Fallen

Chapter Ten

~10~

            When we arrive at the camp we are greeted by a very friendly gold dog. He runs up to me and licks my hand.

            “Aww! He’s so cute! I’ve always wanted a doggy. What’s his name,” I ask, maybe a little too overexcited. I see that Alex has a fire pit set up with three long logs surrounding it to sit on. Behind that is a small green tent. I walk over and sit on one of the logs and the dog follows.

            “Her name is Daisy,” he smiles, “like the flower. She’s a golden retriever. A couple of years ago, I found her and began to take care of her; she’s been with me ever since.” He takes a pack of matches out of his pocket and lights one, dropping it into the pile of firewood. Then he comes over and sits on the same log as I am on. Daisy stops licking my hand long enough to jump up on the log between Alex and I, and licks Alex in the face. We both laugh.

            “So,” I begin, “it’s your turn to go first.” I turn and look at him. He’s petting Daisy behind her ears with both hands, grinning from ear to ear. I reach over and slowly pet her back.

            “Well, I guess you’re right,” he says, then suddenly springs up from the log and walks over to the tent. He goes in and, a few seconds later, comes out with a pack of hot dogs. Hot dogs are not something that is offered very often in town because they are not very healthy; I wonder how he got them.

            He grabs two sticks and comes back over to the log, this time sitting next to me with Daisy on the other side. He takes a pocket knife out of his pocket and carefully slices open the package. He looks at me, “Would you like one?”

            I grin, “Sure.” He hands me a stick and a hot dog. At first I’m confused because it’s still cold, but I see him slide the meat on the stick and stick it in the fire so I do the same. He soon pulls it out and bites it, and I once again model his movements.

            It tastes really good, much better than most of the food we are given in town. Then I remember, “Hey! Don’t try to change the subject!”

            He takes another bite and smiles, “Ok, ok, you got me. One sec.” He takes his meal off the stick and lays it in his lap. Then slides another one on and sticks that one in the fire, too. I don’t know what he’s doing at first, but then I see him take it out the fire, slide it off the stick, and toss it over to Daisy. She seems very pleased and, with the meat in her mouth, slowly walks over to the tent and lies down. Then Alex slides his hot dog back on the stick and continues to bite it. I slowly nibble on mine, enjoying the taste.

            When he’s done, he lays the stick on the ground and looks over at me, “Ok, I’m ready.”

            I nod, urging him to go on.

            “Well, it all started when I was very young, about five. My mother and father were murdered and I was sent to live with my uncle. He told me all about a secret that the society was hiding from us.”

            I gasp. Secret? My mother’s written words echo in my head, I was murdered because I knew the secret.

            “Is everything okay?” he asks sounding concerned. “Do you need anything?” He scoots closer to me and puts his hand on my shoulder, but quickly draws it back.

            “No, I’m fine,” I say, shaking my head. “Please continue.”

            “Of course. Anyway, he told me that only special people were allowed to know the secret, those who could possibly change it. He trusted me. I let him down. One day, when I was twelve, I went down to the park that was near my house for some fresh air and exercise. I came back an hour later and my uncle was gone. All that was left in his place was a note on the counter that said Leave.” His voice gets very quiet, and this time it’s my turn to comfort him.

            I take his hand in mine and whisper, “Everything will be okay.”

            He clears his throat, takes his hand back, and continues with his head high, “So that’s what I did. I sliced my Pod, packed food, weapons, and clothes, and left. I’ve been traveling around ever since.”

            I realize then that it was probably stupid of me to grab his hand like I did. Still, I ask, “How did a small pack of food last you four years? Wait, how old are you?”

            He smiles, “You are very observant. I am sixteen and a half. Whenever I arrive near a new town, I go in and steal food. I know it’s not the right thing to do, but if you were in my shoes, you would probably do the same thing.” He’s right. I would.

            “You never got a job assignment,” I say. It’s not a question.

            He shakes his head, “No. But, enough about me, tell me your story.” He leans in close and I can smell the hot dog on his breath.

            For some reason, I really trust him.