I took a tin of English breakfast tea from a cabinet and held it up for Gabe to see.

 

“Dude, today is Christmas.” I said.

 

Gabe looked bewildered for a moment, then laughed.

 

“No shit. Man, I totally forgot. Fuckin’ Christmas...” He shook his head and went back to feeding little sticks into the kindling. As the fire grew, he motioned toward a stack of firewood a few feet away.

 

“You feel like going out and cutting down some more wood today? Between what’s in the cabin and under the tarp out back, we’ve got about three days worth. Maybe more if we start sleeping down in the bunker.”

 

Gabe was referring to the underground survival shelter he hired a specialized construction company to install on the western side of the cabin. When Gabe first found out about the existence of the Reanimation Phage several years earlier, he had taken some precautions to protect himself in the event of a large-scale outbreak.

 

“Yeah, might as well.” I replied. “We’re gonna need it sooner or later, so we’d better get it done while the weather is tolerable.”

 

The underground shelter stayed a constant 60 degrees, even in winter. Most nights since we finished the perimeter fence, Gabe and I preferred to sleep above ground in the cabin. It gave us a sense of normalcy to see sunlight in the morning and not have to crawl out of a damn hole in the ground every day. Now that winter was upon us, we would have to sleep in the bunker to save fuel and energy. It was not yet cold enough to start freezing the undead, but they would definitely start slowing down as winter tightened its grip on the high country.

 

Soon the fire in the stove was burning brightly, and Gabe tossed a few larger pieces of wood onto it. He shut stove door and opened the air valve to keep the fire well fed with oxygen. A few minutes later, the water came to a boil and I poured it into a small teakettle to steep. I grabbed a tea strainer from a drawer beside the sink, and set it on the table next to the boiled meat and canned goods.

 

The cabin had warmed considerably, and Gabe and I were able to hang up our heavy winter coats before sitting down to breakfast. I poured the tea into a pair of metal cups and spooned some sugar into each one. The sugar was also a rare indulgence. I held my teacup in the air and gestured for Gabe to do the same. He held it up and I said, “To Christmas, and being alive to see it.”

 

“To Christmas.” He replied. We clinked our cups together and took a sip of the tea.

 

“Mmm, good lord, I forgot how good this stuff is.” I said.

 

“Tell you what,” Gabe replied, “come the spring thaw, before we set out for Colorado, we should shoot down the river over to Marion. There’s a little teashop there I used to visit every couple of months. I bet there’s still some left.”

 

“That’s just west of here right? About fifteen miles or so down the river?”

 

Gabe nodded, “That’s the one.”

 

“Might not be a bad idea.” I said as I took another sip from my cup.

 

It would be nice to have a good supply of tea before heading out to Colorado. The miles would be long and weary, and a little caffeine pick-me-up is always welcome on the trail.

 

We finished the meal in companionable silence. After eating the canned goods, we split up the boiled meat. Gabe lifted the pot to pour some of the broth into my empty teacup, but I stopped him.

 

“Nope, that’s all yours buddy. My Christmas present to you.”

 

Gabe smiled and chuckled. “Damn, now I gotta get you something.”

 

“Tell you what,” I said, pointing toward his pack, “you get that Sig we found this morning in working condition, and get those bullets cleaned up, and we’ll call it even.”

 

“Sounds like a deal.” He said.

 

Gabe poured the rest of the broth into his cup and sat back in his chair, savoring it in little sips. When boiled in clean water, the smoked venison makes a wonderfully flavorful broth. Most of the food we had been eating since winter had set in did not have very much flavor to it. Dried meat and canned vegetables will keep you alive, but without spices and salt to season them, they leave a lot to be desired as far as taste goes. Gabe had a few barrels of salt in the underground shelter, but we didn’t waste it on edible food.