' fireās almost out. ' said charlie. it was an observation, a disenfranchised news report. tonightās forecast: full moon, cloudy skies, and impending darkness. somewhere to their left, the radioāa real oneāwasnāt playing the news at all. it was playing music, garbled lyrics and muted synth. occasionally the signal broke and static poured through the speaker.
' i, ' began lis, getting up. she stretched her arms, cracked something in her back, rolled out one ankle at a time. she looked like she was warming up for something: a sprint, maybe. or a marathon. depended on monroe, really, and how far she could run. how much she wanted to survive. ' need pants. the mosquitoes are killing me. '
' the fire, ' mumbled charlie, half-heartedly, ' needs wood. '
' be right backāif i donāt get murdered by a giant mosquito or an evil, masked killer! ' hahaha. lis thought this was funny; charlie thought it was annoying.
he frowned at the ground. ' if the fire doesnāt get another log, itās going to go out. '
lis shrugged, pulling her hair back and over her shoulders. but charlie was right: the fire was eating itself out of existence, shedding itself to the bone. smoke was already veiling monroe in a funeral shroud. ' iāll see if i can find naomi, ' she added, then made her way down the pathāand right past the stack of wood.
the radio cut out again, tshhhhhhhhhhh. a loon let out its wistful, mournful cry. maybe it missed the music, as charlie did.
' ⦠i thought ⦠she was going to ⦠' charlie let the thought die, sputter out with the last few flames. he didnāt watch lis disappear into the night. he didnāt look monroe in the face. he didnāt look anywhere at all, because the axe was in his peripheral, propped against the pile of logs, and he thought that if he looked at it, it would give him away.
he started up again: ' the fireā '
@pixistic, ' ādo something about it or shut up already. '
charlie went very, very still. he was looking at her now. it was the first time heād done so all night, perhaps the only time heād done so since theyād met.
he thought she had the biggest eyes heād ever seen.
' no. ' he said finally, quietly, after far too long. the fire was nothing but coals, and the coals were quickly fading to nothing but ash. soonāin one minute or in twoāthe darkness would set in.
and maybe she was safe or maybe she wasnāt, and maybe heād kill her or maybe he wouldnāt. no matter how the story ended, the fire, the night, the light could not protect her. but maybe it could keep her warm.
if she kept it burning, that is.