Keep on Fighting (The 5th Wave)

Part NINE

My head is still resting on Evan's shoulder when the sunlight shines though my eyelids, irritatingly waking me. The whole world around me flashes white as my eyes flutter open, my first sight being the distinct leaves on their branches above me.

I am reminded of how lucky we are to have discovered an area that isn't monitored by Others, although they could be presently watching our every move. Each small step we take in any direction could be secretly known by the enemies who want us dead, whether we deserve to be or not.

But I doubt that - if they were going to kill us, they would have already done so. Evan could be their reason for stalling, though. Are they scared of him? Not only enemies can fear, I've experienced that. When I first found out Evan was a Sleeper, of course I was afraid. Terrified even. How could I have known if I was safe with Evan when I didn't really understand who or what he was. By now, surely he has proven his loyalty.

"Comfortable?" Evan asks, smirking.
I nod 'yes' and feel a smile growing wider until I feel as though my jaw will explode. "You're so warm!" I exclaim, and we both giggle slightly, which warms my mood even more.

I feel a hand tapping on my shoulder. "We need food, as much as we can get. I saw some blackberry bushes growing nearby, we should get some."
He doesn't wait for me to agree before heading out into the trees towards a group of bushes scattered with berries.

I struggle to lift my half-asleep body from the ground until Evan grips my arms to pull me up. How he hasn't already fallen asleep after his night on watch duty, who knows? I fell asleep almost immediately in Evan's arms.

When I finally reach Ben, he stares coldly at me, for a reason I am unaware of. It's like a death stare, as if I am a kid who just stole his chocolate bar from his lunch box.

"What's up?" I ask. "What are you looking at me like that for?"
He stares for a few more moments before answering, "You just remind me so much of the past." I understand competely - at least I haven't committed an unforgivable crime as I'd suspected from his ice cold glare.

"Do you have any idea why it's so difficult to move on from what used to be? How do we adapt to this life?"
I can say but one thing, "I've been asking myself the same question for months. I'm so glad you've admitted you feel the same way. What happened to the popular, talkative guy you used to be?"
"Experiences change people, Cassie."

Have I changed. It must be bad if I'm unsure whether I have changed or not. But would it be strange to ask my ex-crush what he thinks of me?

"Have I changed?"
Ben is staring into the soil. "Huh?"
He has obviously lost focus on the conversation. "Have I changed?" I repeat.
It takes a few seconds for his blank expression to fade, but he eventually says, "We've all changed. Some more than others."

"I don't think Evan's changed."
"Of course he has! Before he met you, he had lost the ability to love, correct?"
I nod. How can I take him seriously when he says the word 'correct' at tbe end of his sentence.
"Isn't that enough proof? I can tell by his eyes that he loves you. More than words can explain."

I then realise how awkward this conversation could soon become. Let the awkwardness commence! Nice to know I haven't lost my terrible sense of humor.

"I'm sorry to burden you, Ben, but I think I might be... afraid of love." I whisper those last words in effort to allow only Ben to hear them, and not anyone who may be lurking in the sidelines.
It's true, though. Actually; no. I'm afraid of misunderstanding the concept. What if I have no idea what love even is?
But when I glance back at Evan perching on the edge of a log, I seem to forget about that fear.

"How the heck can you be afraid of love? Surely you're creating problems."
I consider it, but am certain it's not the case.
"I'm pretty sure I am. I'm afraid that I don't know what love is, that I am misunderstanding the concept completely."

"I don't know much about true love after the many high school girls I've dated in my time, but I'm one-hundred percent sure you love Evan too. You two are in love. Trust me; there's no other explanation for the gleams in your eyes when you look at each other." He pauses, then asks, "You're not afraid of Evan are you?"

How could I be afraid of the man I love? He's my protector.
I shake my head ambigorously, my mind filtering with endless comments I could back up my disagreement to Ben's statement with.

He shrugs his shoulders. "I don't know, then, Cass. You just gotta trust your gut. Follow your instincts and you should be fine." He taps my shoulder before carrying his handful of berries to the rest of the squad.
How did his mood change at the slightest conversation between us? I feel a mutual relationship brewing right at that moment.

- - -

The morning seems to fly by as effortlessly as I ever thought time could pass, and the sun is directly above us by the time I realise how long we have been in the same spot. However much I long for the day to last forever and longer, the clouds seem to float faster each time I spare a glance at them.

"I spoke to Ben." I tell Evan.
He shows no emotion for a moment and then he asks, "What did he say?"
I didn't want to waste his time explaining everything in my conversation with Ben, so my answer was simplified. "He obviously misses his old life, just like the rest of us. But he's nothing like he used to be. I didn't know him too well before the... you know, incident... but he seems like a totally different person."

There is thorough understanding in Evan's eyes - I expected him to state something like "We've all changed" or "He should just get over it", but he just grunted slightly.

"I've got a feeling like something bad is going to happen..." I can tell that he's not teasing me; I identify the seriousness in his gaze, in the way his eyebrows are slanted at a particular angle.
"Something like what?"
"Something like ----"

The bushes rustle.

Leaves crunch.

A gunshot.

A squeal.

And Evan grabs my hand, yanking me towards the source of the scream. I immediately identify the pink cardigan on the dirty blonde girl laying the ground.

Ringer is clutching onto Teacup's ever-so-small, pink hand, tears, the first I've ever seen, sparkling on her cheeks. My heart seems to sink into oblivion when I notice the dark bloodstain on Teacup's torso, which grows larger and larger as if someone is spilling paint from its container.

"Teacup, hold on... please, it's gonna be all right. Just don't let go of my hand..."

The child was screaming before, but her energy seems to be slowly draining from her. I immediately know that she won't survive this. A creature so mild and tender like Teacup has no chance of surviving something like this without medical help. Even Dumbo who is standing in the sidelines has no possible way to rescue her without a medical kit of any sort.

I see Sams whimpering beside Ringer and I almost run over there to hold him in my arms. I walk slickly, kneel next to him and wrap my arms around him, letting him fall into my hold. The moment reminds me of mom's burial, and we cried with dad and nothing but a photograph which sat on a covered ditch in the ground, and my eyes well up with tears.

What would it be like if mom and dad were here right now? What would they say in attempt to lighten the mood. I could taste bitter sadness in the air. It was merely depressing.

I stare over at Teacup, who is muttering words I am yet to understand. The volume of her voice heightens. "Al..." I hear her say. "Al..." she repeats. Her breath is shaky.

"Alli..." She is speaking to me directly. Her eyes move back up to Ringer as she places her hand on her cheek, her hands tiny against Ringer's face.
She says something before her eyes flutter shut, and I feel as though her soul is rising into the sky. I'd love to believe that is the case, anyway.

Teacup's hand falls from Ringer's gasp as she lies there, unmoving, obviously no longer alive. I hate to say that - 'she's dead'. What an utterly saddening thought.