KC opened her eyes to a complete blur; she could barely make out the world around her. There was little she knew for certain. For one, she knew she was no longer in the water, as she could feel her feet dragging against the wet sand. Secondly, she knew she was not providing herself with mobility and she was in fact being dragged backwards through the ground. Looking at the ground below her, she realized that she was lying down, her head lifted barely above the ground.

“What the hell…” KC muttered to herself. She could hear someone breathing heavily as they pulled her in small segments, but they said nothing in response.

Her vision gained sharpness as she saw the densely packed trees closing in around her as she was dragged deeper into the forest. She tried to escape, but her muscles were no use to her. She looked down at her skin which was sun burnt to a crimson shade. She could not see her fire damaged leg, but she could sure feel it dragging against the ground.

After a few more minutes of walking, KC was set down beside a tree trunk. She watched as her captor, a well dressed man in a top hat, broke branches off trees and built a shelter around her motionless body. She watched him build the shelter, build the fire, nurse her leg, and cook some food; the intoxicating smells of the stew bringing KC back to life.

She lifted herself off the ground, rubbing her head. The well dressed man smiled upon seeing her.

“Alive! Blessed woman, you are alive!” He cried out.

“I don’t feel so alive.” KC said. The well dressed man laughed.

“Well I hope you’re feeling hungry, because I’ve got us some potato chowder steaming up right here.” The well dressed man said before scoffing at himself. “Silly me, I forgot to introduce myself, Emmanuel Stevenson IV.” He said holding out his hand. KC reluctantly shook his hand.

“Are you an angel?” She asked him. He laughed again.

“No miss, you are far from dead! I found you lying on the shore, half drowning in water.” He said casually, as if a simple misunderstanding.

“Not that kind of angel. Are you one of the angels?” She asked. He laughed once more.

“The Angels are only a myth, my dear woman.” He said.

“You’re wrong.” She said.

She proceeded to tell him her encounter with The Angels. She told about Jameson and the massacre on the boat. She told about the baby, which put Emmanuel into a state of shock.

“You’re…pregnant?” He asked carefully.

“Yes.” She said bluntly.

“Poor, poor girl… What are you to do when you go into labor?” He asked.

“I guess just pop the baby out and hope things go okay.” She said.

“It’s not that easy. Child birth can kill you. You need to prepare yourself. I knew a man from a few months back, he said he helped people, but he was just looking out for himself. He’s probably dead now and that’s because he never prepared for what was to come. He just sat idly by and ran when it caught up to him. Don’t be like him.” Emmanuel said.

“I’m not him. I don’t care if I live or die, I just need to make sure this baby is born.” KC said with all seriousness.

“You’d better care if you live or die, because that baby is going to need a mother.” He said.

She took a second to think about it. Gazing into a puddle of water she saw a short haired sun burnt face she no longer recognized as her own.

“What’s your name?” Emmanuel asked.

***

Emmanuel took it as his personal responsibility to help KC prepare for the child. They made camp in an old abandoned bus, decking it out with blankets and tapestries they had found in abandoned buildings. Inside they stripped the seats and replaced them with beds and a pantry.

Outside they built a small fire pit and a stove where they had their meals three times a day.

They would spend the morning gathering firewood and food, working on anything they possibly could. After a few months it became harder for KC to walk so Emmanuel took on most of the physical labor while KC resorted to cleaning and cooking – despite how much the smell of cooked meat nauseated her.

They spent the night eating dinner and swapping stories. It wasn’t an exciting routine but it was one that they would do for months to come. One night while spinning yarns around the fire, KC brought up the great philosophical question.

“What do you think there is to life?” She asked him. Emmanuel seemed unfazed by the question.

“To live, there’s not much else to it.” He said.

“What about the future?” She asked. “Do you just want to live in the moment? What happened to being prepared?”

“You don’t need to be reckless to live. Staying alive, making sure we’re fed and sleeping well and not dying, that’s all there is to life. So many of us strive for lives of great adventure and merit, when sometimes I think we should learn to appreciate the value in what we have and use that as a tool for success; whatever your own personal meaning of that is.” He said, taking a long swig of water.

“What greatness is there to be found here? This world has been ravaged by war and destruction to the point of desertion. Those living in America are constantly fighting to survive, and there is never a moment that goes by where I don’t worry about my own life. And this doesn’t even account for what’s going on in Beauland. It’s a disaster there, and we’ll never be able to fix it.” She said.

“Maybe not, but at least we can fix ourselves. You are carrying life with you; you are one who will keep mortality alive. We need to make sure things are as good for you as they can be before we worry about the greater good.” He said. There was a silence before KC chuckled.

“You know, maybe this baby, maybe they’re the greater good.” She said, smiling.

“Maybe,” Emmanuel said. “What will you name them?”

“Hmm…” KC thought to herself. “Katherine Jr. if it’s a girl, and Christian Jr. if it’s a guy.”

They both laughed.

Life was good for a while. KC’s stomach expanded, and as did the work put on by Emmanuel. They were feeding for three now, and Emmanuel tried his best. Sure, there were the cold, wet days where the food was low but those days became more seldom over time. They were livable, and as the time of her labor came closer they prepared more than ever. Emmanuel tried searching for ancient books about child care, and the only thing even close he found was a cover of an old magazine called ‘Vogue’.

They were excited, and they were terrified. Not a moment went past where the thought of the baby didn’t cross either of their minds. KC’s morning sickness and mood swings did not help either, and though Emmanuel could feel unappreciated at times he still stuck through.

Life could have been better, but it certainly could have been worse.

As the months flew by they found more time for leisure, and took to falling asleep earlier, replacing tales over the fire with walks through the wasteland. There was the occasional run around with raiders or rabid animals, but it was nothing that Emmanuel and KC couldn’t handle.

Despite his tacky clothing, KC liked Emmanuel. Not as a lover, but as a friend. Emmanuel was quite fond of KC as well, and took to feeling as a sort of father figure to her despite being three years younger.

Some days they would spend the afternoon lounging in the bus, Emmanuel and KC feeling her belly for kicks from the baby.

“Oh, children… The little devils, they are.” Emmanuel said smiling. KC laughed.

“Did you ever meet a child?” KC asked.

“Well, of course. I was one once.” He said laughing.

“No, I mean, out there, in the wasteland.” She said. Emmanuel’s smile faded.

“Not exactly…” He said. “But this one time I met this man, I think I’ve told you about him, but the first time we’d met I had found him in ruins. He had just escaped a nasty raider ambush, they… they killed a little girl. She was no older than fourteen.”

Emmanuel looked down at the ground. KC put her hand on his shoulder.

“It’s a fucked up world.”

“You’ve got that right.” She said.