To Be A Runner

Chapter 15: Recovery

"I think we're getting sign language down pretty quick, right, Five?" Milo asks, shoving in a spoonful of oatmeal that I thankfully didn't have to aid in preparing this morning.

I nod, twirling my spoon in my own small bowl of plain oats. While I'm more than thankful it's something that hasn't come from a can, I seem to have lost my appetite.

Sarah's already suspicious of me, and I'm nearly positive that she saw me outside with Caleb the night before last, I know her suspicions have far from dwindled. The part that actually makes me a bit frightful is the fact that I'm sure she wouldn't hesitate to pull out a gun or a knife or a baseball bat if that's what she has on hand and use it to put a hole in my head.

"I miss flavored oatmeal," Willis says, snapping me out of my thoughts. "You know, the kind that tastes like bananas or cinnamon. If I were old enough I would go on a food run and try to find as many boxes if those as I can."

'Just be thankful we actually got to have oatmeal,' I say, taking a bite from my own bowl since I know I'll need it even without the appetite.

I find it funny that before the world went nuts I would've refused to eat this without honey and vanilla extract, but now I could eat this all day if I were hungry. To tell the truth I'm surprised we still find so much of this still in stores since it's been so long, but I guess if God gives you a blessing, don't waste it, right?

"I miss pie," Penelope says softly, doing exactly what I was earlier and twirling her spoon in her food.

'I miss pie too,' I respond, thinking how that was the one thing I couldn't make. That and fish.

"Maybe someday you'll find a pie or something, Five," Milo mutters with a giggle. "You seem to be good at finding everything else."

'I'm not that good.' I shrug, my eyes focusing on my food.

"Yeah, you are. You found ammo just lying around three years after the apocalypse started," Milo grins, his eyes sparking as he looks at me. "You could probably find anything you wanted to if you look for it."

I squirm uncomfortably in my seat, but another voice cuts in to take the attention off of me, sort of.

"Well, if that's true then she should really start looking for some jars of marmite because I'm starting to run low."

"Ew," Penelope scrunched up her nose as Sam as he sits down beside me.

"Yeah, Penelope's right on that one," Willis nods. "Marmite's gross."

I just shrug. 'Never tried it.'

"Really? Well then you should try it sometime, but just not any of mine," Sam states quickly. "We aren't close enough for me to share my marmite with you. Not yet anyway."

"Aren't you guys like best friends or something?" Milo asks, and I scoff.

'I don't have a best friend. Not since the apocalypse at least,' I reply, with a small smile. 'I don't have many friends, either since I don't like people, according to Caleb anyway.'

"That's a bit rude for him to say," Sam says, his voice sounding somewhat defensive. "When exactly did he say that?"

I force a smile and grab at my invisible backpack strap-which Sam notices-before answering, 'Well, Caleb and I were... we were talking about two days ago about my... people skills and he said by my facial expression it looks like I don't like people.'

"You like us, right?" Willis asks quickly, and I see the desperation in the younger children's eyes as they wait for an answer.

'Of course,' I nod, before looking at Sam, 'and don't worry. I like you too.'