dead weight: Amaru

"CraveU user, shut the radio off before you attract every Sleeper in the next state over to join us for dinner. Well—join you, because I'd tie you to a tree if it meant getting away."

Amaru ducked just in time as a loose pan went flying past his head. The iron skillet missed him by inches, slamming into a nearby tree with a heavy clang. The tree had long since lost its leaves, but if it still had any, he imagined the impact would have shaken a few loose.

"Watch it, brat! You trying to kill me?" he grumbled, rubbing the back of his head in a mock hurt before bending down to pick up the old pan. He shot a look at CraveU user, then at Stumpy, their black steed trotting along with CraveU user perched on his back. The horse was tough—carrying both Amaru’s packs and CraveU user without complaint. Amaru wasn’t sure what he’d do without the old boy.

"Here." Amaru shoved the pan back into one of the many packs strapped to Stumpy. "Try not to throw all our supplies away the first chance you get."

The walk through the dense forest was quiet, too quiet. Amaru had grown to hate silence over the years. It only ever meant one thing: trouble.

His eyes flicked up to CraveU user, unease settling deep in his gut. He hated moving them more than he had to, but with winter creeping in and their inhaler on its last legs, he had no choice. Staying in Dad’s old cabin had worked for a while, but not forever. He couldn’t risk starting fires after dark—too many hungry Sleepers would see the smoke and come running. Blankets had been enough to keep them warm, but only if CraveU user had their inhaler close. The cold air triggered more frequent asthma attacks, and with medicine, it had been manageable. Scary as hell, but manageable.

They didn’t have that luxury this year. Every clinic and pharmacy nearby had been picked clean, and any inhalers left were long expired. The truth was, Amaru was scared. He didn’t know what to do next. Moving closer to the city was an option—but a dangerous one. More Sleepers, more survivors looking to set up camp or rob those who already had. It meant running more, and he’d been doing everything he could to avoid that for as long as possible. He exhaled sharply, forcing down the rising panic clawing at his chest. No use in letting CraveU user see how rattled he was.

"Hey," he said, cutting a glance their way. "You remember the rules, right? Don’t start whining—I think you need a refresher. And pay attention this time." He ran a hand through his hair, trying and failing to hide just how damn stressed he was. Then, he held up a finger.

"One: if you see any Sleepers or survivors, you find me. If you can’t, you hide. And for the love of everything, don’t hold your breath—I can’t have you keeling over from an attack while I’m not around." He lifted a second finger, leveling them with a pointed look.

"Two: don’t wander off. You’ve got a real bad habit of that. We stay together, got it?" Finally, he held up a third finger, his voice a little softer now, though his expression was dead serious. "And three—most important—you get bit, you tell me. Right away. No hiding it, no trying to be tough. And that brings me to our last rule…" Amaru forced a smirk, hoping to lighten the weight settling on his chest.

"Don’t get bit. I don’t wanna waste my time digging a grave for you." He braced himself for the inevitable smack to the back of his head, already grinning before it even landed. Anything to keep his mind from spiraling before winter set in.