The dining hall is much emptier than usual.
Those who aren’t here are in the infirmary—or what’s left of it. Olivia was
there, getting her burns treated, and Scarlet was there too, still unconscious.
Marcus went with his sister, as did Violet, and Rae followed her. That left the
seven of us, eating in silence.
Skye had been pushing her porridge
around for a while before saying, “Here. I’m not hungry,” and sliding her bowl
toward me. I look over to her, worried. She hadn’t eaten since dinner last
night and even though our portions had been cut in half due to the food supply
and crops being destroyed and I was hungry, I slide the bowl back toward her.
“Skye, you have to eat,” I tell her.
I could tell that she’d grown skinnier just in the time that we’ve been here.
She shakes her head and gets up from the table.
“I’m gonna go visit Olivia and
Scarlet.” Before leaving though, she turns and picks up the bowl of porridge. I
get up and follow her.
The two of us make our way to the
infirmary without conversation, Skye leaning on me for support. We stop once to
ask a nurse which rooms Olivia and Scarlet were in, and she informed us that
they were both the same room and led us there. It was normally quiet here, but
it was in a state of chaos tonight. Nurses in light blue-green scrubs were
running from room to room, some pushing people on gurneys, others carrying
medicine. We stop as a patient is wheeled by. My mouth gapes open and I put my
arm around Skye and she lets a tear escape. Almost every inch of his skin is
charred and black, and there’s dried blood on top of that. His chest heaves up
and down as he gasps for air. A pang of guilt hits me as if a bullet had been
shot straight at my head. It’s not like it was our fire that burned him, but it
was our presence that led to the fire.
We thank the nurse and slide open
the door to the room. Olivia sat in one bed, looking relatively fine except for
a few patches of burned skin and a splint on her left wrist. Scarlet looked
fine too; she was lying in bed peacefully, as if she were sleeping. But the
solemn look on everyone’s face told me otherwise.
“Is she o—” I start to ask.
“She’s in a coma,” Violet cuts me
off. She didn’t say it harshly, but she said it in a way that told me she
didn’t want to deal with the question. Guilt rushes over me again. We leave her
and Rae and sit with Marcus and Olivia.
“How are you doing?” I ask Olivia.
“Better, but not great,” she
replies. We’re silent then. After a while, Skye sets the bowl of porridge on the
table next to the bed Olivia was in.
“One of you can have this,” she says
quietly. Neither Marcus nor Olivia makes a move for the porridge; they probably
have as much of an appetite as Skye did.
“We’re leaving,” I blurt out then,
“tomorrow night.” I didn’t leave much room for argument, but no one will
disagree anyway. “We’ll meet at your room, Skye and Olivia, around curfew,
then, I guess we’ll just make a run for it. Toward the forest I suppose.”
Everyone else nods. We all knew that there was no doubt that this would be
easier said than done. But staying here would be an even bigger risk; at least
leaving put no one else in jeopardy besides ourselves.
The other five came in later,
telling us that it was almost curfew. Rae hugged her brothers goodnight, then
resumed her spot by Scarlet’s bedside next to Violet. Skye and I get up and say
goodbye to Olivia, Marcus, Violet, and Rae and tell Scarlet that we hope she
gets better, despite her unconsciousness.
I walk Skye to her room and open the
door for her, but she hesitates before going inside.
“I don’t want to be alone,” she says
quietly. I remembered that she shared a room with Scarlet, Violet and Olivia,
all of whom were spending the night in the infirmary. I take her words as an
invitation and wrap my arm around her and lead her inside. We push her and
Olivia’s bed together. Skye lies down and I lie down facing her. “Where are we
supposed to go?” she asks me, voice low. She pauses, waiting for my response,
but I don’t have one, so she continues as if I had spoken. “What if we get
caught? What if we get lost?” She sounds more panicked as she presses on; as
she explores all of the possible things that could happen. “What if—” she stops
suddenly. “What if we don’t make it?” She dropped back down to that hushed tone
that was so soft and frail and possessed so much fear.
“Shh,” I whisper as I stroke the
side of her face with my hand. She sighs. “You’ll be fine.” I would make sure
of it. After giving me a despondent look, she rolls onto her other side, her
back facing toward me. I drape my arm around her and soon after I do, she laces
her fingers with mine. Neither one of us says anything after that; I just
listen to her breathing as it steadies and she drifts off to sleep.
I close my eyes too, and attempt to
clear my mind of everything. All of the pain, loss, doubt, fear, and try to not
to focus on anything except for the current moment in which Skye and I were
alone. Together.
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