WINTER - PRESENT

It was funny how irony worked. Attics were the best bet if you wanted to remain safe and far from infected. But during the summers, attics would be the hottest in the entire house. So hot that sleeping fully clothed was something to seriously consider. Attics were by far the best insulated; but during the winter? That was a different story. Forget about insulation and trying to keep warm—it felt no different than sleeping outside. That's how it was for the past four weeks, but there was something different about the houses once James and Caleb crossed into Denver.

Fortunately, a couple of the houses in Denver had a very classic, old timey feel to them. Even if you had never witnessed architecture or knew what it was, you could certainly tell apart the differences in style—which was older and which was more modern. Especially after sleeping in house after house, church after church, and building after building. The conscious brain could just pick up on these things. You could take what you saw from James' magazines, random books, and even photo albums, and just piece it all together.

Majority of the attics in Denver possessed a small, black, little woodstove, and attached to the woodstove was a long funnel that would shimmy its way up along the walls and through the ceiling like a chimney. As eager as the boys were to sleep in front of a lit woodstove, finding the most essential part didn't come easy. Venturing out, they made it their personal duty to gather a shitload of sticks and branches, enough to completely fill both of their backpacks. They hiked back home, threw it in the woodstove, and ran back just to grab some more that would accommodate the time they planned to stay.

The warmth that radiated from the woodstove was a blessing, and the boys couldn't be more thankful, but it just seemed like total comfort was just too much to ask for. Each time Caleb would close his eyes and doze off, he would be awoken by a whooping cough. With opened eyes, he stared at ceiling and gave a silent exhaled with annoyance. Turning to his side, hoping that it would made a difference, he was sadly mistaken once James coughed again. Groaning, he sat up and turned to look at James who was sitting beside the woodstove; back pressed against the wall, eyes closed, head craned back. Hoping to get an unnoticed peek at Caleb, it was a glare he recognized down to a tee,

"What?" James asked, slightly feeling ashamed.

"Nothing…" Caleb said, sitting up.

"Am I too loud I'll go downstairs if you want."

Caleb pondered for a moment.

"You can say 'no, it's fine' a little quicker…"

Subtly smiling, Caleb looked down at James' hands. Resting underneath his folded palms, was a familiar looking photograph, and once the light from the window hit it at the right angle, Caleb could see that it was his family photo. Almost in denial at first, Caleb reached forward and snatched the photo from James' fingers. Looking at it just to confirm, he stared at his mother & brother's face,

"I'm sorry. I just…I didn't think it would…" James paused, "Since you opened up to me about him, I thought it was okay…"

Caleb reached across James and opened his bookbag. He tossed the photograph in between a magazine to prevent it from crumbling any further. Returning to his spot of blankets, he attempted to fall back asleep, this time turning his back to James. Body language just spoke so much.

"You mad at me?" James questioned.

"No…" Caleb said, mixed in with a sigh.

James extended his leg forward and slightly nudged Caleb's shoulder. Caleb sat up and turned his head to give an irritated look that James, for some reason, loved seeing. After Caleb laid back down, he felt a nudge on his shoulder again,

"Stop," Caleb said without lifting his head.

"Or what?" James said, egging him for a reaction.

With his foot, James tapped his shoulder again. Caleb eventually made it to his feet, and James quickly did as well. James, however had a toothsome smirk on his face. It was clear that he planned for this to happen. Caleb, tilted his head to the side as he picked up on it and kept the usual dry expression on his face. James reached forward and grabbed Caleb by the collar of his coat and attempted to pull him in. Caleb submissively allowed himself to be reeled and was inches away from James' face. Caleb squinted his eyes with a subtle smile and challenged him by looks alone.

"You mad, Caleb?" James asked. He gritted his teeth and the muscles in his jaw could be seen emerging as his hold tightened. His face was closing in with the intension to start some excitement, "Huh?"

Just as he thought he had the upper hand, Caleb flawlessly overthrew him. He turned away raising his palm to James' face.

"I already told you, I can't afford to get sick."

"Come on. Let me Infect you with my sickly germs. It'll only be a matter of time before I do," James said, attempted to plant a wet one again. Getting no response at all from Caleb, James let out an obnoxious groan, "Fine."

It was so unsurprising coming from a sourpuss like Caleb. James rested his nose against Caleb's cheek and imitated the snort sounds of pig, hoping to get something romantic started…but no. He did a decent job at hiding his disappointment, and he eventually released Caleb's jacket. Caleb walked to the back of the room and grabbed two handfuls of thick branches. Returning to the woodstove, James quickly assisted by holding the woodstove's cover open. Caleb kneeled and glanced up at him with a small nod,

"Thank you."

Caleb carefully tossed the sticks into the woodstove and watched the flames grow. James kneeled beside him and spoke,

"You're not telling me something," James said, addressing the elephant. Caleb didn't answer, leading James to appreciate his profile—his fiery hazel eyes, long eyelashes, pronounced nose and thin lips. Caleb could feel the glare, but pretended he didn't notice it. After Caleb was emptyhanded, he felt a hand rest on his thigh, "Is it because we have pick up where we left off soon?"

"No," Caleb lied.

"You know," James said staring into the woodstove as well, "I know you so well, I can tell when you're lying. When you give one worded answers, you're usually annoyed. And if it's a 'yes', 'no', or 'maybe so', you're lying."

"That isn't true," Caleb said looking over at him.

"So, you're okay with this whole trip to San Francisco?"

"Yes," he answered, looked over at James, who couldn't help but smile, "And I'm fine with you leaving me after you drop me here," he subliminally exposed as the issue.

James properly folded his legs, sitting Indian style beside the firefly. Boldly wrapping his arm around Caleb's shoulder, Caleb was prompted to settle and sit the same way. Caleb hesitantly rested his head on his shoulder and closed his eyes. As comfortable as they were, James faked a cough loud enough to turn severe. Caleb playfully elbowed him in the ribs,

"Ow!" James snickered.

For the past three days, there was the harshest snow storm that either boys had been in. On the final day of the storm, the boys ran out of sticks and branches to keep their wood stove running. So, it was all about sharing body warmth until then. Until it was time to go, the boys gathered all their belongings and got to moving. James closed the fading green door behind him and reached into his backpack to pull out a marker. He marked a large "X" and wrote the letters "J" and "C" on each of the insides. It was a random ritual James started doing almost like when an animal marked their territory. James stepped back from the door and stared at it for a minute before Caleb could grab his attention.

For being so overbearing, Caleb went out of his way to hunt for some proper winter attire for his companion—James kept his lousy, navy-colored uniform, but had some thermals underneath for better insulation. He was given a thick, denim coat with a wool lining. Admittedly, Caleb specifically picked it out because he thought it would make James look irresistible…but he wasn't going to admit that. However, there was something essential that Caleb couldn't find, and it was the reason James caught a cold in the first place: A winter hat and some gloves.

Caleb wore a pea coat and put it on top of everything else he has worn these past few months, having the long hems of his cardigan sweatshirt hang from beneath his coat. Over his head was a ski mask with a visor that only left his grimacing eyes exposed. He tripled his socks to keep his toes warm, but it rarely prevented any numbness from penetrating his worn-out soles.

Afterward, they both agreed to an irrational plan to walk nonstop until they were officially out of Denver, and it took nearly a day and a half, with almost no rest, until they were by the countryside. The was nothing but mountains and empty plains. The weather was so harsh there was no way telling if an Infected stood a chance out there.

Colorado's winters was the type of winter James hoped to never encounter in his life. Never say never, he thought. It didn't matter how much hair he had on his head. It wasn't a lot to begin with; just a sleazy-looking pompadour and some rabidly growing hair. The breezes were so piercing James could believe that the blood in his head had reached a freezing point. His ears were numb and he shivered like the beating of a humming bird's wings. His lips were chapped and bleeding as a result of speaking so much. Miniscule wads of ice clung unto his brows, as well as Caleb's (but they mostly sat atop his ashes). They had hardly eaten at this point. Throughout all their travels, James and Caleb never had any trouble finding shelter until now. Everywhere, shelter was either blocked off or too dangerous to enter, and the snow made it so much harder to see. It's just a little further, James kept telling himself. Regardless of Caleb wanting James to rest, the former soldier already had his mind set. Instead of standing under something that would provide cover, James stood in the open road to reach for his map. His fingers weren't moving fast enough because of the numbness, but Caleb stepped in and quickly unfurled it for him. As James traced with his fingers, he followed the path they were on. He shivered intensely as he looked up and back down multiple times. He swallowed, trying his hardest to avoid Caleb's attention. There was something wrong. Instead of notifying Caleb, he returned his map to his pocket and continued to move. The truth of it all? James had accidentally taken a wrong path. There wasn't any way of telling where they were because they were stuck in the middle of nowhere.

No matter which direction you looked, there was nothing but miles of snow ahead. The fact that the boys were lost could no longer remained a secret—since them moment they ended up in the middle of nowhere, Caleb knew. It had never happened before, but there was no point in getting James to fess up because something was seriously wrong with him, and whatever it was, it was getting worse. His shivering was worsening, he would respond abnormally to questions, his speech was slurred and he kept tripping over…over nothing.

As they completed nearly an hour of walking, there was something that resembled a lone ranch a couple of yards away.

"T-t-there," James said softly, having difficulty catching his breath. While Caleb was already ahead, the Firefly turned back to see James heavily depending on a car. He knew the current conditions they were under, and this was really the first time he saw James reaching a breaking point. He approached James and looked into his eyes, that were usually filled with a glister of confidence—but it was just emptiness. His persona was deteriorating. Caleb was beginning to get extremely concerned,

"I'm…fine…" James said, avoiding the shiver by timing.

As Caleb pulled James off the vehicle, Caleb was curious to see anything like it. It was unconventional from what Caleb was used to seeing, but he was sure it was some type of car; it just had very small wheels, no doors, and a windshield. Focusing back his attention to James, they picked up the pace.

A couple of minutes later they reached the structure that looked similar to an upgraded ranch, but it was far too big to be a ranch. It was used for the public in past. All around, its towering windows possessed wooden awnings with brackets that stretched all the way into a lining. The lining was stone texture, infused with rocks and pebbles. Caleb assisted James by guiding him to sit on something while he took a quick stroll around the building.

James impatiently stood up and approached one of the windows, stumbling on his way there. He covered his eyes with his frigid hands and pressed his face up against the glass to get a better look at the dark interior. It was smaller than it looked from the outside, but he could've cared less. The only thing standing between James and this place was finding a way in. The idea of having to stay in the cold any longer was a deal breaker and James began a vigorous search for a tool he could use. Remembering a brick in his book bag, it only proved itself as a pointless compact of clay and shale.

He searched even more, going out of his way to grab objects that protruded from the snow. That's when he rightfully spotted tilted legs of an old stool, tilting upright in the air. James yanked the legs and boldly hurled the stool through the smaller windows of the entrance. In terms of coldness, breaking the larger window would've been a big mistake since the entire thing would collapse from a small shatter. Just in the nick of time, Caleb returned. He questioned himself if this was a tipping point for James. It probably was. The remnants of glass around the edges of the entrance or on the floor didn't prevent James from gripping the edges with bare hands or rolling on the floor once he crawled through. It was all signs of exhaustion and carelessness. Struggling to make it to his knees afterward, he successfully stood up.

Looking around to see if the noise might have alarmed any enemies from the outside, Caleb followed right behind him after declaring the coast clear. Nearly slipping on some glass and sludge from James' boots, James held him upright and marched off. Caleb preemptively looked all around at the building, attempting his best to see if he could possibly make out anything hiding in the shadows.

"It's an airport in case you were wondering," Caleb's soothing voice traveled. Other than the gaping hole that James created, everywhere else appeared to be surprisingly intact. There were no signs of Infected, and they seemed safe for the time being, "How are you feeling?" Caleb asked with his back turned and keeping a hectic lookout.

"Better. Now that we're in-inside…" James cupped his hands together and blew warm breath into them. As he felt the blood flow return to his fingertips, he couldn't help but feel a strange sensation of them wanting to burst. He practically stood across the airport; in a spot far enough to avoid the chills that breezed the broken window. His neurotic shivering stopped, but his entire face was ghoulishly pale, "We just need to eat...and get warm."

Standing about fifteen feet away, Caleb turned his attention back to James, carefully examining him. He looked worried, like a step was strong enough to quake James over.

"What?" James asked.

"You don't look good," Caleb said, after noticing him teeter.

"No, no…" James said, forcing a calm tone. He buried both hands into the wool pockets of his jacket and a faint smile appeared on his face. It was more of a blush after taking note of Caleb's feelings, "I-I promise. I'm fine," he took a couple of slow paced steps toward Caleb and removed his hands from his pockets. He opened his arms wide open and managed to easily wrap them around Caleb, "Let's just…let's just cuddle and keep warm. Okay?"

As he embraced him, he glanced over his lover's shoulder and saw a staggering figure behind him. He removed his arms from around Caleb and weakly shoved him behind him. He reached into his pocket and blindly pulled out his pistol like those cowboys from wild west films. The only issue? The figure did the exact same. The figure was dressed head to toe in ski gear and had a single crutch to help keep him erect. The snow all over his coat and furry hood indicated that he just came from being outdoors. It was just difficult to make out how he looked,

"You would shoot a cripple?" the armed stranger asked.

Keeping his pistol pointed, James' heart began to beat rapidly and his breathing became difficult to keep up with.

"Please, we don't want any trouble," Caleb whimpered, feeling most vulnerable "We just needed a place to stay for the night and that's it."

"Look," the stranger began, "I don't mean to be prejudice, but you young fellows look like a shit-load of trouble," he pointed his gun at the broken glass and back at the duo, "I mean, look what you did to my windows! How am I supposed to fix that?!"

The man continued speaking, but James was slowly zoning in and out. Almost every inch of his body was numb, and he felt the bizarre urge to strip nude. Although James was right in the center of it all, the aggressive exchange between the man and Caleb sounded like it were coming from a separate room. Oddly enough, their voices echoed. James wildly shook his head, at a speed that would normally make his head hurt. He fought for his arm to stay up and his eyes to stay peeled, but the urges were becoming irresistible. Using his other hand, he constantly tugged at his neckline, feeling too fatigued and confused to properly remove it. Within seconds, he flopped to the ground. Caleb tried catching him,

"Shit. James," Caleb said, ignoring the pain as he crashed to his knees, "Oh man…shit—James?" Caleb seemed to be having a nervous breakdown. He let James' body lay flat and turned him onto his back after removing his backpack, "Get up, get up, get up, dammit! You're always passing out on me!" he said, as if it were between them.

The stranger, who already concealed his handgun, hesitated to walk forward and examined at the polar duo. The fact that Caleb could completely turn his back to the face of danger just to care about his companion's wellbeing spoke volumes to the other person in the room,

"I can help," he said, genuinely offering some guidance.

Caleb grabbed the handgun from beneath James' palm and pointed it up at the stranger, idiotically looking away a couple of times.

"Just…don't! okay? Stay right there,"

"Foolish children…" the older man said, continuing to limp forward on his crutch. Caleb held back tears. He immediately stood up and unsheathed his blade, holding it out with one arm. He held the tip of the katana directly at the unarmed stranger. The stranger held up one arm, using the other to remain supported by his crutch. He chuckled lightly, hoping to create a sense of friendliness but also pity, "A sword? Is that what you fight with?" Failing to even get a response, bad or good, he spoke to Caleb again, "Look, I was pissed about that window, but I'm not evil. I don't want anyone dead over a dumb window, okay…? But if you don't accept my help, that's how he'll end up. I've seen this before. He's experiencing hypothermia..."

"How do you know?" Caleb asked, unconvinced of his honesty.

The stranger bit his bottom lip and exchanged silent stares. He nervously repositioned his lean.

"My son died of it," he said. A long pause took place, hoping it would be enough of an answer, "If we work together we can drag him to my camping spot, roll him in ten blankets and get him warm."

It wasn't long before Caleb packed away his weapons, grabbed James by the ankles and dragged him across the rugged floors with some assistance from the stranger. Neither of them would bother to tell him if (Caleb always said "when") he woke up, but they knocked his body into countless walls, counters, chairs, and probably dropped him about three times.

Finally, the ex-soldier opened his eyes in the middle of sunrise, wrapped in three quilts and resting dangerously close to a campfire that could cleverly be sustained indoors without causing the entire building to burn down. Only moving his eyes, he could see Caleb and the stranger in his sights. They both slept with their backs pressed against the wall. Caleb sat bundled underneath a thin blanket with his arms crossed. It was inappropriate, but James found it amusing how Caleb still managed to look so observant even when he wasn't.

James easily sat himself up and fought to remove his arm out of the tight wrapped blanket. He touched his head, feeling a warm beanie. He was completely unaware of what happened. Other than pulling his gun on the stranger nearby, he couldn't recall anything else. He carefully removed the quilt, trying not to let it get anywhere near the flames. Sitting up, he looked around the pitch-black vicinity. It was eerily quiet and a soft yawn was enough to startle him. He turned to look at the flickering silhouette of the stranger straightening his posture. James stared at the man.

"Goodnight," the man said, confirming his alertness.

No question, it was a world for survivors. And nine times out of ten, your ally will be someone you previously threatened.

"What happened?" James asked, reaching up to rub his head. Patting his head, he also realized that his hands were covered by two cozy mittens.

"Hypothermia. I've had it before, so I know what to do," he took a moment to point over at Caleb, "Your bud was worried sick. I'm guessing you two are close?"

"You could say that."

"I'm Yoshi," he said after giving a nod.

James evaluated Yoshi. Clearly telling by his name and facial appearance, Yoshi was Asian—something they had in common. Yoshi was much older: Maybe in his late forties. He had long, shaggy jet black hair with thick sideburns that linked to his beard and mustache. Although his lower jaw was patched up with hair, you can see hidden acne scars just above the lining. His lips were incredibly thin with a heavy droop in the center of the top lip. His skin was pale, paler than James even when he managed to get no sun these past few months. However, as James studied his every detail, Yoshi did the same in return.

"James," he said with a deep shiver.

"At best, it's below five degrees out there. What were you thinking, not wearing anything?"

"Couldn't find any…"

"Not one?"

James pretended he didn't hear. Of course, he saw some before they got around to Colorado, he was just too irresponsible to prepare.

"He's stoic as shit, that one," Yoshi continued, "How'd he manage to get his hands on a katana? Ever since the world's gone to shit, culture is a thing of the past. He's the first person I've ever seen with a katana in all my forty-six years of living. I'd die to have something that reminds me of my culture. The only time I ever have my culture reminded to me is by the translations on the pamphlets in here."

"You're Japanese," James proudly answered.

Yoshi nodded.

"And you?" Yoshi asked.

"Eh, I'm not even sure," James hesitated at first, "There were only files on my mom. She was Chinese. Not sure about my dad though."

Yoshi bellowed out an obnoxious chuckle and covered his mouth as a result. James didn't respond. He couldn't because he was unsure at what was so funny. Admittedly, it was a little offensive at first.

"Sorry," Yoshi apologized, "It's just…I find it funny…you remind me a lot my son."

"I guess that is pretty ironic," James forced a smile.

"Infected got him one night. I told your friend he died from hypothermia, but I needed to gain his trust somehow so I could help you."

"I'm sure he'll forgive you."

"Well, it's gonna be morning pretty soon. So, catch up on some sleep and warm up some more. We'll speak more in the morning."

As if his mind was read, James was just thinking about ending the conversation but was afraid of coming off rude to someone who showed such hospitality. Nodding his head, he settled himself and knocked right out.

Caleb woke up to a mouth-watering scent. He was positive it was nothing he had eaten before, but he knew it was some sort of meat. Looking around, he was alone with two empty piles of comforters on the floor. Once he heard a recognizable laugh, he got up leaving his belongings behind. Making his way past multiple counters, Caleb saw the strange man and James, with a fiber bar in his hand, from afar. They didn't notice him yet, but they were getting along great for some reason. Caleb anxiously took a step forward and kept his eyes to the floor. James stopped his talking mid-sentence at the sight of Caleb, almost like he had been love-struck all over again. Barely being able to see clearly through the hat that covered his eyes, he strolled over to Caleb.

"How're you feeling?" Caleb asked, with a tilted head.

"Better. Yoshi, really saved our asses."

"He did," Caleb nodded. He shifted his eyes over to him, "Thanks."

Yoshi evaluated the two of them, including Caleb—a young man apparently oblivious to his charming appearance. James, on the other hand, just couldn't take his eyes off Caleb wherever he moved. In his clueless mind, they were obviously best friends since childhood.

"You're welcome," Yoshi gladly accepted, "I hope you like squirrel. They're nice and fat during seasons like this."

Caleb never tried squirrel and the thought of eating a rodent was repulsive, but the smell was fabulous. Yoshi was professionally frying flayed squirrels on an electric cooktop ran on batteries.

"I didn't tell you this but, I got us lost by yesterday," James interjected.

"I figured that," Caleb answered. He took James' fiber bar and bit into it, "Where were you hiding this?"

"Anyway, Yoshi said he knows a way that will point us in the right direction," using both of his hands, he rotated Caleb's attention to one of the windows, "And it's over that mountain," James pointed. The mountain was no Mount Everest and a simple hike was doable for three able-bodied people. Caleb just felt unfavorable of having to climb it this weather after what happened to James. Admittedly, he was a little concerned, so he started biting his bottom lip as a nervous reaction. James thought about speaking as Caleb had his back turned, but continued anyway, "We're starting early tomorrow. Yoshi said he's willing to leave this place to show us a path out of here. We just have to take him with us and he'll separate from us when he's ready."

"If it's gonna get us out of here: Okay," Caleb nodded.

Yoshi was celebratory of the alliance. As he finished preparing his last delicacy, he tossed the chopped body parts of the squirrel unto a thick paper towel and offered to each of them. Caleb's eyes followed the paper towel as he was served first, and took a bite into the what looked like a little squirrel leg. It was juicy and robust; or maybe he was just starving, but he stripped the leg to the bone in seconds,

"Thank you," Caleb graciously said.

Yoshi nodded showing a plentiful smile as he walked to his towel of food. While snacking on another limb, Caleb looked at Yoshi's leg. It was strange, but Yoshi no longer had a limp. Turning his attention to their vacant spot, the crutch laid there, useless.