Adina's fever burned through her like a vicious entity possessing her body. Being sick was a normal part of life in the wastes. You either survived it or you didn't. But she'd never been sick like this, even when she'd nearly died of influenza when she was sixteen. The awful feeling of being too sick to sleep and everything else that came with it wracked her - when she was coherent enough to understand what was happening.
Her skin burned, every brush or touch searing like a brand while what felt like worms of ice and fire squirmed in her guts.
And the fever dreams - sometimes she knew they were just dreams...
Raiders shrieked in her ears, their hands hooked claws in her nightmares, tearing her skin. Their eyes were burned black into hellish, soulless pits.
Awful screaming...
Terrified, shrill, then suddenly silent. That was what tore at her soul. The things she knew weren't nightmares.
She threw her hands out at the raider trying to stop him as he hacked at a boy, Frere. He was thirteen. The raider shoved her away. Then he just kept hacking and hacking. Her nausea at the sound the weapon made and how Frere stopped screaming overwhelmed her again.
"Adina. It's alright..." Asher's voice seemed so far away. It was gentle and reassuring. He was holding her arm to keep her on her side. There was a pan. She was throwing up into it. "You're safe..." Then everything disappeared again.
Again and again the horrors of the hours before Asher spirited her away rose up and attacked her. In the night, in the day...
It had gone from day to night before Adina opened her eyes and actually saw what was in front of her. But even then, her mind was filled with flashes - pain, vomiting, Asher's face bulged, growing freakishly large and then small again in her pulsing vision.
She could see other figures. Raiders danced in and out of focus, shrieking their terrifying battle cries. She screamed and fought, lying next to the pools, a cold sheet over her. The raiders were everywhere and so was Asher.
His eyes were burned to black pits too. She shrieked and pushed him away, but she was too weak to fight. His burning face twisted, every millimeter of her skin felt like it was under a blowtorch, being struck with a hammer. His hands, gentle on her face felt like they were peeling her skin off.
"It's alright Adina. It's just the fever. You're hallucinating. They're not real. They're not..."
Real..
His words turned to a fading echo as wild, feral faces filled her vision again, raiders in their terrifying war paint. She felt hot blood again as a raider slashed one of fuel men who'd thrown himself between them.
"Shhh... It's alright."
Everything ached, even Adina's eyelids hurt as she slowly opened them. She couldn't tell if it was day or night. There were long shadows that might have been from lanterns, or from the sun cutting through the buildings above the rift. When she moved laces of fire seemed to run through her muscles, as if her whole body was a leg she'd sat on for too long.
She was on the cot again. As consciousness finally settled in, she could tell it was night. A fire was burning a few yards away with pots and a kettle on stands over the coals. She looked for Asher. He was lying on the ground next to her, his right arm propped on the edge of the cot, his hand closed around hers, snoring lightly. She let her head fall to the pillow again and just watched him for a moment before she closed her hand around his.
He jerked awake. When he saw her looking at him, he became as still as a statue, his lapis blue eyes traveling over her face.
Her heart tugged hard at the worry she could see there.
His hand closed around hers and he pushed to his knees, his other hand moving to her face, then her neck feeling for her fever. A relieved smile split his face.
"There you are."
She shifted her head to see him more easily with a grimace and small hiss of pain. "Here I am." She drew his hand up and kissed his fingers.
He pushed hair out of her face, lightly trailing his fingers over her brow and temple. "You had me worried." He bent and gently kissed her forehead.
"Why?" She let her eyes close and shifted over onto her back. Even now she could feel strength returning to her muscles.
"You've been sick for over three days." He lifted a wet cloth and ran it around her lips, wetting them, then squeezed it. Cool water flow into her mouth. She drank. Her throat was raw, it hurt initially but quickly eased. "Do you think you can drink some more?"
She nodded. Now that she'd had something, she was parched. He helped her sit up, tucking the blanket around her naked body. Her hands shook, but steadied as he helped her hold the canteen, watching her eyes. "I was afraid I was going to lose you."
She drank carefully, but it only took a few swallows for things to feel more normal. When she'd finished, she rested against him feeling strength flow back into her. "You said it would only be a day."
She felt him nod. "It should have been. A day, maybe a day and a half. Whatever the inoculant was trying to get rid of had a real hold on you."
She was suddenly
starving
. She stayed tucked up against him, just resting and looked around. Where her clothes had been hanging, a towel, the sheet she'd remembered being wrapped in and a few other things hung.
"I don't want to do that again."
She felt his lips on her forehead. "I bet. I wouldn't want you to either."
She smiled as much at his warm tone as the words. "I'm hungry."
She looked up; he was smiling at her. "Good. I was hoping you'd say that." He sat back steadying her. "You okay to sit up on your own?"
She adjusted herself to get comfortable. "Mmm hmm."
He stepped away and poured something that looked like broth into a cup and brought it back. "It's not very interesting, but it's what you need. Careful, it's hot." He handed her the cup and she passed it from one hand to the other blowing on it until it was cool enough to drink. It was strong and salty; she could taste fat in it. She took a few drinks, the heat from it seeming to help spread strength back through her battered body. "It's good. What is it?"
"Boar marrow broth. I threw in extra salt because you need it." He smiled again and sat on the cot next to her. She leaned against him again, tucking the blanket up and hugging the cup to her. She suddenly realized it was cold out. "What now?"
He put his arm around you. "We let you rest for a day or so, see how you feel and then I'll start training you."
She lifted her face. "Training me?"
His expression was serious, but the creases between his eyebrows weren't there. "If we're going to be together, you need to be able to protect yourself. You need to know how to fight, how to shoot," he nodded to the truck. "and how to drive the Bearcat."
"Bearcat?"
"That's what we call them."
She looked at the Bearcat and back to him. "You're going to teach me to drive that? And to fight?"
He nodded. "And a lot of other things." His expression softened. He watched her eyes, then leaned down and gave her a soft kiss on the lips.
Adina's body felt like it caught fire. She wanted to grab him, but her hands were occupied with the broth and holding the blanket around her. She pressed her lips hard against his. The kiss was long and lingering and when he pulled back, she was still leaning forward wanting more.
He smiled again, a wide, playful thing. "You need to get some rest before we go much further down that road." He ran his thumb lightly over her lips. "I just wanted you to know what I'm thinking."
"I like what you're thinking," she answered breathlessly, having to concentrate to not dump hot soup all over herself.
He got up and when he came back, he was carrying a stack of clothes and a pair of boots. He set the clothes on the cot next to her, the boots on the ground. "I grabbed some things that I thought should fit you." He pointed to the boots. "They seemed to be about the right size." He pointed back to the truck. "There are more things in the Bearcat, but I washed these since they seemed like the closest fit."
She looked at the trousers, shirts, underwear, there were even a couple of jackets.
"Where did you get these?"
The matter of fact expression was back again. It wasn't intense or angry, he'd just closed up a little bit. "From people who didn't need them anymore."
She looked at the stack of things, her heart sinking. "From my town? After the attack?"
He nodded. "Yes." He watched her expression intently.
As she looked at the clothes and boots, images of people she'd known flashed through her mind.
Had one of them been wearing these when they died?
She turned back to Asher. Like everything else about him, there was brute practicality in what he'd done, the straightforward logic of survival.
"One of my friends could have been wearing these..." She couldn't say the rest.
He nodded, a slow understanding thing. "I'm sorry for that." He pointed to a rock. "Your other clothes are over there if you'd be more comfortable just in those. But you'll need a change of clothes." He pointed to the boots. "And those are better than yours. I'd wash anything else from the bag in the Bearcat before wearing it."
She just watched him. He was so hard at moments like now, after being so gentle seemingly only a breath before. Confusion roared up in her again.
He scared her. And aroused her. And there were so many other feelings crashing through. She finished the broth and handed him the cup.
"I'd like to clean up."
He pointed again to where her clothes were. "The towel is on the rock with the soap."
She got up, holding the blanket around her and gave him another glance before walking to the pool. Her confusion only deepened when he didn't follow or say anything.
