You know what a spear is good for? Lots of things, especially one with a half foot long sharp, double-edged blade on the end made out of something that had to be a good equivalent to a modern knife steel. It could cut deeply into green branches, slice easily through the fat blades of grass almost as wide as two fingers, making finer strips. It could neatly shave off bits of dried wood for kindling. The haft was slightly rounded and was able to fit into a smooth divot in a rock with fine dry kindling and, with some rapid back and forth motions to spin the shaft while pressing down, it could make fire. Rather, the little bit of hot embers needed to start a fire. It only took three attempts before they got the fire going.

You know what a spear is not good for? Making a bunch of random joes good at spearing things. John nearly got his own foot trying to spear fish, plus he hit a rock and chipped the sharp tip off of the spear. Aaron cut his hand making the kindling shavings, trying to wield the awkwardly long shafted blade like a paring knife. Alan just sat on the thing so the blade was held upright and then passed the blades of grass Lucy and John wanted cut into finer stripes down over the edge, rather than move the edge towards the grass. In this way, combined with wrapping his fingers with grass as an added precaution, he didn’t get any cuts.

Aaron and John got a better trap going for the fish and they had an actual fire, though it took them all working together to get enough kindling together. They cooked almost a dozen good sized fish and they ate. It was fucking beautiful.

“This is fucking beautiful.” Alan grunted in agreement at Aaron’s blunt statement. They were still roughing it in the most crazy way and he was actually a little bit looking forward to Aaron’s too familiar snuggle as the night turned cold. Still, getting absolutely freaking full of unseasoned but fresh as all hell fish after you were so hungry was fucking beautiful. Plus they’d actually gained a little confidence in their ability to survive, at least for a bit.

Could they have done it if Purleo hadn’t given them the spear? The biscuits and jerky that got their blood sugar back up? Maybe. The fish trap didn’t actually rely on the spear at all, though the clear-headedness of having eaten helped a lot with that. Even so, they might have gotten it. Just like they might have gotten the fire started. Having the little boost though was a huge point in Purleo’s favor. They didn’t discuss what to do in regards to the Talor much. He didn’t think any of them were really considering deviating from the current plan. The departure had been fairly sudden, but there was a promise to return after one more day now. There had also been a warning not to go into the grassland.

Whatever Purleo had used to detect their presence probably only worked while they were in the grass. That the Talor didn’t want them detected was a little concerning to Alan, though he didn’t voice it just yet. It was bad juju to voice your anxieties to other just before they went to sleep, unless someone could do something about it. Dinner finished up, they buried some of the remains and threw the rest into the river, washed up as well as they could, dug little holes with rocks and branches and relieved themselves, then snuggled in as a group.

“We need to bathe tomorrow.” Lucy noted.

“Yeah, it smells a bit like a bunch of dirty, sweaty dudes are snuggled into a small space.” Everyone had a little chuckle. There were goodnights and cuddles and some jokes about the sausage fest, all good natured. Aaron tried to spoon Alan and Alan declared it was his turn to spoon and he was sticking to it.

Of course he woke up with Aaron’s ‘good morning’ poking insistently against his grass man-skirt. His mirt? Skmirt? With a sigh, Alan peeled off the strong and lightly hairy arm that was wrapped around him and crawled out into the damp, cool morning air. He really needed to use the little hole in the ground.

“Shit, I should pre-dig one the night before.” Grumbling, Alan dug at the damn leaf litter, doing his best to make sure he was far enough from camp and not digging in a ‘used’ spot either. He could hear the sounds of the others starting to get up too and shouted back that he was just using the ‘John’. Heh, John never thought that was funny, which is exactly why it was funny. After he’d vacated and buried the ‘restroom’, Alan went about helping with things. Namely, he started helping Lucy gathering firewood and sticks.

The firewood because they hadn’t found much the day before and it had been used up just cooking the fish. The sticks because he needed to build something. Namely, they were going to try and smoke a bunch of the fish tonight. The smoked fish should keep longer, days at least, so they could possibly travel. They wouldn’t have to worry about transporting water as long as they went along the river. So far, no sickness. Absentmindedly Alan knocked on a piece of the firewood he was carrying. No sense in testing your luck.

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The smoker was basically just going to be a lattice of smaller sticks that weren’t that good for burning. Green sticks were perfect and the smaller ones you could just rip off of the trees. These kinds of tears weren’t great for the trees, a much more vulnerable path for infection or parasites than a clean cut, but the spear was already looking pretty battered and they’d had it only half of a daylight period. The trees would survive a little abuse.

“Didn’t your parent’s have a bunch of fruit trees?” He looked at Lucy, wondering when that had come up in the past. He must’ve said something about it though, or she wouldn’t have asked the question. In the end, Alan didn’t talk a whole lot about his parent’s or growing up. If there was anyone he would be willing to talk about it to, it was his friends, the ones here with him.

“Yeah. They had a ten-acre property, part homestead, part bed and breakfast. Lots of fruit and nut trees. Dad didn’t like to plant anything that didn’t work as part of the ‘system’, so even if the plant didn’t make food directly, it needed to support making food in some way.” Alan grunted and snapped off another young branch, mostly last year’s growth. The new spring growth was only a couple of foot at the tips on the faster growing trees, but the last year’s growth in some cases was almost six feet. Perfect for making a big grid to smoke the fish on, or to hold that up well above the fire.

“I know they died when you were in school. Would you tell me what happened?” Damnit Lucy. Remember that shit hurt, you know? Mentally sighing, he reminded himself what he’d just thought. If there was anyone he could talk to about these kinds of things, it was his friends.

“Terrorist on their flight, set a bomb off in the cockpit or near enough. More than two hundred people died out in the middle of the country, my parents and my siblings included. They were flying out for the graduation, you know? To see me walk.” Even now, almost ten years later, the pain of the loss gripped him pretty hard, talking about it. His therapist had said that for most people, talking about it made you feel better in the long run. Damn if it didn’t hurt right now though.

“Alan… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you think about it.” Lucy looked at him with concern. Alan wiped at his eyes and shook his head.’

“It’s alright Lu. You guys are more family to me than any of my other relatives, by far. Almost as much as my brother and sister were and we were really close. Besides, I call dibs on getting the John spoon as repayment.” Lucy was smiling until the end, when she just made a face and stuck out a tongue at him. She shook her head and chuckled a little, looking introspective.

“How long ago did you figure it out?” He shrugged. They had been pretty obvious.

“You guys were pretty obvious.” She blushed a little and looked away.

“Aaron never seems to notice. Didn’t realize you really paid that much attention.” Alan grunted and snapped off another branch, adding it to the growing bundle. Lucy picked up a partially decayed limb and evaluated it for suitability for burning. “Then again, Aaron might just not think he should say anything. Maybe he’s respecting us being quiet on it. John thinks so, thinks he’s known the whole time.” He considered what she was saying. It was something he’d thought himself, before.

“Maybe. I wouldn’t be shocked. I noticed mostly because in the beginning I had the hots for you.” Lucy almost dropped the wood she was carrying in shock.

“What! No way! I was such a squishy little nerd! John and I didn’t even get ‘close’ until I was working out at the gym with him. Being around him all the time, I got to know a different side of him than he puts on normally, ya know?” Alan did know. They had all had their own glimpses into the inner world of John, though he confessed he didn’t really know what spun the gears in there. He wondered if Lucy did. Not really the conversation he wanted to have right now though.

“Lu, I’ve always been a not terribly fit, dorky guy. Even after Aaron and I got that laser eye surgery two-for-one deal a few years ago and chucked the glasses, I’m still the squishy nerd in the group. Hell, you all deal with people, I deal with algorithms that do 95% of my job for me so I can sit on my ass and read webcomics or web novels and shit all day and get paid for it.” He gestured with his free hand towards her. “You were like my fantasy, back then.” She blushed furiously and nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Hello? You met me? I’m willing to share quote on quote ‘embarrasing’ things, but not really willing to risk the emotional hurt. I probably never would have said anything.” They continued their task quietly, before heading back to camp with full arms. Before they got too close to camp, Lucy whispered.

“You know, John once suggested that we have a threesome with you.” Alan sucked spit down the wrong pipe and started coughing, dropping all the sticks he was holding onto his feet. Cursing at the scrapes on his feet and choking on his own spit, Alan struggled to come to terms with what his friend had just suggested. She was blushing, but also smirking at him.

“Shit. SHIT. Was that a joke?” Lucy shrugged, her smirk growing larger.

“Who’s to say?”

“Bitch.” Lucy laughed openly and left he behind to gather his bundle of sticks again, his face hot. From the coughing, obviously! Obviously.