Keep on Fighting (The 5th Wave)

Part FIVE

Sammy and Teacup have crumbs trailing down their chins, and the most adorable, great, big grins on their faces. Ben seems to have more grace towards what we have now that he understands that he isn't alone in feeling like he does. He's just hiding it less efficiently.

For the next couple of hours we chew our remaining food as slowly as we can, wondering whether Carson will still be feeling generous enough to feed as again sometime tomorrow. Even with the amount I have already eaten, somehow, I'm still slightly hungry, unless I'm just imagining it. I've been imagining a lot of things recently.

Staring at the the ligthtly-marked, lime paint of the wall, as flat and almost as hideous as a moss covered tower of bricks, is frustrating.

Carson looks exhilerated, still leaning against the chipped door frame staring at the shadows behind the stained, glass window. I notice the air patches on the glass, remembering how, as a child, I would draw pictures into the steam - as if he read my mind, Carson does exactly that. It's a smiley face with a dot for a nose, and strangely shaped curves as the eyebrows.

Everyone notices and chuckles, growing gigantic smiles on their faces at the thought of laughter. Even Evan, but I don't laugh. I feel as though I have been deprived of the ability to laugh, never mind actual happiness filling my lungs.

Trying to fight the urge, not to laugh, but to hold it back, I lose hope all of a sudden, realising that, no matter how much I want to, there's only one person who can cause a true smile to grow between my cheekbones.

I walk over to Carson, then, when he sees how dull my expression is, and I speak quietly.

"How long have you been here?"

"My entire life. This was once my family home, but even before 'arrival' I had lived here with my family."

Then I ask a more useful question, "How long have you been here... alone?"

He waits a second, as if he is trying to remember something, and replies, "Five months and seventeen days, still counting. I lost both of my parents in the first wave; they were on a flight back from Europe just a few hours from home."

"I'm sorry..." I attempt to show sympathy.

"No, it's fine, all of you have lost your families too, I guess."

"I've still got my younger brother, Sammy, over there." I say, pointing to the little boy the squad all call Nugget, then I continue, "but the rest of us only have each other. But, I suppose, that's all we need to survive for now."

"Well, I did have three sisters and an older brother. A few nephews and a niece I also lost touch with when the power went out. I hadn't seen any of my family since a few days before me and my friend, William, who I lost to the plague, witnessed the arrival of the UFO-thingy. I hiked to Camp Nova down the road and stayed there for a few days after a few months, but when I saw the school buses and tanks coming in I ran."

"Good job you did. They were Others, taking the kids to the army base, Wright Patterson, where they trained them to fight against the survivors. Me and my brother were with our dad at a camp for a while, but they took my brother. I was left behind when I went to get Bear." I glance towards Sam's stuffed bear, "The adults were ordered to meet in the main building where the manipulation continued, but it didn't go too well... I watched my dad get shot in the chest with hundreds of other innocent men. It all happened too quickly..."

"Now, that's something that should be sympathised." He says, and I let the regret build up inside him. I don't deserve that kind of sympathy. I let my dad die and leave my five-year-old brother without any parents at all. I would never blame it on my father. Only on Vosch... and me. I could have done something to intervene. But then, I suppose, that would leave Sammy with no one at all.