How To Lose Weight And Survive The Apocalypse

Chapter 17

We didn't go far after leaving the dentist's. The silent suburbs on the city limits seemed more ominous that ever, so we biked out of there as quickly as our legs could take us. Following Dr Nguyen's advice, we found the back road and soon found ourselves surrounded by thick bush; it felt safer immediately.

The night caught up with us, then overtook us. Simon hollered out from the front of the convoy when he saw a twisted track leading into the bush, and we followed it to a small clearing, a round treeless circle in the middle of dark and scrubby trees. "This'll do," Simon declared, and we followed his lead and set up camp.

Our efficiency had improved; in less than half an hour, the tents went up, the fire was lit and we were settled in for the night. Exhausted but not sleepy, I had curled up against the backs of Bailey's legs, using them as support and watching as Bella menaced Chookie in her carrier and Simon taught Mischa how to scramble an egg.

Nev had disappeared into her tent, and a pang of guilt twanged inside me like a guitar string. She was my friend too, but Bailey was hurting more, and although I wasn't openly choosing sides, I had to give more to the person who needed it. Nev had an entire family system waiting for her; Bailey only had me.

My eyes continually flicked back to Rueben, who heated something in a saucepan over the coals. With steady hands, he poured the contents into a plastic bowl and approached me. "Potato and leek soup," he said, handing me the bowl.

I made a face and began to protest, but Bailey cut me off. "Karla, eat the freaking soup."

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not." Bailey turned me around, angst on their smooth face. "You haven't eaten in days, and don't think we don't notice. You got lucky today when you fell, but what about if that had happened near a cliff or a bridge? You could be killed. If you'd hit your head harder, you might have died from a brain injury, and there would have been nothing we could have done for you."

"Bailey... I'm sorry."

Bailey wiped their tears away angrily. "I can't lose anyone else, okay? You're my family. So as your sibling, I'm begging you to eat the soup."

Resigned and chastened, I lifted the bowl to my mouth, letting the aroma of the stock and the starchy spuds fill my nose. The first sip hit my tongue, and it was like eating for the first time. The creamy liquid rolled around my mouth as I crushed the slivers of leek and potato chunks, and when I swallowed, I could feel the heat travel all the way down my throat into my belly. I wanted not to love it, to be above such a primal instinct as food enjoyment, but I shivered in enjoyment, helpless to ignore how good it felt.

Bailey nodded in approval. "If you want to go on a health kick when we get to the farm, I'll do it with you. We can make our own bootcamp, eat rabbit food, push around tractor tyres, whatever. But time and place, Karla. Now is not the time to try and lose weight."

"Okay." I sipped the soup again, and watched as Bailey and Rueben shared an approving glance. Sitting between them, I didn't feel pressured or steamrolled into eating; I felt loved and supported. These two people meant more to me than almost anyone in the world, and if they said I was worthy enough to eat, I was starting to believe it.

When my bowl was empty, Rueben said, "Can I check your head again?"

I nodded, and he knelt beside me. His large, warm hands found my face and I only winced slightly as his fingers probed the bump on my forehead.

"I think it's okay. I want to keep you awake for an hour or so now, then you can rest. We'll need to check on you during the night – concussion protocol."