To the Well-Organized Mind

Chapter Thirty-Two

[Nia/Fen]

More than anything, the will to live determines if someone survives or not.

-from Jaden's survival training class

***

[Nia]

We don't go to the infirmary. We go home. While Fen lights a lantern, I start throwing things into bags, and considering we always have one for each of us packed, it must be obvious I'm planning an extended stay out.

"You took a vaccine," Fen reminds me, trying to calm my motions. "Maybe it just needs a little more time to kick in."

"Or maybe they don't work for me anymore." I stare at my bloody hands, wondering how much I already packed and stained with my blood. "Regardless, Gregg is going to force Vitch to administer whatever biased test he concocted. Whether I'm turning feral or not, I have no doubts that the results of the test will be whatever Gregg wants." I shift my gaze to Fen. "And we know Gregg would be happy to see me gone for good."

He says nothing. He knows I'm not wrong.

"We have to assume that at best, I'm about to be kicked out. At worst, they'll try to execute me." I stare him in the eye as I say that, even though my heart pounds erratically. "So I'm going to be gone before they have a chance to do either. I can survive in the wilds, in the Barrens. I've done it before."

Fen stands opposite me, and for once, he's quiet about my decision to go into the wilds. Instead, he gathers a basin of clean water, clean cloths, soap, some of Jaden's infamous ancient salve, and bandages. He gestures for me to sit.

"Your hands need bandaging. While I do that, can you explain how we got here? We were listening to Jessi's tale, then you ran out, and then suddenly Gregg came back shouting about needing help before Hale murdered everyone."

Although I lived more directly through the attack, I'm pretty confused myself. Cautiously, I sit at the kitchen table across from him and extend my arms over the water. While he administers first aid, I explain what Hale said and his intentions towards Tavelin. Somehow, my telling the tale makes his ministrations more tolerable, less intimate.

Finally, I summarize with: "He loved her more than she loved him. And he knew it." I pause before adding, "Stupid thing to let get under your skin."

I realize as I am talking that he knows my Ridge story. He knows I say things contrary to what I do or believe. He knows some of the Nia under the façade, and I sit here now, regretting that I let him get so close to me. If there had been a moment, a single moment when I would have had the choice to open myself up to Fen or not, I would have vehemently said no. But there had been no such clear-cut moment. Instead, our relationship was built of infinitesimal tiny moments, a hint at the past, a moment of trust, an unguarded smile, a touch of the hand.  So I shut up. And I pull my hands out of his grasp.

"I can finish."

He glances back at me, his nose and cheekbone reflecting the lantern light. The spikes of his hair seem to glisten in the yellow glow as well. "Easier said than done."

His words could be for either of my last sentiments, for I fumble trying to tie bandages around my own hands. Of course I can't do an adequate job one-handed. Fen ignores my protests and takes over tying a clean bandage over my cuts. The slices aren't deep, but they continue to bleed and sting when I move my hands too much. I don't really want to go out into the wilds with these injuries or in the rain, but what can I do? I need to avoid Gregg and whatever townsfolk he rallies to his cause, plus I need to find Ridge as quickly as possible.

Meanwhile, Fen isn't finished. He keeps busy with my next hand and focuses his attention downward. "It's amazing how little you can actually end up knowing someone, isn't it? I walked and talked with Hale for at least a couple months. He never seemed the type of person to do this."