Graham sat in front of the fire. Tongana had issued a standing order not to start any fires, since they were easy to spot from above, but this one was small enough. It would be alright.
And Graham needed a fire. Physically, he was out of Bonde Wakulima, but still he could see Mixer's leering face. He could still feel her hands on him. A terrible hollowness burned in his stomach, horror at how easily his body had been taken. He looked around at the rest of the camp, and with every woman he saw, he felt vulnerable. Could she do that do me too? Or her? Or her? Graham wished for a private bunker to shut himself into, or an invisible force field or simply the weight of a gun in his hands-- something to put a barrier between him and the women.
He tried not to think about Susie, captured by those butchers in the Mauve clan. But he missed her so desperately, he couldn't stop. His mind became stuck in a cycle, first picturing Susie as he remembered her, then being taken by the Mauves, then being thrown to the waving machetes of the warriors.
He shook his head. "Morgan?" he called. "Morgan, are you around here?"
"Yes?" said Morgan, trotting up to the fire. "Dad, what's happened?"
"Nothing. I just wanted to talk."
"Are you okay? After what happened back in Bonde Wakulima?"
Graham very nearly lied. "No. What Mixer did to me... I still don't feel right. I don't know if I ever will."
Morgan sat down, grief plain on his face. "Why do they do that? If they want children, can't they just use artificial wombs? Or insemination, or something? There has to be a better way."
"They don't do it for the children. For them, it's about dominance. Over and over, Mixer said I was her reward. She loved the idea that she'd stolen me." He shook his head. "I don't want to dwell on it. Did you tell me you and Zanele were back together again?"
"We are, yes."
"Isn't she the girl who asked you out, way back when you all were in the militia?"
"No, that was Mapula. We lost her when we ran from town."
"Oh. I'm sorry."
"We're all sorry."
"Well, then I know how you feel. If you're with Zanele again, does that mean you're back in the militia?"
Morgan gave an embarrassed laugh. "No, I'm done with that. I'm just no good at soldiering."
A little knot of fear unraveled in Graham's chest. At last, his son would stay safe.
There was a commotion at the edge of camp facing town. Graham stood up, ready to grab his son and flee.
"I wonder what that is," said Morgan. With a little push of his heel, he took off to join the crowd.
Two visitors walked into camp, and were instantly surrounded by curious survivors. Before Graham could get a good look at them, he recognized the taller one's voice.
"Graham," she said, "you made it. I always knew men could handle the jungle."
Graham jumped. "Nakasi?"
At last, she emerged from the crowd and stood akimbo in front of him, bow hanging from her right hand, night-vision goggles perched on her forehead. "Still alive," she said, opening her arms. "Surprised?"
"A little," said Graham.
"I can't believe it either. Ramuldari's been holding up well herself. Now, what's there to eat?"
