“A group of outcasts that occupy the steel district. I’ll be meeting them tomorrow, you can come along if you want?”
Meet? I shook my head. No one met anyone, not anymore. We only hid, we only survived.
“They don’t hurt us, we’re safe,” she turned, yanked open a drawer, and grasped the first of tens of can openers. “Not the Lost Boys, or The Mighty. We’re off-limits to everyone.”
“Why?”
She turned her head, the brown in her eyes hardened. “Because if they want the damn cure, then they’d better fall in line. We’re the only ones that can give them that, so they’ll go out of their way to protect us, and trade for the things we might need.”
“Like a book.”
Kenya gave a nod, and her stony stare softened, turning to pain. “Yeah, for a damn book. I’d been trying to find a way to get close to him for years, and all he’s asked for was that damn thing. He has it now. He’ll shut himself away, until harvest day, anyway.”
“Harvest day?”
“It’s the day we give blood. We all get tested, The Mighty, Lost Boys…everyone. There hasn’t been a case of the plague since Kris started testing and giving us boosters. But he keeps checking, he keeps working on a cure for good. We call it harvest day, the day when everyone gives us samples to test. The last one was five days ago, but I’ll need to go back tomorrow.”
“So, needles.” I suppressed a shudder. One fear was replaced with another.
“Yeah, but don’t worry. He gives you something to make up for it…a little boost, Kris calls it. It’s really a shot of antibiotics dosed with some killer non-pathogens that he’s created. They make you feel good, actually better than good. No one’s been sick, not from the plague, not from anything, since we’ve started taking them. We call it the miracle drug.”
Heat rushed to my face. I dragged my arms down and turned away.
“I already saw them, you know. No need to hide now,” she murmured and worked the can opener around the rim of the can. “We all do what we have to do, Harlow. There’s no judgement here.”
The heat burned, spreading across my cheeks to run down my neck. I wanted to tell her the reason. I needed to explain. But the words were frozen, wedged tight in the back of my throat.
Happy birthday, Harlow…
Sarah’s voice rang inside my head.
I miss you, my pain in the ass big sister…
I missed her, too. I missed her so much, I drugged myself to not remember, to not hear her at all. The ping of the can opener echoed, drowning out my sister’s voice. I watched Kenya scoop half the massive can into a bowl, and then turn toward me.
“No judgement, remember? That goes for yourself, too. We’ve all done things we wouldn’t have done before. But that was before…”
She smiled as I grabbed the bowl from her hands.
There was no judgement…not in this moment—not on this perfect day.
There was only food, and, for the first time in a very long time…friends.
7
The sudden boom of laughter rocked the room. I stilled with the fork at my lips and stared as Chuck leaned backwards with a thin, pale ear of corn in one hand, and the other flailing around mid-air.
Meat juice ran down his face as he leaned forward. “And then he said, no, you’re looking at it all wrong. The glass isn’t half empty, it’s completely full. It’s filled with half liquid, and half gas.”
Kenya groaned, holding a plate still full of food.
Damon shook his head and gnawed on a bone.
“Get it?” Chuck roared. “Half gas!”
I waited for the words to have an impact…and waited, and waited. I didn’t get it.
Kenya’s groan turned into a snigger.
Damon’s stoic expression cracked with the hint of a smile.
My lips curled at the edges as I watched this giant of a man rock with laughter and clutch his belly, and I realized it wasn’t the joke they were laughing at—it was him. His laughter was a contagion in itself.
“Oh, it hurts,” Chuck cried and clutched the side of his belly.
Tears brimmed from red rimmed eyes. A trail of blood welled from under one nostril and then slipped to the top of his lip.
Kenya stopped, reached into her pocket, and then held out a piece of torn fabric. “Your nose, dude.”
The laughter ended. His gaze went straight for me as he grasped the cloth and smashed it to his nose. “I apologize. So sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I muttered and chewed.
“Just too much damn excitement,” Chuck boomed and gave me a wink. “Good food, and great company.”
But the meat lost its taste as the laughter died. I stared at my plate. Juices were all that were left. My belly bowed, eyelids dropped as I swallowed the last bite. Deer, Kenya told me. Tasted better than canned chicken ever could. I glanced over at Kenya, who’d watched all of us intently, before she picked at her food.
I would’ve given anything to eat like this before…maybe she wasn’t hungry?
Soft snores echoed from beside me. Pitt jerked and ran in her sleep, one chewed ear twitched while she whimpered. A pale bone was trapped under one massive paw. She’d eaten, gulping the food down until she couldn’t swallow any more.
We were all full, stuffed to overflowing, giddy on company and the rush of red meat. I stared around the room, taking in the sofa and the row of chairs. Along the opposite side was a cabinet and cupboards, just the kind you’d keep needles and equipment in. A specimen room, that’s right, where they collected blood. Now, it was a dining room, filled with chairs from the waiting room. Home. Just like my building was home.
They wanted me to stay, I could feel it in every hopeful glance, every too wide smile.
“Come on, let’s get this washed up so we can get some sleep ourselves. I’m heading out again tomorrow. You’re can come if you want, I could use the company.”
“It’s her polite way of saying we’re bloody useless,” Chuck’s nasally voice cut in.
“Not useless, just specifically talented,” she gave a wink and rose from her seat. “It gets lonely out there, and dangerous if you’re not careful, and I could use someone to watch my back. Not everyone’s a Lost Boy, and not everyone knows what we’re doing…or cares.”
Saving the world, yeah, that’s right. I stood and followed, leaving Pitt to whine and snore. “Sure, I can come.”
The Calling hummed in my veins like a familiar song once forgotten. I knew the tune. It led me here for a reason. To help them…I glanced over my shoulder as Chuck dabbed his nose and then looked at the blood. God knew they looked like they needed all the help they could get.
“This way. We’ll wash, and the others can clean up the rest. There’s very few perks of being a hunter, but not having to do the inside chores is one of them. Besides, I sucked at cleaning.”