Steel Hearts

Chapter [8] Confessions

Tears tried to escape, but I held them back. “Where is everyone? The kids…”

“I’m sure they’re all safe. My guess is that everyone was relocated. Maybe there is high level of radioactivity here,” Chase explained.

“Then we better get supplies and head out,” I said, walking toward my foster home. I didn’t hear footsteps following. Looking over my shoulder, I stared into the eyes of Chase. “Coming?” He nodded with a slight smile.

“Right behind you,” he said.

Stepping onto the wooden porch to what used to be my home wasn’t easy. The boards beneath my feet creaked with ever movement I made, inch by inch. So many memories, mostly bad, were wrapped up in this two-story home.

I sat on the porch swing, rocking back and forth. The air felt heavy, my lungs struggled with each breath. Inara would call me stupid for not wearing a mask.

Masks…I thought, pulling the bag onto my lap.

Footsteps startled me. I looked up, and stared into Ethan’s emerald eyes.

“What’s in the bag?” He didn’t wait for my response and sat down next to me, pushing the swing back, and letting it flow back and forth.

I grumbled. “We should put masks on. The air is making my lungs feel tight. What about you?” Ethan stared straight ahead, lost in thought. “Hello?”

“It doesn’t bother me,” he finally said. “If I was meant to be a Carrier, then I would have gotten the mark already.” I looked down at his arm, curious about his other marking, the marking he got from being selected in the Draw.

“Can I see your arm?”

He glanced at me, his eyes filled with sadness I couldn’t comprehend. “No, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” The swing stopped rocking when he planted his feet flat onto the porch. I watched him walk into the house where Chase was gathering supplies. He would remain a closed book.

I stayed on the porch a little while longer, watching the sun set, the ball of light sinking behind the house across the street. We would have to stay the night and make our way out of the village in the morning. The only thing left to do is get Ethan on our good side. Have him take us to the Draw. Face my fears. Battle bottom-feeders if need be.

When I headed inside, Chase and Ethan stood in the kitchen. Something smelled good. I had to hold my breath to challenge myself not to laugh when I saw Chase wearing an apron, hovering near an ancient, portable stove.

“Hello, wifey,” I said with a smile. “Mmmm…smells good. What’s on the menu?”

“Mac and cheese,” he laughed. “It’s my specialty.”

Ethan slid his plate across the countertop and made his way toward the staircase in the foyer.

“Won’t you eat?” I needed him to stay. If he’s the only way of having a chance at the Draw, then it had to start with a shared meal.

He looked over his shoulder, his shadowy figure silhouetted from the moonlight slipping through the windows on the entrance door. “Go ahead. This is your place and food. I will just find something else in the morning.” Then he slipped away and ascended up the stairs. The sound of a door clicked shut.

Chase shoveled food into his mouth, and looked past me at the stairwell. “That’s weird. I didn’t know he cared so much.” There was a hint of sarcasm in his tone of voice.

I massaged my right shoulder, wondering the same. “Maybe he isn’t so bad after all…”

His fork dropped onto his plate. “Don’t get a soft spot for that jerk,” he said, and continued eating.