I stretched my back and shoulders out as soon as I woke up. I think the thing I miss most before the blackout is my mattress topper. Also, soy based fake chicken buffalo patties that they would serve at her college, and of course, the buffet style dining hall. My feet ached, and I rubbed them; I miss the Amtrak.

I rubbed my face with my hands, I had to stop thinking about this, or I was going to go crazy. I turned over to Sam, who looked pale. When I further examined him, I noticed his shirt was clinging to his torso, and his forehead was drenched in sweat. I pressed the back of my hand against his forehead.

"He's burning up," I muttered. My voice was tight with worry.

Dr. Cooper knelt beside us and sighed, "It seems bad, we should try to keep him hydrated as best we can until he recovers."

"We don't have enough supplies," I said bitterly.

"We need to ask Elias for help," Dr. Cooper said hesitantly. Does he also get the creeps from that guy? The idea of having to rely on that guy makes my stomach turn, and skin crawled.

"Ugh," I said.

"Why don't you like that guy?" Dr. Cooper asked me.

"I'm not sure. Some gut feeling tells me not to trust him," I answered.

"I mean... trust your gut and all, but has he given you any other reason?" Dr. Cooper continued to press, "He just seems a bit odd to me, but I feel like anyone who would survive the apocalypse would have to be."

"Are you calling me weird?" I asked him, smirking.

"I'm calling us both weird." He smiled back at me. Our interaction was cut short by Sam groaning, and my stomach turned.

"Morgana?" Sam's eyes creaked open, and he looked at me, "You got to help me."

"I will, Sam. You're going to be okay," I grabbed his sweaty hand, and I held it between my own, "I'm going to talk to Elias and see what kind of supplies he has and then I'm going to be right back."

Sam's eyes shut again in acknowledgment. He knew I would take care of him like I always have.

"Make sure to keep him hydrated," I turned to Dr. Cooper before walking to the train station. My boots sloshed against the damp earth. The idea of relying on Elias made my skin crawl, but I would do anything for Sam. Anything. I made it to the train car that Elias was staying in, and I knocked on the door.

He quickly opened the door in his nightwear, which was just his bottom underwear and nothing else. I'm sure when he was younger, he was attractive, but I was interested in looking at a middle-aged man in long Johns. He looked at me and gave me a no teeth smile; his eyes were alight with interest.

"Hello, Morgana. What brings you here?" He asked me.

"Sam... he's sick." I crossed my arms over my chest. The autumn air is getting colder.

"Oh?" His head locked to the side with interest, "We don't have any medicine as of yet. Most of the things that were of value were taken immediately by people who were scared. I'm sure you remember toilet paper during Covid..."

I nodded.

"Try to keep him hydrated the best you can. I read somewhere before the apocalypse that most people died by dehydration," he chuckled before shutting the door. I turned around to leave, feeling annoyed with the situation.

We stayed for a few days longer. Sam's fever spiked higher, and I eventually helped people plant the garden boxes. It was honest work, and honestly, these people needed help from someone who knew what they were doing. After the time I worked, I would find Cooper tending to Sam. They didn't make him work to try to help him heal from his head injury, but he used the time to play nurse.

"I feel like he just keeps getting worse. He originally had just a fever, but recently, he's but shitting and throwing up hard. Do you think it's some kind of flu?" Dr. Cooper asked me.

"I'm not sure... maybe." I looked at Sam, and I frowned. He has been quite sick for days. I wish I could just take him to this hospital. I saw Cooper start to mix an electrolyte tablet that he found in that backpack he was carrying.

"These will come in handy," he said, slowly spooning Sam the purple favored concoction. He lips were spilt open and dry; random bits of dead skin stuck out between the grooves that were almost bleeding.

"It's crazy how fast he went downhill," I answered.

"Yeah, it's wild how things were before modern medicine," he said. He accidentally dropped some of the concoctions onto one of the wounds on his lips, which caused Sam to stir, "Sorry."

A young man, no older than twenty, peaked his head into the canp.

"Figured you might need more water," he said, passing over a metal milk jug. It made a sloosing sound as I accepted it into my hands.

I cracked open the lid, and it looked pretty clear, "Thank you."

He nodded and left the tent. I set the jug in the corner of the tent.

"We should keep him hydrated," I said, sitting in the corner of the tent staring down at Sam, "We can stay here as long as it takes him to get better."

"Hopefully, I will get better soon and be less of a burden on us," Dr. Cooper said. My brows furrowed.

"You're not all burden on us," I said, reaching out and touching him.

"I knew what you both were thinking when you first found me... I don't blame you." He looked away from me. I didn't really say anything; he wasn't wrong.

Elias peaked his head into our tent, "Hey, I brought a can of corned beef. You can boil it in some water and create a soup out of it.... it could be good for Sam."

I reached out and grabbed the can, "Thank you."

"I hope he gets better soon." he smiled before leaving the tent.

I looked at the can of corned beef and left the tent, trying to find something to cook such a meal in. I found a cast iron Dutch oven on one of the barrel fires that plopped the can of meat into the basin. It sizzled in the pan, and I poured and near the jug of water into it. He didn't give me exact measurements, so I guess-timated. Slowly, the corned beef created a broth, and it became very warm. I lifted up the metal handle and slowly brought it over to our tent.

"Here's some soup," I said, dropping the cooling apparatus into the middle of the tent.

"Oh boy," Dr. Cooper said, looking at the pot, "This will be good for Sam."

"I hope so," I said.

We shared a meal and talked about our previous lives more. Dr. Cooper told us about his husband; he was an artist, a painter. I listened intently to him. He talked about their wedding day, his experiences being gay decades before marriage was legalized, and his childhood; I never thought I would be this close to a teacher.

Eventually, the sum went down, and we went to bed. Our sleep was interrupted periodically by Sam throwing up or needing to go out to the bathroom. I cringed at the sound, but I tried to get a good night sleep through it regardless.

Today was another day.