Botanicaust

contrast to the fading light. What had he done? His disjointed memories reminded him of his first mid-winter cider festival; the hard cider had gone to his head, and he ended up singing naughty lyrics at the hymn-sing, giggling like he was twelve instead of eighteen.
    Only this new incident involved multiple layers of sin. First, he lay with a woman out of wedlock. Again. Second, the woman was an abomination.
    He looked at her profile cradled atop the gold robe. The smooth arc of her cheek, the dark lashes against her green cheek. The smell of their lovemaking lingered on his skin.
    “ God forgive me. ” He lifted his face to the mountains in the distance, unable to muster a better prayer. His head pounded, and his body ached from the hard ground. He reached for the water bottles and sipped. How long would this water last? Already he was dehydrated from the hiking, the sunburn and the … activity with Tula.
    He shook his head. Even though it was a sin, his body wanted more of her. He had to continue his journey. But what about Tula? He looked over his shoulder, longing taking hold at the sight of the curve of her rump. She was beautiful and alien all at once.
    He couldn ’ t desert her. Even if she was a temptress. Before waking her, he pulled the blanket around himself, leaves and all. “ Tula. ”
    No response.
    He leaned closer to her ear. “ Tula. ”
    Still no response.
    This time he shouted, but still she didn ’ t budge. If he hadn ’ t been able to see her chest rise and fall, he might have thought she was dead. “ Tula? ” He reached out and shook her, gently. The familiar warmth of her skin under his palm made him queasy.
    When she didn ’ t rouse, he bit his lip and frowned. Something was wrong. Shaking her harder, he rolled her onto her back. Her jaw was slack and she breathed slightly through her mouth.
    Why wouldn ’ t she wake? Perhaps he hadn ’ t been the only one affected by the strange loss of control. Had the Blattvolk drugged them from the air, hoping they would show themselves? The thought of blaming someone else for their actions eased his mind.
    But what about Tula? He couldn ’ t leave her here. No matter what happened between them, she ’ d saved his life. At an exorbitant cost to herself. He owed her an escort to a safe place.
    After easing the robe from beneath her head, he pulled the sleeves over her arms and tied the waist, trying to keep his eyes from her breasts.
    Heaving a great breath, he lifted her in his arms and headed north.

    The Reaches
    After two days of grueling travel they reached an outcropping. And God blessed them with an oasis of water and cattails for food. Even a muskrat den gave Levi hope for more than bugs and roots. But Tula remained unconscious.
    Two more days Levi watched over her, trickling water into her slack mouth every little while in hope some was getting into her system. Blisters dotted her jade skin in what Levi assumed was a sunburn and not some horrible disease. The thought of a plant person sunburning seemed odd, but it was his only explanation. To protect her, he built a shade tent out of cattails and kept her cool with leaf compresses.
    Still, she slept.
    This morning he woke, filled his water bottles, and gathered a few roots to resume his journey. He couldn ’ t stay here forever. Signs of abandoned cannibal camps dotted the waterside. The Blattvolk were looking for him. And he had to save Josef.
    Yet, he couldn ’ t leave Tula here unconscious. What if she never woke up? He didn ’ t think he could carry her and enough supplies to get to the next water source. The morning waxed into afternoon and he still hadn ’ t left, with or without her. He sat in the shade with his knees drawn up, looking out over the scraggly tamarisks surrounding the pool. The first few bits of cattail fluff drifted in the breeze; fall would be here soon. A turkey buzzard circled the sky in the distance, mimicking a Blattvolk aircraft. Or maybe it was the other way around. Perhaps tomorrow was a better day to leave.
    He waded out to catch water beetles for supper. Most of his days were spent searching for food for the journey, and he rationed what he found, even now. Today, a muskrat was caught in one of his traps, and he thanked God for keeping him here another day to find it. He gathered more of the pale leaves from the trees Tula had pointed to in the desert. The plant was only familiar to him as a weed they rooted out of the fields, but the leaves were