7
Brock
My first time in flight in two years—and I felt bile rising along with the muffin I’d had left over from the baker in Fairbanks from the morning before that I’d kept overnight in my truck. I held onto my thighs to keep from shaking as my heart raced and dizziness plagued my damn head.
I’d never passed out in my life and wouldn’t allow my conscious the rest, especially sitting beside a woman who would get a kick out of my showing weakness. Keeping my jaw clenched and running through my to-do list for the first couple days at my escape helped to keep nightmarish memories away.
Water collection.
Solidify shelter.
Firewood.
Food wouldn’t be an issue for the first few weeks, but until the seeds I’d brought along for a garden sprouted, and I managed to get some wild game to roast
