"Next Steps"

314 days until extinction.

“In the end we managed to make the arrest, brought the guy down. But that was cold comfort given the cost of it all.” Harper spoke solemnly, unwilling to make eye contact.

“My brother’s life, you mean.” Gabby’s tone was bitter, but not cutting, like she had lost the will to injure Harper further. She had finished stitching up the bullet wound halfway through her story and now finished wrapping it in a sterile bandage.

Silence fell between the pair for some time after that, the sounds of music and delight filtering in the window from down the street. There was a tension in the air but no longer as heavy as before, Harper could breath easier. Yet she could not quite resist casting sidelong glances at the other woman every few minutes.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Gabrielle had paused packing up the surgical implements and turned to eye Harper with curiosity but also a deep hurt.

“I…” Briefly Harper thought about telling her the same lie she had been telling herself, that it had all been to protect her brothers reputation in her mind. But what use were lies anymore, what use had they ever been?

“I was ashamed,” she admitted in a quiet voice, swallowing hard to try and rid herself of the lump that was suddenly lodged in her throat. “For the longest time I told myself it was because I wanted to protect his reputation for you, but that was just my justification. In truth I just…I am ashamed at what I did, how it hurt you, how it ruined what might have been between us, and how I was responsible for all of that at the end of the day.”

Once more there was silence before Gabby stood up abruptly, moving across the room to a very small cabinet tucked into the corner on which sat three bottles of half finished liquor. Taking one of the bottles she uncorked it and gave it a small sniff, smiling at the scent.

“When I saw my brother last he gave me this, told me we’d finish it off when he was on leave next. Told me it was an ancestral mescal, made with traditional methods passed down through generations, preserved from long ago. I didn’t really understand it at the time.”

Walking back over she placed the half finished bottle on the table in between her and Harper. “I’ve started to understand a little bit by helping this little community grow, the importance of keeping something from dying off.”

Gabby grabbed the bottle and took a slow but heavy pull from it before passing it to Harper.

“We are going to finish this entire bottle, in honour of my brother’s memory, and to bury at least some of my hatred for you.”

Taking the bottle she took an equally large pull of it, savouring the earthy but smoky taste of the mescal as the liquor danced across her tongue. Setting the bottle down she could feel the pleasant burning of alcohol warming her chest and she gave Gabrielle a small nod and smile.

“To Krystian, then.”

Both Gabby and Harper had finished the bottle within an hour and pulled out one of the other two she had left. By the second hour they had finished all three bottles and started to sing pub songs at the top of their lungs. After the third rendition of “The Drunken Sailor” any ill will had been buried under layers of booze.

It felt good to be around someone that knew her before the world had been given its expiration date, comforting like being wrapped in a blanket pulled right from the dryer. For the first time in a long, long time she felt like an actual human being.

-----

Morning arrived almost as abruptly as the thrumming of the headache that roused her.

Harper groaned as she woke before feeling something pressing against her, looking down she could see Gabrielle’s smaller frame nestled against her chest. Her nose filled with the familiar scent of her former lover, a faint floral potpourri alongside the lingering smell of sweat and alcohol from last night.

She brushed a small strand of hair behind Gabby’s ear, smiling at the way her eyes flickered slightly from whatever she was dreaming about.

As Gabby’s eyes slowly opened they were suddenly filled with shock as she leaped to her feet, balancing like a newborn foal while loudly clearing her throat.

“Harper! What happened! Why are you in my bed!?”

“My guess?” Harper sat up and ran her fingers through her hair, revealing the large burn and scar across her left eye and forehead. She gestured to the clothes they were still wearing. “We both passed out after one too many shanties.”

Gabrielle’s face flushed as she nodded and regained her composure.

“Good, good.” Moving to the table she picked up a canteen and took a long swig before tossing it over to Harper. “Hydrate a bit, it’ll help with the headache.”

Finishing the rest of the canteen with a groan of satisfaction Harper stood up and stretched before tying her hair back up.

“So what we talked about, that still good?”

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll keep the kid safe. Just hold up your end. I’ll radio the armoury and get your gear released, along with some ammo. Anything else you think you’ll need?”

Taking a few minutes to think about it Harper asked with a calm expression, “I’m going to need a few mouse traps, Styrofoam, and whatever metal cans you can spare. And do you know if the cars around here have been drained of gas?”