“Oh.” I dropped my hand and didn’t know what to say to that. He’d saved my life, but he had just killed somebody. And he was only eight. The recoil had been so strong, it’d knocked him down.
“Did I do something wrong?” Max asked.
“No.” I shook my head and put my arm around him, pulling him to me. “No, you didn’t. I just wish that you hadn’t had to do that.”
“I know.” He pulled away from me, so he could look up at me. “I know you wish things were different, but they aren’t. This is the way things are, Remy. And they’re not going back to the way they used to be, no matter how much you want them to.”
33.
Boden, Serg, and I took the bodies out back and burned them. We didn’t want to leave them in the yard to rot and attract zombies and animals. That proved to be a lot of work when it came to Bruce, and just getting him out the back door and into the grass was exhausting.
The smell of burning flesh was horrendous, even from inside the house with all the windows closed. I went around the house lighting every scented candle they had, which ended up being quite a lot.
Serg went to bed fairly early. He was sore from the fight and tired from moving bodies. Max had been acting weird the rest of the night, and he went to our room shortly after Serg went up. I asked if he wanted to talk, but Max said he just needed to rest.
The fire was still burning, and I wouldn’t sleep until it was out, out of fear it would catch the house on fire while we slept. I sat in the living room, watching it out the back window. Stella had curled up next to me, watching it for a while, but she’d fallen asleep.
Boden had taken her up to her room and put her to bed. I’d strained lake water, and then boiled it over the fire in the fireplace to make myself a cup of tea. I sat on the couch with my knees to my chest, slowly dipping the blackberry tea bag in and out of a coffee mug.
“So you’re just gonna stay up all night?” Boden asked as he came back down the stairs after getting Stella tucked in.
“If the fire goes all night,” I said.
“I think it might.” He sat down on the couch next to me. “It’s kind of beautiful, isn’t it?”
The yellow and orange flames danced in the night sky, making the entire living room glow.
“It would be,” I admitted, “if it weren’t a bonfire of human flesh.”
He sighed and leaned his head back on the couch. “You need stop that, Remy.”
“Stop what?” I turned back to look at him, his face glowing orange from the fire.
“I’ve seen shit, too,” Boden said, his eyes grave and sincere. “I’ve seen the worst the world has to offer. And it can be a truly gruesome and ugly place. But there’s beauty in it, too. There’s moments of actual joy. And you’re refusing to experience any of it.”
I bristled. “I’m not refusing anything.”
“You are,” Boden insisted with a wry laugh. “I don’t know if it’s guilt or what, but you are absolutely refusing to be happy.”
“It’s not a choice.” I shook my head. “I can’t be happy. Not with people constantly dying and being afraid of dying and trying to protect everyone and make sure everything is safe.”
“Well, exactly. How can you be happy when you have the entire weight of the world on your shoulders? When it’s your job to save every person you come in contact with? When you can never ask for help on a single thing?”
“I – I – I don’t even know what point you’re trying to make,” I said. “I’ve done everything I can to protect Max and Stella and you. How is that a bad thing?”
“It’s not bad, but you never relax.”
“I never relax?” I scoffed. “This is so ridiculous. You’ve known me for a few weeks, and we’ve been on the run from zombies the entire time. How is that relaxing?”
“We’re not on the run from anything right now,” he said. “And we’re safe.”
“We just killed three people!” I laughed incredulously. “How is that safe?”
“Nobody is breaking down the door right now. The kids are sleeping soundly. You’re drinking tea,” Boden pointed out. “This is about as safe as it gets. And you still have your guard up.”
“My guard?” I set my tea on the table and stood up. “You don’t know me. You don’t know anything about my guard.”
Boden leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. “Really? Because I think you’re getting all worked up because I’m getting it exactly right, and you know it.”
“I’m not worked up!” I snapped, then realized I’d raised my voice.
I don’t know why his accusations had me so frazzled, but something in the truth of it was getting under my skin. He was right, at least partially.
“You’re so determined to persevere, but because you’re trying so hard to not feel anything, to deny any emotion or connection you have with people, you don’t even know why you want to persevere.” Boden stood up. “You don’t even know what it means to be alive.”