Brotherhood ~ Chapter 2

Whoa, I thought, awakening with a start.  Blinking like an owl I ardently willed my vision to clear.  Was I still asleep?  Or in some state of quasi-consciousness?

Closing my eyes, I waited for the remnants of the dream to dissolve.  My hope was that upon once again opening them I’d find myself surrounded by reality, otherwise?  Then I would know that I had finally lost it.

Yup – sure enough, when I was finally able to focus my eyes, there I was, right where I had gone to sleep, which was in my tent.  In the middle of nowhere without another soul for miles and miles – literally since mankind had pretty much gone extinct.

So, reality, then – this was where I found myself to be.

However, I could still vividly recall the details of the dream.

And it scared the living crap out of me.

Not because it was a nightmare – it was actually quite the opposite.  Still, the feeling which hovered about me was kind of like panic, the kind you get when you wake up, not knowing where you are.  However, that normally wouldn’t have bothered me since I moved around the desert landscape so much, practically on a daily basis.  What did trouble me was that when I would awaken from these dreams, I didn’t have a frigging clue who I was.

Now that was truly frightening.

In these nocturnal stage plays I was not me – and I didn’t know a single person who traipsed in and out of these dreams, either.

Sitting up, I ran a hand over my eyes and then looked out of the tent’s screen door.  The sun was up, my fire outside had burned out, and though I knew I needed to get moving, I just sat there with my knees drawn up under my chin.

Just who was the man in the dream?  The one with the coppery blond hair, on stage in some club and singing with the band?  Funny – he was dressed in military fatigues and sitting behind a piano.  I felt as if I should know him, though.  Well – in the dream I was sure that I did know him but after waking up I could never latch on to a name.  And just as I didn’t know who I was in the dream, or the people who surrounded me, I also didn’t know where these dreams took place, what city, what state, or even what year for that matter.

I might have been inclined to think that someone else’s life was bleeding over into my own, or rather someone’s dreams were invading my slumber.  However, since I was convinced there wasn’t another human left on this third rock from the sun, then that possibility was way down at the bottom of the list.

Morphic-resonance it wasn’t.

And given that it had been seven years since the world had winked out, which was when I had last seen another live human, then there had to be another explanation.

Sure – like, you are losing your mind, Sierra, I giggled to myself with unease.  It was as good a reason as any, I supposed.

It was a gorgeous late spring morning at least.  A little chilly, but the climbing sun brought the promise of warmth and the day would soon begin to heat up.  Sitting there in that nether land which lay between the unconsciousness of sleep and the reality of being awake, I watched the flowing river beyond the shelter of the tent and campsite.  The images in my mind of the dream were fading fast, moving on just like the water of the Salt River.  I wasn’t sure why I had decided to wander back so close to the Valley of the Sun, but here I was.

Metropolitan centers were just plain creepy without people – or at least, wihout live people, anyway.  I avoided cities even though there really wasn’t anything to fear.  Predators were everywhere – remote desert and abandoned population centers alike.  When I needed supplies and the like, I would gravitate towards what were once small towns.  There was no way you’d catch me in, say, Phoenix or any place even remotely close to that.

So again, why did I wander back this way?  Damned if I knew, but it was probably the river and memories of riding the water.  Tubing had been a lot of fun, I reminisced with a pang of nostalgia followed by a predictable, wistful sigh.

Oh, well – you can’t just sit here all day, Sierra, I reproached myself, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.  Actually, I could, but something told me this wasn’t a good place to stick around.  Typically, I would spend most of my days hiking across the wilderness, looking for places where the foraging was good.  I’d setup camp and stay a while, that was until I got bored with the scenery and so would then move on.

Something about this place, though, made me think that it best to move on sooner instead of later.  It wasn’t close to any ghost towns, but my desert sense was telling me that trouble was lurking somewhere in the vicinity so I better get a move on.  With this thought, I unzipped my tent’s flap and then crawled out to greet the world, now quickly setting about the business of making myself scarce.

After you get washed up, I decided for myself – and breakfast, can’t go far without eating.  Needed energy, after all.

When the bug had hit, the one that pretty much had made mankind an extremely endangered species, I wasn’t sure what scared me more.  The fact that people were dropping like flies, or the fact that I wasn’t.

Shivering with the recollection of trying to get my tail out of the East Valley, per usual, I cried a little.  That was something that no person should ever have to live through – period.  Memories of that time, for the most part, were a nightmarish blur – as much a blur as the dreams I would have about not being me.  Bits and pieces remembered, enough to be disturbing as heck, but that was about it.  Although, the emotion would persist – emotional carryover, they used to call it.

The only reason I had managed to last as long as I had in this brave new world was because, as luck would have it, or not, I actually had survival skills.  I had always been an avid backpacker, hiking all over the state, and had desert survival training under my belt.  So I was no stranger to this arid world – but never in a million years did I suspect that all my wilderness experience would save my life.

Although, often times I dearly wished I could have just died right along with everyone else.

It had become a double-edged sword, surviving.  In the beginning, I had been terrified of being alone – but after trying to dodge thousands of dying people?  People who were stark raving mad for the most part, that being a lovely symptom of the plague – it drove people straight out of their minds.  This had quickly changed my mind about being alone.  Alone was fine.  Alone was cool.  I was good with that and so my fear then became the reverse.  Across the years I had become preoccupied with the fear of either running across other people, or them stumbling upon me.

It was kind of a hollow concern, in a way, since after seven years and neither sight nor sound of another fellow human being?  Well – I wasn’t sure why I was still afraid of meeting up with members of my own species, but I was.  Naturally, after a time, I began to drop my guard bit by bit because I became more worried about the four-legged predators out there.  Jaguars had made a stellar comeback since the world had checked out, and mountain lions, too.  I was too busy trying not to become a snack for them, but there was plenty of other game out there for the predators to consume.  All manner of critters were on a major upswing without humans around to keep their populations in check.

And again, there it was.  That sensation which kept prodding me – the one nagging me to scramble, and post haste.

Understanding that I needed to listen to my gut, I now hustled my tail to break camp.  I had a hurried breakfast – a nasty MRE, but those dehydrated meals were a godsend when I was in a hurry or too lazy to scare up real food.  Once I had wolfed that down, I then went over to the riverbank to get washed up.  I accomplished that in no time flat and so then set about checking my gear and making sure that everything was in order before bugging out.

I was just about to heft my pack when I realized I forgot to top off my camel pack.  Yeah – would be nice to have plenty of water, girl, for the hike ahead! I admonished myself and so grabbing it I hurried down to the river.

Kneeling there, impatient to be away, I suddenly found myself caught totally of guard, much to my complete and utter dismay.  I had been so frigging worried about hitting the dusty trail that I wasn’t paying careful attention to my surroundings.  Out of the blue I now found myself being restrained by one very strong human being – a man, no less.  In no time flat I had gone from being alone on this planet to entertaining some rather unexpected, as well as most unwelcome, company!  How had he managed to sneak up on me like that? I wondered, thoroughly perplexed since I had had no clue that any creature was so near to my person, much less a man!  I supposed my desert sense had neglected to wake up along with the rest of me that morning and was still slumbering away back there where my tent had been pitched.

Well, now I certainly did have other things to worry about besides filling my camel pack.  Like not getting my blood spilled, for instance, since this guy actually had a knife pressed up against my throat.

Just my rotten luck.

It had been the first time in seven years that I had wandered back anywhere near the Phoenix area and so just look had happened to me as a result!

On that day the entire course of my life had changed, in that proverbial blink of an eye.  I could recall the details with exacting clarity even decades later, indelibly etched in my mind.

That’s what you get for sleeping late, I now harshly berated myself, holding completely still as I waited for my captor to make his next move.  I strongly suspected that should I fidget then I would be on the receiving end of one very nasty scratch courtesy of his knife blade.  Although frozen like a block of ice, I could not help by swallow hard, though.  Then this man took firm hold of my right arm, to the point of hurting me so that I let out a little yelp.

As my assailant now slowly turned me around to face him, I prepared myself to look upon this guy who now held my life in his hands.  Then something curious happened.   I was as purely taken aback by his reaction when we were finally face-to-face, eye-to-eye.  Never had I seen such an expression of surprise, fear, confusion, relief and delight – all rolled into one.  A myriad of emotions were playing out within the depths of this man’s eyes – and what eyes they were, those dark, dark eyes!  I would never forget my first sight of those eyes, amazing eyes.  So dark that they were almost black, bringing to mind a color similar to that of obsidian – but more like an impossibly deep forest green.

Now in a heartbeat he abruptly, almost apologetically, released me to then lower his weapon.  The man, visibly shaken, settled back on his heels, openly gaping at me.  In the meantime, I was less than gracefully scrambling out of his reach, which landed me square on my butt in the river.  Seeming not to notice, however, I just sat there, doing my own fair share of gawking at this male.

Desperately trying to collect my wits as I watched him, his reaction completely baffled me.  I mean, it should have been abundantly clear to him that he had been about to pounce on a woman, right?  Surely no man would have forgotten what a woman looked like, even after so long.

Literally at a loss for words, the man now released a long low breath.  He then surrendered his blade to the damp earth of the riverbank but continued his observation of me, resting there with his palms on his thighs.  Having regained his composure, he was studying me with the greatest of interest.

To my amazement, the man now shifted himself so that he was bent to one knee, head bowed.  He softly spoke words that I could not clearly hear, but to me it sounded like some sort of prayer.  His actions spoke to me of ritual, though.  Great, I thought in puzzlement as I looked on.  Of all the people left in the world God thought it humorous to send me a lunatic, I nervously laughed, and out loud no less.  Lucky me, was my ironic musing of it all, being not quite sure what I should do next.  In all honesty, I was fighting back the urge to bolt upstream, but strangely enough, I got my butt up and out of the water to cautiously move in closer to him.

Kneeling down in front of him, I tentatively reached out to lay my hand over one of his own.  I don’t know what possessed me to do so but it was done before I had a chance to reconsider.  Having come back to himself from wherever his prayer had taken him, the man now quickly lifted his head so he could look me in the eye – and again those eyes.  I would swear that never before in my life had I ever seen anything even remotely like them.  And if I had thought his eyes captivating, then the guy went and upped the ante by speaking to me.

“You’re…” he hesitated at first, but then stated the obvious, “a woman,” the man concluded and then fell to silence for a several moments his words having again escaped him.  “God has sent us a woman” he spoke, this time with greater surety.  His was a declaration spoken in awe.  Then I wondered – exactly who did he mean by us?

I could only offer an awkward laugh in response to his words, not knowing what else to do.

“Funny – I was just thinking that God had sent me a lunatic” I confessed, my tongue getting the better of me, just as it always had before the world went south.  Old habits died hard, I supposed.  In response, the man only proffered a slanted grin.  “Uh – my name is Sierra” I remembered my manners and so introduced myself, summoning up a welcoming smile even though I was shaking inside.  It was a good thing that I was kneeling since standing up just then would not have been a viable option.  I was of the mind that had I made the attempt then my knees would have gone on strike and my so my legs would have buckled underneath me.

Ok, so – now what? I wondered.

“Forgive me, I thought…” the man began but then trailed off once more.  “Aidan – my name is Aidan Kael” he returned in kind, still studying me with those intense eyes of his, which did nothing short of make me feel unsettled.

After another few moments of awkward silence, the man now slowly lifted a hand to my face, pressing his palm to my cheek.  Maybe he needed assurance that this wasn’t just a dream, that this was indeed a real woman who knelt there before him.  The disbelief was still to be read in his eyes, though, along with something else as well.  It was almost as if he thought he recognized me, although I knew with certainty that I had never before met him.

Then it finally hit me – the guy was regarding me as if I was a ghost instead of a girl.  His eyes seemed to be looking right through me and so in that moment I considered that maybe I was a specter but no one had bothered to clue me in that I was dead.  It was probable that I reminded him of someone he had once known.  After all, I was of Mexican descent and if you’ve seen one beaner woman, then you’ve seen us all.  Or at least to the eyes of one very Caucasian male, I figured.

That was how we came to make each other’s acquaintance, myself and this very tall, imposing man named Aidan.  An odd foot to start off on, but there was nothing that could really be considered normal in our world.  However, something continued to dog me about his initial reaction.  This left me with a lingering impression that Aidan was holding out, although I was unsure why the suspicion should stick.  I just summed it up as nervous imagination and too many years on my own.  Letting it roll off my mind, I turned the thought around and instead decided to revel in the company that God had sent me, lunatic or no.  What I had done to deserve so handsome a companion I had no idea – but I decided to just silently thank the Lord Above and left it at that.

Don’t ask, don’t tell, after all.

With my new found companion in tow, or vice versa, actually, since he took over my life and not the other way around, the days were no longer a drudgery of idle wandering.  The rhythm of my life went on, but now it wasn’t quite so lonely.  The ripple which had been created by our meeting, this man and me, was of little consequence to our desert world.  To me, however, it certainly was a major event, and no less to Aidan, I was aware.

As the hours grew into days, I came to discover what an interesting, as well as enigmatic, man Aidan truly was – it was almost as if he had leapt out of the pages of some adventure book.  However, the words quiet and pensive suited him well for he never spoke without giving thought to his words.  In this he was the exact opposite of me, since I tended to constantly run off at the mouth.  How could I not?  The only one I had had to talk to for seven years, beside myself, was the local fauna.  Be it one year or one hundred, it didn’t make a difference with me, though.  It had always been my nature to chat up a storm regardless, and being the gentleman that Aidan was, he politely let this woman babble away.

Aidan had one impressive set of survival skills, I had to hand it to him there, and he also proved to be an master hunter.  He was definitely more skilled than I was with a bow, his prowess with the weapon was nothing short of scary.  His marksmanship was always dead-on.  With each passing day I found myself learning more and more from him – and here I had thought I was a pretty darned good survivalist.  The natural superiority of men, I considered, disgruntled by the notion, but was more than grateful for his guidance.

I wasn’t really keen on hunting, never had been, but to survive I did what I had to do, since eating MRE’s had gotten old – and fast.  Even so, I apologized to everything I killed for food, even lowly fish.  I was an omnivore, though, and truly loved quail eggs – it sure took a lot of them to make an omelet, though.  A vegetarian I was when opportunity presented itself and wasn’t opposed to eating what amounted to nuts and berries.  Prickly pear fruit was my favorite treat, however, and was probably one reason I had wandered close to the lower deserts – a need to satisfy my sweet tooth.

Aidan didn’t fuck around when he hunted.  Granted, everything was fair game, so to speak – but when opportunity presented itself, he would expertly down a deer with an ease that came from lots of practice.  I would always get queasy when he would afterwards gut whatever poor beast he had killed.  Large scale slaughter turned my stomach, but after the first night we had roasted venison, well – ok, then.  Aidan could kill Bambi once in a while as long as I didn’t have to get personal with his kill.  No need to worry – he took care of it all, including cooking it.

And the man most certainly could cook.

Aidan, however, was a constant source of curiosity for me.  Naturally, at first I had been wary, since I didn’t know him from Adam.  After all, it didn’t take a genius to figure out what would happen if you put together a man and a woman who had so long been deprived of intimate contact.  However, Aidan conducted himself like a true gentleman, for which I was, as well as was not, grateful.

It frankly blew my mind, the extent of his restraint.

So much for preconceived notions, I supposed.

And everyone always used to maintain that women were the more unpredictable of the two sexes.  Guess again, people, I thought, feeling downright aggravated by this puzzle of a man.

It was either that Aidan was content being a monk or I just flat out repulsed the guy.  Coin toss there, I thought in dismay.  Maybe he didn’t have a taste for beaner women?

Who knew.

Aidan was one male with a serious storehouse chock full of self-control, I decided, being unable to help but muse that God, in His infinite amusement, had sent me not only a lunatic, but a celibate one no less.

However, as I had always maintained, nothing was ever written in stone, but rather in the ever shifting sands of the ageless desert.  Just as I knew without a doubt that time would tell all tales.