Chapter 38

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"Were you able to get the blood out?" Ray's voice sounded tired even to my ears.

"For the most part," Misty answered as she sat by the fire with a bucket full of soapy water and soiled clothing. "I think the left glove is always going to be stained a little red, but the right one looks great."

Even without opening my eyes from where I lounged on the couch, I could almost hear Ray stretch. "You sure you don't want me to take them? I don't want Jamie to have to deal with the stain."

"Nah. Your hands are too big. And besides, a little blood never hurt anybody. Jamie will be fine with them."

I heard a scoff from the corner of the sunlit room. "You know I'm right here, right?" Jamie's annoyance was cut off by Misty's chuckling.

"Sorry, Jamie. Would you be okay with the new gloves?" The smile in Misty's voice helped me relax a little even though sleep evaded me.

"But I already have a pair." Paula's gloves had held up well and I was glad to know that Jamie was still taking good care of them.

Water in the bucket sloshed as Misty worked on the laundry. "Everybody is getting a second pair. You might need them if yours get wet."

"Alright."

"So, you don't mind the stain?"

"Nope. It's fine."

A small smile graced my face at his answer. The last three weeks had been more fruitful than I could have ever imagined.

"How are your stitches holding up? Do you need any help changing the bandage?" Misty asked, making my smile fade. Ray had been stabbed in the back of his shoulder three raids ago. The knife hadn't gone very deep, but I was still forced to utilize my knowledge of sewing along with what I'd seen Paula do in order to stitch him up. I hadn't let him on another raid since.

We were all a little bumped and bruised – with the exceptions of Prisha and Jamie. They guarded the house. Luckily, the whole group had been home the one time a stranger tried to approach.

Their body now sat next to the front door.

"It's fine. It hardly even hurts anymore. Kate said she'd take them out tomorrow."

I probably would have taken them out sooner, but I was too exhausted from the raid we'd pulled off during the night. It almost hadn't been worth it with how many goods we'd already salvaged, but it added six cans of soup to our collection.

And a new pair of blood-stained gloves.

The body count didn't matter. We spared lives where we could and left people with feeble means, but we did what was needed. Each raid had given us more clothing, food, weapons, and tools. For the first time in what felt like a lifetime, we were living in opulence. The excess gave us room to breathe and the ability to further our raids.

We had successfully raided fourteen houses.

Two houses and one store had proved to be too well guarded to risk, but every other place had flaws in their defenses. People were predictable creatures of habit. It was only a matter of finding their flaws and I was becoming an expert at it.

The hunting of the fires consumed me. Every waking moment, I spent planning or searching the skies for smoke. I thought of little else but how to crack open the next house's fortifications. I knew it was an obsession, but it felt worth it when my group didn't have to skip a meal or wrap themselves up in a rug.

I had made it possible. Every sacrifice was worth it – even my sleep. My insomnia over the last two weeks usually kept me up nineteen or twenty hours at a time, but I would rather have spent my time working than sleeping anyway. The few hours I did find sleep were almost always filled with vivid and horrific dreams.

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