“I am Oliver, and her name is Alicia.”
Even when addressed in Spanish, the two women didn’t answer. Not with words, at least. The younger woman — the daughter — left what she was doing and extended her hand to me. We shook. She did the same to Alicia and they shook. Then, with a curt nod, the woman went back to preparing the meal.
We stood shocked; unsure who the hell these people were and why they didn’t speak. They didn’t mind our presence, despite the guns, and they were clearly preparing a meal big enough for four.
They were the ones who made the entries in the book we’d found. Those pages were filled with a unique — almost numerical — language.
They didn’t speak to each other, and they didn’t speak to us. Yet, they seemed willing to take care of us.
• • •
“Found anything?” I asked Alicia after we spent the day searching the surrounding area.
The mother and daughter had let us roam freely as they prepared a feast for dinner. We managed to wash our clothes and ourselves; working together to clean wounds and regain our strength.
Now, it was time to eat as we took places at the kitchen counter. Alicia and I spoke as if our hosts weren’t there.
Alicia shrugged. “I found a compass and a flare gun.”
“I found a six-disc stereo and some albums from the 70s and 80s. Add the calendar from 2006, and we’ve got an idea how long this place was active.”
“Seems they were abandoned when the company left. But they still fill out those logs.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “They seem to make an entry once a month, but I don’t have a clue what they’re recording.”
We dug into our very vegan meal. It wasn’t the kind of food I’d typically enjoy, but we were starved. Seeing that we enjoyed it, the mother and daughter smiled. They appreciated our insatiable appetites, taking it as a compliment and offering more.
Later, they produced a bottle of wine. It was marked 2004, tasted foul, but took the edge off just a little.
As the night grew long, I looked deep into Alicia’s brown eyes — her cheeks having grown a little red from the wine. “Do you think we’re dead and all this is…”
“Heaven?”
“Or hell.”
Shaking her head, my protector and companion; my friend… She leaned forward and spoke with words that flowed easily from her lips. She’d abandoned formality and chosen tenderness as she said, “Since we’re together, it can’t be hell. No, sir… It can’t be that.”
I cleared my throat before downing the rest of my wine. She had a point.
We were alive and we had to keep fighting.
Eventually, the mother and daughter led us to the one bedroom. There was nothing but a narrow and ragged single bed, but they clearly wanted us to take it. We politely declined, having seen the couch they would have to sleep on if we accepted. But they insisted, and we yielded.
Removing any clothes that weren’t strictly necessary, Alicia and I didn’t make any fuss about sleeping in the same bed. I laid with my back to her, so nothing would make her uncomfortable. Though, I wondered if she’d ever done it… Whether she’d ever shared a bed with a man, or if she ever would have had it not been a matter of survival.