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Sun scorched your eyelids, insistently urging you to wake up. But you didn’t move, half-expecting a gruff, deep voice to accompany the sunshine in waking you up. Something certainly felt missing when you didn’t hear it. A wave of panic rose within you, which you forcefully suppressed, almost like pushing down on the trash in an overflowing garbage can.
Everything’s fine. He’s around somewhere. You should stop worrying so much.
He wouldn’t abandon you.
A soft, uneven sigh escaped you, and finally, you get up from the bottom of a bunk bed that was so generously left by the previous owners of the cabins. Whatever was the case with the family of four that would stay here on so many holidays and vacations, it was safe to assume that they were not coming back. That’s what Simon said, anyway. You didn’t want to think much about what the people who lived here were like. Always made you sad. Who were the siblings whose stuff you were now using, strangers connected to you beyond the time and space, through a blanket littered with bees and flowers, or a ski jacket that was a tad too loose on you. Simon said you’ll grow into that jacket. You’ve been waiting for it to happen for months. Didn’t make much progress, though.
You shuffle out of the room, eyes still darting from one corner to another, looking for Simon, but all in vain. The man wasn’t in the cramped living room, either. Still, your eyes find his sleeping spot – right there, on the couch, a dent from his heavy body pressing the old, dusty couch pillows down, right under a messily thrown checkered blanket with some stains on it. You weren’t sure why he was still sleeping on a couch – it certainly wasn’t made to accommodate his giant form, but you didn’t question his quirks. A bedroom right across from yours was waiting for him, untouched, yet he chose to spend his nights beside the stove, on a couch too uncomfortable to get some actual sleep. You could never stop being amazed at his logic.
By the looks of it, it was already late afternoon and Simon was nowhere to be found in this cabin, a little too cold for your liking. Your eyes quickly dart towards the furnace in the middle of the room. You wrap a longer sleeve of your top around the palm of your hand, reaching out towards the handle you expected to be quite hot. Instead, you’re greeted with lukewarm metal, and underneath it, the sight of dull embers, with their blooming scarlet light generously pouring out onto the floor. Yeah, you definitely needed to add some more firewood to the pile. Or, if luck has it and the day was going to be warm, you could leave it as is. It was still winter, you had to keep that in mind, but even here in the mountains, it was much warmer than where you and Simon started your journey.
It wasn’t easy getting to the cabin, either. After that horrible day at the infested hospital, your sickness worsened, you were feverish, but thankfully, the stuff Simon grabbed from there was enough to keep your temperature down, and keep you on your feet. It also took you quite some time to let Simon out of your sight for more than a couple of minutes without breaking out into a silent crying fit, irrational fear taking over your mind completely. You…didn’t talk about it anymore, but before you found this house, it was quite tough. It still was, but not as much. Here you at least had a roof over your head, and you were warm, gifted with the spoils of the forest.
“Morning. You sure slept in today.” The door suddenly slides open, and a low, painfully familiar voice greets you, flowing through the room. You watch Simon shaking off the snow from his boots, the bag over his shoulder heavy with game, and roll on your heels, keeping yourself from running over to hug the man in greeting. How weird would that be. Simon, however, seemed to have noticed that, be it your downturned eyes, or fiddling with your fingers. So, he propped his rifle on the wall beside the door and approached you instead, affection in the form of a firm, reassuring side hug is given to you. A gloved hand rubs your shoulder and your worries melt away, even if your receiving of the gesture is quite stiff and awkward, you appreciate it nonetheless.
“Well, you know me. I’d rather be asleep than do something useful once in a while.” You say with a crooked smile, reminding him of his recent remark, which only causes the man to avert his eyes from you in an indiscernible manner. Shameful? Guilty? No, that’s ridiculous. Why would he feel something of sorts? Simon promptly let go of you, stomping towards the kitchen, silent and broody, as usual.
Your eyes follow his hands, putting the game bag on the counter, taking out his beloved knife, sharpening, methodical and slow. His motions almost hypnotize you, working at the blade with precision and care, silent in his concentration and focus. In those moments, you realized how you admired this big nuisance of a parent. You’d be gone for sure if he wasn’t there for you. He would’ve lived just the same if you weren’t there. A tear suddenly burns your eye and you rub it off in a hurried, rough motion.
“What’s for dinner?” You plop down on the counter, eyeing his back, feet dangling in the air. Not really thinking, just…enjoying the moment. Who knows, maybe in a few months you’ll have to be on the road again. It wouldn’t make sense, though. Simon told you that you’ve reached this mysterious “South” already, even if it was in mountains. So that’s well.
“Rabbit.” You nod and linger behind him, waiting for some instructions, words, a request… Anything. It went without saying that you were to help Simon around the house, he always had stuff for you to do (you weren’t quite sure how he managed to come up with all the tasks that seemed to never have an end to them), but now he was silent. Which only reinforced the uncertainty within you. Something must’ve happened. He won’t tell you, though. No way.
“I’ve been thinking…”
“What is it?” Simon’s voice cuts you off a little too rough, but you didn’t mind. He was just like that.
“Take me hunting with you, please?” You turn on your best pleading eyes, which is probably unnecessary, since the man is standing with his back turned to you. Simon is silent, giving you no response, while his knife expertly carves away at the small animal under his hands. Of course, you were used to him not talking, but for some reason, him not giving you an answer and choosing to play silent treatment scared and infuriated you all at the same time. “Da… Simon?” You call out to him, correcting yourself mid-word, poorly masking your mishap with a cough.
“This again, kid?” Simon mumbles, after letting out a heavy, weighed sigh. You didn’t know if you should feel offended or discouraged.
“What do you mean?” You gave him an incredulous expression, as if not getting what he was talking about. It was not your first time asking, and it definitely wasn’t his first time refusing to grant your request. Simon’s head turns towards you slightly, and he answers with “the look”, one he gives you when you’re being bratty or just too much. You wanted to hunt your own food. And you wanted to help him. It couldn’t have been easy, being up at five in the morning, pulling on heavy boots and dragging behind a rifle to hunt something down, but he insisted on doing it by himself.
“You damn well know what I mean. We’ve been over this over ten times.” It’s true, you asked him to take you with quite a lot, especially in the past month. Just because he said “no”, didn’t mean you couldn’t ask again. “It’s dangerous. You stay here, like I told you. Both of us have our own responsibilities. Yours just happen to be involving more of the housework, but they’re just as important as mine.” You open your mouth to respond, refute his statement and finally convince him, but he puts his finger up, already anticipating your antagonistic position. “It’s final, the discussion is over. For good.”
“But…” You’re effectively cut off by Simon’s booming voice once again.
“What’s the first rule?” He demands of you, daring you to defy him further. Your breathing is suddenly labored, heartbeat drumming in your ears. You could tell him all your opinions about him forbidding you things, all about his dismissal and overbearing behavior, but you’re silent. A minute passes, but Simon doesn’t turn around, patiently waiting for an answer from you, knife steadily carving away at a rabbit. You realize you’ve been biting back your lip so hard it started bleeding.
“Whatever you say goes.” You choke out from the depths of your chest, feeling a wild tremble within from how unfair it felt. To escape this overwhelming, strong feeling you jump down from the counter, free of your momentary paralysis, and retreat back to your room, not calm and collected in your defeat, but seething and shaky.
Deep down, you knew it was true. Up where you were living, the undead weren’t much of a problem, instead, there were quite many animals. In your time hiking the mountain you’ve heard the occasional variety of howls, yips and whatnot, saw an array of footprints left in the snow or mud, and some of them were of terrifying size. But there was no chance you’d just stumble into animals that dangerous. But more so, Simon was going on about it again. Danger. Your safety. Like you couldn’t take care of yourself. Like you were still that scared child, cowering in the corner with your cheeks stained by the tears.
You know he’s right. And you don’t want to fight. But damn you, if it didn’t feel shitty to be dismissed like that. Not even given a chance. You couldn’t help the bitterness that welled up within you at the mere notion of your lack of usefulness. You were tired of being taken care of. Not only that, but you wanted to do something for once, to help Simon. But he was stubborn as a bull, so fighting against him was like fighting against the tide of a river – fruitless and tiring.
The next reminder you get of him is a knock on your door, unsure and very quiet, unlike the man himself. Well, you’ve noticed he could be very quiet when he wanted to. More than on one occasion, he made you almost jump out of your own skin, sneaking around the cabin at night. The knock pulls you out of the state of uncertainty, almost a trance, staring at the wall with thoughts swarming inside your mind, much like a restless hive. With this uncertain knock comes an invitation to eat – you were supposed to be making dinner together today, but you…obviously skipped out on your cooking duty. Nonetheless, you accept it with some underlying reluctance lurking deep within.
“Listen, kid, I understand that you want to help out.” Simon finally drops, fed up with the silence that didn’t help the tension from the argument in the slightest. His face is uncovered, which still feels unusual, an occasion that became more frequent since the two of you managed to settle down for a while. For some reason, without that rancid balaclava, he looks vulnerable. Simon always seemed so untouchable, impervious, almost inhuman in his strength. But now, exposed like that in front of you, he looked…tired, more than anything. “I’m just…worried. I don’t want you getting hurt. One time was enough of a scare for the both of us, don’t you think?” His eyes find yours, but you don’t return his stare, eyes drilling holes in the plate of the stew on your lap.
“I know, I just…” You pause, thinking carefully about your next words. Not daring to look up from the spoon, submerged in the food. For some reason, looking at Simon right now felt like some violation of his privacy. “I don’t want to have to rely on you all the time.” You finally settle on something simple. Truthful. To the point. If he has something to say, he better be just as forward with you.
“Alright. I’ll think about bringing you with. How does that sound? Good?” Simon gives you a final verdict after a short pause, and that’s enough. Just considering an idea of you hunting together. You’re not asking for more. Simon is given a small nod from you, eyes still staring at the plate, like it was going to solve all your problems for you.
“Simon…can you be honest with me?” You finally blurt out before you can stop yourself, but it feels…right. Vulnerable and weak, and desperate for his love, his attention, his protection, but right nonetheless. How could it not be?
“I don’t know, can I?” Simon’s head tips slightly to the left, and the smile you see on his face warms you up better than any fire in the world could, even if made by his calloused, big hands, hardened by labor. You won’t ever tell him that, though. How weird would that be.
“Wow, you’re so funny, haha. Anyway.” Accompanied by your flat tone, the remarks cause the corners of his mouth to tug upright even further, but he stays silent. “You’re not really a mechanic, are you?” The look he gives you, especially with his face bare for you to see, would probably be accurate to call “deer in the headlights”. You heard him say it a long time ago, but these eyes, as big as saucers, were definitely it.
“Of course not.” Simon finally answers, shaking off the aftershock of being caught on telling a lie. It was a white lie, though. To keep you safe. Trusting. Not scared of what he was.
“Thought so.” You shrug, and Simon can’t help yet another smile. He didn’t care how you concluded that he was lying, what mattered is you saw right through him. Did him proud. He knows you were always a smart one.
“So, just for curiosity’s sake… How long has it been since you figure that out?” Simon finally asks, brown eyes finding yours once again.
“A long time. Not long after you told me, that’s for sure.”
“Nothing gets past you, does it?”
“Nuh-uh.”
“I used to be in the military.” Simon says with a sense of finality after a couple of minutes filled with silence. This chapter in his life will remain forever closed. There is no military anymore, no government, nothing at all that composed his life a long time ago. Only him and you, his little one that he…wants to take care of, protect. For as long as his body would allow him.
“It…makes a lot of sense, actually.” You nod along with a teasing glint in your eye. You notice Simon arch his brow at you, a silent ask to elaborate on what you mean. “You have this “sunshine and rainbows” thing going about you, that just screams “military”.”
“Yeah-yeah, laugh away at me, that’s what I’m here for.” The man waves off your ridicule with a kind-hearted, toothy grin. In the dull, orange light of the furnace, you could count each scar marring the skin of his face. Putting together a map of a life that didn’t exist anymore, one that had nothing to do with you.
“I will, thank you very much.” A comfortable silence falls over you in warm, flowing cascades, enveloping you in a pleasant feeling that would get lost on you in days of desperate hunger and cold. This, what you had here, allowed you to be…well, you. And you’d guess the Simon you had now was probably closest to what he was back when the world was not in pieces. You wondered what that Simon saw in you that day to take you in. What made him think it was a good idea, to grab a kid he didn’t know and run farther than the eye could see. At times, it was hard to crawl inside his head and try on his thoughts like that. “Hey, Simon… Why’d you save me?”
The question hit him like a damn fucking bus. Even the fact that you were questioning the reason behind it somehow made him want to ask only one question: “How could I not?”.
“Honest.” You warn the man in front of you, spoon pointing towards his chest in a bold demand.
“Honest?” Simon repeats with a heavy sigh tearing out of him. “I don’t have an answer you seek.” Simon watches your face fall, defeated. He didn’t really understand what you were trying to gouge from his psyche, yet continued, recalling his feelings when those eyes, soaked with tears, fell on him, fear and hope intertwined. “I don’t know. It was never in my plans, it just seemed right at the moment. I saw you, and right then I knew I had to protect you.” Simon answers, as honest as he could. You deserved that much.
Simon waits for an answer, an acknowledgment, anything from you, but no sound escapes your lips. You just stay silent. However, anticipating what your next question could be, he mutters, averting his eyes while making the simplest of confessions:
“I never regretted it. Not for a single moment.”
“Honest?” It is the only thing Simon hears you croak, barely audible and weak, after moments of silence that stretch for so long he’s almost sure the time stopped.
“Honest, kid. Honest.”