Speaker 1: Hey, this is Annie and Samantha.
Speaker 2: I'm welcome to Stefan never told you a production of iHeartRadio,
Speaker 2: and we're back with it's minty Fiction yay, which it
Speaker 2: feels like forever even though it's literally only been one month.
Speaker 2: But the last minty fiction was the finale of our
Speaker 2: previous ongoing spanty fiction, Terminus. This is the start of
Speaker 2: the sequel. I was pondering waiting and giving it some
Speaker 2: more time, but I just was like, you know what,
Speaker 2: let's keep going, go it all the way in, let's go. So, Yes,
Speaker 2: this is the sequel to Terminus. We are trying to
Speaker 2: do a playlist thing so that it makes it easier
Speaker 2: if you want to go back, I can just listen
Speaker 2: to all those episodes. We're trying to do it with
Speaker 2: a couple of installments, including your religion. Yes, so let
Speaker 2: us know if that's something you're interested in. I don't
Speaker 2: think it's too hard to search out those things, but
Speaker 2: if it's something we can make easier, we're happy.
Speaker 1: To do it.
Speaker 2: Yes, this is the sequel to Terminus. It will make
Speaker 2: a lot more sense if you go back and listen
Speaker 2: to all I think eighteen ish of th those but
Speaker 2: I can't tell you what to do. Also, congratulations to
Speaker 2: everyone who did Nano Ramo national novel writing Monks, or
Speaker 2: didn't or tried.
Speaker 1: I'm with you, my people who tried, I got it.
Speaker 2: I got you because the first one was my first
Speaker 2: attempt at Nana Ramo successful attempt. I'll say this was
Speaker 2: my second one, and then there is a third. This
Speaker 2: is a trilogy, but this is once a month thing.
Speaker 2: If it's not your thing, it is continuing. I did
Speaker 2: want to ask you this, Samantha. Have you ever had
Speaker 2: the deeply terrifying moment of losing an entire document on
Speaker 2: your computer?
Speaker 1: Oh? Yes, oh terrible. But you know I come from
Speaker 1: like pre internet, so.
Speaker 2: Of course, so I've When I was in college, I
Speaker 2: had my final paper got completely erased. To this day,
Speaker 2: I still don't know how. It just wasn't there and
Speaker 2: I had to rewrite it. And I actually think the
Speaker 2: second one I wrote it was better. It was on
Speaker 2: a completely different topic. Because I was like, never again,
Speaker 2: well I talk about that, but this I actually lost
Speaker 2: this first half of this entire document. Ooh yes, I
Speaker 2: was able to recreate some of it, but imagine the
Speaker 2: heartbreak of trying to write something during Nano Ramo and
Speaker 2: then losing the first half.
Speaker 1: About midway in. I would throw it.
Speaker 2: So this one, as always with these, I just I'm look,
Speaker 2: I'm gonna be real with you. I'm not gonna edit it.
Speaker 2: I'm not. I might edit some of it. I feel
Speaker 2: like atroduction, I feel like I'm making it sound like
Speaker 2: it's terrible. It's not. But I just I don't. I
Speaker 2: didn't edit the last one either, right, but this one
Speaker 2: I did. I was reminded of some heartbreak going back
Speaker 2: up looks like, oh yeah, I totally lost all of that. No,
Speaker 2: I don't think it's that noticeable. But you're a free
Speaker 2: to correct me if I'm wrong. Everybody everybody writes it
Speaker 2: that's okay. I think it's good. I think it's good.
Speaker 2: I'm sorry I'm building this up point too much. I
Speaker 2: just I had forgotten that that happened to me, Samantha
Speaker 2: until I was I'm sure.
Speaker 1: That was traumatic. Even remembering it as traumatic.
Speaker 2: It was really traumatic. This one is also called big
Speaker 2: things to a small because yeah, I'm a nerd for titles.
Speaker 2: As we've said, yeah, because he's.
Speaker 1: So little so being literal.
Speaker 2: It's both. It's both. That's what makes it good, so
Speaker 2: all right, content warning for discussion of hunger illness disease,
Speaker 2: being cold and miserable once again. The last of us
Speaker 2: had not come out at this point. I'm kind of like,
Speaker 2: I'm amazed at some of.
Speaker 1: The Yeah you were a for thinker.
Speaker 2: Well, something was going on. I don't know what it was,
Speaker 2: So very quick recap again, please, I think it will
Speaker 2: make more sense if you listen to the first installment.
Speaker 2: But quick recap. There is an illness called HSV five
Speaker 2: that has wiped out much of the human population. It
Speaker 2: makes it so that people who can get pregnant can't
Speaker 2: after the first time having penis and vagina sex, and
Speaker 2: so if you don't get pregnant the first time, then
Speaker 2: that's it, and the population is slowly dwindling. We follow
Speaker 2: Tilda and her son Madison. Tilda got illegally pregnant outside
Speaker 2: of conception center because she was supposed to go to
Speaker 2: a conception center so they can monitor all that stuff.
Speaker 2: And she's been on the run with her son, Madison
Speaker 2: for seven years. She was a priority number one case
Speaker 2: and was never sure why she was trying to escape
Speaker 2: all these enforcers of the government. She met some allies
Speaker 2: along the way, she discovered there was a resistance, but
Speaker 2: they weren't quite what they thought she was. She learned
Speaker 2: there was not a cure, but there was a vaccine. However,
Speaker 2: the state, who is also kind of run by this
Speaker 2: religious organization, had destroyed all but one, so she her
Speaker 2: risk going into their headquarters to get the vaccine for
Speaker 2: her son, and it's she realizes that they are the
Speaker 2: paternal grandparents, and they have been saving the vaccine for
Speaker 2: him and him alone because they believe the human population
Speaker 2: is full of sin and should die, but not him.
Speaker 2: But yes, oh yes, But then it culminates. He does
Speaker 2: get the vaccine, Darla and the wife and this equation
Speaker 2: gets shot accidentally and presumably dies till the main character
Speaker 2: gets to their broadcast system that they used to send
Speaker 2: out their kind of this is how you should behave
Speaker 2: messages and tells them that there is a vaccine, tell
Speaker 2: broadcast that there is a vaccine and that they destroyed it,
Speaker 2: and then escapes into the night. And that's where the
Speaker 2: first one ends. So we're picking off kind of right
Speaker 2: after that, so let's get into it. It was cold.
Speaker 2: The air was heavy weighted with frostiness, as if tiny
Speaker 2: crystallized shards were suspended in the thick fog of cold,
Speaker 2: and every breath scratched and burned down the throat and
Speaker 2: contracted the muscles a steady refrain of flaring ice headaches.
Speaker 2: Tilda drew in breast slowly, carefully, fog popping out of
Speaker 2: her mouth in a slow stream of smoke as though
Speaker 2: she were smoking a cigarette. Tilda and herson Madison were
Speaker 2: trudging slowly, clumsily through a forest, Snow crunched beneath their feet,
Speaker 2: as it had for the last two days. Under the
Speaker 2: layer of snow was a mushy carpet of dead leaves,
Speaker 2: so that every step sunk and snow collected around their ankles.
Speaker 2: Icicles clung resolutely from barren branches in cool green pine needles,
Speaker 2: tinkling like bells, with sudden, gentle breezes that preceded brutal,
Speaker 2: swirling gust of wind that pierced the skin and threatened
Speaker 2: to knock them off their feet. Alongside them was a creek,
Speaker 2: mostly frozen over. It occasionally gurgled and dripped, but for
Speaker 2: the most part the woods around them was eerily silent,
Speaker 2: except for the whailing and whistling of the wind, the
Speaker 2: bell like icicles, and the snapping of limbs. Overhead, the
Speaker 2: sky was a blanket of soft gray clouds that foretold
Speaker 2: of more snow to come. They had yet to see
Speaker 2: the sun since the snow first spell a few days ago,
Speaker 2: and the forest was in perpetual twilight. During the day.
Speaker 2: A desolate loneliness hung over them, so palpable that Tilda
Speaker 2: felt like a very unwelcome intruder. They were making their
Speaker 2: way south through a large national wildlife reserve in Virginia.
Speaker 2: They had strayed from the main roads in the most
Speaker 2: general sense of the word, in an effort to avoid
Speaker 2: any possible pursuit of violence in the wake of Tilda's broadcast.
Speaker 2: As they fled d c perhaps she was being overly cautious,
Speaker 2: but the sounds of chaos, the sight of tanks thundering
Speaker 2: toward Washington, rolling past her and Madison as though they
Speaker 2: were bugs that could be unknowingly smushed, unnerved her. Then
Speaker 2: came the sudden influx of people on the roads, some
Speaker 2: in dusty cars, put many on foot. A small army
Speaker 2: with slack faces, somehow still drawn and determined, suspicious eyes
Speaker 2: roving to Tilda's face, then to the rare breed of
Speaker 2: human a child at Tilda's side and snapping up to
Speaker 2: her again. Calculating wondering at the woman and her son
Speaker 2: heading in the opposite direction of the influx to d C,
Speaker 2: where a vaccine and some answers supposedly waited. Lumbering towards
Speaker 2: hope and revenge, Tilda opted for smaller roads, Overwhelmed and
Speaker 2: on edge at the sight of so many people, but
Speaker 2: even they proved to have cars speeding north, slowing down
Speaker 2: after they passed the pair of mother child. The tension
Speaker 2: eating at her muscles and churning in her stomach led
Speaker 2: Tilda to decide to abandon the roads altogether and continue
Speaker 2: their southward trek through the George Washington, Virginia State Park
Speaker 2: and Wildlife Refuge. They'd stopped at a few camp stores
Speaker 2: located near the entrance to restock on what supplies they could.
Speaker 2: Granola bars later discovered to be hard as rock, packets
Speaker 2: of nuts, trail mixes, protein bars, and an armful of
Speaker 2: tiny water bottles, all packed carefully away in a new
Speaker 2: waterproof camping backpack. She'd also grabbed them compact sleeping bags,
Speaker 2: a lighter, flashlights, and some batteries, a two man tent,
Speaker 2: some fleece pullovers, and waterproof parkas, warm camping clothes and shoes,
Speaker 2: though unfortunately she couldn't find any in Madison's size. Tilda
Speaker 2: had also picked up a decent sized knife. She told
Speaker 2: herself it was for hunting. The backpack was hefty, but
Speaker 2: not overly so. Most of the items she'd picked up
Speaker 2: were designed for her campers and meant to be light weight.
Speaker 2: The clothes were effective in keeping them warm and dry.
Speaker 2: She'd even found gloves and hats for them both, but
Speaker 2: after two days in the snow, the cold had seeped
Speaker 2: in and become a part of them. Tilda imagined ice
Speaker 2: collecting along her muscles, making her stiff, her blood sluggish.
Speaker 2: The damp chill was bone deep, her lips were numb,
Speaker 2: her nose and ears tingled, her cheeks burned, and she
Speaker 2: couldn't feel her toes or fingers no matter how she
Speaker 2: flexed them. When they first entered the park, they'd followed
Speaker 2: trails and markers passed for hikers and campers, but years
Speaker 2: without upkeep made it difficult to stay on track. She
Speaker 2: hadn't anticipated the snow, glistening white powder and ice obscuring
Speaker 2: whatever trails had been left. Tilda had taken to following
Speaker 2: the creek, which she had determined using what little she
Speaker 2: could glimpse of the sun, was flowing southward. Even with
Speaker 2: their new supplies, things were looking The cold had frozen
Speaker 2: most of the thought processes in her brain other than
Speaker 2: put one foot in front of the other, but she
Speaker 2: could feel a barely contained terror, like a gray shroud
Speaker 2: in her mind, in her heart. She was so scared
Speaker 2: for Madison. He'd been largely silent, huddled against her side
Speaker 2: and stumbling clumsily against her with his shuffling footsteps. Once
Speaker 2: the cold had seeped through their coats and their thermals,
Speaker 2: his body had been racked with shivers, but now only
Speaker 2: the occasional shudder overtook him. Tilda carried him off and on,
Speaker 2: but her cold body refused to cooperate. He stumbled against
Speaker 2: her again, swallowing her throat parched, Tilda rasped all right.
Speaker 2: Her eyes darted to the dead forest, searching for some
Speaker 2: kind of an end. Were they making their way out
Speaker 2: or were they only making their way deeper? In A
Speaker 2: mumble was Madison's response. She jiggled the tiny hand she
Speaker 2: held in hers muttered, it's cold, I know, baby. She
Speaker 2: glanced up at the sky, fretful at its mercy, tell
Speaker 2: me a story, okay about what He sounded somewhat annoyed
Speaker 2: at her request, but mostly exhausted. What's the warmest thing
Speaker 2: you can think of? Her lips chattered suddenly and stopped.
Speaker 2: A breeze swirled past them, whipping an icy lock of
Speaker 2: hair in her face. A moment's hesitation, the wind wailing
Speaker 2: in the distance, Mercury. Tilda gave a hoarse laugh of surprise.
Speaker 2: Madison did not acknowledge her amusement. Okay, tell me a
Speaker 2: story about Mercury. The boy sighed a very adult like
Speaker 2: sound and said, in a very clipped and rehearsed tone,
Speaker 2: it's the smallest planet, is closest to the sun, it's hot,
Speaker 2: and no one lives there. His voice sounded very thin
Speaker 2: and reedy as brittle. The dead tree branches snagging their
Speaker 2: coats somehow loud and fragile, and the dead quiet around them.
Speaker 2: That's not a story, Tilda chided him gently, those are facts.
Speaker 2: Heavy sigh. A smile twitched at Tilda's lips. Despite the situation,
Speaker 2: on the one hand, conserving energy was probably very wise,
Speaker 2: but on the other, on the other, taking his mind
Speaker 2: off the cold invading his body, the cold that would
Speaker 2: not relent, not yield, but only worsened as his step slowed,
Speaker 2: his resolve weakened, until the sun made its existence snow,
Speaker 2: and once again, that was worth it. She could almost
Speaker 2: feel Madison relent. To hear him thinking, She pictured his face,
Speaker 2: his brows furrowed, biting his lip as he often did
Speaker 2: when he was thinking. He started quietly. There was a
Speaker 2: boy who had a glass fall. He found it one
Speaker 2: day when he was out exploring, digging the dirt. It
Speaker 2: was glass, clear like crystal. But at night he was
Speaker 2: scared the dark. He didn't know what was out there,
Speaker 2: but he could sense it in the dark, something watching
Speaker 2: waiting tilt a slow, subconsciously, cold fingers dancing up her spine.
Speaker 2: Often these stories were fanciful products of a boy's imagination
Speaker 2: allowed to roam free, but just as often they were
Speaker 2: insights into Madison's state of mind. She was suddenly irrationally
Speaker 2: afraid of what he might say. Madison sniffled and swiped
Speaker 2: the back of his hand across his nose, continuing, he
Speaker 2: was alone and cold, so he got out his glass ball,
Speaker 2: and he held it in his hands, pretending he could
Speaker 2: see another world there, a warm one, bright and safe.
Speaker 2: At first, all he saw was was glass, not even
Speaker 2: his own reflection. But then a sort of orange and
Speaker 2: yellow smoke filled the glass ball, and the ball got
Speaker 2: warm in his hands. The light grew and grew and
Speaker 2: made a circle around him. Light and heat like a bubble,
Speaker 2: and it looks like mercury's surface. He trailed off with
Speaker 2: a breathy gasp, stumbling to his knees. Madison Gingerly Tilden
Speaker 2: knelt beside him, attempting unsuccessfully to pull him to his feet.
Speaker 2: Her heart was thumping wildly, sudden starts and stops, as
Speaker 2: the blood rushed to her head at the change position,
Speaker 2: pounding in her temple the sound, Madison asked, whispy and frail.
Speaker 2: Tilda's mind sluggishly wondered if he was hearing her heart beat,
Speaker 2: Her ice addled powers of concentration, finally coming to the
Speaker 2: conclusion that as ridiculous as impossible as it seemed, the
Speaker 2: sound was not her heart, but that of a horse's
Speaker 2: hoofs distant now but fast approaching. Her stomach plummeted with
Speaker 2: a chill that had nothing to do with them. As
Speaker 2: she struggled to her feet, pulling Madison up with her,
Speaker 2: she glanced around wildly as they greened haphazardly forward, knowing
Speaker 2: that the tracks they left in the snow would lead
Speaker 2: the rider straight to them. Desperate, Tilda steered them towards
Speaker 2: the creek. Gracing herself, she stepped through the ice, her
Speaker 2: boot sinking angle deep and freezing water. Creaking joints lifted
Speaker 2: Madison into her arms. Whencing and momentarily terrified she'd be
Speaker 2: unable to carry him, that her strength would give out,
Speaker 2: she followed the creek back the way they came, teetering
Speaker 2: with each frantic step. The hoofs grew louder quicker. As
Speaker 2: they reached a mossy rock face covered patches of ice,
Speaker 2: water from melted snow streaming in small rivulets down the side.
Speaker 2: Hang on, Tilda whispered shakily. With a gloved hand, she
Speaker 2: grasped a rock outcropping on the side and pulled herself up,
Speaker 2: the momentum from almost falling back, smacking her cheek against
Speaker 2: the rock, but helping her hoist her body against the
Speaker 2: slippery surface. Her foot big and clumsy with the boot
Speaker 2: on needed to be jammed with painful force to a
Speaker 2: small gap between the rocks, jolting her frozen toes. Pushing
Speaker 2: off the ground with her other foot, she reached with
Speaker 2: her other hand and gripped the edge of the slab
Speaker 2: of the rock. Her chest seized with effort, her lungs
Speaker 2: unable to draw breath as she heaved herself up. Black
Speaker 2: spots danced in her vision as she pulled herself and
Speaker 2: Madison over the edge, the fabric of their jackets scraping
Speaker 2: against the rock. She scooted backward on her butt, expecting
Speaker 2: to see the horse and its rider appear at any moment.
Speaker 2: The creek continued in an upward slope, ending in another
Speaker 2: cliff face, where a waterfall only beginning to melt, now
Speaker 2: covered the entrance to a tiny alcove with a sheet ice.
Speaker 2: Crawl in. Tilda instructed Madison, releasing him with jerky movements.
Speaker 2: Madison slithered under the sheet of ice where it had
Speaker 2: melted away on the lower left, kicking slippery, squeaking soles
Speaker 2: against the slicker rocks to propel himself underneath. Tilda followed
Speaker 2: his lead. The cold water like a shock against her back.
Speaker 2: They huddled in the dark, with their knees against their chest,
Speaker 2: their breath fogging with every short pant, loud and harsh.
Speaker 2: In the small cave they'd taken refuge in, their view
Speaker 2: of the outside was distorted through the ice. Sound muffled,
Speaker 2: and far away. A dark object came into view the horse.
Speaker 2: A man in a thick jacket with long, dark hair,
Speaker 2: rode astride it. The horse had slowed to a trot.
Speaker 2: Tilda could only assume the man had seen their tracks.
Speaker 2: Fumbling slow fingers reached for a knife, not believing as
Speaker 2: she reached for it that she could ever use it,
Speaker 2: not believing it would do any good, Madison whimpered, impressed
Speaker 2: himself closer to her. The horse whinnied, shuffling in the snow.
Speaker 2: The man called out, deep and commanding, but Tilda couldn't
Speaker 2: make out the words. A gray fog, much like the
Speaker 2: one that had surrounded them in the journey through these woods,
Speaker 2: was making her thoughts slow and disjointed. The man directed
Speaker 2: his horse forward, following their path out of sight. Had
Speaker 2: he followed them here? Had he been searching for them?
Speaker 2: They waited, watching through the glass, the wet from the
Speaker 2: rock walls and stones underneath them, making their already frigid
Speaker 2: bodies even colder. Tilda could make out the occasional sound
Speaker 2: enough to know that the man and his horse were
Speaker 2: still close by. If out of sight, Tilda could only
Speaker 2: hope he chose to follow the creek's south, the direction
Speaker 2: they'd been traveling all along, guessing that they would stay
Speaker 2: on their current trajectory. That he'd guess the pair of
Speaker 2: them would have been unable to climb up the rock face.
Speaker 2: Silence stretched on as Tilda's tension grew. The man called
Speaker 2: out again, and Madison jumped. Though she couldn't make out
Speaker 2: the words, she could tell by the intonation that it
Speaker 2: was a question what if he was calling for someone else,
Speaker 2: What if there were more of them? Madison had resumed shivering,
Speaker 2: bearing himself against Tilda's side in a desperate search for heat.
Speaker 2: Tilda flexed her fingers, willing some of the blood to
Speaker 2: flow back into them, willing herself to feel them again.
Speaker 2: The man's face came back into sight on the other
Speaker 2: side of the creek. It was disconcerting being able to
Speaker 2: see his face but not make out any of the
Speaker 2: features on it, not knowing where he was looking his
Speaker 2: head moved slowly from side to side, scanning, Tilda assumed
Speaker 2: for any trail to follow, a clue as to what
Speaker 2: direction they had gone. A particularly strong gust of wind
Speaker 2: swirled and kicked up snow and stripped some bark from trees,
Speaker 2: a muted screaming, forcing the man to shield his face
Speaker 2: with his arm. The horse neighed almost nervously, turning away
Speaker 2: from the blast of air. Tilda suddenly had the fleeting
Speaker 2: idea of attempting a surprise attack to secure the guy's
Speaker 2: horse and ride her and Madison to shelter, but dismissed
Speaker 2: it almost immediately after the wind had died down. The
Speaker 2: man lowered his arm cautiously. He gave another tentative look around,
Speaker 2: then coaxed his horse forward gently back the way they came.
Speaker 2: For what felt like a long time but was probably
Speaker 2: only a few minutes, Tilda stared through the distorted glass
Speaker 2: that was there world, her ears strained, trying to discern
Speaker 2: the sounds of hoofs or feet through the wailing of
Speaker 2: the wind. A sharp but weak intake of air by
Speaker 2: her side drew her attention to Madison. She looked down
Speaker 2: at her son, his mop of mousy brown hair almost
Speaker 2: black with water. His lips were blue. Come on, she murmured.
Speaker 2: She wriggled out on her back under the break in
Speaker 2: the ice. She held her hand, motioning for him to
Speaker 2: follow her. Til to frowned when he hesitated his movement slow.
Speaker 2: He crawled out on his stomach, his face deathly pale.
Speaker 2: His eyes had a plea in them. Here, darling. She
Speaker 2: grasped his hands, afraid her fingers would snap off as
Speaker 2: she curled them around his fingers, swallowing till to surveyed
Speaker 2: their surroundings, senses heightened with danger, hazel eyes darting from
Speaker 2: tree to tree. For now, they followed the creek's south,
Speaker 2: she decided, eyeing the hoof prints heading east. Warily, but
Speaker 2: they needed to find shelter her It started to flurry,
Speaker 2: so beautiful, fun even, but now so deadly. They climbed
Speaker 2: back down the rock face till to going first and
Speaker 2: then reaching her arms up for Madison. He tried to
Speaker 2: curl up in her arms, but failed and settled instead
Speaker 2: for just neztling into her neck till the side, stroking
Speaker 2: the back of his head, and resolved to carry him
Speaker 2: as long as her arms allowed. She rubbed his back,
Speaker 2: hoping to get some flood circulating, and helped him wrap
Speaker 2: his legs around her waist. She began her slow, hopeless journey,
Speaker 2: every step treacherous, the cold winter water threatening to soak
Speaker 2: through her boots. Her mind was too afraid to process
Speaker 2: any clear thoughts other than that they were in serious trouble,
Speaker 2: a burning fear that she was almost distant from because
Speaker 2: she was too cold to register it. As her foot
Speaker 2: punched a hole and the ice still covering most of
Speaker 2: the stream's surface, she tried to remember what it felt
Speaker 2: like to be warm, and couldn't. It felt foreign to
Speaker 2: her that could no longer exist, not for her, not
Speaker 2: for Madison. A branch snapped near them. She would have
Speaker 2: jumped if her muscles had the strength. Dear, Madison murmured
Speaker 2: in her ear, baby, dear, Sure enough to Tilda's left,
Speaker 2: a gangly, white spotted creature bounded off, clumsy and loud fawn.
Speaker 2: Tilda clarified. Madison repeated the word to her, sounding as
Speaker 2: one hypnotized. Tilda's sloughed towards with more determination, blinking snowflakes
Speaker 2: away from her eyelashes. For a long time, she continued
Speaker 2: most of her body shut down to anything else other
Speaker 2: than the next step. The snow continued to fall, a
Speaker 2: pottery frosting to the layer of icy slush, still blinketing
Speaker 2: the carpet of leaves, the wind whistled around them. Her
Speaker 2: eyes felt heavy. Are we going to die? Tilda blinked,
Speaker 2: thinking she'd imagined the whispered question in her ear. Eventually
Speaker 2: they found a cabin, dilapidated and barely standing, but like
Speaker 2: a beacon in the dark night. Tilda stumbled in, Madison
Speaker 2: still in her arms, checking, listening to see if anyone
Speaker 2: else was in there, but it was empty. She shut
Speaker 2: the door of the creek, grateful that all of the
Speaker 2: windows seemed intact, even if everything else seemed transact. And
Speaker 2: barely standing, slowly, she lowered Madison to the ground, the
Speaker 2: wind howling outside of the cabin. Tilda fumbled with the
Speaker 2: zipper of her pack, her hand alien and heavy. The
Speaker 2: water bottles were cold. She gripped two in her fingers,
Speaker 2: almost dropping them. She had to work slightly to twist
Speaker 2: off the cap. Tilda helped Madison into a sitting position
Speaker 2: and hand him the bottle, not transferring the weight until
Speaker 2: she was sure he had a good grasp on it.
Speaker 2: She watched, worried as he struggled to command his fingers.
Speaker 2: He brought the bottle to his lips slowly and took
Speaker 2: a clumsy sip that drippled down his chin, reflecting moonlight. Slowly,
Speaker 2: she reminded him when he sputtered, coughing as he tried
Speaker 2: to gulp too quickly. The bottle was already almost empty.
Speaker 2: Twisting off the cap of her own water, Tilda took
Speaker 2: a tentative sip, wincing when the cold water came into
Speaker 2: contact with her parched throat. She swallowed painfully, the liquid
Speaker 2: like a cold stone in her empty stomach. In silence,
Speaker 2: they drank. The thin, jagged shadows of tree branches projected
Speaker 2: on the cabin walls, changing as the clouds moved over
Speaker 2: the moon. Madison stared at his empty bottle. Tilda watched him,
Speaker 2: wondering what he was thinking. Still thirsty, Massen curled into
Speaker 2: the feet of position under the blanket that Tilda had
Speaker 2: pulled out. I'm okay, he murmured, but Tilda knew he
Speaker 2: was not cold. She prodded, grimacing around another mouthful of water.
Speaker 2: He nodded, It's not so bad now, Tilda wished she
Speaker 2: knew more about prolonged exposure to cold. That's good. She
Speaker 2: ran her hand through his hair and along his face.
Speaker 2: His skin was still quite cold. Any pain A long pause,
Speaker 2: Tilda stroked his arm. I think my bones hurt, my throat,
Speaker 2: my head, he halted, assessing how much to tell her
Speaker 2: fingers and toes. He turned his face up to hers.
Speaker 2: I'm okay, though, right, we're both okay, till since an
Speaker 2: undercurrent something else he was asking, what are you thinking?
Speaker 2: His eyes were searching overly bright in the moonlight. He
Speaker 2: shrugged with a quiet sigh. She gave him a tiny smile. Yeah,
Speaker 2: we're okay. It's just taking time for our bodies to
Speaker 2: warm up. We were so cold we lost some feeling
Speaker 2: in our hands, in our feet. She jiggled his foot,
Speaker 2: so now we can feel the pain in them. Another
Speaker 2: weighted moment settled over them, till the new Madison was debating,
Speaker 2: trying to find the for what he really wanted to ask,
Speaker 2: but instead he said okay. Tilda nearly sighed again, running
Speaker 2: fingers that still felt disconnected from her hand through his hair.
Speaker 2: She watched him, trying to discern what thoughts He was
Speaker 2: too afraid to voice. She could only guess it adds
Speaker 2: something to do with all the revelations of d C,
Speaker 2: why they'd been there and why they'd fled. It chased
Speaker 2: after them, A menacing shadow with such a presence, she
Speaker 2: often expected to turn around and see it, a dark
Speaker 2: creature with claws and jagged teeth, ready to devour them.
Speaker 2: But as ashamed as she was to admit it even
Speaker 2: to herself, she was too tired to summon the courage
Speaker 2: to have the long put off but necessary conversation. She'd
Speaker 2: found reason after reason not to have it. First, she
Speaker 2: needed time to process everything they'd learned and experienced herself.
Speaker 2: Then she needed to put distance between them and DC.
Speaker 2: Her last excuse, and most cowardly, was Madison hadn't asked.
Speaker 2: Madison turned away from her, Tilda remained sitting up, staring
Speaker 2: at his back, thinking about all that was left unsaid.
Speaker 2: She'd eased herself down and pulled the blanket around them,
Speaker 2: once more, promising herself they'd talk that they were fine,
Speaker 2: really and truly, But she honestly didn't know. That thought
Speaker 2: kept her awake for a long time, and that brings
Speaker 2: us to the end of this first installment. Of big
Speaker 2: things start small. I'll probably just call it terminus too
Speaker 2: to make it clear, but that's what it's really called.
Speaker 1: In my head.
Speaker 2: It is shorter than the first one, and the third
Speaker 2: one's even shorter than this one. But but I'm excited
Speaker 2: to share it with all of you, and I hope
Speaker 2: that you enjoy it. And I really do appreciate it
Speaker 2: when people write in whatever your thoughts are, our theories are,
Speaker 2: and if you have any if you have any stories,
Speaker 2: you want to share any Nanarima thoughts or anything we
Speaker 2: can read in the public domain that we could have
Speaker 2: sound effects and do something like this. We love doing
Speaker 2: this kind of stuff. We can't do it too often
Speaker 2: because it is a bigger thing for Christina, who is
Speaker 2: amazing and makes these happen.
Speaker 1: Yes, a lot of things on her plate.
Speaker 2: There are a lot of things on Christina's plate, but
Speaker 2: we do like to do them. So if you have
Speaker 2: any suggestions or something like that, please let us know.
Speaker 2: You can email us at stephaniea moms Stuff at iHeartMedia
Speaker 2: dot com. You can find us on Twitter at mom
Speaker 2: Stuff podcast, or on Instagram and TikTok at stuff. I
Speaker 2: never told you. We have a tea public store, and
Speaker 2: we have a book and an audiobook where you can
Speaker 2: get wherever you get those things. Thanks as always to
Speaker 2: our super producer Christina, our executive producer Maya, and our
Speaker 2: contributor Joey. Thank you and thanks to you feel listening.
Speaker 2: Step On Never Told Me is production by Heart Radio.
Speaker 2: For more podcasts on my heart Radio, you can check
Speaker 2: out the heart Radio app Apple Podcasts, or if you
Speaker 2: listen to your favorite shows,