closed their eyes and tried their best to ignore the hungry mosquitos.
Steve rose first in the morning, and woke the others so they could move on from the insect hive they had slept in. The early morning air was cooler and fresher, but the lingering moisture in the air caused them all to sweat through mottled and broken skin. Jenn’s face was covered in a bumps and sores, rubbed raw against the muddy ground overnight.
“We need to find water. Water we can drink, not this stuff. This puddle looks like it’s been used as a latrine!” said Steve thirstily, encouraging the group to stand up and carry on walking, to find somewhere they could safely set up a semi-permanent camp. “Look, there’s water all over the flipping place. But can we drink it? No, we can’t… Jenn, what the hell are you doing?”
Jenn was busy slurping at the small muddy pond- previously described as a latrine- when she heard her name. She turned sharply and caught Steve’s eye.
“Really?” cried Steve.
“Well, what else am I going to do? I need to drink. Even you can see how much we’re sweating.” Jenn snapped back defensively. “I was desperate.”
“You have to at least filter the water before drinking it. Just look at it. It’s gross! Imagine what Phil did in that last night. You know what he can be like!”
“I was thirsty, okay? It’s my body, I’ll do what I like with it.”
“Just don’t come crying to me when it’s coming back out… both ends…”
Jenn stood up, and moved off rapidly towards Phil in the distance, moving slowly off into the jungle and almost invisible in the thick jungle of trees. Phil had always been hard working and independent, and his line of work became all the more valuable when the war started.
Trained as an EMT but fascinated with tropical disease, Phil had been stationed in Central America, the outpost for research regarding the biochemical that had been used against the United States. Iran had left their peace treaty with the UN un-renewed, and after many empty threats had finally decided to pull the trigger. Most of the Northern United States was now a wasteland ravaged by a simple yet deadly virus, one for which there was no known cure. Most Americans were evacuated to the south of the county, but a select qualified few were shipped out to Central America to the neutral country of Nicaragua to lead the research effort. Phil led the sub team providing medical assistance to researchers, but as of yet no one’s treatment methods were effective in treating or even preventing the spread of the virus.
Phil continued his work in the quarantined, repurposed army base, and soon became good friends with other members of outpost. The outpost was secure, and no one could get in or out without a full check over and 48 hour isolation. As a result most of the team became good friends, some even in a romantic way. Jenn had hit it off with Phil immediately, but they tried not to let it get in the way of their work. It was hard to be secretive on such a small military base, being constantly surrounded by the same people day after day, week after week. Phil lost count of the amount of times they were caught in the walk in larder; neither could keep their urges under control.
Their relationship they managed to keep away from their closest friends. Steve and Emily didn’t have a clue.
The group headed further down into the forested valley in the sweltering afternoon heat, heading downhill as much as possible, with the hope of finding water. Steve knew of several small rivers in the nearby area, but without a compass or navigational equipment he had no idea which way to head.
The gloomy forest soon began to feel imposing, with no distinct features in the green and brown repetitive landscape.
“We need to mark our path. For all we know we could be wandering around in circles.” Said Steve after gathering the group for a pep talk.
“We’ve been heading down hill, it’s impossible for us to
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