The Survivors Trilogy

BOOK ONE || CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

The heat from the fire is starting to burn my face.

The sun has fully set, and the air has turned bitterly cold. I can feel it through my still-damp hair, slipping down the back of my neck. I shiver, pulling my legs closer to my chest.

The male Waster to my left has joined a group of people that were sitting on the other side of the fire, and Vicky is sitting slightly closer to me, her knees against her chest, arms wrapped around them to keep her warm. I can see her shivering.

A deep part of me wants to scoot closer to her, to wrap my arms around her shoulders to warm her up, but the other part of me wants me to keep my arms where they are. I look over at her; she has moved her arms around her middle, suppressing her shivers. I have to physically stop myself from reaching out to her. Not yet. Not right now. Soon.

I nudge her arm lightly, and she slowly looks over at me, her lips slightly parted. "Are you cold?" I ask her.

She presses her lips together tightly, almost as if she knew they were parted, and nods. "A little bit." Her teeth chatter slightly as she speaks.

"Do you want to sit closer to the fire?" I incline my head toward the orange glow, the top of my head suddenly feeling hotter.

"No, it's fine." She smiles. "Thank you, though."

I smile back. "No problem."

We're getting there. Even though it is slow and tiring, we are still getting there.

The cracks and pops from the fire make me turn my head away from Vicky. I've never seen a fire so tall before, and it gets even taller when the Wasters throw old pieces of wood in there. The smell emanating from the fire is intoxicating; it shoots right up your nose and stays there, but I actually like the smell of smoke. No matter how strong it smells.

The atmosphere reminds me of the time we were in the desert, on our way to... here, I guess. It's weird how we never knew what was here, we just thought we would walk and walk until we found civilization.

For years, I thought we at the Estate were the only people left, the only survivors. I was wrong. I was so wrong.

I may have been looking for food and supplies when I was a Scavenger, but secretly I think I was looking for more survivors, even if I didn't realize it—even when I believed, deep down, there weren't any more. I was wrong again. 

The majority of people around the fire are starting to get up, and I snap back to reality, whipping my head from side to side.

"What's going on?" I say to no one in particular. When no one answers me, I glance over at Kara, because she might know what's going on.

"They're wrestling," she says, smiling. "Want to go watch?"

"No." I shake my head. I don't want to be pushed into the ring again, but I don't tell her that. I can't afford another bloody nose. I don't want to see Blondie in the Infirmary. "You go if you want to watch."

"Suit yourself," she says, using the log to help her stand up. She walks over to where everyone is standing, getting lost in the crowd.

I can't help but watch as the two people in the ring are pushing against each other—I'm guessing trying to push the other out of the ring.

We would never do something like this back in the Estate. We wouldn't even think about it, but the Wasters are different; they aren't afraid to act crazy, to be wild. That's what I like about them.

They are free.

I turn to look at Vicky. "Don't you want to watch them?"

Vicky shakes her head. "No." She glances over at me. "I'm not really interested in wrestling."