’s coppery hair. The parts of her scalp that Alice could see in the dimming light were angry and red from the brush’s abuse, but at least she wasn’t in danger of having to cut it all off. That would’ve been a shame. Thoughtlessly, Alice ran her fingers through the ends of Claire’s hair before she blushed, pulling her hand back as though she’d been burned. Not, however, before she thought she felt Claire lean into the touch. Just a little. Alice cleared her throat and pushed herself to her feet. Claire half-twisted to watch her.
“We should get some sleep,” Alice said. Then she jerked her head at the plane’s landing gear. “C’mon. Let’s get you secured.”
Claire frowned down at her bound wrists and then looked back up at Alice, angling herself away. She tugged at them, as though to demonstrate that she was secured.
Alice raised an eyebrow. “As fond as I am of getting stabbed in my sleep,” she said, trailing off.
Claire let out a low sound that wasn’t quite a growl but got most of the way there. It was the only fight she put up as she let Alice tie her to the plane again. Alice loathed to move Claire, damp and naked as she was save for the blankets, further from the fire, so she let out a length of the rope. Claire blinked, surprised that she wouldn’t have to move, then she settled deeper into her blankets, closing her eyes. Her eyes flew open again as Alice pulled an additional blanket partially over her head.
Alice jumped back, hands in the air. “Sorry,” she said, slowly lowering her hands again and taking another step away. “You just–Your hair is still wet. I don’t want you to get cold.” Her cheeks warmed, and her blue eyes flicked away to find safety in the shadows around them.
Silence fell and Alice felt the weight of Claire’s gaze, looking back only when it didn’t let up. Claire was watching her, hazel eyes careful and considering. Then, as though making a point, Claire nodded and burrowed further into the blankets until her face was nearly out of sight. Only her eyes were visible, glinting in the firelight.
Alice’s breath hitched in her chest and, like when she’d first met Claire in Nevada, she found herself incapable of speech. Like then, she nodded without a word. They hadn’t slept together in the Nevada desert, merely side by side in the trucks, passed out in the seats. Sometimes Alice wished they had, and that feeling translated to the odd emptiness she felt beside her as she curled into her blankets across the fire from Claire. However, now was not the time nor the place. Not with Claire’s memory loss, and not when there wasn’t even a history behind them. Alice wondered if it would be easier or harder if they had been together in the desert. She flexed her hands around the edge of her blanket and pressed her legs together, eyes slamming shut. A deep, ragged breath raced into her lungs.
It was foolish for her to wish for things to be normal. For her to wish for what they had back in Nevada, before Alice had left. For her to wish that she hadn’t left at all. Maybe they would have become something…something. But Alice had left, and she hadn’t come back until it was too late, or so it seemed.
Alice had been gone for so much longer than she had ever intended. Claire was going to be so angry when her memory came back.
***
Alice kept her back turned while Claire got dressed. The night had passed without event, and Claire was now entirely dry, so the first thing Alice did was hand over the clothes. She’d even found underwear by some miracle. So now she stood resolutely not looking at Claire as Claire pulled on the clean clothes, trying to tamp down the heat that hadn’t ever fully cooled. If only she could make some excuse to dunk herself in cold water. But she was already clean.
There was a quiet hiss of pain from Claire, and Alice whirled around without thinking only to be met with a mostly bare-chested Claire, her fair skin even paler in the places that rarely, if ever, saw the sun. What felt like all of Alice’s blood shot up to her cheeks, and what didn’t shot south. “Oh,” she stuttered out, and she was about to turn back around when something caught her eye.
Alice stopped and leaned closer, ignoring the rest of Claire—which was a feat—to focus on the puncture wounds on Claire’s chest. The wounds had already mostly scabbed over, and Alice could only hope that they’d gotten clean enough before they closed. The water hadn’t been clean, but the antiseptic wipes, even a few years old, should have done the trick. Alice grimaced. Infection wasn’t pretty even with antibiotics. The skin around the wounds didn’t look inflamed though.
“We’ll have to keep an eye on those,” Alice said, straightening back up to meet Claire’s wide, startled eyes. “Oh.” Alice realized how close she’d gotten to Claire and took a step back. She faced the tree line and rubbed her fingertips together. “Sorry.”
After a moment, the sound of clothes rustling returned, and it wasn’t long before Alice was tying Claire’s wrists together again, though looser than before. If the woman really put some effort into it, she might be able to get free. But then what?
Getting Claire into the back seat of the plane took a little more coaxing, but Alice managed it. She buckled the belt over Claire’s lap, testing it since she hadn’t the first time she used the plane. There hadn’t been a need. Once she was satisfied that Claire was secure, Alice got into the front of the plane and took a deep breath as she set up the video recorder on the dashboard. It had recorded her journey there. Alice didn’t see a point in stopping, even if there wasn’t anyone left to watch. Satisfied, she started the plane.
Alice had found Claire, and she took a moment to let that knowledge sink into her chest. Now, it was time to figure out what happened to everyone else.