Population Control

Camille

He sighed, "I mean we all die eventually, so that's gotta mean we're always slowly dying."

"That's a very pessimistic look on life."

"It's realistic."

"It's depressing." We were both staring at where the tent met in the middle at the top. "Life is about having fun, doing good."

"How are those morals working for you now?" Matthew laughed.

He didn't see me turning red, "Answer the question."

"It was alright. They were out a lot so I had loads of free time. When I was younger, cause mum usually worked night shifts and dad in the day, I could always get my way somehow."

"Sounds lonely."

"Anyway." He handed me the bottle again. "Why'd you dye your hair?"

"What is this, twenty-one questions?" I never thought that vodka would be so vile on its own.

"Just answer it." He chided.

"My mom. She always said I reminded her of dad. Noah, he was the male version of her and I basically got none of her features." I drummed my fingers along the bottle. Maybe we should have been quieter. "When their divorce finalised in the summer I... Mom wanted nothing to do with dad when he left so I..."

"Dyed your hair."

"I dyed my hair."

Looking up, I zoned in on the shimmer of smooth light through the fabric. With my headphones on and cassette playing, it was a magical, even if worrisome, moment. Matthew nudged my shoulder. "For the record, it's totally badass." There was a bird outside that sounded like an owl and a pigeon. It cooed once, twice. "It's weird that a few months ago I was worried about football try-outs"

"I wanted to get grades for an apprenticeship." I confessed. It was something about the night that loosened my tongue.

He looked at me, one eyebrow raised, "No college?"

"We needed the money – the nurses aren't pay enough and with Dad gone we needed it even more."

"What will you do when we're out now then?"

I thought for a moment. There were so many things we could do, so many mundane tasks I took for granted. Watching real, live TV, reading a book in peace, worrying myself to sleep earlier because I had school in the morning. "I haven't thought that far ahead."

"I was thinking of seeing who's qualified for the Euros."

"Of course you are."

We woke up when the cans jingled, like the most obnoxious alarm was broken and wouldn't stop. I wasn't much help with just a bow though, so Matthew groggily stumbled over to them and slashed through their skulls. Like slicing through jelly. Its blood was thicker, and it stuck to his sword like jelly too. As the Rabids blood spilled from its cracked skull, Matthew grumbled about having to clean his sword now.

After that we didn't sleep much, but we haven't slept much in a while. Hopefully there's a time where we aren't constantly on edge. When the sun rose, we lay still for a bit longer. Maybe it was eleven am by now, but we didn't have any fixed schedule. "We should start moving." Matthew stretched.

"Urgh, I have to pack the tent." I groaned and helped to take everything out of the tent. It was surprising we fit in there.

"Hopefully we're almost at the road: how far out do you think we are?" I folded the tent down and tried to stuff it in the bag.

"I'm crap at directions mate." When that failed, I started to properly fold it.

"What's the crackling sound?" Matthew dropped the cans, tightly grabbing the katana. But the sound was coming from my bag.

The walkie-talkie! Dylan must have missed me.

"Hey Dyl do you copy?" I've always wanted to say that.

But it wasn't Dylan. "Camille?" Alex!

"Alex! Hi!"

"It's great talking to you again."

"You too." I smiled. "You guys are close! We could meet up."

Matthew kicked me and shook his head. He needs to be more trusting. "Where've you just come from?"

"Gemstone: have you head of it?"

"Really? We were there for a bit." There was more noise on the other end but Alex shushed them. "Lucky we left after Mal's initiation, they're a load of psychos."

"What happened?" Matthew jumped in, snatching the walkie-talkie away from me. Instantly, by the tone of his voice, I knew we were heading back.