He finds a truck with a full tank of gas and a key in the ignition and considers himself extremely lucky. He does have to haul a skeleton out of the driver's seat, but that's just a typical Tuesday for you.
Maka wrinkles her nose up as they board the larger vehicle. "Smells."
"There was a dead guy decomposing in here," he points out, and then hesitates. "Maye I'll grab some Axe or something to cover it when I get the chance."
Not even he's sure if he's being flippant or sincere at this point.
She shudders at the thought.
The rotting stench of putrefaction would beat the chemical assault that was Axe body spray, any day. "Why did teenage boys use so much of that crap anyway?" she wonders aloud. "It smells awful, and it clings to every available surface."
Soul shrugs. "Speaking as someone who was fairly recently a teenage boy, I think we just thought it would get us laid."
She blinks rapidly, unused to hearing her companion talk so frankly about his sex life. "Can't believe it worked… I think it was some pretty misleading marketing, actually."
He shrugs in agreement. "I certainly never had sex as a direct or indirect result of Axe body spray."
She sniffs. "You can't possibly know if there was indirect correlation. In fact, it's possible that Axe body spray was indirectly responsible for every sexual encounter you had between the ages of fifteen and nineteen," she grins, taking the thought and running with it ad absurdum.
He lets out a low chuckle. "If that's the case, then I really could've done without the stuff."
They spend the next three or so hours scoping out every single supermarket, shopping centre and corner store they can possibly find. They come up pretty much empty handed, except Maka manages to find a can of expired chestnuts hanging around in some pantry, on the floor. They munch on chestnuts together, strategizing and working out a game plan for the next day or so.
"So," Maka says, chewing. "Obviously we can't stick around in Fort Collins," she points out. "It's dead here and come the night we'll be dinner. Or we'll be one of them." She shudders at the mere thought. "I figured we could ride to Denver, though. See what's going on? Maybe on the way we could pick up some food, make a few stops."
"And then what?" Soul asks. "What happens when we get to Denver?"
"I don't know, we stay there for a while. Survive. Maybe we'll find some more people..."
"We won't. There's nobody... in Colorado. What do you think I did before I bumped into you? I used to just drive from city to city, state to state, searching for anyone. Survivors, a community... there's nothing here."
Maka's mouth downturns and she frowns. "We could try again..."
"There isn't, Maka," he reiterates. "It's a total ghost town."
"Well, then, what would you suggest?" She leans back, raising an accusative eyebrow.
He stares up at her, his eyes burning intensely crimson and making her want to look away. "We're going to Nevada. I know there are groups of people still alive there. Well, there was the last time I was there, anyway..."
"Nevada?"
"Nevada. In the desert."
"Your military base!"
"...kinda," he shuffles awkwardly. "Academy."
She scoffs and jabs a finger at him. "You're going to have to stop being so evasive eventually. I mean, we're literally going there. You might as well just tell me what it is that you're hiding from me."
He makes a frustrated noise from his throat and then lets his face fall into one of his hands. "Why do you pry so much?"
She decides not to get annoyed by this, but only because he seems to be genuinely angsty about whatever he's hiding, so instead she beams. "It's my inquisitive nature."
"You're incorrigible," he drawls, not irritated enough to cause a bigger fuss.
"Didn't expect a brute like you to know a big word like that," she grins.
He shrugs. "Yeah, well. I grew up rich. Turns out, you can polish a turd, and teach it to play piano and talk all good when you're done with the polishing," he grins back, flashing his spiked teeth once again.
Maka tries not to stare at them when they make their rare appearances.
"So... who are we going to meet in Nevada?"
Soul grimaces. "Whoever's left alive, I guess. Lucky them."
He reaches for a chestnut from the can that's sitting between them, and comes up empty handed. "Damn, out of chestnuts."
"I could do with some meat, if I'm honest."
"You hungry? If you stay here, I'll get some food." He leaps up from his crouching post and shoves his hands in his pockets.
"W-wait, can't I come with you? Isn't it safer to travel and hunt together?" her eyebrows knit together. "Or... I could go hunting, today...?"
He bares his teeth in clear objection to both these ideas.
"Are you sure that you're okay to do that?"
"How do you think I used to eat before I met you? Jesus, Soul, I had you pegged as many things, but a sexist wasn't one of them..."
He rubs the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and his thumb. "I meant your injury."
"Oh," she blinks, surprised. In truth, she had forgotten that she had injured herself at all. "It's healing pretty slowly but pretty solidly. If I had a doctor, he'd probably prescribe me some painkillers, a healthy diet and some time off work."
He grimaces. "I've got vodka?"
She rolls her eyes but doesn't try to stop the smile from forming over her features. "Heh, thanks."
They drive only a little way out, only so they aren't at risk of being hunted themselves. He leads her to a small square where they crouch behind a bush.
She looks over at him and around them. "Good spot."
"It's alright," he replies, a little distracted. "I'll look out, make sure we're safe."
She raises an eyebrow over and him but shrugs. He seems… tense, for some reason. Tenser than his usual laconic self, at any rate.
"Fine." She scoffs, lifting the hunting gun up so she can peer through the tracker. "Just… stand there."
They wait silently for the longest time. Maka's on the verge of putting down the gun which is making her arm ache, when suddenly she spots it out the corner of her eye. A deer, just on the periphery of the square.
She locks eyes with Soul who nods silently, barely moving a hair's width.
She stares through the gun lens at the thing. It can hear something, it knows someone's there – but it's not convinced yet that it should bolt. She nestles down a little, tries to get a better position and then:
The shot echoes through the square and the sound of the deer falling onto it's side follows shortly after.
Soul runs off towards it before Maka has a chance to celebrate her victory.
"I know you're hungry, but-!" she whispers to herself, shaking her head.
Somehow, Soul manages to hear her, because he beckons her towards him. She sighs and flips the safety back onto the gun, following him towards the deer she's just shot at.
The thing is very, very dead.
"Wait, was that a clean shot?"
"Nope," Soul points to the thing's throat, which has now been cut open. "We need to get this back quietly. I just… I have a bad feeling about here. I can smell them close-by."
Maka nods and the two of them get to work with the dead deer, trying their best to bustle it into the backseat of Soul's truck. What she hadn't realised, in her many years of hunting for food, was that deer are heavy.
Both are sweaty and covered in deer blood by the time they actually manage to successfully shut the door.
"I feel like that probably could have gone better," Maka surmises.
"Get in the car," Soul replies, gruff as ever.
