Chapter 47-The bed he made

Chapter 47: 47-The bed he made

Sarah and Dylan fell silent as another wave crashed and didn’t move from their spot.

They were too tired, too cold, too hungry, and too frightened to do anything but endure the harsh conditions.

Sarah slowly looked toward the horizon. There was nothing in sight, only black water. She thought about all the supplies they had bought: the food, medicine, fuel, water, and freezers. Everything they had worked so hard to gather.

How much would remain by morning? How much would survive another day? How long could an ordinary ship withstand this?

She didn’t know, and neither did Dylan. They were clueless about survival, the first time, they rode Aymara’s wave and benefitted from the work she put in.

Sarah felt that instead of cutting Aymara off, she should have used her to secure their footing in the apocalypse before cutting her off when they were stable.

She leaned close to Dylan and hugged his arm. The cold was freezing her up. Even though they were close, she couldn’t feel the warmth of him at all.

She has once felt the main character halo. That her life was written in pencil and she could erase the parts that didn’t work for her and do over. But even with a second chance, why did it still feel like she was just a cannon fodder?

---

Meanwhile, thousands of kilometers away, Aymara had absolutely no idea that Sarah and Dylan were suffering and if she had known, she probably would have rejoiced at their misery.

Inside the fortress, the temperature remained perfectly maintained by the system. The lights were warm, the heating system quietly hummed, and the air remained clean. The kitchen smelled wonderful, and a large hot pot continued simmering in the middle of the dining table.

Aymara sat comfortably in her chair, holding her chopsticks. Across from her, Nathaniel slowly ate his food.

"Try this," Aymara picked up a piece of meat.

Nathaniel looked at her. "I already have food on my plate, Mara. There’s no need to add me more before I finish eating the portion already on my plate."

"This one is better."

"You’ve said that about everything and my plate keeps piling up," he complained.

"Because everything is good," she praised, how could she not when she was the one who cooked.

She placed it into his bowl anyway. Nathaniel sighed, then ate it. His eyes softened slightly.

"It’s good."

Aymara smiled proudly. "I told you."

Outside, another hurricane screamed across the ocean, but the fortress barely moved. Aymara glanced toward the enormous windows as lightning illuminated the sky, then looked back at her hot pot and Nathaniel.

"More?"

Nathaniel looked at his bowl. "I’m still eating the last portion."

"That’s not an answer of whether or not you want more."

He sighed. "Alright, once I’m done with portion and feel that I still want more. I’ll let you know."

Aymara immediately smiled and added more food onto his plate in small portions . Nathaniel watched her with a helpless look on his face.

"You really enjoy feeding me?"

"Yes," she rested her head on her hand. "Taking care of you is my favorite habit. And I enjoy it because it gets better when you take care of me."

"Why are you so sure?"

Aymara paused. ’Because I almost lost you... because in my previous life, you died trying to save me... and I spent six years believing someone else’s lies... and I would rather starve the world than watch you and I go hungry again.’

But she couldn’t say any of that. So she simply smiled. "Because you’re my beloved."

Nathaniel nearly choked. "Aymara!" He paused, coughing slightly.

She laughed, loving every minute that he was startled because of her. "What?" She acted ignorant of what she was doing.

"You can’t just say things like that while I’m eating."

"Why not?"

"Because..." He stopped. He didn’t know what to say.

Aymara’s smile widened. She had successfully embarrassed him. For once, she was satisfied with how cute his reaction was.

---

Back on Sarah and Dylan’s ship, there was no laughter anywhere in sight. Sarah was still standing on the deck, and Dylan was still securing supplies as they battled another wave, and then another.

Their bodies were beginning to reach their limits. Sarah’s fingers had become stiff from the cold, Dylan’s shoulders burned from repeatedly dragging heavy containers, their stomachs ached from hunger, and their eyes burned from exhaustion.

Sarah looked toward the clock. "How many hours until morning?" Her voice was cracked and dry.

Dylan checked and replied. "About six."

Sarah’s face fell. "Six?"

He nodded.

She stared at the storm. Six more hours of this, and morning wouldn’t necessarily mean safety. The storm, the waves and the hurricanes could continue. They might have to endure another entire day or more.

Sarah swallowed hard. "How are we supposed to make it through the night?"

Dylan had no answer for her. For the first time since the apocalypse began, he didn’t have a reassuring lie to give her. He simply looked at the endless ocean.

"I don’t know."

Sarah’s eyes filled with tears, but she quickly wiped them away. She couldn’t afford to cry. Not now. If she started, she was afraid she might never stop.

Another wave struck. Hard. They both grabbed the railing. The ship tilted, Sarah closed her eyes, and Dylan tightened his grip.

Neither noticed the small box of food behind them slowly sliding across the deck and even if they did, neither had the strength to chase it. The box reached the edge, then disappeared.

Splash!

It hit the water and then disappeared under the heavy waves and that was the last they’d ever see of it.

Sarah opened her eyes and saw the empty space where it had been. Her lips trembled.

"Dylan..."

"I saw it," he said, too tired to make a big deal out of it.

"We’re losing everything," she cried. She couldn’t recall surving being that hard when Aymara had been in charge before.v

Dylan stared at the ocean. "No... Not everything," his voice was low, strained, almost desperate. "We’re still alive."

Sarah looked at him. He swallowed. "That’s enough."

But even he didn’t sound convinced. It wasn’t enough, he was freezing to death, his stomach was an empty pit hungry for food and Sarah was completely useless.

She kept looking to him for answers and calling out every time something happened, he loved her but that was a bit too much.

Had it been Aymara, the girl would have bend herself backwards to make him comfortable. She would have steered the ship herself, prepared him something to eat and then asked him to rest while she took watch and guarded their supplies.

Dylan closed his eyes and felt immense regret. He wished that he hadn’t let Aymara discover his relationship with Sarah, that way, she would be there, serving him.

’Did you survive these first waves, Aymara?’ he looked to the distance, eyelashes drenched and wet making his vision blurry. ’If we are struggling this much andjad time to prepare, then, you must have drowned by now.’

He shook his head and pushed away thoughts of Aymara. There was no point crying over spilt milk, he’d chosen Sarah and there was no going back. He made his bed, now he must lie in it.

"Let’s get through the night. Hopefully, the day will look up."