Ablaze »»DARKEST MINDS««

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FOUR:
THE MALL
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I fell asleep outside last night, sitting in the mud with my back propped up against the log I had occupied for the majority of my stay at the campsite. I woke up to a still dark sky and with a blanket draped over my body beside Dane, who was still awake. I wasn't used to sleeping for very long — that is, if I slept at all — so I volunteered to keep watch while he caught a couple hours of sleep. Falcon kept me company for the entire night and early morning.

A while after sunlight started filtering in through the leaves overhead, Marcy and Bo emerge from the tent, weary-eyed and sluggish.

"You actually got him to sleep? I'm impressed." Marcy grins mischievously as she kicks Dane's side with her boot, waking him abruptly. He sits up, startled, but when he notices everything is fine, his usual laid back smile returns.

"Hey, I don't kick you to wake you up." He stands and brushes his pants off, then turns to study the camp. "Okay," he sighs, "we need to start packing."

"We're leaving?" Bo asks.

"Yes we are." Dane smiles and pats his head. "There should be a mall somewhere around here and you can pick out anything you want, how's that sound?"

Bo bounces in excitement.

"Awesome!"

Dane starts to list off things they need, like food and first aid equipment, with Marcy chiming in every other word, while I just sit beside Falcon and let him smell my hand. I smile down at him and pull my hand away to rub his belly when Dane turns to me.

"And we need to get you some new shoes," he says, looking at my flip flops.

"Oh! We're gonna need a bigger tent," Marcy adds. Dane nods, gives everything a once-over, and then claps his hands together.

"Alright, let's get goin', team." He beams at us and slips a baseball cap over his mop of unruly dark hair, then starts to disassemble the tent.

"Do you want to help Bo pack up the food?" Marcy proposes as she steps past me to help Dane. I glance over my shoulder at the child and shrug.

"Sure."

I stumble over the dirt clumps and roots to crouch beside Bo, who is huddled over a small cooler with wheels. He grabs various types of food — fruit snacks, an orange, crackers — and arranged them inside the cooler so they fit around the bottles of water. I spot a Ziploc baggy of multicolored saltwater taffy with Bo messily scrawled on it, like he did it himself, in black marker.

"You like candy, huh?" I ask. He doesn't look up from the task at hand.

"Yes very much. Skittles is my favorite, but I haven't had any since . . . I haven't had any in a long time, I can't remember. What's your favorite kind of candy?" He stops rambling and lands his big curious eyes on me in question.

"Gummy worms," I reply, thinking of the treat I could remember from before the IAAN pandemic. I was a sucker for gummy worms.

"Mm, those are good," Bo agrees. I smile at him and help him pack the food up. We're almost done when he stops and points to my hand, which is wrapped around a juice box. I quickly drop the juice into the cooler and hide the scarred hand. Before he can start to question it, Dane announces its time to head out, and my hands are completely forgotten.