Coby Cotton

Woods of Wasting

April 15, 2032

0815 Hours

I push a branch out of the way and squint through the morning light. Tyler and Cody are ahead of me, dappled silhouettes against the sun. We're moving slowly, since Tyler's knee isn't very stable, and I think we've been out here for at least two hours. My headache has abated, but this is absolutely miserable—I'm hot, thirsty, and pretty sure I have scratches over eighty percent of my body. The rope around my waist is chafing against my skin, and I'm sweating profusely.

"We've gotta be almost there," Cody pants from twenty feet ahead. "Where's a flooded river when you need one?"

"Maybe we're lost," I sigh, dragging a hand through my hair. "I mean, I don't know where we are. Ty?"

"Of course I know where we are," Tyler says as he ducks under a branch. "We're barely a mile out of camp. The next bend in the river's at least another mile."

"This is stupid," Cody groans. "We're never gonna last that long! How many falls have we had, six?"

"We've had two, Codes," Tyler says. "Honestly, is everything three times bigger with you?"

"Yeah, well, the falls were pretty terrifying."

In all honesty, they were—first it was Tyler, whose knee gave out and whose weight of course jerked me right off the branch I was standing on. Cody pulled us both back up easily, but he fell next, and man, pulling him up was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do.

I wonder if Cory is doing better than I am. I hope so—this seems hard to beat.

Suddenly, my foot comes down on a knot in a branch, and I yelp in shock as my ankle twists, sending me plummeting down through the branches. One limb smacks me in the upper back, another in my hip, and the rope pulls taut against my stomach. When I finally jerk to a stop, I'm dangling upside down, winded and staring up into the sunlight.

Even though he's clinging onto a branch for dear life, Tyler's laughing so hard he's shaking. "You good, Cotton?"

"Get me back up," I groan, the blood rushing to my head. "Seriously."

Cody leans over and grabs the rope, pulling me slowly back up. "You didn't hit your head again, right? I'm pretty sure that's bad." His voice is concerned, but he's laughing, too.

I pull myself up onto the branch and lean against the trunk, rubbing my temples. "I don't think so. I'm good."

My head is, in fact, good. But gosh, everything else hurts now. I flex my ankle until the twinges fade and hope the bruises I've undoubtedly suffered aren't too bad. The worst pain is the ring of sore, scraped skin around my stomach and back where the rope is digging in, and I try to adjust it so it doesn't hurt, but I've already moved it so many times that it doesn't help.

We continue to make our way through the branches, and soon, my vision is blurred with sweat. I'm also bordering on tears of frustration and pain, we've been out here so long. Will this day ever end?

Finally—finally!—we come to the edge of the river, in a place where it looks like it hasn't burst its banks quite yet. The water rushes through a narrow channel, cold and clear, unlike the filthy torrent that crashed through the camp. A long, sturdy branch thankfully overhangs it, leading to the other side. Cody climbs down first, flinging himself into the mud on the riverbank with an exhausted groan, and Tyler follows him.

My knees almost give out as I touch down, and I stumble to the water's edge before collapsing, my cheek hitting the earth with a wet splattering of mud. Normally, I wouldn't sink so low, but I hurt all over and I'm more tired than I've ever been in my life. I think I can spare some dignity.

"That was horrible," Tyler complains, rolling onto his back and staring up through the canopy. "I hate zombies. I hate my life. I hate everything. Hey, Codes, can you get the water started?"

Cody groans again but sits up, pulling the Life Straws, a couple of water bottles, and a Ziploc bag filled with small tablets out of his backpack. I watch through blurred vision as he fills up the bottles, puts a tablet in each one, and sets them aside.

"It'll take like half an hour to purify," Cody says, handing me one of the straws. "But hey, we'll just drink out of the river until then. It might not taste awesome, so be ready."

I honestly don't care how it tastes. Barely moving from my spot on the bank, I stick the straw into the river and drink, discovering that it actually tastes amazing—clear and cold and hopefully unlikely to kill me. When I'm finished, I hand the straw to Tyler and cup water in my hand, splashing it over my face and washing the mud off.

Rolling back over, I tug at the rope knotted around my waist, but it refuses to give way. I pull out my knife and saw at the coarse fibers until it comes free, then lift my shirt gingerly, examining the abrased skin. It's not as bad as I thought—there's only a little blood, although my stomach might bruise. I hope all my organs are okay.

"I think we cleaned up too early," Tyler points out, examining his bleeding knuckles. "There's no way we have enough Band-Aids for all of us."

"I'll be fine without them," I rasp, resting the back of my head on the ground and closing my eyes. "Some ice would be great, though."

"We've got some instant cold compresses," Cody offers, and I hear him rummaging in the backpack before something that sounds like a maraca hits me in the chest. I open my eyes and glance over at Cody, who says, "Shake it up, it's like ice."

I shake the small plastic package, wondering how to pick just one place to give pain relief to. I eventually decide on my hip—no way this compress is big enough to cover my entire torso, so I'd better settle for the most painful bruise.

"What now?" I ask, my chest rising and falling shakily. "Where're we gonna go?"

"I vote for not moving from this spot for at least an hour," Cody says.

"So do I," Tyler agrees. "But after that, we've gotta find somewhere to build a shelter and a fire."

That's probably imperative, but I don't think I could sit up, let alone build a shelter. Maybe I'll just let Tyler drape a tarp over me and call it good.

After lying there for several minutes, I decide that I can probably sit up and do so, wincing at the ache in every part of my being. I wish I hadn't already taken Advil—I could really use some more. But I've been through worse, so I'm going to tough it out. I'll be fine.

The pain mostly fades after resting, so at Tyler's request, I stagger to my feet and help Cody rig up the tarp. We spread out some rain ponchos and thermal blankets on the ground under it, and Tyler manages to get a fire going. Once that's all done, Cody breaks out the first aid kit again, and I patch up the worst of my scrapes.

"Alright," Tyler announces. "Let's figure this out. We need a more permanent camp, and we've gotta look for Cory. I say we find the kid before setting something up—there's no point in making a camp and then wandering away from it all the time."

"First we've gotta sleep," Cody says, flopping down on the assortment of plastic. "I might die if I don't sleep."

Tyler nods. "I'll take watch, then. You two can sleep; I'll wake you up in a couple hours, Codes. Three, two, one, go."

I stretch out on my front, pressing my cheek into a section of poncho, and close my eyes. Like it has for the last few days, sleep claims me quickly, and I sink into the darkness, wondering if I'll find Cory there.

Flashes of light.

A laugh I don't recognize.

The taste in my mouth is light, golden, and I struggle to remember where I've had it before. It was a rainy day, I know that.

Tension and then a stinging throb in my forearm. What happened? And why does the pain come with a feeling of exhilaration, a sense of triumph? These are not things I associate with pain.

Another taste, sweeter and darker, and warm juice on my lips. This comes with a sense of safety, security, and I still feel lingering pride. Voices I've never heard speak to me, one soft and blunt, one louder but still kinder.

Laughter again. My own and someone else's. I'm off balance, but I don't fall, only stand on firm ground.

And now, suddenly, fear, and we are screaming. Running, too, but it feels more like swinging, and it begins to rain…

Darkness, dusty shadows, flickering motes in a cascade of gray light. Heavy, stagnant air and sweat on the back of my neck. That tension again, but there is no pride here, only terror and a deep, fervent longing for something lost…

"Coby!"

I don't hear it so much as feel it. It crashes into my heart, vibrating, ricocheting, and something in me breaks as my twin's scream shatters dark glass and rips gashes in the shrouded sky. I'm torn from behind Cory's eyes and sent plummeting into my own body, running with blurred vision and a burning in my chest.

"Wake up," I hiss, the sound echoing around my head. "Wake up!"

Now other voices, new voices and some I already know, are stabbing into me from all angles.

"I won't let you down."

Cody.

"Zombies!"

That one I don't know.

"Leave without me!"

Cory…

"Go, Cobes! Save yourself!"

Wait—is that Ty?

And then I'm lifting something small and stabbing it downward, and the only word on my tongue is please.

"Cory!" I scream, and then light refracts through my temples and rain is on my cheeks and suddenly I'm awake—

Rain is pattering down on the tarp, and the poncho I laid down on has been wrapped around me so tightly I can barely breathe. I wriggle free and kick the bright yellow plastic away, my hands shaking as I run them through my hair. Sweat moistens my cheeks, and as I wipe it away, I realize that Tyler and Cody are both watching me, looking worried.

"Everything okay, Cotton?" Tyler asks.

"Yeah, I'm fine, just—dreams," I reply, breathing deeply to try and calm myself down. "What time is it?"

"Almost two p.m." Cody informs me. "You've been conked out for forever!"

"And you almost took my head off!" Tyler says indignantly. "Do you always kick that much when you sleep?"

"Sorry, Ty," I mumble, staring at the ground. "I don't think so, but I wouldn't know. Cory and I sleep in separate hammocks, and he's always slept deeper than I have."

I glance up, looking Tyler and then Cody in the eyes. "You guys, I think Cory might be in trouble. I just dreamed about him—and yeah, I know it was just a dream, but it's—it's a twin thing, okay? I've gotta go look for him. I get it if you don't want to come with me, but I'm going to go whether y'all come or not."

Both of them are silent for a moment, and then Cody says, "Why wouldn't we come?"

I blink, taken aback. "Because—because you don't actually know either of us?"

"I promised, Coby," Cody says firmly. "You heard me. I said I'd find Cory, and I will. I don't break promises."

"And neither of you are going anywhere without me," Tyler adds. "You guys clearly can't handle yourselves out here. Plus, it sounds like your brother can't, either. Best to have me with you."

"Also, we're your friends," Cody points out. "That's gotta count for something, right?"

He stands, holding out a hand and pulling me to my feet. "C'mon, let's head out."

I stand there, speechless, trying to swallow the lump in my throat. "You guys, I—"

"Save it, Cotton," Tyler says, standing and clapping me on the shoulder. "Don't cry on us."

"I don't cry."

We pull down the tarp and fold up the blankets and ponchos, stuffing them back into Cody's backpack, and take Advil before setting out. The rain falls lightly through the canopy as we start walking, and I breathe in the smell of petrichor, calming my shattered nerves.

Hang in there, Cor.

I'm coming.