Ryan wasn't in pain, it was more like a numb sensation more than anything else. They hadn't, after all, done anything that bad. Just a little blood and a few hairs off his back - but that didn't mean that he liked it. He would try to fight them if he could, giving them only the blood that would've come out his mouth if somebody got a lucky hit. It hadn't come to that, and instead he was treated like some rag doll to be examined and jabbed with sharp needles and long dripping cables.
It was the greatest flurry of joy and relief when Leah opened the door for the second time. And Ryan looked up, beaming brightly when he saw that she was okay. She smiled back at him, happy that, for once, there wouldn't be some barrage of doctors trying to interrupt them. Leah held in one hand a tiny handkerchief holding something that was in it; golden brown and smelling fantastic, she revealed the bread. Ryan's mouth watering and stomach growling at the heavenly sight.
"Mornin' sleepyhead. Bought you some breakfast."
"Where... how could you get this?"
She shrugged. "They gave me way to much, I didn't want to eat it. And besides, it feels weird to eat alone."
She handed him a roll from where he sat up, resisting the urge to snatch it from her hands and wolf it down in one. He took a deep breath of the smell of fresh bread that came from the small golden circle.
"I can't remember the last time I had bread..."
Leah held her own in both hands. Just looking at it with sceptical amazement. "Neither can I."
"Together?"
She nodded, doing a quick countdown before they both broke their teeth through the hard crust, sinking into the soft, yeasty flavour below. After so long being used to tins and cans and dehydrated meals long forgotten, what Ryan ate was more delicious and exquisite than anything in the world. It felt so warm on his tongue that he didn't know whether he could take having the last mouthful. And after that, they were both so quiet, enjoying the taste of bread soaking their mouths in oozing pleasure.
Leah and Ryan finished the best breakfast of their life with a grin to each other. Still smelling and tasting the gorgeous flavours on their tongues. They wished that it would never end.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, yeah."
"They didn't hurt you? Or tie you up or anything?"
"No. They just put me back in the tower and told me I couldn't see you, I couldn't get past them or trick them or anything. They've gotten better than I remember."
"They're not... hurting you, then?"
She shook her head, then sighed. "Not yet."
"Don't say that."
"He will, though. He'll hurt me to make me do what he wants."
"I won't let them."
"In your state you can barely stand."
"I'm getting stronger."
"So are they. And I don't know whether-" she stopped herself mid-sentence, closing herself up again.
"Whether what?"
She closed her eyes, not wanting to see his reaction to her words. "Whether it was... a good idea. To save you."
Ryan stopped for a second. Remembering the promise she'd made him in the apartment, holding the gun in her hands and swearing to him what she would do for him. "I think... I think I would've done the same."
She opened her eyes, this time to look at him in disbelief. She tried to find some lie, something that would betray the fact that he was only saying such things to comfort her, but there was none. It was entirely sincere. "You would?"
"Of course. We're friends, right? And that's what friends do."
Something inside Leah ached at the word 'friends' but she didn't understand why, the pain knocking her expression off entirely. Not that Ryan was able to notice this. He was still thinking about that tiny piece of bread, and trying to remember when he last tasted it.
"God, imagine gettin' to eat this stuff every day!"
"I don't know, must be awesome to get this kinda stuff all the time."
"It must be. Although they'd also have stuff like chocolate or -what's it called?- milks shakes and beans and... meat!"
"Yeah, it must've been a good life."
"Probably." She looked at the sorrow that came when the subject came up. "D'you remember before?"
"I remember bits. Mostly from the TVs."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. My mum was really into spaceships and space and all that. So I watched a lot of that when I was young."
"Did you like it?"
He shrugged. "I don't really remember any of it."
"I don't think we could if we tried. I mean all I remember is... ah it's dumb." Leah waved it off.
"What?"
"Nah - I was young. I was... I was stupid and young."
"Come on, we all were. I mean, I believed in aliens, right?"
She sighed, rolling her eyes. "Fine. You really wanna know? Well I wanted to be a princess."
"What's wrong with that?"
"Everything."
"Look, you were just a kid, but it's nice to think that. Food every day, people to boss around-"
"Locked doors, going to court filled with murderers and thieves, being trapped in a prison. It's not the dreamland I thought it was. And I found that out the hard way."
For a long time Ryan was quiet. Unable to have anything to say in return, trying to work out what she was trying to say to him. But nothing came to mind. He began to notice things about the shape of the nape of her neck, the bust beneath...
"What would you do?"
He twitched up.
"If you could go back, if you could undo all this and go back to the beginning, what would you do?"
"Damn. That's..." His train of thought left his tongue when he thought about it; of all the things in the world that were, of all the stories his dad told him about the world, of the world that was and all the stories the travellers told him. There was so much to choose. He'd heard of huge metal things that flew like birds in the sky to get to places miles and miles away in mere hours; of people who fought like his dad in fights and wars; of boats on a blue sea and grass. Cool, green, fresh grass.
"I'd get a farm." He said with an invisible smile. His impossible dream being so simple, but so wonderful all at once.
"A farm?"
"Yeah. With grass, trees and enough food to keep us going for the rest of our lives."
"Us?" She asked with a slight blush.
"If you want to. I wouldn't want to share it with anyone else."
"What about Heather?"
"Only if her cooking improves."
She laughed, the bright sound making everything to Ryan so much more colourful. With her chuckle as a backdrop, he could already imagine it; the crops that grew, the trees bearing the gifts of fresh fruits and the sky which was actually blue. It was a weird, surreal place, but it looked welcoming. And smelt of home. "What would your dream be?"
"I don't know. Yours sounds good, but honestly... Anywhere where I can do what I want. Definitely somewhere where I don't have to wear a fucking dress every day sounds good to me."
This time it was he who laughed, looking up and down the pale blue dress. Certainly not her type of thing and it didn't really suit her in Ryan's opinion. "Not your thing?"
"Uh, no. I mean one or two look nice, but shit it's painful to wear some of them."
He didn't smile. Remembering his mother in a dress, once. He could barely remember why, just that they were going somewhere where he needed to dress up in the most uncomfortable suit imaginable. He begged to wear his Spiderman trainers, but had to stick with the shiny black things that pinched each side of his foot. A petty annoyance compared to what he'd experienced since.
"I'm sorry."
"About what?"
"You were thinking about them, weren't you?"
"I honestly never stop remembering them."
There was another large break in the conversation. One where both thought of their mothers, of their faces that were comforting and loving and so nurturing. Their hands soft as velvet, their fragrance insisting safety and love.
"Where were you when it happened?"
"What?"
"The end. Apocalypse. Whatever, were you there?"
"The shopping centre," he said, remembering a glance of when they first met. Right where it started. "With my family. Why?"
"Just wondering. I guess that was how you got away... The infection was set off up the northern parts of the city, so that was probably why you were fine."
"I don't remember anything about what happened... Just that one second everything was normal the next-"
"Hell broke loose."
"Yeah. Well I ran. We all ran because it was the only thing left to do."
"Then it was you three. You three against the whole damn world."
He nodded. "And we did survive. Off the generosity of others, looting anything we could and sometimes stealing from people who'd kill us for a half a hunk of cheese. Sometimes people came and asked for a place to crash before moving on and we let them if they gave us somethin' in return. Then they moved on."
"Others?"
"Yeah. First there were loads, refugees scattered like rats in the sewer. But then they came less and less, 'till none were left."
"And that's it?"
"I've been alone ever since, Leah. I was... Meeting you changed everything for me. I've never really had a friend before, isn't that crazy?"
"In this world? Yeah. It's pretty crazy."
She took a few more seconds. Thinking of the time she spent in the mines, with no light, no hope and all them blank faces. Leah couldn't remember any, just what they did, the cries they called as they began to bleed. A nightmare in chains. She saw the blood of people her age, people younger, kids who barely understood the life they'd been thrown into. None of them spoke. None of them breathed out of turn. The ultimate loneliness being the worst of tortures. At last she said: "You're the only boy I've ever known."
Ryan felt surprised, watching her carefully as she slowly spoke.
"Isn't that sad?"
In his head, many words echoed. He thought of telling her how he doubted that she was sad at all, that she was a wonderful, beautiful person and if he could, he would take her away from this nightmare. Maybe he could get away as well and they would find a way to get that impossible farm and live a free life. And just when his words were prepared, just as he was about to tell her everything that had bottled up since the moment he opened his eyes again, he stopped himself. Because the moment had fluttered away. Leah was leaning back in her chair, moving away from the conversation and onto other, unimportant things.
****
Yvonne watched as the subject was placed in the table, stripped down to only a cloth covering his dignity. His wrists and ankles were burned and cut by his insolent squirming. He was strapped tightly on there, light blinding each inch of his vision, questions slipping out of his mouth like water from a drowning man. He kept asking what was happening, where he was and where was Leah. Of course the girl wasn't here to witness the tests; it would be quite unprofessional of her, even though Viceroy had insisted to be present.
She couldn't say no to him even if she wanted to.
It was an unusual situation with the boy. Apart from the fact that he was extremely young, had the unnaturally white eyes of a deadman and had survived being infected; something else remained. Yesterday Yvonne expected it with every child that she'd met, like some shared birthmark between them, the only thing that any kid would have in common with another. But when she saw the top of his arm, no such mark appeared there. Not even an old, permanent burn took it's place.
He was not branded by Boss.
When brought under his 'care' and 'protection' children were often burned with a B on their shoulder. That single letter meaning that they all belonged to him one way or another. It was a sign of respect in some ways; that somebody had gone into his mines and nearly worked to death, yet not quite. If an adult beared such a mark, it was somewhat of an honour to know of somebody with such strength and bravery. But this boy, this young teenager, had no such mark at all. It was unheard of for Yvonne to comprehend.
But she didn't get to where she was by asking any awkward questions that would only speculate. So she didn't say a word about it. Her mind did race with the possibilities, however. Most of them being impossible - that he, for the last ten years, had somehow survived alone in the wilderness without losing his mind or turning wild.
She smiled at the irony.
The girl was also something that sparked her interest like a flame at methane. She had been branded a wanted criminal, a bounty put up for her capture but not her execution. It was strange for Boss to even allow anybody to slip through his fingers, so she couldn't believe what he was now doing for this child. She wasn't anything special. Hell, she was barely attractive; she'd seen deadmen which were prettier than the little thing locked up in the tower. Yet she was there, treated like damn royalty while the rest of the world struggled to survive beneath her.
It was hard not to dislike her. And Yvonne wasn't even trying to.
However the girl's tale of being separated from her mother did make her remember the times before the city was destroyed. Being one of the most dangerous criminal cities in the world and with Yvonne being a very good doctor within it without a moral compass to speak of, finding work was never difficult. A gunshot here, a knife stuck in a collar bone there; petty murderers and theives having their legs blown off in the streets. Gory work, but great pay; so Yvonne did it.
But one time, the routine changed.
A young girl, barely eighteen years old, came to her and gave her five thousand for an abortion in advance. She told her that it didn't only have to get rid of the baby - it had to make sure that she would never get pregnant again. She still remembered her face, on the verge of tears, intensely afraid and desperate to get the damn thing out of her, throwing the money at her like it would somehow convince her further. Even though Yvonne had done much as an illegal practitioner; she still had a soul that needed salvaging, so she refused. The abortion she would do, but she wouldn't purposely maim such a young woman for the rest of her life.
The woman did demand, offering even ten thousand for the proceedure. But there wasn't any way that Yvonne would do it, especially without a good reason. She left without getting it done, and Yvonne had always wondered whether she did find someone to do it for her.
Or was she forced to have the impossible child?