by Ryan Casey
Or maybe she was worried that customising this room would make it too permanent.
Mike knew the pains of making a place too permanent. It made you cling to it. Made you too attached to it.
But then… he was caught up in this place. He was attached to it.
He just wished Holly could show the faith in this place to allow herself to adapt, truly.
He looked at Holly as she sat there on the edge of her bed. Her hair had grown back a little, but she kept it short these days, maintaining it at a few inches. It was strange. She always used to grow her hair as long as possible. It felt like something had shifted in her. Like her hair reflected a part of her old-world personality, and the totally torn hair reflected her outside personality.
Was this the middle-ground?
“What happened with Kelsie?” Mike asked.
Holly looked up at him. He could tell from her eyes that she wasn’t happy with where this conversation was going. “Nothing.”
“Nothing?” Mike said. “She came to me and Alison outside. In tears. Says you hit her.”
Holly sighed and rolled her eyes. “It wasn’t like that.”
“Then what was it like?”
“I… She was just annoying me, that’s all.”
“She was annoying you, so you decide to hit her? She’s a little kid, for Christ’s sakes.”
“Yeah, well she should learn to stop being annoying. It’ll get her killed if this place f…”
She stopped, then. Mike knew why.
“If this place falls, huh?” he said.
“You know what I mean,” Holly said, turning away.
“What makes you think this place is going to fall?”
“I don’t think it’s going to fall. I just think we have to be ready. Just in case.”
“There’s ‘being ready’. That’s fine. But what you did to Kelsie… that’s more than ‘being ready’. That’s irrelevant to this place falling or not, Holly. So I want a straight answer. I want honesty. What’s wrong with you?”
She looked up at Mike, and he felt it, then. He saw it. That urge. That urge to open up. That urge to talk.
“You’ve been a closed book these last two months, Holly. Ever since we found each other. It feels like… it feels like there’s things you want to say. Things on your chest. And I’m your dad, Holly. If you want to speak to anyone, I’m here. You shouldn’t have to carry anything. Not alone.”
Holly’s face turned. Every now and then, in moments like these, her solidity and stubbornness slipped away, and he was reminded that there was still a late teen girl sitting opposite him.
She looked up at him again. Looked like she wanted to speak. Like she wanted to get something off her chest.
“Don’t act like I don’t know exactly what happened with Ian and Sofia’s son,” Mike said.
And then Holly’s face turned. She looked away. “It was an accident.”
“I know it was an accident. I believe you. Because you’re a good person, Holly. You wouldn’t kill someone like that without… without thinking you had to. You wouldn’t just—”
“Do you really think that? Really?”
It was the way she looked at Mike that made him wonder. The way she looked at him that made him question everything. Made him wonder exactly what she’d done out there; the things that kept her awake at night; that even Alison wouldn’t talk about.
“Don’t be so sure you know the person I became,” Holly said, lips quivering. “Don’t… don’t be so sure you even know who I am anymore. How can you be sure when—when even I’m not sure?”
She looked away. Rolled onto her bed. Closed her eyes.
And as Mike stood there by her side, he wanted to know what she’d been through. He wanted to see what she’d become, right inside her mind. He wanted to know just how much she’d changed, and whether he really didn’t know her anymore after all.
But in the end, he found himself just leaning to her side and putting a hand on her shoulder.
“Whatever you think you’re responsible for with Emma… whatever you think you could’ve done… you couldn’t, Holly. You just couldn’t. She knows you cared for her. She knows you were looking out for her. And maybe one day she’ll—”
“She’s dead,” Holly said. “Almost certainly. I could’ve done something about that if I’d gone out there sooner. I could’ve… I could’ve made things right. But now she’ll be dead. And I failed her. I failed…”
She didn’t finish her sentence. Mike wasn’t sure exactly where she was going with it. It felt like she was going to say she’d failed someone else—someone other than herself, or than Emma.
But in the end, he didn’t probe her.
In the end, he didn’t pry.
He just leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.
“She’ll be out there, somewhere,” he said.
Holly didn’t respond.
In the distance, a thunderstorm brewed.
Chapter Four
Emma opened her eyes, and she realised she was awake again.
Dreams. Awake. Not much different anymore. Every day different, but every day the same.
The things she’d seen.
The things she’d been through.
The things she’d been made to do.
All started with the torches.
All started with the lights.
All started with…
The sun was up. The sky was bright. But it felt dark. It always felt dark. Like the sunniest day couldn’t break through the clouds hanging over her.
Thick clouds.
Suffocating clouds.
Unstoppable clouds.
She could try breaking through them. Try thinking of how things used to be. How things were when Dad was around. How things were before he’d been killed. How things were with the groups after him, then being on her own.
Then how things were for that short time with Holly.
She thought about Holly. How much she’d felt like she had a connection with her. How much she thought she could be friends with her. She felt like Holly understood her pain. She felt like she understood what Emma had been through. She felt like there was a connection between them.
But Holly had gone. She’d gone after her dad. And Emma had gone to find her.
She’d just wanted to find her out there.
She’d just wanted to…
She stopped herself because she could taste tears. And tears were no good. Tears weren’t going to get her anywhere. She had to be strong. She had to be resilient.
Just like He told her.
Just like He taught her.
She had to be in touch with her base nature, just like the lessons had taught her, time and time again.
She looked around. Looked at the buildings. Looked at the trees in the distance. Then, out of nowhere, she heard it. The shout. The cry.
She was used to hearing people scream by now. Usually at the hands of her people, too. Or rather, the people she’d grown to be a part of.
She couldn’t complain. They looked after her. They kept her safe.
She should be GRATEFUL.
BE GRATEFUL.
That’s what they said.
Without them she’d be NOTHING.
So she shook her head, and with it, she shook away the memories. The memories of what had happened to her. The memories of what she’d been through.
The memories of the pain that had led to this point.
The lack of sleep.
The hours and hours and hours dreaming or not dreaming or dreaming or—
And she just focused on that cry, and she did what she knew she had to do.
She hunted.
She ran ahead of the group. Ran towards the scream. Ran into the building, up the stairs, closer and closer to the room.
And when she got there, she saw them.
A woman.
She was holding a young girl.
The girl in her arms was rotting and dead.
T
he stench of decay filled the room. The sound of flies buzzing around circled her mind. And it made Emma feel disgusted. Just for a second, she felt the acid build up in her throat, felt the disgust growing even stronger.
And the woman. She had to make a judgement. A snap judgement.
She was over thirty.
Which meant…
She thought about it. Thought about the morality of the situation.
And then she switched it off, just like that.
Just…
Like…
That—
She walked over to the woman and she put the knife to her neck and she stabbed her and she watched the blood pool out and she saw the shock and saw the surprise and heard her blubbering and struggling and trying to hold on to life even though she was already dead even though she was already…
Eyes fading.
Struggle slowing down.
A flicker of guilt. Just for a moment.
Then a memory of what the people had told her. A memory of what they had taught her.
Or rather, a memory of what they’d untaught her.
She whistled. Three times. As she perched over this woman, she watched the blood pool out, and she waited.
And as she waited, she felt something else kicking in.
Something else that disgusted her at first.
Something else that she wanted to fight against. Something she wanted to resist.
But something she couldn’t deny.
Something she’d been trained not to deny.
Amid all this darkness, Emma saw a light.
In the sickness of this situation, Emma felt…
Hunger.
She licked her lips.
She didn’t see a woman before her anymore.
She didn’t see a rotting child on top of her.
She saw meat.
Meat that was near a contaminant.
A contaminant that needed to be removed.
She pulled the dead kid away. Resisted those words in her mind screaming at her to stop this, to end this chaos, end this madness.
But then she knew what would happen if she did resist what her people wanted.
She would be BROKEN.
She wouldn’t be able to ACT anymore.
Because the people had rewired her brain circuits and her neural networks and all these things they’d told her and there was no way she would work outside of them anymore.
They’d changed her.
It was amazing how much someone could be changed when they were put through so much in such a short space of time.
And out there, the world would be different. The world would be impossible.
She wouldn’t know what to do.
And she needed them to survive.
She leaned down to the dead girl. Stroked a hand over her decaying skin, which the flies couldn’t get enough of.
Then she walked over to the woman she’d killed.
She felt even more sadness about her. Even more sympathy about her. And she wondered. She wondered if she was still hiding underneath. She wondered if she could make it on her own out there.
She wondered if she’d been sold a lie and bought into it, completely.
She wondered… and then she felt a hand on her shoulder.
She went stiff. Her heart raced. Fear filled her.
The memories.
His strength.
The things he’d made clear.
The things he’d taught her.
She looked up at him. Saw the way he looked down at her. Saw the way he smiled.
“It’s time,” he said.
And in that moment, Emma didn’t flinch.
In that moment, Emma turned her focus to the body of the dead woman.
In that moment, she didn’t see a dead body anymore.
In that moment, she saw food.
Chapter Five
Ian stared out over the wall, and if he closed his eyes and focused enough, he could picture himself back at the farm, back before the chaos, back when things were good.
It was late. Ian had always been an early to bed, early to rise kind of guy. Never was a night person, not really.
But since getting to the Safe Zone, as they were calling it, he’d struggled with his sleeping. He’d resisted it at first. Battled it. Tried to force himself to pass out, only to find himself lost in disturbing dreams, wishing he was still awake.
So he’d started taking a different approach. Instead of lying in bed battling with the idea of trying to sleep when he didn’t feel ready, he’d get up. Take a walk. Get some fresh air.
He’d usually pass out somewhere unexpected. Somewhere different every night.
But Sofia understood. She knew how it was, bless her.
And things were good. Things were looking positive. Optimistic.
He just wished Tommy was here to enjoy this place with them.
He felt the cool breeze brushing against his skin. It reminded him of winter. Winter was a memory he didn’t want to dwell in too much. After all, winter was the source of his misery. Winter was the season he would look back on as the time things really began to collapse; to fall apart.
Because sure. The world had started falling months before.
But losing Tommy was the real moment Ian and Sofia’s lives lurched into sorry depths.
He looked around from the top of the wall. He looked at the fields. Looked at the villages. Every once in a while, he saw lights in the distance. Candlelight, or firelight, or perhaps sometimes torchlight.
But they were nothing to worry about. They were safe in here.
They had the upper ground. They had the advantage of numbers.
They had the odds on their side.
At least he hoped.
He took a deep breath of that cool air. It was a while since he’d been outside, beyond the walls. They sent groups out there from time to time. Scouting groups. Hunting groups. But Ian had taken on different responsibilities, back here in the Safe Zone.
He looked the other way. Looked at his camp. Listened to the silence as people slept in their beds; as they got on with their lives as if things were normal.
And maybe for some people, things were normal. Perhaps some people could get used to the way things were now.
But they hadn’t lost like he had.
“Struggling sleeping again?”
When Ian heard the voice, he thought it was Sofia at first.
But then he remembered what she was like. How she was the opposite to him—from a late-nighter to an early sleeper. And a late riser too, for that matter. Everyone had their own ways.
When he turned around, he saw it was Gina.
Gina was tall, ginger, and exuded calm. Which was strange, considering she and the people who used to know her insisted she was always the worrier of the group back in the day. It was remarkable how much this world could change people.
She walked over to Ian, Arya by her side. Arya was a gorgeous Siberian Husky. Ian had never really been a dog person, in all truth. But Arya was a dog he could get used to.
He looked away from Gina. Looked back at the surrounding landscape. “Me not sleeping is becoming a bit of a recurring theme.”
“Huh,” Gina said, walking to Ian’s side, shrugging her shoulders. “Sleep is overrated anyway. We were unconscious enough before we were born. And we’ll sleep plenty when we’re… Oh. Sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
Ian raised an eyebrow. “Mentions of death aren’t suddenly off the board because I’ve lost someone close. Don’t worry about it. Seriously.”
Gina half-smiled back.
She walked to Ian’s side. Stood beside him. This had happened a few times, now. They didn’t say much; didn’t speak a lot. There was bitterness there. Bitterness mostly because Ian knew Gina was one of Holly’s long-time friends.
And Holly… Well, let’s just say the Holly situation was even more difficult.
“How are you feeling about Sofia’s choice?” Gina asked.
> Ian shrugged. “Sofia’s choice? Sounds like a movie.”
“Seriously.”
Ian swallowed a lump in his throat. He didn’t want to think about Sofia’s decision to go out as a part of a scouting group tomorrow. He knew what sometimes happened to scouting groups. The dangers they ran into. The threats they faced.
And he’d wanted to fight her. He’d wanted to stop her.
But in the end, sometimes there were battles that just couldn’t be won.
“I guess… I guess I’ll manage. I’ll have to find a way to manage.”
“You’re a stronger person than I am,” Gina said.
“I wouldn’t be too sure about that.”
They were quiet. Quiet together, just for a while. And it was Ian who found himself breaking the silence.
“Don’t you ever wonder how your family are doing out there?” Ian asked.
He wasn’t sure where the words came from. Just that they spilled out. He was curious about Gina. Curious about where she’d come from. Curious about what had changed her.
And curious about what was keeping her here when so many people she used to care about were supposedly still out there.
Gina tilted her head. She looked like she was really pondering what Ian was saying. And then she took a deep breath, looked Ian right in the eye. “I guess… I guess in a way, my old life was holding me back. I know that sounds harsh to the people who—who care about me. But I know they’re strong enough to make it. Deep down, I know they’re strong enough to survive. But me… They never thought the same about me.”
“I’m sure that’s not—”
“No. It is true. They never thought the same about me, and I didn’t either. But now… now I have this place. Now I have these people. Now I have my confidence. Now I have my belief. And I think if I went back… if I went back to how things were, I’m not sure what it would do to me.”
She looked at Ian again then. Like she’d forgotten she was even talking. She flushed a little, embarrassment at opening up settling in.