The Transfer ✔️

Chapter Nineteen - Foreboding

Chapter Song: Like that – Bea Miller

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Victor was identified as being one of Marchwood. This didn't ease any tension in the camp, in fact it just increased it. Why would one of our own attack us? The question hung over the camp for the following two days. People sat in huddles, murmuring about theories they had heard around camp. Theories had spread like wildfire – representatives had initially tried to extinguish them in an attempt to contain hysteria, but they were unsuccessful. Nobody would listen to a voice of reason, denial washed over the camp in one of the main phases of grief.

Emilia Arnold and Jose Acosta were the two fallen from the attack. Insecapable death had claimed them, eye-witnesses told. Apparently, Victor got a knife from defense and hid it into his sleeve before pulling it out in the middle of the entrance. Nobody had seen him as suspicious, he acted coolly until the last moment when he whipped the knife out and started stabbing. He had only reached two by the time Evelyn got a choke-hold around him from behind.

Evelyn had recovered from her initial shock and was now drowning in praise whenever she left our room. She even made me insult her twice a day just to keep her arrogance at a tolerable level. I enjoyed it immensely. Ruby just watched with a grin on her face – we were all unbelievably proud of her. So too was Robert, who had spent the night for the past two days. Evelyn wouldn't hear a word of it but Ruby and I liked to tease her, nevertheless.

"We are here to honor our fallen. They sacrificed their lives for this camp and respect for them should be eternal." Isaac speaks from the front.

The whole camp gathered this afternoon to have a funeral for Emilia and Jose. Their bodies would be taken away back to whatever remaining family they had on the outside, but we were allowed to have our own service before this happened. Everybody had gathered in the fields which were warm with a gentle breeze. It was the perfect day despite the horrendous event.

Leonardo stood beside me, Evelyn on the other. The main figures of camp stood in a line at the front, the rest of the camp spreading out behind us. Isaac was elected to speak, his calming presence making it an obvious choice. Two caskets were on the right side of Isaac's make-shift podium. They were closed, nobody had wanted to see their gray faces and know that they could've prevented it.

"Jose was a rising figure in construction, his friends described him as..." Isaacs voice continues without a wobble. His clenched fists at his side, only visible to those at the front, indicate to a concealed pain.

Leonardo's presence is reassuring. But, in a twist of roles, I seemed to be the pillar for him. His eyes have unusual bags underneath them, his face paler than usual. Representatives, excluding Greg, hadn't stopped since the attack. Reassuring people, containing hysteria, checking safety – the funeral was the first time in two days that I had seem them be still. The relentless schedule was obviously taking its toll on Leonardo. Plus, Jose was one of his own.

It was strange seeing Leonardo weak. He had never faltered in his laid-back attitude until now. Even between us, where feelings were driving me crazy, he was always smiling through discussions. Never raised his voice, never asked for space. But now, death has taken two more and all we've been left with are the ricocheting emotions.

Unable to do anything else, I lean my head against Leonardo's shoulder and take his hand in mine, intertwining our fingers. He squeezes my hand once in a silent recognition but tries to take his away. I hold on stubbornly, however, and despite everything he's facing, a smile pulls at his lips for a split second – defying the odds of his emotions. I never make an emotional move, a public display of affection is a foreign concept to me, but I know this will help him, so I fight against all of my instincts to be there both physically and emotionally for him. I don't care that the camp is behind us – anyone who believes our intertwined hands are more important than the fallen soldiers in front of us shouldn't have an opinion either way.