Wings

World Expansion I

"The difference between misery and happiness depends on what we do with our attention."
—Sharon Salzberg

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'GRAHAM'

As he pulled into the outpost and dismounted his bike, the stranger felt as if he we floating. He went straight to his office, propping his feet on the table. Closing his eyes, he recalled.

Eyes that weren't quite sea, not quite sky. Thick, wild hair with just a few strands of grey. High cheekbones. Pale. So so pale. A nose that was not quite Roman. Trim, toned in the limbs, but soft too. Substantial. A quick mind. An easy smile that hid what her shaky hands couldn't.

He felt excitement bubbling up again and tamped it back down. He knew what was happening. She was a rabbit. And he the wolf. He'd have to suppress the urge to give chase. He respected her.

She had been more than 'nice'. She'd been kind. But kindness meant next to nothing now. It was her manner of kindness he supposed. While she smiled and made small talk, she made very clear that she absolutely would shoot if necessary. That there was no world in which he would overtake her without a fight. Her voice didn't quake when she ordered him to stop.

He was obsessing, but it was a welcome distraction. It's not easy being king of the world. His day hardly ever varied. Day in and day out of people blowing smoke up his.... And being the go-to for every minor problem. Small price to pay for saving the world, he supposed. It worked anyway. People were fed, clothed, medicated. It was a fragile thing.

He had to be hard. Cruel even. It's all they respected anymore. He had seen so many milquetoast leaders rise and fall, and camps along with them. But no more. He even enjoyed it occasionally.

This girl was new. He would have remembered her if she was from Oceanside or Hilltop. He'd ask around, but he was almost certain she wasn't one of his. She would have recognized him.

The image was important. The jacket, gloves and ascot worn, even in blistering heat. And of course Lucille. But it was more than what was on the outside. The sideways grin, tilt of his head, his gait...all things that went into maintaining his place at the top. It started as an act, bravado. It wasn't anymore. He couldn't tell where he ended and the king began...

New. Clean. Muscled so she's not starving. Skills. She had to have a car. They were too far out from anything for her to have walked in the rough terrain. Hiking boots weren't worn to threads. Did she have access to fuel, or did she just get a lucky find?

His mind could race like that for a while if he let it. He could keep replaying their conversation in his mind. Songs and jobs and hobbies... maybe instead of reflecting on a conversation passed, he'd make a new memory.

She had said she was staying a while. She had said "maybe a week".
Maybe he would go check on her later, after dark. A woman alone wouldn't be safe after dark. It wouldn't be chivalrous...

After things got a bit more quiet, everyone either resting, or tending their tasks, he slipped out. He could see the clearing through the trees, and began making a big circle in the trees surrounding it. The only sign of her he found were drag and tire marks.

A pool of blood, smeared by dragging alarmed him, but there was animal hair on the ground.

"Well, well, Lucille. Looks like she ain't leaving any game here. Fished out the pond, and poached a deer too. Coulda fed a lot of people, but whaddaya say, honey? Should we forgive her? Forgive the lil snake for taking our food and then skipping out on the check?"