adam

Adam hoped he could be forgiven for flinching away from anyone who showed tension and aggression like that, and especially an ape who was larger and most definitely stronger than him, even when Adam wasn’t injured. The young man held his breath until Pahana had sighed and then let his own out just as slowly but with far less sound. He’d gotten good at not doing things too loudly, even if sometimes he really couldn’t help making noise. The gorilla relaxing gave Adam a little relief from the tightness of his chest. This was a situation he hadn’t been in before, bit Pahana also seemed nothing like the other apes that Adam had… heard. Heard stories of, at least. Apparently his father had shot at a few, scared them off at some point but Adam hadn’t been there. What confused Adam were Pahana’s words. How could… the virus made the apes smarter. Different. It was why Pahana could talk. It killed the humans… but then… Adam wasn’t stupid, no matter how much his cousins had tried to tell him as much at certain points. It made sense that Pahana was here, and had come over the bridge, if he’d been with humans. Humans who’d apparently modeled themselves as his parents. Humans who… might have died, because they had kept Pahana. Adam wouldn’t say that. But it left him unsure what to say. Somehow, his family had escaped that fate, either by luck or immunity. Adam guessed the latter now, or he was going to be infected without a doubt, just by being here… “My family is dead too,” Adam said, the words falling from his lips with less emotion that he knew it should illicit. His parents, his aunt, grandparents, cousins. It was just tiring to think about now.

Pahana huffed through his nostrils and turned his eyes to the boy, perplexed. He didn’t… seem very upset about that, which struck the gorilla as strange. How could Adam not be sad that his family had died? Maybe they hadn’t been very close, he supposed. Pahana couldn’t imagine not being sad about losing a family that he was close to. Even though he had been young when his own parents died, he still missed them, still got sad and angry when he thought about it. But, evidently, Adam was different. That… was okay. It had to be. His parents had told him that sometimes, people were just different, and that wasn’t bad.

Of course, the fact that they had been referring to him had gone completely over the gorilla-who-identifies-as-human’s head.

It took Pahana a moment of thought before he grunted quietly and looked at Adam again, strained, not quite sure what he should be saying. It would have been easy to say that he was sorry about Adam’s family, but… Adam didn’t seem upset. Maybe that would be the wrong thing to say.

“They… get sick?”

Adam didn’t know much about how apes aged, and so that didn’t tell him how long Pahana had been out here, but it had been… some time. It had to have been some time, because the gorilla looked adult now. And God above, if he wasn’t, Adam didn’t want to know how big a gorilla could get, because Pahana was already taller than him, and definitely broader. He was an intimidating figure… though, he had a softness to his expression that Adam hoped he was reading right. He wasn’t too good at that with normal humans. That wasn’t too important though because there was something he could respond to now, and he nodded a few times. The city over the bridge. San Fransisco. What had once been home and where they’d visited after it had been evacuated, scavenging for things. Where he had gotten his first camera and its film then, when his mother had taken him through an empty bungalow, while his father guarded the door. He hadn’t been there in a long time though, because eventually the gas had run out and it had been too long to get there and back any other way… “San Francisco. Yeah… I lived there, when I was a kid,” he paused a moment and glanced around the room before focusing again on Pahana, clicking away at his button all the while, “Before… we came over the bridge, to the lodge. After the simian flu started.”

They had lived in the same city… That was something in common. Which was good, because that was how friends were made. Right? Being kind, and having things in common? But then, Adam mentioned the simian flu…

Pahana wrinkled his nose and averted his eyes, fists clenching, muscles going tense.

That was the flu that had made his parents sick. That had made them die. The sickness that made people so scared of one another. It was why people shot at Pahana, thinking he might be infected. The simian flu was the reason that Pahana was so lonely. The reason that he’d had to raise himself from the time he was a child.

And it was the apes that had started it.

Pahana let his anger out in a slow, deep sigh through his nostrils like his father had taught him, and looked back to Adam, a little bit apologetically. It had come without much warning and although the boy hadn’t attempted to attack him yet, he was on edge. Nervous. Pahana didn’t want it to be that way, for both of their sakes.

“Flu… make my… mother… father… die.”

Adam familiarized his fingertips once more with the various little things on each face of the cube. The little metal rollerball and the three turning gears beside it, the one with five tiny buttons, and more, each an action or three and a sensation that provided a hint of comfort and a focus in situations that were too much for his senses. The only thing more comforting, that he’d had to leave behind, had been the heavy comforter than had felt like a hug except he never felt too constrained. After a minute or so of fidgeting, Adam forced himself to look at Pahana again. Being distracted was one of his big issues. It was why he’d tripped, it was why people had gotten so frustrated with him, and it was why he had tried to teach himself to be better about it. He couldn’t ignore his only companion. He especially couldn’t ignore that only companion when the only companion was an ape. A big ape… a big, strong ape. Adam took a deep breath and focused his gaze forcibly on Pahana’s face, though not his eyes. His nose was a good place, and so Adam settled for looking at it, the way the ape’s nostrils flared a little with every breath. “How… did you come here?” Was that a good question? Did it make sense? Adam didn’t even know if he could quite figure out what exactly he was asking to know. It was a weird way to phrase any question he could mean.

That little cube was so confusing, so intriguing… Pahana was distracted by it, watching it for a few moments of silence between the two of them, until the boy spoke again and that redirected his attention. How had Pahana come here? That was easy enough to answer, even if thinking about it made him sad. Lonely. The gorilla missed his family…

“Mother… Father…. bring me… here… when I was… baby.”

He could remember that day clearly. There had been a sense of urgency that he hadn’t understood, his parents clearly worried about something even though they tried to mask it with fake smiles and reassurances. They had told him that they were going on a vacation, though Pahana hadn’t and still didn’t know what that word meant, packed some of their things, and driven out here much faster than Pahana remembered the car normally going. He had been afraid, clinging tightly to his mother’s clothes the whole ride…

Pahana barely remembered the old home they had lived in, in the city. This cabin in the woods had been home for so long, now. All he could remember was that this was smaller than their old home.

“Live… in city… before… come here. Over… bridge…”

The water was cool and had that strange, distinct taste of having been boiled that had become normal and comforting after the taps had stopped working, at least… after a bit. He’d had to adjust as he had with almost everything and it hadn’t been an easy process. He liked to think he’d gotten better at it. When he’d drained the glass, he set it down carefully and moved for his bag in slow motion, with eyes on Pahana the entire time as if to communicate that he knew the ape was there. He wasn’t going for anything dangerous. But he paused, when Pahana spoke and asked more or less the same question that Adam had asked of him, yet… It made Adam’s throat go tight, too tight for a moment to speak as he opened his mouth and then shut it again, giving a stiff nod. He’d been alone for a long time now, but it didn’t make thinking about that fact any easier, or why he was alone. What had led to this… With those tense thoughts, he found his bag with his hands and unzipped it, fumbling blindly through the top layer to retrieve the yellowed plastic cube with its coloured parts long since darkened by his touch. It was still intact though, a sturdy little object that allowed for him to click the button side with a thumb while feeling the switch flip back and forth between his other digits in a way that felt instantly right and gave a small outlet to what had been going on.

Adam’s reaction made Pahana feel guilty. At least, a little bit. All he had done was ask the same question that Adam had asked of him. It wasn’t his fault that it made Adam sad… was it? It felt like it was. At least Pahana knew that no other humans would come looking for Adam and find his home instead, but the comfort was dulled by his sense of having done something wrong. The gorilla twiddled his fingers nervously, unsure of what to do to remedy this, until Adam reached for his bag and Pahana’s attention was focused immediately on that, instead.

Thankfully, it was not a weapon. At least, not that he could tell. Pahana’s brows raised and he inched a little closer, attempting to peer at the small object that Adam now held in a hand, which was making a clicking noise. The ape didn’t recognize what he was seeing, and he cast his companion a quizzical glance with his brows furrowed slightly.

The ‘no’ gave Adam reason to pause because he could maybe deal with this one ape but more than one? Definitely not, and what would they even be like? Or what if it was another human? Adam wasn’t sure which was honestly a worse possibility in the given time and place– Oh. The boy swallowed again as if he had something stuck in his throat. He didn’t quite know if there was anything to come next. He supposed it answered the question the way he wanted it to but something about how Pahana had said that left a sour taste in the back of Adam’s throat, the kind of feeling that made him just want to find something to take some photos of. He didn’t do it as much as he once had. He understood his film was a limited resource no matter how much of it he hoarded away in his bag, but he wouldn’t be adverse to using a little now if it would distract him. It definitely would… The offer of water at least gave him something to focus on, and Adam gave a couple rapid nods. “Yes.” This was more kindness than he’d gotten in some time and the fact it was coming from a gorilla wasn’t lost on Adam. He was supposed to look to humans for hopeful companionship and support, not an ape. But he couldn’t be choosy, could he? And if this creature was giving even a temporary kindness, Adam wasn’t going to turn his nose up at it. Absently, the young man pushed his glasses back up said nose. He really couldn’t…

Pahana hurried away, back to the kitchen, where he kept a store of clean water in the refrigerator that didn’t work anymore. His father had showed him how to boil it to make sure it was clean and didn’t have germs. Pahana took this seriously, because germs made people sick, and being sick made people die…

The gorilla shook that thought from his mind and sighed as he poured some of the water into a drinking glass. This boy wasn’t sick and neither was he, so they would be fine. He had to keep telling himself that.

Returning to the boy on the couch, Pahana gave him the glass of water and took a few steps back again, standing and waiting awkwardly for some idea of what to do next. It had been longer than Pahana knew how to count since he had seen another person and his parents had always been there to take charge and tend to visitors. A lot of the time, they had told Pahana to hide and stay quiet when people came by. He hadn’t understood why as a child and he still didn’t now, but he couldn’t hide this time. He was the host, not his deceased parents.

“You… alone… in woods?”

It wasn’t exactly as if Adam could do much more than stay, though he did know he wanted to get into his bag as soon as possible. But he also knew he didn’t want to go for it while his companion was gone, no matter how much he felt like he needed to do something with his hands and his teeth. He settled for giving the former a few hard shakes and chewing the inside of a cheek, but he stilled both actions when Pahana reappeared. Food was something that took nearly as much energy to get as it gave anymore, and Adam had been living on mushrooms and foraged berries and roots for some time now and it was enough, but something about the sight of what seemed to be meat, jerky of some sort, sent his stomach into a kind of overdrive that reminded him it wasn’t much in comparison to the activity he did in a given day. Pahana hardly had to say a word because the moment permission was given, Adam had taken the bag and gotten into it. The meat wasn’t exactly seasoned or such but it was heartier already than any of the various forest “salads” Adam had been eating as of late, and it gave him something to chew which given his state of a few moments ago was a relief. As he chewed, he glanced around the room. It was a living room, that much was clear, but without much in the way of lights it felt a little eerie. It wasn’t the polished look of an urban home, but Adam could feel that in its prime it had probably been comfortable and cosy. The fireplace looked recently used, and the place did have that smell of burnt wood and smoke, now that Adam thought about it. The crackle of logs would be a welcome sound… Adam only ever made small, easily extinguishable fires, enough to boil water for safety or cook on those rare occasions he could. A fire would be nice… his eyes tracked across the mantle, where frame photos he couldn’t quite make out sat. Those piqued his interest. They’d say something about the situation, who had been here, and also… they were photographs. He hadn’t seen any besides his own in awhile. Adam swallowed his piece of jerky and hesitated a moment, wondering if there was a way to frame any question now, if there were any reasonable thing to way or ask at all… “Are you… alone?”

Pahana kept his arms tucked close to his body, touching his fingers together, while he watched Adam eat. He was doing everything right so far, he was pretty sure of it. Pahana had never really entertained a guest before, much less taken care of one that was injured… But the boy wasn’t complaining, and he seemed to like the meat. His ankle had been tended to. This was going… pretty well! Pahana knew that his parents would be proud of him, if they were here.

But they weren’t, it was just himself and Adam, which is why the boy’s question gave him pause. His eyes flicked around the room for a moment, and then an expression of confusion came over his face.

“No,”

Pahana shook his head, confusion now replaced with concern for the mental state of his companion.

“You… here.”

Obviously, Pahana wasn’t alone. Maybe Adam was tired, or maybe he hadn’t been eating enough – he did look a bit thin, the gorilla noticed – or maybe pain from his ankle made his brain not work right. Well, company with a half working brain was better than no company, he supposed.

The gorilla hesitated for a few moments, but decided it was better not to make Adam feel stupid, and maybe changing the subject would be better.

“Drink…?”

“Pahana…” Adam repeated the name, stringing the syllables together with more ease than the ape had. It was a name… that was the most that Adam could say of it. He’d never heard it before, it called forth no particular memories or associations and he didn’t exactly had any reason to ask what it meant. The young man was a far more delicate creature than Pahana and he hoped he could be forgiven for tensing when the gorilla touched him. Besides the pain of course, he was anxious about being cared for and touched by another… anyone, and the fact that he hadn’t started banging the heel of his palm into his leg was probably only because he was gripping the couch so tightly that he’d have impressions of the material in his hands. He wished he could relax. But his toy was in his bag, like almost all of his things and he didn’t want to go reaching for it right now, not in the middle of this. When the ape finished, his handiwork surprisingly delicate and careful for one with such large hands, Adam gave a hard swallow and then what he hoped was a real looking smile. He hadn’t smiled at anyone in awhile and had never felt especially good at it even if his mother had said he had a sweet one. That probably didn’t matter to a gorilla though… “Thank you.”

The gorilla gave a sharp nod, a smile smile upon his lips, when the boy repeated his name. That’s that. We know eachother’s names.

This, along with being thanked, had put Pahana in a much happier, more relaxed mood. He fidgeted a little with subdued excited energy, seemingly unsure of what to do now, for several moments of silence. All at once, the ape seemed to come to a decision, looking to Adam again and holding up his hand and pushing air at the boy once.

“Stay.”

With that, Pahana waddled back into the kitchen and rummaged a little through the refrigerator, which he kept food in despite the fact that the cold had stopped long ago, and found one of his baggies of dried strips of meat. There had been a word for it, when his parents were around… Pahana had forgotten it now, but even without a name, it tasted good. They had taught him how to dry food just before they had died… At least they had clung to life long enough to ensure that Pahana could take care of himself. Somewhat. Enough to stay alive, at least.

And enough to keep an injured stranger alive, he hoped, as made his way back into the living room and thrust the bag of jerky towards Adam, waiting for him to take it.

“Food… Eat.”

Sprains… Adam knew there wasn’t much that could be done for them besides keeping off of them. He tried to remember his aunt’s practical knowledge as a nurse. RICE, right? Rest… ice, but he doubted that there would be any here… compression? They could do that, if the ape had any spare material. And elevation. If he was remembering right. He hoped to god he was. “Um,” he said, and swallowed before he spoke again, finding his confidence, “Something to wrap it in… fabric, strips of it. And something to raise it up.” As he spoke, he made gestures to accompany the words. He wasn’t sure just how much this ape knew in terms of language. Obviously far more than Adam would have guessed before ever meeting him. The ape… Adam felt foolish for having not asked before now. He’d had to think about the ape in terms like that. If he spoke, why wouldn’t he have a name? “Do you have a name? Mine is Adam.”

Wrap it, strips of material, raise it up… Pahana could manage that. The gorilla grunted to himself and turned away to retrieve what remained of his father’s first aid kit from one of the kitchen cabinets, and a chair from the dining table. That ought to cover it. He returned to the boy on the couch and pushed the chair close enough to be within reach of his foot and went to work, first by lifting his leg up with a gentle nudge of his knuckles and placing it atop the chair, and then by removing his shoe, careful to touch his ankle as little as possible.

It was as he was unlatching the first aid kit that the boy – Adam – spoke, prompting the gorilla to make eye contact again with raised brows. His name? No other person had asked for his name. His family had known it already. Thankfully he knew how to say it! Sortof. The ape stopped his work for a moment and patted a hand to his own chest.

“Pa…ha…na.”

It was how his mother had taught him – slowly, each syllable separate. Pahana had still been a child when his family passed away and their teachings had stopped abruptly, which left him with only some knowledge of how things worked. Saying his name properly wasn’t one of them.

A soft smile spread across his lips for a moment as he gazed at Adam, pleased with how this was going. Adam had told Pahana his name, and asked for his in return. That was good. Mother had taught him that was how you made friends… And Pahana desperately wanted one.

Now in a much better mood, he returned to his task, wrapping the ankle with a surprisingly tender touch for one with such big, powerful hands and arms. The fabric he had found was long, brown, and a little stretchy – it even had clasps to hold itself in place, once he finished wrapping up Adam’s ankle. Maybe that was what it was for, specifically. Pahana didn’t know; he had never seen one used before.

The feeling of so much fur beneath his touch was unfamiliar to Adam and as a result he almost recoiled from it. It didn’t feel right, but he couldn’t risk falling, so he clung instead to the ape and the offered support, keeping all the weight he could off of the injured ankle. He was going to be out of commission for awhile if the sharp pain every time he accidentally did put a little pressure on it was any indication, and that was not good. This entire situation was not good. Adam bit his lip hard when the ape leaned him against the tree, and he took great care to balance between the trunk and his one unharmed foot, the other not quite touching the ground. It wasn’t as if Adam could argue with the beast so he nodded along. He couldn’t fight or flee, and honestly he was kindof tired of it, of trying to find shelter from the elements and catching or identifying food. If there was a bed or a couch in that building he could sleep on, he’d give almost anything for it. He definitely could manage to not take things or hurt the ape… who was far larger than him anyways. He’d be stupid to try. Adam leaned into the ape, the offered hand, and found himself entering a human dwelling for the first time in… weeks. It smelled old and a bit musty, but the walls were solid and the floor even and there was furniture, there was furniture. A piece of which he was understandably lowered onto, a deep sigh leaving him. Relief…

Well, now what? Pahana asked himself, puzzling, looking at the boy on his couch after he locked the door behind them. The first time another person had been in this home in… too long. Pahana wasn’t the best at counting and he had lost track of time long ago. In fact, he tried to avoid thinking about that as much as possible. At least now, for however long it lasted, he had company. Not a friend, but still a person he could speak to and share space with. He wasn’t alone anymore.

The white ape turned his attention to the boy’s ankle, deciding that it was the most pressing matter. But staring at it, its swelling and the deep indent where the snare had caught it, wasn’t going to give him answers no matter how much he wanted it to. Pahana released a heavy sigh through slightly parted lips and turned his eyes back to the boy’s, meeting his gaze nervously.

“How… help?”

He asked, indicating the injured ankle with a shrug of his shoulders and a sullen expression that made it quite obvious that Pahana was disappointed in himself for not having the answer to his own question. Hazel-blue eyes blinked as he watched the boy, hoping he wouldn’t be too harsh. Pahana had promised to help him, when he didn’t actually know how to do that. Was that the same as lying? But, hadn’t Pahana decided that those old rules didn’t matter anymore, even if it was? Then again, maybe this boy still followed those rules…

Watching the gorilla move made Adam feel even more anxious and with good reason. He didn’t know what the mass to height ratio was on one of them but he looked big and tall and solid. Not necessarily bigger than the gorillas that Adam had seen as a child at the zoo but then again, he’d been a child. He probably thought they were enormous because he’d been tiny and seeing them from a distance where it was hard to tell. In any case, there was muscle on that creature and Adam didn’t have much of any, and if he could accidentally crush a camera by stepping on it there was no way the ape could do so safely. In that way, his relief was twofold when he saw his camera in hands that far outsized his, being surprisingly gentle with the object that now seemed unspeakably fragile. When it was returned to his hands, Adam turned it over, examining the lense and all the exterior. A bit dirty for its tumble but no worse off than it had been in the past… Adam took great care in brushing the loose flecks of damp leaf and debris off of it and then opening his bag to stow it away, wrapped up in a thick sweatshirt so as to not suffer a similar fate once more. “Thank you,” he spoke gently if not necessarily quietly, looking at the ape but as seemed to be ever the case for him, not quite meeting the eyes of the individual he was speaking to. It felt wrong and uncomfortable and he didn’t know how exactly to do it, and he could only hope that it wasn’t going to bite him on the ass here. The way that the albino ape spoke and gestured was clear if nothing else, simple and to the point. Adam hesitated. He didn’t want to be in an enclosed space with anyone he didn’t know and an ape least of all, but what choice did he have? He might die there. He almost assuredly would out here… he gave a few nods in response, and then pushed a hand into the ground beneath him to try and shift up, a prospect heavily impeded by his ankle. If it didn’t turn an ugly shade of purple black he’d be shocked.

Being thanked brought great relief. This was the friendliest interaction Pahana had had with another person since things changed and his family had come to live in the woods. Maybe it was making him too hopeful, letting his guard down too much, but he was desperate.

Hazel-blue eyes kept careful watch on the boy as he attempted to stand, and determined that he would need help walking afterall. The gorilla snorted quietly through his nose and held out his hand, keeping a nervous eye on the boy. Pahana never would have expected a person to get caught in one of his snares… It was his fault that the boy was hurt like this. What if he was harboring hidden resentment? Had he realized, yet, that it had been Pahana’s trap that had caught him? If he didn’t put two and two together, it would work in Pahana’s favor. His parents had taught him that telling the truth was the right thing, but the world was different now, so maybe the rules had changed too.

When the boy did accept Pahana’s help, it still felt a little tense, but Pahana was bulkier than most people and the added weight of another person leaning on him didn’t cause him any trouble. Progress was slow, but luckily the snare that had caught him happened to be the one closest to Pahana’s cabin and so comparatively, they didn’t have far to go. All the better for the boy’s ankle. It would need rest in order to heal. Pahana knew how to treat some injuries with medicines and bandages, cold or hot compresses, but entanglement wounds were new to him. Obviously, he didn’t treat the injuries of the animals he caught.

When they arrived at the cabin, the sight of which brought a soft smile to Pahana’s lips, the gorilla braced the boy against a tree that could help support his weight and looked at him again. Eyes flicked up and down the boy’s body and his expression went stern and serious.

“You no… hurt me… I no… hurt… you.”

The ape grunted after he finished the sentence and extracted a set of keys from his pocket, which he fumbled with a little due to his oversized hands, but he managed to unlock the door with relative practiced ease despite that. He turned to the boy again, still firm.

“This… mine. My… things… inside. You… no take.”

Adam caught the inside of his cheek between his teeth and shoves his glasses up his nose with a finger, like it might help him locate the object of his current focus. It wasn’t like a camera was anything like a natural object, so where could it have gone? If it had tumbled off into the underbrush though, it would be hidden and who knew if he’d be able to find it at all?

More questions though, more questions that made the young man want to just curl up a bit because he just wanted it and for his ankle to stop hurting, neither of which was particularly seeming all that possible right now. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, tight enough to see stars before he spoke with hands releasing the bag and coming up in front of his face as if holding the object and clicking the button.

“A camera,” he said, peering at the pale ape through his fake viewfinder, “For taking pictures.” It was such a dumb thing to care so much about, he knew that but he had so few things and it was one of the most important, it was part of his passion. If he’d been anywhere and anytime else, he would have been a photographer, he knew it. Instead he was a lost boy in the woods looking for a camera, hurt and afraid and in the company of a creature whose intent Adam could not discern.

Camera. Pahana knew what the boy meant, from both the word and the mimed action. He nodded to express his understanding, and cast a squinted glance around them. The forest’s vegetation was thick in this area, so it would take more than that to find a small-ish object. Being the more mobile of the two, the gorilla padded gingerly around the boy, parting plants with a sweeping motion that was gentle despite his size and strength. He didn’t question why a camera was so important to this person. Pahana understood that sometimes, simple objects could become precious treasures depending on circumstance. He felt the same way for some of the things that had belonged to his parents, that had survived the years since they had died. This boy seemed to be alone, so maybe he was in a similar position. If that was the case, Pahana was even more determined to find it.

It took a few moments of searching, but the gorilla eventually spotted the object he recognized to be for taking pictures. He picked it up, carefully, examining it closely as he walked back over to the boy, thick fingers brushing gently over the buttons and around the lense. It was different from the one that his family had used, back before everything changed, but still recognizable for what it was. Pahana wasn’t exactly an expert on cameras, but it didn’t look to be any worse for wear.

His curiosity satisfied, Pahana grunted to the boy and held the camera out to him, hoping the gesture would form some sortof beginnings of trust, or at least appreciation. He wanted to be in this person’s good books, maybe for selfish reasons, but he was willing to help him nonetheless.

“You… hurt. I… help. Have… house… in woods.”

The knife only served to incite further terror in Adam, but where flight had been his attempt before he now remained still, if shaking in the hands and jaw. The gun would have been immediate, if the gorilla was any good shot. A knife, that was a far slower and crueler fate if you didn’t have any idea what you were doing and with the beast approaching his legs, Adam knew that couldn’t be the case. He was going to die here, he was going to die because of that stupid camera that he just wanted to feel in his hands again so badly. He wanted the camera, and to have the space and time to check that the stuff in his bag was all still intact, but he wasn’t going to have that.

Just as Adam started to come to terms with his imminent demise however, the great white ape slipped the blade along his skin flat side down which summoned a hiss between clenched teeth and then twisted which drew forth a short yelp as for a moment the dull side dug into the tender flesh. But then the pressure from the twine was gone, and the great hairy shape was looking at him again with a face that was neither so human as to be comforting nor so inhuman as to be reassuringly not like him. The flared nostrils and heavy brow spoke to something not quite like him but in shape and placement there was a touch of familiarity that unnerved Adam a great deal, especially when paired with a voice that spoke real human words.

“I don’t know…” he responded because he had to and like an old fortuneteller game at a fair or arcade, when he was fed his currency – in this case, a scant few English words – he had to give something in return. It was a mechanical response. He would need to try and walk on it. He needed his camera, his things… the bag was in reach and Adam, realising this, grabbed it and dragged it onto his lap, clutching the nylon material close. For all its unpleasant texture, it was water resistant and that was a big deal to him. It kept his things safe… He cast his gaze around furtively however. He wasn’t going anywhere without that camera. It was the one he had more film for, the one he’d had longer and cared for so carefully all these years. He needed that.

Well… Pahana could carry him, if he couldn’t walk. He was pretty strong as far as people went, from what he could remember. Even as a child, Pahana had impressed his parents with his strength.

The boy seemed in no great hurry to try to walk, or stand for that matter. In fact, his attention was elsewhere entirely. Pahana wasn’t dumb; it was easy to tell when a person had dropped or lost something and was looking to find it. It made sense. The snare had almost certainly taken him by surprise and any supplies not in his bag had probably scattered. Just as long as it wasn’t a weapon that he planned to use against Pahana, who could have killed or left him but had chosen instead to help him, this was not an issue. But, given how other humans tended to react to Pahana…

“You… look for… something?”

He asked, trying to keep suspicion from his voice, although he could feel growing anxiety in his chest. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea. The sickness had driven even those not infected to turn on each other out of fear and that seemed the case every time Pahana found other people…

Still, loneliness had been eating away at the gorilla for years now. Here was an opportunity to have companionship that potentially, literally, couldn’t get away. He had no intention to hold this boy prisoner or anything that extreme, but if Pahana could enjoy the company of another while he healed…

Just so long as he wasn’t looking for something to hurt Pahana with.

“What… you lose?”

More questions though, more questions that made the young man want to just curl up a bit because he just wanted it and for his ankle to stop hurting, neither of which was particularly seeming all that possible right now. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, tight enough to see stars before he spoke with hands releasing the bag and coming up in front of his face as if holding the object and clicking the button.

Adam’s desperate fingers were slick with a cold sweat, and he could taste the bitterness of fear’s nauseous bite in the back of his throat as they slid against the thin rope. He couldn’t get a grip to save his life, quite literally. The fact that he could still hear his father’s words in his ears, getting infinitely more frustrated with his own frustration, didn’t help. It wasn’t even words, just a tone the man had never once used before the sickness and which became uncomfortably familiar afterwards. It made Adam want to squeeze his eyes shut and bite his nails into his palms and hide under a blanket he didn’t have anymore because it was far, far too much–

And then there was a rough, grunting voice that broke through. It froze Adam once more as the gun had for a split second. It was just him… and the gorilla.

Adam turned his eyes back to the creature, the beast. The barrel of a gun was no longer pointed at him, which was some bit of good, but it didn’t ease the tension of the moment. It seemed almost as if the forest were still around them; no wind seemed to rustle the leaves and the birds were silent. It was every bit a build up scene in a movie. The only thing missing was the low music which would reach the crescendo right before something happened. But this was real life and there were no such cues, just Adam’s voice a bit tight and forced.

“No, not… I’m not sick.”

The young man didn’t know where from here they could go or why the ape had a gun, why he stood so upright, why he was alone. Didn’t they travel in groups? There always seemed to be the screams of many in the distance, echoing in the shadows of the canopy above.

How was this ape even talking? The question didn’t even occur to Adam until a few moments after it should have. Apes didn’t talk. Animals didn’t talk. Humans did. But it was a voice nevertheless and in some way that was a comfort even if Adam’s heart was racing away from him, or so it seemed.

Not sick…

Pahana eyed him for a moment longer before cautiously stepping closer, reaching into the pocket of his ragged poncho for his knife. Well, his father’s knife. His now. The gorilla shook those thoughts away and shouldered his gun as he knelt down to get a closer look at the snare on the boy’s ankle. It wasn’t as deeply embedded as it would have been on a struggling animal, but it was apparent that he had fought with it. Not too much for Pahana, who paused long enough to give a cautious glance to the boy’s face, to slip the blade sideways between flesh and twine, so that he could twist the sharpened edge upward and cut the rope. The ankle was definitely swollen and looked painful, whether the boy would be able to walk on it or not was a question.

Another dilemma.

The gorilla straightened himself, closed the knife and returned it to his pocket. He could bring this boy back to his cabin until his ankle was healed, but that was a mighty big risk. Pahana could find himself in the deepest of troubles if this person wound up being unfriendly and had access to his hoard of scavenged weapons.

All the same, his kind heart cried out to him – you can’t just leave him here.

A bit of a sigh flared his nostrils, but mind made up – for better or worse – Pahana looked back to the boy, who looked so frightened and so pathetic, his face relaxing to as neutral an expression as a gorilla could manage.

“You… walk?”

The ape posed the question with a pointed look towards the boy’s ankle.

“Need… help? I… help you.”

Just as Adam started to come to terms with his imminent demise however, the great white ape slipped the blade along his skin flat side down which summoned a hiss between clenched teeth and then twisted which drew forth a short yelp as for a moment the dull side dug into the tender flesh. But then the pressure from the twine was gone, and the great hairy shape was looking at him again with a face that was neither so human as to be comforting nor so inhuman as to be reassuringly not like him. The flared nostrils and heavy brow spoke to something not quite like him but in shape and placement there was a touch of familiarity that unnerved Adam a great deal, especially when paired with a voice that spoke real human words.

Adam knew better now how his parents had protected him. He’d been only ten when the virus had hit, a skinny little scrap of a boy with big glasses and eyes that never quite stayed anywhere too long, and he had been disturbed by the way that they’d yanked him from school and driven out of Los Angeles, into the middle of nowhere, California, to an old family lodge. At the time, he’d screamed and cried and thrown himself down on the smooth wood floors that would become his new normal over the next nine half of his life.

It hadn’t been just them at first. His grandparents, the two still around, had found their way to the sturdy, well stocked building. An aunt, a couple cousins, and he felt sure others though he couldn’t quite remember their faces. They’d died soon after, already infected and sending always a wave of fear through those that remained. But perhaps by the grace of some cruel god, some of them had made it, immune or damn lucky.

Of course, there were still other illnesses. Infections, injuries, the simple complications of age, and then just the awful decisions made by some. His grandparents had passed away peacefully at least, sleeping. Two of his cousins had simply left in the night with a hastily scrawled note that Adam had never been allowed to read. He didn’t think about the others, how it had dwindled to just him, and his parents… and then his mother, and then just him.

At least he could survive some. Where in Los Angeles he’d been their precious Indigo Child, out in the forest his father had forced him to pay attention and learn certain skills until he could do it in his sleep and his mother had given him a dozen books that he’d read front to back only because eventually there were little choice. He knew, in theory, how to use the rifle carried empty and safety always on at the bottom of his duffle bag. He knew what was and wasn’t safe to eat, more or less, and the plant and mushroom identification guides took up a small fraction of space at the top of his bag for easy access.

Adam also damn well knew how to set up a trap, knew damn well how to spot one, and knew damn well that he was in this situation because he’d been playing with one of his two precious cameras while he walked.

The pain wasn’t too intense now, though every time he shifted the loop around his ankle tightened and the throb sharpened. It was sprained at least. Worse would be if it were fractured. That invited any number of possibilities, and when he had no home now to crawl back to… Despite himself and knowing he shouldn’t, he pulled at it, shifting a bit on the damp leaf-litter and gritting teeth. He’d scraped his palms too, and he’d been bruised here and there. At least his glasses had fallen off within reach and been quickly reinstated on his nose. The worst though, was that peering around between pulls, he couldn’t see his camera. He needed that. He needed to find it again and he needed out of the trap to do so and–

The air went out of him all at once.

A woman he’d met while scrounging through the abandoned homes of a small town had trained a gun on him until she’d seemed to realize he was barely a threat. He’d seen and heard the apes from a safe, hidden distance. There was mistaking shape or action when he looked up, and the colouring only seemed to further the intimidation factor possessed by the creature, bringing stop to Adam’s breathing. Panicked, understandably scared, Adam reached down towards his ankle and pulled at the loop which was too tight, cutting into his swelling skin. He was going to die, for real.

Pahana’s entire body flinched, meaty fingers tightening on his rifle, when the human moved so quickly – reaching for a weapon?

No, for his ankle.

Squinting, the gorilla chanced another step forward, only for his brows to raise as he lowered his weapon when he realized what had happened. Well, he had caught something in one of his traps. But certainly not something that he could eat.

This was a dilemma, wasn’t it? Pahana had a knife in his pocket that he could use to cut the boy free, but how would he know the intentions of this person until it was too late? Right now, all that he could detect from the other human was fear, but Pahana knew quite well that fear was a very dangerous thing in this strange, twisted world.

All of that was irrelevant if this boy was carrying the illness, of course. Pahana had a heart – perhaps too much of one given the state of the world, and the way other people reacted to him – but he would not risk his own health and well being for the sake of another. It would be a death sentence, and he was not ready to die.

“You… sick?”

And then there was a rough, grunting voice that broke through. It froze Adam once more as the gun had for a split second. It was just him… and the gorilla.

Adam turned his eyes back to the creature, the beast. The barrel of a gun was no longer pointed at him, which was some bit of good, but it didn't ease the tension of the moment. It seemed almost as if the forest were still around them; no wind seemed to rustle the leaves and the birds were silent. It was every bit a build up scene in a movie. The only thing missing was the low music which would reach the crescendo right before something happened. But this was real life and there were no such cues, just Adam's voice a bit tight and forced.

“No, not… I'm not sick.”

The young man didn't know where from here they could go or why the ape had a gun, why he stood so upright, why he was alone. Didn't they travel in groups? There always seemed to be the screams of many in the distance, echoing in the shadows of the canopy above.

Life on his own was difficult – lonely – but Pahana had adapted, as much as a person could. He had managed to take care of himself enough to stay alive and mostly well, having had to learn very quickly at too young an age. He liked to think that this had made him stronger, even if he didn’t always feel like he was. His mother and father had always told him that he was strong… Pahana was doing his best to believe that they were right.

The gorilla had become skilled at making snares, and determining which areas were game trails that would almost guarantee a trapped animal. It had ensured his survival, more or less. There weren’t enough eatable plants and berries around to sustain him afterall, and he had to save what he was able to grow as best he could. Pahana didn’t enjoy killing other living things for food – something about it just felt wrong to him and gave him a sick feeling in his stomach – but he had little choice.

It had been a day and a half since he had checked some of his snares, and usually this was long enough to assume that he had caught something. Pahana moved as quietly as a person of his size could, all too aware that his light colored skin and hair spooked animals long before he was close enough to make a move. It was why he had begun using snares in the first place. They felt cruel, but at least it filled his belly.

Thick hands gripped the pump action rifle that he was never caught without, just in case he ran into one of those nasty apes that sometimes crawled about the forest. He could hear something struggling in the general direction of his trap, and at first this perked his spirits, until Pahana got closer and realized that he could see that whatever was there was wearing clothes.

Brows raising in surprise, the gorilla pointed his gun cautiously at the creature and took few steps forward until he could get a better look. He had never seen an ape wearing clothes, but the painful reality was all too clear – not all humans were friendly. Even worse, some carried the virus…

It hadn't been just them at first. His grandparents, the two still around, had found their way to the sturdy, well stocked building. An aunt, a couple cousins, and he felt sure others though he couldn't quite remember their faces. They'd died soon after, already infected and sending always a wave of fear through those that remained. But perhaps by the grace of some cruel god, some of them had made it, immune or damn lucky.

Of course, there were still other illnesses. Infections, injuries, the simple complications of age, and then just the awful decisions made by some. His grandparents had passed away peacefully at least, sleeping. Two of his cousins had simply left in the night with a hastily scrawled note that Adam had never been allowed to read. He didn't think about the others, how it had dwindled to just him, and his parents… and then his mother, and then just him.

At least he could survive some. Where in Los Angeles he'd been their precious Indigo Child, out in the forest his father had forced him to pay attention and learn certain skills until he could do it in his sleep and his mother had given him a dozen books that he'd read front to back only because eventually there were little choice. He knew, in theory, how to use the rifle carried empty and safety always on at the bottom of his duffle bag. He knew what was and wasn't safe to eat, more or less, and the plant and mushroom identification guides took up a small fraction of space at the top of his bag for easy access.

Adam also damn well knew how to set up a trap, knew damn well how to spot one, and knew damn well that he was in this situation because he'd been playing with one of his two precious cameras while he walked.

The pain wasn't too intense now, though every time he shifted the loop around his ankle tightened and the throb sharpened. It was sprained at least. Worse would be if it were fractured. That invited any number of possibilities, and when he had no home now to crawl back to… Despite himself and knowing he shouldn't, he pulled at it, shifting a bit on the damp leaf-litter and gritting teeth. He'd scraped his palms too, and he'd been bruised here and there. At least his glasses had fallen off within reach and been quickly reinstated on his nose. The worst though, was that peering around between pulls, he couldn't see his camera. He needed that. He needed to find it again and he needed out of the trap to do so and–

The air went out of him all at once.