Pregnant With Alpha’s Genius Twins

#Chapter 213 – Into the Woods

We walk for hours that day, until night starts to creep in on us. We’re lucky, actually, that it’s a mild February and that we’re not racked with cold. Still, despite the nip in the air, I feel the sweat pouring off me beneath my jacket.

This worries me for two reasons. One, because I’m almost sure that my sweat is a fever, rather than the reaction to the exercise. And two, because I’m sure that this will increase my dehydration, and our water levels are limited until we can find a fresh source.

“This will do,” Victor says, eyeing the darkening sky as we enter a clearing. I’m grateful, again, for his experience that knows what to look for in a good campsite instead of a bad one. To me, this looks just like the hundred other miniature little clearings that we’ve passed in the past few hours.

I nod to Victor, nearly exhausted, and start to unpack our bags to set up camp.

The boys, luckily, have none of our exhaustion. Instead, they’ve been flitting through the woods like songbirds, shouting their discoveries to each other and picking up fistfuls of interesting rocks and leaves that they want to add to their “collection.”

It was nearly an argument, an hour ago, when Ian found an “amazing” stick that he absolutely had to take with us but which he could barely carry. Luckily, Victor put his foot down on that one.

“How are you,” Victor asks, me, starting to stack sticks for a fire while I start to work on the tent.

“I am okay,” I say, giving him a smile. “And you?”

He shrugs, looking back at his work, and I know that he probably feels much the same as I do. One life force, after all. We’re probably sharing many of the same symptoms. I wonder, passingly, anxiously, what we’re going to feel like in the morning. Every day it seems like we wake up worse.

I take a moment to remind myself that even this is obviously better than watching Victor struggle to breathe in his hospital bed. I settle that memory in my mind and focus on gratitude instead of fear.

“Mama,” Ian says, running over to me a I finish popping up the tent. He holds out a handful of acorns. “I found these for dinner, do you think we can eat them?”

I laugh a little and nod towards his father. “Ask your dad – survival is his duty.” With that, I snap open one of the flat little bed rolls, working to get some fresh air into it. “I’m just here to make the beds.”

says, smiling at him. “They’re edible in a pinch but,” he holds up a tin of food that he’s warming over the fire, “we’re not quite there yet.

acorns back into the woods. Alvin appears at my side, then, wordlessly helping me take the bedrolls into

falls quickly on us, and I’m grateful Victor decided to make camp when he did. Our little family huddles around the fire, the boys and I looking anxiously around

its way up my spine then, telling me to look out into the woods expecting horrible things to

its little fingers against my skin, breathing on the

Navy when he had to camp out with his buddies, as part of training or missions. Their

out in the darkness – like a whisp of

I realize that I’m looking into

Ian asks,

at my family, then, and realize that they’re all staring at

mama giving herself the spooks,” I say, smiling around and shrugging. “I have an overactive imagination, which likes to tell me to imagine things that

what,” Alvin says, leaning forward eagerly. “Did you

head. “No, babies, we don’t need any ghost stories out here to scare me. Besides, there’s no

another bite of his dinner. “Well sure,” he says, “normally there’s no such thing

harsh look. Alvin’s eyes flash to Ian’s as he realizes his mistake. Alvin quickly

two boys

see that he

Alvin?” Victor asks quietly. I can feel my heart

anything. Just slowly chewing his food, pretending he can’t talk because his mouth is