Not this.
Never this.
I felt bile rise up my throat as I took a reactionary step away from both Gertie and the door. It didn't matter how much death I'd seen or how many people I'd killed, I wasn't able to stomach my discovery. I could feel myself about to heave when Gertie grabbed me by the elbow.
"Don't you dare." She shoved me in front of her, pushing me towards the house. "Not here."
Robotically, I moved forward even as my mind spiraled. We only made it a few steps when Jaquan came sprinting up from what I assumed was the gas station. He looked between me and the door and his eyes widened in horror.
He knew.
"We'll speak about this later," Gertie told him in an eerily calm voice.
Jaquan blanched but said nothing as we passed. The rest of the walk to the greenhouse was silent as I spent the entire way trying to make sense of what was happening. Gertie went to her usual spot by her plants, but I could clearly see that she was keeping her gun aimed at my stomach.
"What was that? What is this place?" I asked, hearing the revulsion in my own voice.
Gertie glared at me. "I keep people safe here. I give them a shelter – a home – where they are safe, and warm, and-"
"Fed?" I asked in borderline hysteria.
"There are forty-two people here. Look around." She waved an arm at her small, sad-looking, herb garden. "You think they can live off of this? How did you think we have managed all this time?"
I thought they'd been lucky with trade or had all the food in the gas station. It was only now that she was pointing it out that I realized how unreasonable those possibilities were. The sheer number of people should have made surviving the peaceful way they'd claimed impossible.
"This is..." I couldn't even finish my sentence.
Gertie's nostrils flared. "Wrong? Sick?" She spat the words out as if she'd heard them before. "Do you think any of us want this? Do you really think we want to live like this?"
I crossed my arms around my stomach wishing I had my ice pick. "Do you even tell them?"
Gertie looked mortified by my question. "Of course I do. Everyone here knows exactly what they are agreeing to. We don't hurt anyone or kill anyone for food, we just-"
"Don't let anything go to waste?" I shook my head at her in disgust.
"Don't you judge me." She pointed a finger at me before finally lowering her gun and slapping it down on the table in front of her. "I'm doing everything I can for these people and come spring, we'll never ever have to do this again. We have every seed we need to make this farm thrive, but we have to survive until then."
It was as if everything began to fall into place in my brain. Gertie's obsession with her little herbs was all in hopes of something bigger later. In her twisted way, she kept a hard moral code so she could live with the reality of her own choices.
And yet she still judged me for my choices.
Gertie was right about one thing – everyone would eventually have to find their bottom line. Thanks to her, I found mine.
I would rather starve.
As if reading my mind, Gertie's lower lip quivered a little with emotion even as her gaze stayed cold and steady. "Making the choice to... do what we had to do, it wasn't easy. We lost a lot of really good people before making this decision and every person that joined us afterward knew exactly what they were getting into."
"This isn't the way." I refused to believe that her way of being was any kind of solution.
"My son starved to death. He gave up every last bit of food he had so the others could live just a little longer and I had to watch him wither away into nothing. He died in my arms in this house. I protect these people from that."
Gertie's hard shell cracked for a moment and I could see the intensity of her grief. She had clearly made a promise to never let something like what happened to her son happen again. It reminded me of the promise I'd made to myself after Paula had died. I never wanted another member of my group to ever be cold again.
A small feeling of empathy burned in my chest.
"My group will leave first thing in the morning." It was all I could offer her. I wouldn't humiliate her further for her choices, even if she had spent the entirety of our time together shaming me for mine. I wanted my group safe and away from hers.
Gertie almost looked a little relieved. "Good."
"We don't want any of your food."
"I don't recall offering you any," she answered with a quirked brow.
It was true that they never had. I'd always thought that had been because they didn't want to waste resources on outsiders, but now I knew that there was more to it. With their group's outward appearance of stability and decency, I had never even thought to second guess their methods.
"And I want the map you promised me," I told her. "Tonight."
"Alright, I'll have someone bring it right over."
I nodded. My stomach was still tied up in knots and I couldn't get the images of the man's butchered body out of my mind, but strangely enough, I still found myself trusting Gertie at her word. I didn't believe we were in any imminent danger even after my discovery. Gertie and I simply would never see eye-to-eye on most things. What I had to protect my group from was the reality of what her group did.
They won't ever have to face this.
"Anything else?" she asked.
"Yeah," I said, looking her dead in the eye. "I'm taking the teens with me."
---
"You okay?"
I nearly jumped out of my skin at Prisha's voice by my side. I wasn't even sure when she'd joined me in my usual spot on the stall's floor. Half the room had gone to sleep and I'd been rubbing my exhausted, aching eyes, taking a break from studying the map. I hadn't even heard her approach.
"I'm fine," I told her. In truth, I was still shaken even hours after my discovery. My exhaustion had also developed into a throbbing headache that pounded so hard I could almost feel it in my teeth.
"You should get some sleep," Prisha gently pushed. "I can take over checking our routes on the map if you'd like."
I rubbed at my aching temple and let my eyes wander past Prisha. It was only then that I noticed that Ian was carefully watching the two of us from the other side of the stall. "Did Ian send you over?" I asked, already knowing the answer.
She shrugged a little, biting at her thumbnail a little before lowering her hand. "Ray's busy chatting up the new guard."
I followed her gaze to where Ray sat by the beautiful, young woman who'd taken over Big Al's duty. "He's been at that for a while. I hope he's not getting too attached."
"I wouldn't worry about it, I think he's just looking for some fun."
But they eat people.
My stomach rolled and I practically tossed the map at Prisha, coming to the realization that it was definitely time for me to shut my eyes and sleep. "I doubt he'll have time for that – we're leaving as soon as we finish breakfast."
Prisha nodded. "I'm sure they don't want us after..."
After what I discovered? Definitely not.
Prisha, however, wasn't looking at me. She was still blissfully ignorant of the fact that our hosts were cannibals. Instead, she was staring at the bloodstain by the stall's door. After everything that had happened, I had almost forgotten that I'd provided Gertie's group with their next meal.
I gagged, causing Prisha's eyes to widen in alarm, but I waved her off. "It's not like that. Gertie wants us gone because the storm is over." It was an excuse but a truthful one.
"Did she say anything about them?" Prisha asked tilting her head towards the wall that connected us to the teens.
When I'd gotten back, I'd informed my group and the teens of my decision to take them with us. No one had any objections. My group had some reservations, most coming from Ray, but it was clear that Prisha had been heavily campaigning on the teens' behalf while I'd been gone.
"She's fine with us taking them."
As of tomorrow, the teens were going to become mine to worry about. I'd already taken a mental note of the clothing that we would need to distribute to them. There was only one last thing I had to take care of before I could sleep.
Ian.
He wasn't trying to hide that he was worrying about me. His sending over Prisha hadn't exactly been subtle. He was still looking out for me.
In the time since I'd gotten back from meeting with Gertie, I'd managed to make one other discovery. I had been wallowing in self-pity since Ian's confession, not even processing it. I had felt grief for Chris and for myself, I even felt empathy for Gertie's grief, but I'd never taken the time to really understand Ian's.
He lost his best friend.
For whatever mistakes he'd made, he had real regret. His pain was acute and since his confession, I could see it etched into his every expression – even his smiles.
I knew how much Chris had liked Ian from all the stories he'd told me about him. Ian had been one of the only bright spots for both Chris and me during our time trapped in the apartment. Chris had had a friend to help him pass the long days and the stories of their adventures made my world feel a little bigger and a little warmer. His existence had made me feel less alone.
Whatever we were about to face, I knew it was going to be difficult. For that reason, I had to forgive Ian. But when I looked beyond the necessity and my own selfish thinking, I realized that I could forgive Ian because he was forgivable.
I had made mistakes, too. Abby. Owen. Mark. Paula. So many deaths stemmed from my mistakes and failings. Ian hadn't meant to fail Chris, he simply did. His road to redemption was in taking better care of the people around him. From everything I'd seen, he'd been doing just that.
My hand moved to where my hideous scar sat beneath my shirt. I could still feel the raised bumps, but for once, I didn't feel utter disgust. In my failings that lead me to receive the scar, Ian had already found some of his redemption – he'd come back for me. He hadn't left me behind. Instead, he'd done everything he could to save my life.
Whether or not I felt something more for Ian was irrelevant. He deserved to be unburdened from his guilt and if I had the power to grant him that, I would.
"I'm going to get some sleep," I unceremoniously told Prisha as I stood and left her in my spot with my map. Ian's eyebrows raised as I plopped myself down next to him.
"Hi," I whispered.
"Hi?" He looked baffled by my move and looked around to check that Misty, our nearest companion, was asleep. Her soft snores confirmed it.
"You know there was this day," I started, hugging my knees to my chest as I gazed at the floor by my feet. "I think it was about five weeks after we got trapped in Milwaukee, but it was a really horrible, rainy day. I had been really struggling with feeling trapped, but Chris was really going through it. He'd had something like three brutal shifts in a row and I could just see it in his face that he was starting to break. I made dinner that night – well, as best as I could – and I fully expected him to be in a terrible mood when he got back from his shift. But do you know what I heard that night in the hallway?"
I glance up at Ian and saw that he was watching me with glassy eyes, looking almost transfixed by my story. I held his gaze.
"I heard laughter," I told him. "That night Chris was laughing. It was the happiest I'd seen him in a long time. He spent the night telling me how you'd managed to trick a rude, new guard into using a stolen marker to create what he thought was supposed to be a trail for the other guards to follow.
"You had him drawing little, purple dragons all over town on a bunch of street signs. It was only when he got to the end that he realized he was back to where he started and that if you mapped out the trail on an actual map, you could see it was in the shape of a heart."
I smiled at Ian. "I know how much you meant to Chris. I know you didn't mean for anything to happen to him. I forgive you."
He looked away from me then, turning his face so I could only make out his profile in the dim light, but from the way his shoulders slightly shook, I knew he was crying. His silent tears fell freely and it made the last of my doubts melt away.
"I forgive you," I told him again. "And it's okay to forgive yourself."
I gasped when he suddenly turn to me and hugged me tight. There was nothing romantic in the hug, rather, it felt more like he clung to me as though clinging to a lifeline. I patted his back, trying to soothe him as he let out his tears on my shoulder. I could tell how much he wanted to get a hold of himself and regain his composure, but he needed to let it out. I held him until my eyes drooped and I ended up falling asleep in the embrace.
---
Abby visited my apartment. She said nothing after knocking on my door. She simply skipped right in and sat at my kitchen table staring at me expectantly. As if completely out of control over my own body, I watched myself bring her a plate and cutlery.
I brought a can of beans over and scooped half the can out onto her plate. She snatched up her spoon and eagerly shoveled a spoonful of beans into her mouth. However, she didn't chew. Instead, her face went blank and she opened her mouth, letting the food fall out into her lap.
My body moved without me, clearing her dish, washing it, and bringing it back to her clean. I then opened a can of mandarin oranges. She picked up her fork, ready to eat with gusto, only to freeze the moment the food hit her tongue. Just as before, she opened her mouth and let it all fall out.
We repeated the process again and again, stuck in what seemed like an endless loop. I felt frustration and even resentment bubble up inside of me, but I was helpless to do anything but bring her more food to reject.
The pile of discarded food in her lap grew until it reached the height of the table and started spilling over onto the floor. After she rejected the canned tuna and I cleared her plate, I went over to bring her the next can only to find the pantry empty.
Where my mind found relief, believing the loop to be over, my body continued on. It took me to the drawer where I'd once kept special items. When I opened it, my hand pulled out a large butcher knife I'd never seen before.
I carried it over to Abby who gave me doe-like eyes as she waited for me expectantly. Acting as if nothing had changed in our routine, I pulled on her utensil-free, stretching her arm out on the table.
She didn't even blink when I thrust the knife into her flesh and began to hack and saw at her arm, peeling up long strips of skin and muscle. In my head, I was screaming, desperate to make it stop, but my body kept on going.
I dropped bloody messes of her own body on her plate like it was meat, but she happily scooped it up and slurped it down. Bite after bite, she kept going as we got caught in another loop. I fed her until my knife was grinding against bone and I thought my skull was going to fracture from my trapped, piercing screams.
Abby smiled at me with dead eyes and blood in her teeth and the next thing I knew, I was awake. My heart felt like it was slamming against my ribcage with every beat as I came back to myself.
It was still somewhat dark out, but the first thing I noticed was that my head was resting on something warm and soft. I blinked, letting my eyes readjust to see that my head was on Ian's thigh. He was sitting, leaning against the wall, and starting to wake from his own sleep as I hurriedly sat up and scooched back from him.
He opened an eye and squinted at me in the darkness. "You okay?" he asked.
"Yeah," I nodded, letting out a shaky breath as my heart rate finally slowed. Hugging my knees to my chest, I took comfort in the sunrise. "I just think it's more than time for us to head for Chicago."