Survivors [Book 1]

9. Kal

I heard the basement door open and close then David showed up on the top of the stairs.

A week had passed since they locked me up here, in the quickly improvised prison. My wounds are healing nicely but Dr. Bailey says the scars are to stay. I actually don't mind it. The three inch cut on my jaw looks kind of badass.

I couldn't stay in the nurse's room because they needed the place to treat other people, so after my condition was stable enough, they moved me to the basement.

My former parole officer comes down every day to visit and talk. Well, mostly he talks, I try to ignore him. Beside him, the doctor is the only one I see but I'm not even surprised. I don't know why they thought it was a good idea to save my life just to hold me captive.

"I hope you brought my food!" I leaned against the bars.

He wasn't in a hurry, he slowly came down the stairs and walked in front of me.

"You know it's not that bad here" he handed me the metal mug and a fork.

I looked at it and pulled my lips to the side.

Chicken and rice.

Again.

This is the fourth time this week.

I don't know how many chickens they have, but this is a very big amount of meat.

With my dinner, I went to my bed and sat down to eat.

"Obviously you're having a great time with the soldiers! You're a cop after all, which is almost the same. But look at me! I'm meeting these people for the first time in my life and they already know my place is in a cell" I pointed around "I don't know why Mack brought me here, when he knew exactly who I was, I was fine with dying there!"

"Kal, you're not like those guys out there" he stepped closer "Yes, you've made some bad decisions in your life, but who hasn't? They made you think you were one of them but that is not true! And we both know you don't mean what you said about dying. You're a survivor, you'll fight to stay alive"

I put the food on my folding bed and walked right in front of him.

"Look, I appreciate that probably you're the only person in the world who cares about me, but you don't have to babysit me anymore" I said "We live in a different world now and you're not my supervisor here. I can say the same thing I've been saying every day: I won't join the fanatics!" With that, I sat back and started eating again.

I never understood why, but David always saw the good in me. Ever since I met him a year before the war, he'd been trying to help me. When I just turned twenty one and was released after a year in prison, he helped me find a job, get back on my feet. As an orphan, I had no one to support me, my situation was even harder than most ex-prisoner's. But this stern-eyed but kind-hearted man in front of me didn't give up.

Not even now.

I barely recognized him when he first came to see me in the sickbay. He grew a thick beard, his hair got longer, and his facial features were much more tormented. Even though we're in a relatively safe place, he always carries his gun, just like everyone else, as far as I can see.

"I'm sorry you've given up" his voice was commiserate which made me mad.

I got up once again and was about to yell at him and suggest where to put his pity, when the door opened and Mack walked down the stairs.

"Mack," David nodded.

"Am I interrupting something?" he asked.

"No not at all" David answered "What's up?"