Free Tribulation by Philip W Simpson Page A

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to being edible, and there was still the constant threat of disease
but he’d just have to risk it. He may be immune to human diseases,
but Grace certainly wasn’t.
    And he hoped
she liked rat, because that’s all there was.
     

     
    It was still
daylight outside and he felt his eyes watering as he worked.
Sunlight, while not actually dangerous too him, was more of a
nuisance. As a boy, he’d spent much more time in the daylight and
it hadn’t done him any harm. It was just that he had become a
creature of the night during the last few years. He liked the night
and the moon and the strength it brought him. During the day, he
just felt exposed.
    He’d been
meaning to get sunglasses for some time, just for this sort of
eventuality - when circumstances dictated that he must be out in
daylight. It would have made preparing the rat meat easier. He
supposed he could have waited until night fall, but it was
important to get some food into Grace. Her body, whilst not
emaciated, was certainly thin. Some food may help her get her
strength back more quickly.
    He reflected
that Hell probably sustained her like it did him, without the need
for food or water. Actually, there was no probably about it. He
couldn’t imagine that Bone demon hand-feeding her like some infant.
Regardless, she’d been there for months. Months without food or
water. Months of continual torture, both mental and physical. So it
wasn’t just Grace’s physical needs he was worried about. Meeting
those may help in the long run but it was her mental state he was
more concerned about. Prolonged exposure to the conditions in Hell
was enough to snap even the strongest mind.
    The rats were
plump and well fed, having gorged themselves on the multitude of
huge locusts that infested the area. He used a small stainless
steel knife he’d picked up from a camping store to gut and skin
them. He wasn’t about to use either of his precious weapons on such
a mundane task.
    Sam hunted
around and finally found two fairly straight dead branches. He
spitted four of the five rats and then cleaned them as best as he
could with his limited water consignment. Next, to conserve his
dwindling gas supply on his camping stove, he lit a fire, finding a
position that was reasonably sheltered from the wind behind the
house, gathering arm loads of dead wood and ringing it with large
stones. Being bone dry, the wood took only the slightest effort to
light, and he took special care to ensure it would not spread.
Given that it hadn’t rained for months, it would be foolhardy to
allow even one spark or burning ember to escape. Any survivors in
the area had enough to deal with without running for their lives
from a raging forest fire.
    He let the
flames burn down until only glowing coals remained, then put some
more rocks into it and let them heat up. He’d used this method
before. During some overnight training expeditions in Utah as a
youth, he and Hikari had sometimes cooked just like this. Just the
act of preparation brought back fond recollections of him and the
times they spent together. He wondered for a moment whether his old
master was happy. He assumed so. Who wouldn’t be up there in
Heaven? he thought sourly. Probably drinking ambrosia and nibbling
the most delicate and delicious foods. While he sat on a rock and
cooked rat. That was fair. The contrast made him smile for a
moment.
    He quickly went
back inside to check on Grace. She hadn’t moved and seemed alright.
Her bandages displayed some blood soaking, but not as bad as he had
expected. In the kitchen he found some plates and a small pot that
were clean but for a layer of dust. He wiped them as best he could
with a rag and then returned to his fire. The stones were scalding
hot by now. Turning them over, he placed the spitted rat’s skewers
on them. They sizzled immediately, sending the delicious aroma of
frying meat into the air. It may have been rat, but it still smelt
good to him. Hopefully the smell alone would