Dissidence by Jamie Canosa

asleep on the ground beneath a dense canopy of leaves. Nothing changes , not the routine, not the scenery, not anything. We’re continually careful not to wait so long to seek out sources of water again, and with the help of the water bottles, it ceases to be an issue. The berries last for a while, and we find a few more bushes along the way to replenish our supplies. It’s not exactly a three course meal, but at least they keep the grumbling in our stomachs to a minimum.
    By the fifth—or is it the sixth— day I’m convinced we must have gone off course. The colonies don’t seem small enough to miss from the inside, but when compared to the vast open spaces between them , you start to realize how insignificant they really are. I’m worried we managed to walk right past colony D without ever seeing it.
    We’ve been at it for over seven hours already today, and my entire body is shaking. Rather than a lack of water, this time it’s caused by an excess. The wind was blowing in dark clouds when we set out this morning, and the air has gotten steadily cooler as we’ve walked. For t he past three hours or so, we’ ve trudged through a relentless downpour. I keep telling myself that it can’t last much longer without flooding the entire planet, and yet it continues to fall. If this keeps up, maybe we can turn some of these trees into an ark, and float our way to colony D. My clothes are saturated and sticking to me in uncomfortable places, my shoes slosh with every step I take, and my entire body feels about a million times heavier than usual.
    The wind is still whipping. Add th at to the icy cold rain, and I’ m completely frozen. My knees are stiff, and if I don’t keep flexing my fingers, they’re in danger of freezing up entirely into some kind of hooked claws. I’m shivering so hard I’m not sure how I’m still moving. Connor doesn’t appear to be fairing much better beside me. For a while early on he tried to shield me from som e of the rain, but after an hour, or so, it became apparent that nothing was going to help, and even he abandoned the effort.
    “Let’s call it a day, Girlie. There’s no reason to get sick. No need to push it.”
    He’s wrong. I do need to push it. I need to know we haven’t been walking all of this time for nothing. I need to assure myself that we’re still on the right track, and not co mpletely and utterly lost as I’ m beginning to fear. But he’s also right. It’s not worth getting sick over a few hours of foot time, especially out here on our own. I nod my agreement because I’m pretty sure my jaw is frozen shut, and we start looking for a place to spend the night. After a substantial hunt, we find a tree with foliage so thick it actually manages to block most of the rain like an enormous umbrella, and Connor parks himself against the trunk.
    “Come here. G et under here.” He grabs my arm, and tugs me down beside him.
    I pull my knees up to my chest and wrap my arms around them, trying to work out some of the frostbite in my extremities. Connor’s warm arm wraps around my shoulders, and I feel more than hear him laugh as he scoots closer to me. Up close , his muscles are even more defined through his sopping shirt.  His shoulders are broad, but solid, and corded muscles extend down his arms.  I guess that’s what happens when you spend all day every day swinging a pick for as long as he has. Pressed up against my side, his whole body is actually radiating heat. How does he manage that? I wonder if it feels like he’s hugging an icicle. 
    “You’re freezing.” His hands rub vigorously up and down my arms. Yep, definitely an icicle. “Why didn’t you say something?”
    His warmth is slowly seeping into my body, and making the urge to shut my eyes nearly impossible to fight.
    “I’m tired.” I slip the words out through an extended yawn.
    “Maybe you shouldn’t sleep just yet, Girlie. I’m not sure it’s good to sleep when you’re this