She suddenly awoke with an intake of breath, jerking her body upwards as if to flee some invisible detaining force. The night was silent around her, like a shroud thrown across everything in folds of heavy gray; the far trees faintly rustling with the brush of the wind against their branches alone broke it. Her breath exploded in shallow heaves, the chill of the damp air nipping at her skin.
The world beyond her little lean-to was veiled in darkness, the stars scattered across the sky like a cold, pale light. The night was endless, quiet in unnatural and oppressive ways, as if it were the calm before some unseen storm.
She reached for her flashlight; the coolness of the metal touched her fingers. With one click, a beam cut through the darkness, trembling as she moved it toward the river nearby. What met her gaze was shivers down the spine: before her lay a blood-red river shining with a threateningly shiny coat in the stark light.
Her stomach roiled as she saw the bloated, distorted bodies of humans float listlessly down the current, their faces grotesque and swollen. The faces were pale and contorted in terror and pain, the current sweeping them along some macabre parade. Where fish lay along the muddy banks, dry and cracking, their eyes glazing over in death, several having begun to rot, peeling in patches to reveal raw bone beneath.
Morbidly curious, survival-instinct-driven, she hunched down and picked up a long stick lying on the ground. She poked at one of the dead fish and watched as the slimy, decaying flesh gave way easily, releasing a putrid stench in the air that made her gag.
Before she could react further, a sudden shrill noise boomed through the air loud and shrill, as if tearing her skull apart. Her heart clattered against her ribs as the hauntingly familiar sound flashed upon her mind the scene of the airport-the unbearable screech that had almost unsettled her then.
She instinctively reached for her gun, her movements quick and precise, even in panic. She shot at the fish she had touched; the reverberation of the gunshot broke through the still of the night. The noise continued, however, growing louder, more invasive, like fingernails across a glassboard.
Panic gave way to desperation as her gaze flew to the bodies floating in the water. Firing upon each one with deliberation, she shot without mistake. One after another, the bullets found their mark as the river started erupting with little splashes from where bodies went under.
And as the last body disappeared, the rattling ceased, and the subsequent silence was almost deafening. She slumped, releasing a shaking breath, the tension in her body seeping out like water from a cracked vessel.
She approached the river cautiously and swept her flashlight over its surface. She reached for the tattered pelt she had and used it to scoop a small amount of water. Her hands were shaking as she peered into the liquid. Up close, it really was no different from blood diluted to its limits, the deep crimson swirling faintly beneath the light.
She snarled, flinging the pelt and water back into the river, her face a mask of disgust and frustration. She spun on her heel and started to walk briskly, her heart still racing in her chest.
A little way further on, she stopped to catch her breath and unfolded her map. Her eyes traced the red crosses marked across its surface, each one a grim reminder of her journey. With clenched teeth, she made herself forge ahead, the weight of her dwindling supplies leaning hard against her thoughts.
Every river she came to seemed to tell the same tale: of a blood-red water, bloated corpse, and rotting fish. Once, at one place, exhaustion made her sit down, her legs shaking while she reached into her pack for a scrap of food. She nibbled at it cautiously, sipping sparingly from her water flask as though every drop was sacred.
Soon after, she came to another river and lost her balance on the sudden new change: The water was so crystal clear at this bank because on top the sheen almost seemed to ripple in a delicate moonlight. For not four lengths past its fringed edges were heaps upon heaps of dead people, each bullet-riddled.
A flash light glow illuminated the glint of metal all about them-an array of fallen soldiers laid unmoving, guns tight in lifeless hands. She gulped hard as she went to one body hugging the ground, reached for it carefully, and took out whatever was inside his bag till her fingers touched something smooth and cold.
She reached inside her cloak and pulled out a small glass vial, which she held up to the light. Inside, one drop of translucent liquid glimmered faintly. She frowned, staring at it, her eyes darting from the vial to the river. Her breathing quickened as an idea began to take shape - wild and desperate.
A strained laugh escaped her lips, dry and hollow. She pocketed the vial and snatched a weapon from one of the soldiers. Its weight was grounding, real. She started off again without looking back, her mind racing as she followed the map to the final cross.
And then she saw it-the dramatically changed landscape a big stretch of a construction site in front of her, the long skeletal shadows cast pale by the dawn light.