To Be A Survivor

Chapter 4: Wish You Were Here

The weather suits the memorial of Sarah Smith, I think. Cold and gloomy and sad. Of course, we all are inside Janine's farmhouse where it is less cold, but the feeling of sadness and gloom is still there.

There is no body. It's probably wandering around looking for its next meal. Or maybe some passerby with a gun saw it and shot it in the head. It is-or was-an it. Sarah died the moment she turned, and we know she turned because she hasn't come back.

We all tried to believe she was pulling a me, the first few days; That when we all lost hope and thought she was gone, she'd pop up and race through the tunnels of New Canton... But then she didn't. She still hasn't, and we now no longer think she's gone-we know it.

It is hard, even for me. My relationship with Eight was... complicated, in a way, and had a pretty rough start too, but I think we were acquaintances, or almost friends. Others are taking it a little harder than I am with their tears and pained looks at things that used to be hers and will soon be given to others.

Janine and Sarah were close, mostly because of strategies and plans and things of that nature, and Sam seems sad to lose a runner-one of many, sadly. Other runners like Simon and Summer have their eyes casted down in respect for one of their own, and I can't help but feel surprised. Maybe it's because Abel is so much smaller than the AMTB or Mullins, but I don't remember ever having a memorial service for any runners. Maybe someone higher up on the status ladder, but never a runner.

We're too easy at being replaced to be worth remembering.

But these people don't seem to think so. They actually think we runners are worth something. It's... almost touching.

The silence is heavy and thick, and it almost seems to suck the air out of my lungs as thoughts I don't want to think about invade my head.

What if I hadn't fought against her? What if I had run faster? What if she hadn't tried to protect me? Would she still be alive?

That last question is a no brainer. I know if I had just been better-if I hadn't been selfish and fought against her in those few crucial seconds then maybe she'd be alive and we might even be closer to figuring this out because I'm not stupid enough to think I'm smarter than her. I may not have liked Sarah at first and I may not have been good friends with her when she died but I know she's a better runner than me.

And yet I'm alive while she's dead and I just don't see how that's fair.

Even with the few people in the room it suddenly appears to be stuffy and crowded. I can't breathe. I can't think. It takes everything in me to focus on getting out this room, and when my mind finally reels in on that fact, I bolt. Down the hallway and through the living room, and I can hear a faint sound, but I'm too busy focusing on getting outside to recognize the word the voice is saying.

All I can think about is getting out of this house and getting away from the grieving people who are hurting because of me. Because I was reckless and dumb and couldn't keep my head on straight without Eight fixing it for me.

The door bursts open, and I gasp at the freezing air that hits my face. It burns my lungs, but I don't mind it. Not now. All I think on now is how I'm away from those faces-those people.

And the cold might just make me go numb in a few minutes. I may not be able to numb myself from the guilt, but if numb fingers and toes are the closest I can get them I'll take it.

"Five?"

I spin around at the voice, and I give out a small breath when I see Summer giving me a raised brow. I'm almost happy it's her. We're not as close as I am to Sam or Jody or even Simon, meaning she'll be easier to lie to.