EVIL WOMAN / ben parish

chapter two

THIRTY-SIX.

That is my number. When I walk off the bus, the cold air smacks me in the face and doesn't fail to remind me that the jacket I have on isn't sufficient enough to cancel out the chilling breeze. As I hold tight to the dog tag I was gifted, I take the time to observe the meaning behind it as it keeps me distracted from the overwhelming thoughts drowning my mind.

While walking down the path, I'm greeted by the familiar face of the soldier who saved my life.

I don't like to say that, though. For some reason, I hate this man more than anyone I've ever met, and I've met some crazy people since the waves. There is something tremendously off about him, I just don't know what.

"I'd bite your tongue, lippy."

His voice is like nails on a chalkboard. I've always craved the sound of another person's voice. Just a sound of someone living like me so I would know there's something worth living for, but hearing him just makes me realize that I like it better when it was just me and my thoughts.

Greene gives me a smile, and not a smile that radiates warmth; a smile that looks mischievous. Like he is finding happiness in my offense.

"That's if you can find your voice." He smiles.

I want to feel pissed by his comment but I find his smile the one thing that gets under my skin. He doesn't deserve to smile. I don't deserve to be chastised for my refusal to speak. He's acting like it's my fault that I'm afraid to use my voice.

I couldn't use it when it mattered so there was no point in starting now.

A hard shove snaps me out of my daze as I'm pushed toward the red circle nearest to me. That's the only thing I can thank Greene for doing as it doesn't anger me. Of course, his touch sends me through a whirl of emotions but if he hadn't, my thoughts would have been coated with my sibling's blood all over again.

With the tag in my grasp, I run a finger over the stamp on my hand. It was red, which apparently means that I'm not sick—I'm clean. Parker clarified that it's a necessary tool for everyone planning to stay at the base in order to understand whether they needed help, or if they were safe enough to continue without it. That makes me relieved.

"Thirty-four!" A man a couple feet away from me calls with a loud speaker erupting his voice.

Two more to go.

All the children around me are the only thing I can focus on. In the crowds you could catch one or two teenagers around my age but other than that, majority of them were kids—or at least young.

It really suffocates me. Despite their differences, it keeps reminding me of my sister, who was the youngest of the family. How is it fair that these kids got to live but Eve had to choke on her own blood in my arms that one freezing night?

The memory causes a tingle in my spine, sending a wave of shivers; starting from my head. It could have been because of the chilly Autumn air that was preparing for Winter. But either way, it still makes the whole experience as displeasing as it would've been without it.

"Thirty-five!"

A little girl steps forward, her hair a curly blonde, ready to claim her residency. My breath hitches.

Eve had the same hair color. It was also curly, like mine is. Not too curly, though. My mom always used to say it was wavy. God, my mom. I haven't thought about her in a while and for good reason. I wish I could do the same with Eve, but I feel too completely responsible for her death. The younger sister that was mute. The reason it's hard for me to speak anymore.