24
THE PIT
Pasha had flitting memories of the days between Anna walking away and waking up in a hole, lying on stones smeared in s**t.
He’d stumbled on for most of that first day, away from where Anna had half-fallen down the steep, switch-back path. At first, he didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of following like he always ended up doing. The way he always let her win. Spoiled, he’d thought. Since she was born, she’d been spoiled. He stopped as the yellow clouds grew black with night, wondering if he should turn back, but it was too late, and he knew it. He had no food nor water. If he doubled back, he wouldn’t survive past the intersection she’d left him at.
He found a hidden spot behind a boulder—a shallow hole big enough for him to curl up in. Out of view of the road, he’d t
