Corn, Cows, and the Apocalypse

Walk of Fame

"Haden, how long have you been shooting?" one reporter asked.

"Since I was nine," Haden responded tersely.

This was news to me. Haden never shared much of her past with me, but then again, none of us did. I had never told anyone that I had my appendix removed before kindergarten, or that I was adopted, but it had never come up. The past is in the past wasn't just a cliché in the new world; it was an epitaph for your memories so they didn't drive you insane.

"Will you be competing in the grand finale?" another asked.

"Of course," she snarled at the stupid question.

"Are you Devin Reed?" A reporter shoved a microphone at his mouth, nearly elbowing me in the face as he did.

"Yes," Devin said quietly with menace in his eyes. "Now get your arm out of my friend's face."

The reporter looked at me as if he hadn't seen me. I expected him to pay no heed to the request, but upon looking at me he turned sheepish and lowered his hand.

"Are you and Mr. Reed a couple?" one reporter asked, volleying his gaze between Devin and Haden, but neither answered. Haden picked up her pace and strode ahead of us, taking the bulk of the crowd with her like a mother duck.

With my view cleared I started to look around. Devin took my hand as if he was concerned I might run off. "He's probably already signed in."

"I know." I shrugged, dismissing that as the reason I was looking around. "What do you make of all this?" He gave me a noncommittal grunt. "Why would people from out of state want to know what's going on here?"

"The central states have the highest percentage of grim, but the lowest overall population. People in the populous areas are dealing with the human factor more than the grim. Most of the biggest cities are just burning to the ground, with the chaos. That's why we came here, to get away from the people."

"People are worse than grim?"

"Most days." He looked like he was going to say more, but didn't.

"And that's why you left Chicago?" I stopped walking and waited for confirmation. He stopped with me and waited for me to explain why I was giving the question so much presentation. "August made it sound like she was seeking me out. She wasn't though, right? I mean, you guys just took pity on me by taking me in."

He frowned and crossed his arms. "What exactly do you want me to reassure you of?"

"I know August wants me to be all that I can be. I get that, and I'm starting to see what exactly that means, but..." I looked at the trail of reporters that were no longer within earshot. "She keeps telling me that I'm special."

"Hey." Devin brought my hand up to kiss it. I hadn't realized I was trembling until then. "Are you asking me to tell you that you aren't special?"

"Yes." I pulled my hand from him to wipe away the goosebumps I was developing on my arms. "Devin, I can't be the hero, and it scares me to death that she thinks I can. I think she's making a terrible mistake, and I don't want any of you to get hurt because of me."

"Why are you bringing this up now? Why the sudden change of heart?"

"This isn't a new emotion, Devin. I'm not a reluctant hero because I'm scared. I'm reluctant because I know she's wrong."

"Why are you telling me now? Why not yesterday, or a week ago?"

I furrowed my brow at the irrelevant questions. Why can't I be heard? Doesn't anyone get this? I'M NOT THE HERO YOU SEEK!

"I'm not sure what to tell you, Lenore." He shifted, drawing away from me. He was mad and not hiding it well. "We left Chicago because August said it was time to go. I never questioned it. I know you doubt her, because you doubt yourself, but August's instincts are never wrong."

Devin continued walking, leaving me to trail behind him. Judging by the speed of his flight, I realized that I had wounded him. I just wasn't sure if it was the judgment on August or myself that had bothered him so much.