The Weight of the World

Chapter 27: The Kids

It was a while before anyone spoke. The girl pricked up like hairs in the cold when I flicked out the knife to pick dirt from under my nails. I had to kill the time somehow, after all.

Sitting forward, the boy spoke in a high voice, not yet dragged deep under the depths of puberty. "I'm Amshuman, and this is Manju."

Manju shot a fiery glance at him.

"I didn't ask," I said, waving the knife casually. He looked at me with wide eyes, silent. Upset at the faux pas? Probably. Truthfully, I didn't have any intention of getting to know my unlikely allies.

Firstly, they were kids. It felt distinctly predatory in a way I couldn't explain. Secondly, I did not like the look the girl was giving me, her knuckles white as she gripped the bat. If it came down to it, it'd be them or me. I knew who I'd choose.

I didn't need to outrun the horde, just the others being chased.

Distracted by that most troubling thought, I hardly noticed Amshuman fumbling with a lighter, struggling to ignite a portable stove. It clicked, I heard a little rush of gas, and it sparked out.

Groaning like an old woman, I rolled forward, stretching out my hand. Amshuman clutched it tight and Manju got to her feet. Not suddenly enough to set me off, but fast enough to get the message across.

"I was only trying to help light the bloody stove," I grumbled, shifting back onto my block.

Manju got the lighter first time. Crackling flames were just loud enough to be heard over the rattle of rain and the rasp of shuffling bodies in the street.

"Try and get some rest," Manju said. "I'll wake you up when the food is ready."

Amshuman rubbed his eyes, pulling the tarp tight as he could about himself. I looked away, at the broken buildings across the street, cracked like teeth. By the light of the moon, I could just about make them out. Beyond that, though? Darkness and fog.

Turning back to the fire, the faint glow and heat was like stepping into a warm day. Manju poured a tin of beans into a pot and set it down atop the stove. Leaving it to simmer, gently, I eyed them greedily. I couldn't remember the last time I'd had beans.

"I saw a fat cat over the way. Would make good eating, if you can catch it," I muttered. A cold shiver ran down my back, and I dragged the block a little closer to the fire.

It crackled pleasantly in the frosty night. Dark shadows danced around the room, giving the pair a demonic look, worsened by the evil eyes Manju shot me.

"I won't eat a cat," she said. "It's a pet, not food."

"Go hungry then," I said, casting an eye over their meagre meal for the night. The hypocrisy of my statement did not go unnoticed.

My stomach rumbled.

"I'd eat a cat," I said, mostly to myself. I'd eat anything, at this point."

Amshuman, awoken by Manju's rattling of the tin, glanced from me to the beans warily. A tired smile filled my face.

"Relax, I'm not going to steal your beans,"

"Of course, you'd say that," she hissed.

I drew my knife from my pocket, flicking the blade out. It came smoothly, the fresh spring working wonders. Lightly, I brushed the blade, and found it much too dull. Manju shot to her feet, grasping for a weapon.

"Sit down," I said. "I already told you, I'm not stealing anything. You couldn't stop me if I wanted to, anyway."

Manju looked at Amshuman, who shrugged. Shocked, his face trembled for a moment, before she sat down, defeated. I patted my pocket, pulling out a whetstone I'd stolen from the saddlebags. Running it along the blade, I said, "So, if you won't eat a cat, what would you eat?"