Death is Forever

black, uneven silhouette of the night horizon. More often than not, he chose to walk in dry watercourses despite the soft footing. In the dark, places where water had flowed were a lighter shade of black than the rest of the land and usually had less obstacles.
    They drank the last of their water in the small, nearly cool hours of night.
    By the time dawn exploded across the sky, Erin was stumbling from weariness. The land around them had changed a bit during the night. The hills tended to be steeper and separate rather than strung out in long, low ridges.
    Cole took advantage of the light to walk more quickly. He kept to a hard pace through the increasing heat until he found a place where thin-leafed trees shaded a ravine at the base of a hill. He stretched the survival blanket between two tree trunks and lashed it in place, creating a canopy to shade them as they slept.
    “Lie down in the shade,” he said. “Don’t move any more than absolutely necessary.”
    He dumped the rucksack on the ground for a pillow, grabbed the shovel, and walked out until he was in a place without shade. He dug a hole three feet wide by two feet deep and lined it with leaves he stripped from the acacias and gums. He put his large tin mess cup in the center of the hole, spread one of the plastic sheets over it, and anchored the sheet with rocks. He placed a rock in the center of the plastic, making it sag to a point over the cup.
    Without pausing he came back to the shelter, grabbed several more plastic sheets and went to work again. These sheets he wrapped around the ends of living tree branches, then carefully gathered the edges of each sheet until it made a bag with green, living leaves inside. He tied off the neck of each bag tightly and went back to the shelter’s welcome shade.
    Erin looked up as Cole sank to the ground beside her. “What are they?” she asked, gesturing toward the shiny, clear bags.
    “Stills. There’s a lot of moisture in leaves. We’ll let the sun work for us rather than against us for a change. Sleep.”
    She licked her lips, wondering how she could feel so dry when the air was so muggy. It was only a brief moment of curiosity. Sleep slammed down over her like a tropical sunset. Just as consciousness spun away, she felt Cole rubbing sunscreen into her skin. She tried to thank him, but the effort was too great.
    The next thing she knew, she was being shaken awake.
    “Erin. Wake up, honey. Breakfast is on the way.”
    The thought of food made her salivary glands contract painfully. She sat up and rubbed eyes that were gritty with dust and sleep.
    “Breakfast?” she asked.
    “You’ll have to work for it.”
    “How?”
    He pulled Erin to her feet. “See that?” he asked, pointing to a spot about fifteen feet away.
    “See what?”
    Then the snake moved, curling sinuously through the dry debris beneath a gum tree, hunting prey or simply a cooler place to rest.
    She made an odd sound. “Breakfast, huh?”
    “If we’re lucky.” He handed her a leafy branch as long as her arm. “Take this and keep him occupied while I circle around behind. Don’t stir him up, just hold his attention. He’ll be a lot harder to catch if he makes it to the rocks.”
    “Is the snake dangerous?” she asked as he started out from the shelter.
    “Only until I kill it. Then it’s food.”
    She shook off the last of her lethargy and walked out from the shelter to head off the snake. Though it was late afternoon, the sun beat down through the clouds with savage force. She rattled the leaves at the tip of the branch against the dusty ground. The snake turned toward the motion with a muscular twist of its body.
    “I’ve got its attention,” she said.
    The reptile watched her with eyes like flakes of black glass. The snake showed no nervousness at her presence. Mulgas were the undisputed lords of the outback. For them a human being was a novelty rather than a threat.
    “Don’t get too close,” he said.
    “Look who’s talking.”
    He didn’t answer. He just eased closer to the tail of the snake while Erin made small movements that kept the mulga’s attention fixed on her.
    Suddenly Cole’s hand shot out and fastened on the snake’s tail. He jerked his arm, snapping the mulga like a bullwhip, breaking its spine and killing it instantly. He gave the snake a final snap to be certain, then waited.
    Four feet of food hung limply from his hand.
    Swallowing dryly, Erin reminded herself that protein was protein was