We stop when I spot the tell-tale signs of shoots growing from the dirt. I bend to dig at my feet. Score, Tates! I sink to my knees and dig around, looking for more. These babies are amazing. They fill your belly up for hours and mixed with buds and meat, taste amazing.
"Want my help?" I look up at the man before me. Again, I find myself torn. This time between swiping his legs from under him or throwing a Tate at his head. He confuses me so much. "Those potatoes are big,” he tries again when I don’t respond.
I look down at the Tate in my hand. It's bigger than my palm. I could eat one whole and be full all night. Nodding, I keep digging. I find a sharp rock so I can stop using my bleeding fingers. The dirt’s dry and compact, but the rock makes the job easier. I ignore him, having nothing to say. He keeps trying though, so I tune him out. He bends down and starts to dig too but comes up empty every time. He'd be dead in a single day if it wasn't for me. Maybe.
By the time we reach the small shack on the edge of London, I'm about ready to strangle this guy. He talks incessantly, blabbering on about mundane things. I know he's attempting to start a conversation with me or even get to know me better with all his annoying questions, but I blank him out. He won't be around long enough to get to know me. I'm dropping him off back into the lap of luxury he grew up in, then, I'm a ghost. Gone. Invisible. Outta here.
Just as we enter the shack, Baby comes strolling towards us, something dead and delicious in his maw. He trots to me, ignoring our unwanted guest by pushing past him. Baby drops the rabbit next to the small fire pit and curls up on the pile of rags in the corner, his eyes never leaving Connor. I busy myself with preparing the evening meal.
"You build this place, Kay?" Connor asks while looking around the area I only use in emergencies. "Of course, you did. When we were kids you were always building forts out of scraps." He smiles at me and I curl my lip at him. I can't wait to be rid of him and return to my life of solitude.
"When was the last time you had company, Kayla?" I bend and rummage through a box of cooking implements in the corner of the room. My bowls and pans are made from battered metal sheets, bent and shaped by my own hands. I pick out a deep pan for the Tates and a flat one for the meat.
"Never." I put everything back into the box, looking over my shoulder at Connor as he just stands there. "Start the fire." I look him in the eye, my eyebrow raised in challenge. "You can light a fire, can't you, Connor?" I say, knowing full well he can start a fire. He’s irritating me, and I feel snarky. His mouth stretches in a thin line. Putting all the Tates in the deep pan, I head outside to wash them.
There’s a large tub to collect rainwater and I dip the pan in it to wash the Tates. I scrub the dirt off each one carefully; they don’t taste good with mud on them. Once they’re clean, I pour the dirty liquid onto the ground. Adding clean water from the smaller bucket next to me, I head back inside.
I place both pans on the grill over the fire Connor’s managed to build. Small but effective, it'll do. He disappears through the door and I allow myself to relax a little. Returning a few minutes later with an armful of sticks, Connor adds some to the fire. Despite growing up in the city, he could at least make a decent fire. I begin to skin the rabbit just as Connor finishes stoking the flames.
"I've never done that." My head snaps towards him, my mouth drops open in surprise. I guess I shouldn't be though, his dad is the president. I highly doubt they need to prepare their own food. He sits and watches me, flinching as I pull out the guts and place them in Baby's bowl. My dog… err... lion, lifts his head and sniffs the air. We eat together, always. Or never.
Soon the shack’s filled with the smell of our feast as I add the meat to the Tates. My mouth waters, my stomach growling and gurgling in anticipation. I sit on the bare floor and watch the flames, my mind wandering to times past.
Dancing to the beat, my fathers play on upturned barrels as my mother laughs in the lap of one of the visiting mercenaries. Killers for hire, they do the cities’ dirty work. Keeping the hands of the rich clean while eliminating those who dare cross them.
Playing coin flip with an errant Mover. My first kisses. Shared with a group of underground boys. My mother had encouraged me to choose boyfriends, but I wasn't interested. Boys were stupid. I'd rather explore the city than waste time with lads.
"Kayla." Pulled from my daydreams of happier times, I realise the pan’s started to boil over. I rise and take it from the grill to start preparing the bowls of food. Connor watches me, his eyes never leaving me as I move around the shack.
I hadn't wanted to start a relationship, especially with a Mover. Movers are how Hands ship their crops to the city and the underground. They use wheeled trucks pulled by strong men using straps. It’s a harsh job, but well compensated. They don't stay in the same place for long, meaning relationships are impossible. I still don't want anything to do with guys, least of all the guy whose eyes have yet to leave me since we arrived.
"Are you ok, Kayla?" Ignoring Connor, I pour the food into two bowls; the Tates and meat mixture is thick and cooked to perfection. I pass one of the bowls to Connor.
"Thanks," he says excitedly.
Baby pads closer and takes his place next to me as I sit on the rug in the middle of the space. Usually, I'd eat half the pan myself, keeping the rest in a plastic tub in my backpack. The one the aliens had stolen from me. I need to find another.
But now I have to share with this guy. I dig in using my hands to scoop up the edible heaven. Luckily, they’re relatively clean from washing the Tates. Connor watches me with open distaste.
"What the fuck now?" I growl. Man, this guy is annoying as fuck.
"Nothing. I'm sorry. It's just…" His eyes flick to my dirty fingers then to my food. I shrug, not caring that there’s dried blood and dirt under my nails.
"Ain't nobody got the spare water to keep their hands clean out here." He nods as if he understands, but clearly, he doesn't because he just looks down at his own hands and winces. Tentatively he dips two fingers in and licks them.
"Hmm, oh God. This is so fucking good," he says around a mouthful of chow. Not too bothered about using his hands anymore, he proceeds to scoop it up and shove it into his mouth, moaning around each bite. That's right bitch, chef extraordinaire out here in Panda land.
We eat in relative silence, which is bloody fine by me. The gluttonous sounds of Baby eating his rabbit innards are the only noises to be heard. Several times Connor seems like he wants to say something to me. His mismatched eyes flick to mine then his mouth opens and closes, but he says nothing. Looking closely at him, I notice the roots of his hair are lighter than the rest. Intriguing.
He catches me looking and I jump to my feet. Busted. I walk from the room. The cool night air soothes my soul as I fill my lungs.
If I were a Scrap, I'd be inhaling the Panda virus right now and then I'd be dead on the floor, soon to rise as one of them. No one’s immune from a bite though. If you're bitten, you're dead within forty-eight hours.
A hand touches my shoulder and I immediately grab it. Lifting it over my head I duck and twist the offending arm behind his back. With more force than necessary, I press Connor against the wooden door frame. "Quit touching me unannounced, Connor. You'll end up dead if you keep that up."
"I'm sorry," he grunts as I press his arm into his back a little harder. "I'm used to touching people! You looked like you needed comforting."
Comforting? Is he for real? "No thanks." With a final shove, I let him go.
"Shit." He stands there cradling his arm, rubbing the circulation back into the appendage. A smile on his handsome face like he didn't expect me to be able to do that.
He seems unable to actually get angry. There’s not a single sign he wants to retaliate on his features. Huh. Gotta test that out one day. No. Not much longer and I'll be free of this D-bag. Thank God he's the only one I've been lumbered with.
"I'm not the only one!" he blurts, spittle flying from his mouth and landing on my chest.
Ew. Say it, don't spray it, dickweed.
"There are two more." Connor throws his arms in the air.
"Two more… what?" I narrow my eyes at him, suspicion clear to see. Did I say that out loud? Losing my mind out here.
"Two more of us. Looking for you." He smiles triumphantly. Well shit. Spank my ass and call me Sally, there are another two motherfuckin’ assholes from Tri-City out here looking for little old me? Shucks, I'm flattered. Not.
"They won't last long. I'd bet my katana on them already being dead." He looks at me, his mouth open wide. Seriously, who sent this peach and two of his friends out here to die?
"We came of our own volition. To find you."
I baulk. His words make my legs turn to jelly. For me? I said that out loud then? Seriously losing my mind.
"Nope." His smile makes me want to kick his shin.
The fuck? Nah. He's pulling my leg. Has to be.
"I'm not pulling your leg, Kayla. I can read your mind. It's my gift."
Gift? Gift! I wouldn't necessarily call that a gift. But hey, who am I to judge if he's crazy? Because clearly, I’m crazy too.
"It's both a curse and a blessing." His words are so sarcastic I find myself giggling again. Damnit! Why am I laughing like an idiot around this guy?
"Listen, buddy. I don't know what game you're playing but I want no part of it, ya hear? If you think you can hear voices in your head… you've got issues." I roll my eyes, mind reader… Riiight. "Now, I'm tired from saving your arse all day. So, if you don't mind ..." I walk back into the small space I call home once in a while and lay down on the rags.
Motherfucker’s lost his mind. Although… he did answer what I'd said in my mind. Hmm. Maybe it's true? Fucking Panda are walking corpses, would mind reading be such a stretch?
I don't take my clothes and shoes off for sleeping because who undresses in the middle of nowhere when zombies roam the earth? Idiots. That's who.
I don't know how long he stays out there, but it's almost completely dark when Connor walks back in. Closing the door behind him, he pulls the wooden bar across the back, locking us in. He just stands there in the faint light, looking at me. Shit, does he want a medal or what? Ooh look at the big city boy being brave standing outside in the dark.
"Kayla."
"Sleep. Tomorrow we walk faster. Keep up. Or die." I roll over, effectively ending our little chat. Instead of taking the hint like a normal person would, he starts talking.
"I can read your mind, Kay. Fragments not full thoughts yet, that takes time. Bonds need to be built. Me and my brothers, Crowley and Charlie, we've been looking for you all our lives. See, it's not just me you used to know. But them too. We need you, Kayla. We…"
"Shut the fuck up, Connor. I'm not interested in your stories! I never knew any kids, let alone three. They're too rare. So put a sock in it and let me go to sleep!" My anger bubbles over, my voice getting louder as I speak. Three kids? He's having a laugh. Not a chance. The shack goes silent and I let my eyes close. Sleep comes quickly, but the peace I so craved doesn’t.
"Come catch me, pretty girl!"
"Yea, come catch us!"
"She's mine, Charlie!"
"No, she isn't!" Two boys in front of me start to fight. Tiny fists flying, short legs kicking.
"Simmer the fuck down, lads! Your mothers are trying to draw up the plans. Now, Kay Kay, tell the boys here that you like them all." One of my dads, Keith, looks at me, humour in his voice and a smirk on his face.
"Nope. I don't like boys! They're smelly!" I run away from them all, needing to be alone. What’s wrong with them? I run into a large sunny room, straight into the arms of my mother. Her long black hair shines in the sun, love radiating from her beautiful face.
"Hey, sweetie. What's wrong?"
"Con, Char and Crow are fighting again, Mummy. Why'd you gotta pick those three for?" My childish mind couldn't comprehend the reasons. I knew there were some, but I just didn't get the why.
"Sweet girl, you're all gifted. And together, you'll fix this world. Now, go bond with them, Kay. You'll be together forever."
My dream changes and suddenly I'm flying through the air. Pain spreads through my entire body as I land hard on the ground. A flash of light so bright it burns my eyes illuminates the world around me. Like blinking, the movie in my head changes once again. This time, a woman stands before me. The same woman I called Mummy.
"Kay, who am I?"
She points to herself, her face full of hope. Her eyes hold concern. My head hurts. I turn to look around the room. My dads gather around us, much younger than I remember them being, their faces full of fear. "I don't know." At my words, my mum bursts into tears and one of my dads takes her shoulders to lead her away. Another flash and I'm in Conner's arms.
"I know you don't remember me, Kay Kay, but I love you. I have to go away and I won't be coming back." His young body’s soft and warm against me. My head’s heavily bandaged. It's so dark, I can barely see who it is.
He's ripped from my arms by a tall menacing man whose name I can't quite recall, his face one I can’t place. A sob leaves me, and fat tears roll down my cheeks. My body starts to shake violently, and my eyes burst open, landing on one blue eye, one brown.
"Kay Kay, what the fuck? What's happening?" Blood pounds in my ears so loudly I can barely hear him. I shake my head to clear my thoughts. My memory… I lost my memory in an explosion! I push off the floor and stand chest to chest with Connor.
"That's right, Kayla. We were attacked at your mum's farm. The explosion threw you through the air and your head crashed into a boulder."
So, he can read my mind! Holy shit?
What he says can't be true though, can it? I mean, wouldn't someone have told me I'd lost all my memories? "Your dads made everyone swear to never tell you. Kayla, your brother died in that explosion. And so, did one of your chosen." My brother? My chosen? Oh, this is fubar! I need air! I rush out the door and heat hits my skin, making me itch.
"I don't… I didn't…" My legs collapse under me and I fall to the floor. Connor tries to catch me but my descent’s too swift. My knees meet the dirt, but I don't feel it. Brother?
"Kay, I'm so sorry. But you must believe me when I say the person who did this will pay. But we need to get to Tri-City quickly. We’re running out of time." His hands on my shoulder and I don't shrug it off. I’m too numb to react. My brother was taken from me and then my mother. Could the two things be connected?
"We believe so, sweet face." I look up into his face and watch as his eyes roam the wastelands around us. Overgrown, empty and not a building within sight except the shack at our backs. He sniffs the air; I smell it too. Panda.
"We need to move, Kay. Can you walk?"
I scoff and pluck a bud from a nearby flower. Bringing it to my nose, I breathe its soft scent into my lungs, letting it soothe my soul. I have no right to cry over a brother I can't remember having, but a tear escapes nonetheless. Connor can read minds. That's … freaky, but kinda cool. "I'm not injured, Connor, of course I can walk." I lift my gaze to the sky. The suns at its highest, which means it's time to move.
I pop back into the small room and collect our things. Our? When did I become, we? Ugh. We walk in utter silence with Connor taking the lead. I amble behind him with Baby at my side, barely aware of my surroundings. For the first time since I was a child, I pay no mind to potential threats. Baby wanders off, constantly in search of something for us to eat and then I'm alone again. He'll be back, but I miss him already.
Despite the lack of sustenance, my body feels alive with energy. Having grown used to the feeling of hunger, I don't even think about the fact it's been a long time since we ate until Connor's stomach growls loudly.
"Baby!" I shout louder than I should out here. But the need to sate our growing hunger overtakes my good sense. Turning back to Connor, I can't help but giggle a little at the look he wears. Confusion, his brows drawn down, and something else. I can't put my finger on what it
is, maybe desire? I have no idea, but the two emotions warring against each other looks funny. I want to both kiss him and sever his Achilles heel. A smile spreads across his face and I roll my eyes.
Being so confused all the time is exhausting.
"You remember my brother?" I ask as we continue forward. Baby could take a while to find us something and the leftovers from last night won't feed the three of us. I need something to bulk it up, eating once a day has become my norm. Hunger’s my constant companion.
"Yes. You were twins, except his hair was the darkest black." That's interesting. I often wondered why mine was bright blonde. A freak of nature or science, I don't know. My mum wouldn't talk about it, so I stopped asking.
I wonder what life would've been like today if he’d survived? Would we have roamed the wastes together? Perhaps he would’ve preferred to stay on the farm and maybe I would’ve followed suit. Would our mother still be alive today if my brother had lived to protect her?
"What was his name?" I focus hard on the ground, pretending to be fascinated as it turns from dry dirt to scorched earth as we skirt around a three-mile crater. Bombs didn't hit the countryside much during the wars, not enough of a population to warrant the attack. But when they hit here, they devastated this place, turning it into a hole in the planet.
"Kyron."
Kayla and Kyron. Mum liked the letter K then, huh. Her husbands’, my dads’, names all started with K too. Her name was Kathryn. Their names are Keith, Klaud and Kitch. Mum would tell me stories of how she met them. Rescuing her from a sure death, she'd been caught by Brutes while trying to kill someone who’d tried to rape her. They reached her, their promised, just in time to save her.
At just nineteen, she took them as her own. They set up the Kaleidoscope farm and together fed thousands of Scraps across the UK.
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