Stan Morris - Surviving the Fog

Time enough to obtain some information , Jean thought. There is time enough to decide whether or not I should get the hell away from here. If he is not lying to me about the time it will take them.

“Tell me about your camp,” Jean said.

So Howard talked about the camp. He told her about the Lodge that they were building. He kept mentioning someone he called, ‘the Chief,’ which she took to be the man in charge.

At one point, she heard Howard mutter, “I hope he doesn’t hang me for this.” Her heart raced when she heard that. She feared the worst.

“You don’t mean that, do you?” she asked. “He wouldn’t really hang you, would he? I mean, it’s not like he has actually hanged someone, has he?”

Howard looked at her. “Yes,” he replied seriously. “He did hang a man. And I helped him. But the man killed two of our people, and he raped two of our girls. But no, I know he won’t hang me. He might be pissed at me though.”

Damn it , thought Jean. What have I got myself into? “What will he do to you?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Howard said darkly. “Maybe have the Spears smack me around some. Serves me right, I guess, for taking off your clothes.”

Jean was bemused to hear this. “He might have you smacked around for taking off my clothes?” she asked.

“Maybe. He’s got pretty strict rules where girls are concerned.”

“Is he the only one who decides what happens in your camp, or does the majority rule?”

“Oh, he’s in charge. There’s no doubt about that. But he usually asks other people for their opinion. He’s got, like, a Council of people that he always asks. I’m on it. Most of us are the Spears. We vote on lots of things. And our girlfriends get to vote usually. And a couple of girls are on the Council, too,” Howard related.

“So your girlfriend gets a vote because she’s your girlfriend,” Jean stated.

“That’s right. Not that I have a girlfriend,” Howard added. And I’ll probably never have one after this, he thought gloomily.

Male dominated society , thought Jean. Typical of what happens when civilization reverts to a more primitive state. But it doesn’t sound too bad. They seem to have a brute of a man controlling them, but it sounds like it’s not a total dictatorship. At least he asks for varying opinions. Maybe I can live there until I feel better. And maybe I can use this kid.

“You know,” Jean drawled slowly. “I don’t have to tell the Big Chief that you took off my clothes.”

“Really?” Howard perked up. “You’re not mad at me for that?”

“Not really. It was in a good cause, I suppose,” Jean said magnanimously.

“Oh, thank you,” responded Howard gratefully. “You know, I was thinking that I could make a fire and dry out your pan… I mean your underwear. At least you could wear them.”

Jean blinked. “At least,” she agreed.

By noon, Howard had delivered a dry pair of panties and her bra to Jean.

“Uh, they got a little singed,” he explained with a sheepish look.

Jean took the pieces of her scorched underwear, examined them, and sighed. “They’ll have to do,” she said sadly. “Could you?” She pointed to the entrance to their shelter.

“Oh, sure,” said Howard, and he quickly crawled out of the hollowed space.

Jean pulled on her underwear, glad they were warm from the fire. She crawled over to her other clothes and examined them. Too wet , she decided. Much, too wet . She thought about it and shrugged, and then she crawled out of the tree. Howard was standing by the fire. He glanced at her, and then he looked away.

“It’s, okay, Howard,” Jean said. “We’re going to be spending the day together, so it’s no use trying to avoid looking at me. So take a good look right now, and get over it.”

Nervously, Howard looked at her, swiftly moving his eyes up and down. Then he stared into her eyes and exclaimed, “Wow, you’re beautiful!”

Jean almost laughed, but she kept her composure and replied politely, “Thank you.”

She had no doubt that Howard would think that any woman under the age of thirty would be beautiful, if she were dressed only in her panties and bra.

Howard looked away. Well, that was dumb, he thought. She’s probably been told a million times that she’s beautiful, and by a lot cooler guys than me.

Howard gave Jean more food, and Jean quickly wolfed it down. She was feeling better than she had felt in a long time, except for a faint but annoying throbbing in her head.

It was warmer, but Jean was feeling chilled, so she crawled into the shelter, and then into the sleeping bag. Howard followed her into the shelter. Jean looked around.

“Where’s your sleeping bag?” she asked.

Howard looked at her, and he blushed. Jean’s eyes narrowed. She looked at her bag more carefully.

“This is a double bag,” she stated. “Where did you sleep last night, Howard?”

“You were cold! You were shivering. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“So you thought that it would be a good idea to share bags, huh? Share body heat? With a helpless naked woman?”

“You’re not going to tell the Chief, are you?” Howard asked, once more feeling doomed.

Jean glared at him. “Were you naked, too?”

“No! I kept my briefs on.”

“Your briefs?” Jean thought about that. “All right. It’s our secret then.”

“Thanks, Jean,” replied Howard with a sigh of relief, wishing that he wasn’t so tense and nerdy in Jean’s presence.

Jean and Howard talked some more, but eventually her aching head made her want to sleep again. She closed her eyes, but after a while, she realized that she was not really warm. How can I get warm ? She knew. She grimaced as she realized that she had no other options.

“Howard,” she called. He was just outside, and he quickly crawled into the shelter.

“Jean, what is it? Are you okay?”

“Howard, I’m cold.”

“Oh. I’m sorry, but there’s no room to make a fire in here.”

“Howard.”

“Yeah?”

“Get in the bag.”

Howard gaped at her for a long minute, as her eyes avoided settling on his. Then he almost smiled. For some reason, he didn’t feel quite as dumb now.

“You want me to get in the sleeping bag?” he asked.

“Got it on the first guess.”

“With you?”

“Smart man.”

“While you’re wearing nothing but your underwear?”

“What? Do you want me to get naked again?” she exclaimed. “Get in the bag, Howard!”

Howard started to get into the bag.

“Take your clothes off, first,” Jean said wearily.

Howard paused, glanced at her, and then he removed all his clothes except for his briefs. He got in the bag. They lay stiffly, side by side.

“I’m not warm yet,” Jean muttered.

“Lift up,” Howard said.

Jean lifted her upper body, and then Howard slid his right arm under her shoulders. He grasped her shoulder and pulled her onto him, so that her face was lying in the crook of his arm against his chest. He realized that she was a little shorter than him. For some reason, he didn’t feel doomed any longer. In fact, he felt good. He felt damn good.

“Are you warmer?” he asked, after some time had passed.

“Uh huh,” she replied drowsily. She fell asleep. After a little while, he did too.

Slowly, Jean realized that she was awake. She had trouble remembering where she was until, after lifting her head, she looked into the face of the young man sleeping next to her. She felt hot, and groggy. It seemed as if she was in some kind of dreamlike state. For a moment, she wondered if she was dead, if she had died after she had fallen, tired, worn out from two months of living in the forest, and terribly hungry. She remembered feeling the rain beating down on her back. She remembered trying vainly to rise and then slumping for the last time. After that, she accepted that she would die there beneath the trees. She went into her head, into a peaceful place. Her only regret was that she would never know what had happened to the world.