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.”

he holds up a tin of food that he’s warming over the fire, “we’re not quite there yet. Plus, you have to boil acorns first, and that’s a

back into the woods. Alvin appears at my side, then, wordlessly

decided to make camp when he did. Our little family huddles around

up my spine then, telling me to look out into the woods

something else? Something else pricking 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 talk fades from my mind as I stare into the darkness over the top of

take shape out in the darkness – like

blink, it’s gone. And I realize that I’m looking

Ian asks, looking up

and realize that they’re all staring

I say, smiling around and shrugging. “I have an overactive imagination, which likes to

says, leaning forward eagerly. “Did you see

babies, we don’t need any ghost stories out here to

his dinner. “Well sure,” he says, “normally there’s no such thing as ghosts, but

Ian snaps, giving his brother a harsh look. Alvin’s eyes flash to Ian’s as he realizes his mistake. Alvin quickly shovels food into his

sit up straight, looking between my two boys at this interaction. What on earth

that he is likewise looking between the

Victor asks quietly. I can feel my heart start

saying anything. Just slowly