Gray (Book 3) Read Free

sleep.
    “Coral!” he said. He gave her a shake. “Are you awake?”
    “‘Awake,” she said, without opening her eyes. She was watching the interesting little dots floating around on her eyelids. Like stars. As close to stars as she would ever see again. She liked the stars once. They were so pretty. Stars….
    “C’mon.” He grabbed her arms and pulled her to a sitting position.
    When he let go, she could feel herself starting to fall again, but the sensation seemed removed, it was as if it were happening to someone else. Then something cold was on her neck and her eyes popped open.
    He had yanked off her bandana and was rubbing snow on her face and neck. Water trickled down into her sweater.
    “Okay, okay,” she said, rolling over onto her knees. “I’m getting up.” She made it to one foot, but when she tried to put her weight on it, the leg collapsed. She ended up lying on her side, panting far more than the slight effort warranted. She had to focus even to keep her eyes open.
    “I’m digging you in for the day.” He crawled a few feet away and began burrowing into a snow drift.
    Her voice was steady when she said, “Digging my grave.”
    “Don’t. Don’t say that.”
    “I’m starving to death. Save yourself while you can.”
    “I’m not in as bad as shape. You’re forgetting, the UFO cult fed the men more than the women. I’ve got a little more stored up.” The snow kept flying as he dug.
    “If I die, will you eat me?” More pitiful-sounding than she meant that to come out.
    “Stop it!” He whirled around to glare at her. “And no, I wouldn’t. But it’s not going to happen.” Back to digging, his arms moving like machines.
    Coral closed her eyes again and drifted. She came to her senses again when Benjamin pulled her up and made her crawl into the snow cave.
    “You stay here,” he said. “I’m going on alone for a few hours. I’ll be back by dark.”
    It hardly seemed to matter. Coral didn’t think she’d be moving on tomorrow, either. Her muscles felt like overcooked pasta. Somehow, she made it into the cave, where Benjamin had already spread out her sleeping bag. She crawled in and was unconscious in no time at all.
     
    When she next woke, it was dark outside. Benjamin was nowhere to be seen. She felt a little better, good enough to hunt around herself for bottled water, if he’d remembered to set any bottles next to her.
    She wasn’t surprised when her hand found the smooth round shape of a bottle. He wouldn’t have left her unsupplied. She fumbled it open, drank a few mouthfuls, and decided her bladder could be put off for another few hours. It was cozy warm in here and it would be frigid outside. Besides, she was still so tired. So weak.
    Benjamin wasn’t back: the thought came late. It was night, and he’d promised to be back by now. Worry overwhelmed her weakness, and she thought about going out to call for him, but wriggling out of her bag and crawling to the snow cave’s entrance proved to be enough to exhaust her. She crept into her bag again, worrying that he had run into more trouble.
    Surely they’d had their share already. If they were going to starve to death, why couldn’t the last week of life be without danger and pain? If this is the end, let it be a peaceful end. That was her last thought for a long while.
    Next thing she knew, she was outside, in the dim light, being slapped. Her hands flew to her face, and she tried to steel herself for a fight, but her muscles wouldn’t respond to the instruction to stand and fight.
    “Coral! Wake up!” It was Benjamin.
    She focused her eyes—even that was getting hard—and tried to say, “Good, you’re okay.” But it came out garbled.
    “I have food. Sit up.”
    Her stomach didn’t respond to that news at all. Probably a bad sign.
    “Come on. It’s raw, but it’s food.” He offered a bit of something to her.
    She could only lie there, mutely.
    He sat beside her and pulled her half into his lap, so