short story

The air was filled with scorched dust blown about by a wild wind. The man trudged on, weariness burning his legs stiff and his throat dry with thirst. His goggles and the scarf he had bound about his face protected him for the most part against the blight, but that didn't stop his throat from choking a time or two and he would have to cough to catch his breath. Three days…three days he counted since he had last seen another living thing. And it hadn’t been much of a living thing. Rattlesnake was a dangerous meal, having to navigate around the poison and all. And it was two days since he had found any water. Food he could go several days without, as he was accustomed, but water was another thing.
     It did no good to think about it, but in times of desperate thirst like these his mind would wander back to his childhood, when he would play in the green grass of his family’s backyard and take long drinks from the water hose behind his parents’ back. He could still feel the cool, fallen leaves underneath his feet.
      How quickly humanity had fallen from its perch. It seemed to have happened overnight but the man knew it had been happening long before that. Like lice crawling about, the world had slowly been overcome with the teeming hordes of humanity, stinging it with their venom. The world had grown wearier, and wearier, until it had finally grown tired of fighting back. The air grew dry, and the sun grew hotter. The man was sure there was some grand scientific explanation for it, but it was beyond his learning. None of it could save him now, in any case.
      He was one of the fortunate ones who had learned to adapt to the times, if one could call it fortunate. He had been going for so long he wondered if he were the last man alive. However, despair had never come easily for him. He had seen others succumb to it. He would fall asleep in a camp of ten humans and only seven would wake up, and that had been in the early days. The last time, he had fallen asleep in a camp of three and awakened alone.
      It had never occurred to him to end his own existence. His end would come on its own without his help, he was sure, one of these long, weary days. There was no use being cowardly about it.
      He had seen a rain in the distance just a day ago and had been walking in its direction ever since. If there was anything living around here, it would head in that direction too. The promise of food and water was enough to put a little more strength in the man's steps. Perhaps he would find more abandoned camps or even towns. His shirt was getting worn and the sole on his left shoe was a little loose.
      His breath caught when he saw a figure about thirty feet away from him. He couldn't stop himself from coughing again. Until now the dusty winds had prevented him seeing it. He quickly pulled out the flint he carried in his belt. It was only a long piece of sharpened rock bound at the handle by leather scraps, but it had served him well enough in the past. Forgetting his weariness, he edged slowly towards the figure on the balls of his feet. Even when he saw the thing was unmoving he feared a trap.
      The bull's broken, skeletal form told the man it was dead, but he still peered about the environment for signs of an ambush. The small hills about him were rocky, but there was nothing to indicate there would be any hiding places. He knelt down and smelled the beast. It hadn't been dead for long, but the smell of waste was just as powerful as decay. Its belly had been torn open and its organs ravaged. Something else must have been here recently.
     After looking around for anyone else about, the man decided he wasn't going to past up the chance for some fresh food. However, the pickings were slim. The intestines had been torn apart and their waste, meager as it was, had ruined the rest. There was barely any meat on the rest of the bull, so the man took a rock lying nearby and began to smash away at one of its legs. As soon as there was a big enough crack in the bone he took the scarf off of his face and bent over to suck the marrow, glancing up every few moments to ensure he had remained alone. The blood moistened his parched mouth.
      Having assuaged his hunger for the moment, the man went to work slicing the remaining three intact legs off with his flint. They would make good meals later. He had ropes he carried on his shoulder for the purpose. The work was more difficult than he thought. His left arm would grow stiff and he'd have to shake it out. He was so intent on his purpose that it was only after he had strapped the booty on his back that he noticed the ground was a little moist. He knelt down and felt the ground after removing one of his ragged gloves. Yes, it was damp. He must have finally reached the place where the rain had fallen.
      The man carefully walked around, studying the ground for any trails. Thankfully, the wind had died down enough to where he could remove his goggles. He kept his flint in hand. He wasn't counting on whatever had eaten the organs being gone.
      The man stopped and listened closely. He was ever conscious of any new sound, or in this case an old familiar sound. It was the trickling of water. For the tiniest moment a rush of madness prickled his skin and he wanted to dive towards the sound. He took deep breaths to steady himself and regain self-control. He couldn't make a rash movement now. He bit his dry lower lip and inched forward. The sound was coming from around one of the rocks.
      He was surprised to find that turning around the rock showed him the entrance to a great cavern, but he was even more amazed by what he found inside it. A pool…a pool at least a couple of yards across, with water from the rains still dripping into it. He could barely believe it. He had been expecting no more than a handful or two of water to keep him going for a little while longer, but not a pool! He could even stay here for a little while, with his meals and a steady supply of water. The cavern looked to be adequate shelter.
      His reverie was cut short, however, when he had entered the cavern and taken a few steps toward the pool. Somehow, he hadn’t noticed a few moments ago, but he was not alone. The thought that he might encounter what had eaten at the dead bull had never been far from his mind but he had still harbored a small hope that it might be another human being.
      Not a wolf.
      The emaciated animal had been lying against the cool, cavern wall and had stirred to its feet as the man drew closer. It stood still, just staring at the man. The man could count the ribs on the creature’s side, to say nothing of its protruding shoulders and hips. He was sure he looked the same underneath his layers of ragged clothing.
      Well, if the man was going to die, he would rather die with quenched thirst. Still with his flint in hand and never taking his eyes off of the wolf, he moved closer to the pool. The wolf did nothing to stop him, not even a growl. He stood on the opposite side of the pool, like a statue. The man knelt down, removed his left glove with his teeth and put it in his pocket, and then scooped up some water.
      It was just as wonderful as he had imagined, and for a brief moment he could pretend he was the little boy with the garden hose again. But only for a moment; he still had the wolf to consider. He took several more gulps before deciding that he was satisfied for the time being. He took a few steps back until he reached the cool wall of the cavern, let down his burdens, and sat down. From where he was, he had a good view of both the wolf and the cavern entrance, in case something else wanted to join them.
      The wind had picked up again on the outside, but the man and wolf were nicely sheltered from it.
      Since for the first time in several days his throat didn’t feel like sandpaper, the man spoke, “You were the one who took the stomach, weren’t you? Why stop there? Not strong enough?”
      The wolf continued to stand and stare, though the man didn’t think he was about to pounce. Sadness and weariness pulled at its features and its ears were drooped. He finally seemed to grow tired of only staring at the man, for his eyes lowered and his head bowed.
      The man said, “You don’t have anything to fear from me. I’m quite content at the moment, and it has been a long while since I had anything living to talk to. Lie down and we’ll keep each other company for a bit.”
      Incredibly, the wolf ponderously lowered himself to the ground, putting his head between his front paws. The man couldn’t tell if he were truly listening or if he had just given up.
      “How long have you been alone, I wonder? You must have been very great and proud once, perhaps even an alpha. Did you kill your brothers or did they simply die?”
      The wolf started to lick his forepaws and the man wondered if they had sores on them. It was just as likely that the wolf was just trying to keep himself awake around the stranger. The sun was beginning to set and the wind kept howling. The man knew neither he nor his new companion were going to travel any more that day. He had a small lantern among his belongings with a solar panel attached to it to gather energy during the day. It was one of the final vestiges of civilization and one of humanity’s last ditch attempts to conserve energy.
      “Too little, too late,” the man mumbled as he set the lantern up. He said to the wolf, “You’ll forgive me if I let this run a little tonight. You would have the advantage over me in the dark. But we don’t need it quite yet.” He glanced at what little of the sky he could see from his vantage point, “It doesn’t seem like it will rain again for a while, but even between the two of us this pool could last us a while. And the moisture might attract more food. We could have a good thing going here, you and I.”
      The wolf looked once again at the man and the man could swear he looked incredulous. He was likely wondering why the human hadn't tried to kill him yet. A part of the man wondered that himself; wolf meat wasn't any worse than bull meat. However, he hadn't had anyone to talk to in such a while he had almost forgotten the sound of his own voice. He could at least pretend the wolf could talk back.
      "So," the man said, "why are you here? Did you follow the rain like I did or did you smell the bull? He can't have been dead for long before we showed up...though you didn't kill him, I don’t think. There were no signs of a struggle."
      The wolf gazed at him in the eye for a moment before his eyes drifted towards the man's discarded belongings, towards the remaining bull legs.
      The man chuckled, "I suppose it could go either way. You've been traveling a long time and are bone weary, I imagine. So am I." He picked up one of the legs, “Peace offering?”
      The wolf only tracked his movements as the man walked carefully around the pool towards him, holding the leg aloft. The man had honed his instincts by now and he could tell the wolf had no intention of fighting back, whatever happened. He gently placed the leg nearby the animal and went back to his own spot. The wolf sniffed the leg and began to gnaw at the upper joint where the cut had been made.
      “Yes,” the man said, getting a rock and smashing at the bone of one of his own bull legs, “we can pretend we’re brothers now. I had a brother once. He died a long time ago, before everything started to go bad. He didn’t live to see all this… You’re probably too young to remember what it was like before now. This has always been your world.” The man pointed to the pool, “You see this pool? It looks big to you, but when I was young we would call it a puddle and splash around it in our bare feet. Did you notice the small, dry patches of grass out there? Probably our bull’s last meal. There were fields and fields as far as the eye could see of lush, green grass and entire herds of cattle could eat their fill… Say, I wonder how long that bull was alone before it passed on. He’s not like you or me; he wouldn’t be able to make use of his dead companions… He would have been born in this world too.”
      He sucked some of the marrow and began tugging on the gristle at the joint, “What makes creatures like him, or you or me? Struggling little brown and dusty insects crawling on a wasteland that only gets worse day by day. Only death stops us and not by our own will.” He laughed bitterly and put a piece of gristle in his mouth to chew on. He kept talking with the piece between his teeth, “I suppose we’re too dumb, or just too stubborn, to know when we’re done for. Yes…no doubt you would have been the mightiest alpha of the greatest wolf pack the world would have ever seen. That bull would have been the pride of his owner, winner of prizes, and would have sired many calves. And I…”
      The man paused for a moment, leaning back against the wall of the cavern and sucking on the gristle. His mind went back to his younger days and his silly youthful dreams. He went on, “And I…Oh, who knows what I would have done. When I was little I wanted to be a doctor or a soldier. Maybe both; maybe an army doctor. Roaming the fields of battle and tending the wounded. Perhaps even carrying a few of my comrades to safety…” He smiled, “I’ll bet that’s why I’m here talking to you. We’ve shared food. We’re under the same shelter. We can be in this together. Comrades. Would you like that?”
      Of course, the wolf didn’t answer. He was still working on the leg. The man forced himself to swallow the gristle and he grabbed another piece. He could see the stars begin to emerge in the sky. That was one of the few kind things about this world. The milky way showed brightly and more brilliantly in the night sky than it had in centuries. It was a boon for wretches like him.
      Why did the world allow life like him to thrive, if it would only cause it harm? Why didn’t they just stay in the primordial pond where they belonged? How could so many years of change and chance have come to this?
      Still, the night sky was becoming clearer as the evening wore on. There were still things worth seeing and knowing.
      “So beautiful…” he murmured.
      The wolf rose from his place and began to saunter towards the man. He didn’t look aggressive, but the man was still wary of the animal’s intentions. He numbed with shock when the wolf stuck his muzzle in his face and started to lick his beard. It took him a moment or two to realize the wolf was being friendly. The man hadn’t been touched affectionately by another living thing for so long he shakily held up his hand and started to rub the wolf’s head.
      The wolf settled down next to the man, with his head in the man’s lap.
      “Yes, I agree,” the man said, “It’s time to go to sleep.”
      He leaned his head back and looked upward to the sky, waiting for the twilight to dissipate and the night sky to shine in its full glory. There would be no moon tonight, nothing to hinder it. The man and the wolf were both asleep before the twilight was gone.

He awakened the next morning to find that the pool had dried up. Disappointed, he nudged his companion, only for the other to remain motionless. He waited but no breath came. He had once again gone to sleep and awakened alone. He leaned against his friend’s cold body a moment, his heart heavy with the loss of yet another friend in a line of so many, and a deep moan escaped him. Well, now there was nothing keeping him here. There would be no rest, no companionship, and likely no food to come to him. He would have to hunt again.
      He looked to his friend and realized he may as well take what he could from him and be on his way. It was the world he lived in and always had. A part of him had known from the moment he laid eyes on him that his new friend wasn't long for this world and hadn't really been much of a threat.
      At least the wind wasn't so harsh as it had been the previous day, and he was a little more nourished. He would go a little longer. Perhaps he could find another pool and another companion, if there was enough provision to allow companionship. It had been so wonderful to have a warm body to lie against, without being afraid to go to sleep. It had been a gift just to touch and be touched in return with friendship.
      He wanted to give a tribute to the one who had shown him kindness and let him live through the night once more. He hadn't done it in so long, but for the first time in a while he felt a life was truly lost. A life he wanted back and wouldn't have.
      For his fallen friend, and heedless of the unknown around him, the wolf lifted his head back and howled at the barren sky.