Free Days of Love and Blood by R.S. Carter

required a little bit of courage, a little bit of strength.
    We were almost to the top. The area had more bald patches of rock than it did trees. Ritchie was ahead of me, creating the path and throwing sprinkles of mud and sand over my face. I didn’t complain. I was enjoying our little adventure in the mountains together.
    My hand grasped the next rock only to find a completely flat surface. There was nothing to grip. I felt myself sliding backwards, the fingerless leather gloves - useless.
    “Shit,” I gasped.
    Before my hand could slip away, I quickly released the other hand to grab hold of the same ledge. It was a poor decision but I thought if I could quickly hoist myself up, my arms could brace my body against the rock better than my hands alone. That wasn’t going to happen. Now both hands were sliding. I kept reaching out, one hand at a time as if I was swimming, trying to move ahead. I stretched out my fingers, clawing at the slimy surface and unable to catch the smallest of knots with my fingernails. I kept sliding back as if I was on greased Teflon. The faster I swam, the faster I slipped away from the ledge.
    “Ritchie? No! Ritchie!” My eyes were wide with the realization that I no longer had control. I was going to fall.
    I didn’t see h im turn around and crawl down to me. I saw nothing but the boulder in front of me - the one I was desperately trying to cling to - the one trying to kill me. Ritchie was there just as the very last fingertip left rock. His strong hand wrapped around one of my wrists and he hoisted me up to the ledge as if I were a small child, shattering his own knee cap in the process.

    Solomon and Cooper left Ivy at my place and headed back to the Fielding’s farm. I invited her to stay for the night and she graciously obliged. I was grateful for not having to be alone that night. A stranger would have filled the void well enough but it was bittersweet to have my old childhood friend by my side, someone who knew me down to the core. Ivy knew everything about me - almost everything.
    The grief I felt from knowing the fate of my parents was partly relieved by the awareness of a common soul - still alive. Not just any soul, but a close friend. We had drifted apart after I left Tennessee but kept our friendship alive through social networks and email. Whenever I came back into town, she was the first person I sought out besides my parents. Ivy had never been able to visit me in Oregon.
    I allowed Ivy to enjoy the luxury of the first steamy shower. While she was in the bathroom, I pulled up dusty boxes of old toys from the basement and let Ronan go through them. Half of the toys were pink but Ronan didn’t seem to mind. I put them in my former room, which was now his, and filled the white dresser with all of his clothes from the camper. When Ivy was done, I quickly took the first warm shower that I’d had in weeks.
    For the rest of the day, Ivy helped me take inventory. I made a list of everything I needed and she agreed to watch over Ronan while I escaped for a raid. I made another list of items which she was desperately in need of. It was going to be a big run. Although I now had my parents’ cars, the big camper would be required to haul goods from a raid. Fewer runs would be safer, so getting as many supplies as possible during one run was the plan.
    As the evening approached I made a dinner of canned ham, corn and instant mashed potatoes. The food may have been prepackaged but hot food on glass plates eaten around a regular dining room table was simply divine after living on the road for months. Ronan ate every scrap on his plate and asked for seconds. I enjoyed hearing the sounds of metal silverware scratching against the plates and laughter around the table. It felt normal.
    After Ronan had his bath, I sat him in the living room and put on a Disney movie. I beckoned Ivy to follow me by motioning my finger. When we were downstairs I opened the door to what was once a root cellar