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"You're going to get sergeant over Ringer," I say without thinking. Or because I'm thinking too much. "You won't admit that, but we all know it. Even her."
"Let's not talk about that," he says. He's lying down on the mat beside me, staring up at the ceiling. "Tell me about something else."
I shake my head and sigh. He was going to find out tomorrow, graduation day, anyways. He would have to face reality tomorrow. "Like what?"
It takes him almost ten minutes to get the nerve to speak, and even then his voice is silent. "Tell me your name."
I gulp. He can't expect me to say it. I'm not ready. But when will I ever be ready? Tomorrow, when we receive our assignments from Vosche, we may very well die. Me or him, or both of us. And it's wrong for one of us to die without knowing.
"Sofia," I whisper, but he can't hear me. I'm too quiet. He turns to me, tone gentle and eyes soft.
"What?"
"Sofia," I say, slightly louder this time. I watch his lips move slowly, silently, as he tests my name out on his lips. Each syllable, each vowel, all sounding so unique when he says it.
"That's a beautiful name," he says quietly, eyes boring into mine. "A beautiful name for a beautiful girl."
I roll my eyes and punch his arm, hard, leaving him to rub the tender skin softly and let out a "Hey! It's true."
"Shut up, Ben." He sends me a lopsided grin. My cheeks burn. "Whatever."
He pauses, purses his lips, then smiles at me. "Come here."
"What?"
He raises a brow sarcastically. "What do you mean 'what'? Come here." He pats the spot between his spread legs. My stomach twists nervously. He pauses, noticing the unsure look in my eyes. "Only if you're comfortable, Ghost."
I squeeze my eyes shut. He's kissed me, pinned me lightly against the wall in the bathroom, and I was never afraid. But for some reason, this stops me in my tracks. It reminds me of the men in the gas station, pulling the clothes from my body and stabbing me. I don't realize I'm shaking until Zombie takes my hand in his, squeezing lightly. I pull away.
"I need to tell you something," I whisper, looking away from him. I hear the ruffle of the mat beneath his weight as he twists, turns his body completely in front of me. He knocks his foot against mine. I move closer so I can let out fingertips touch. The featherlike touches seem to frustrate him, but he doesn't dare touch me any further. Not until I say so.
"Reznik was telling the truth on the first day," I say. "I did kill those guys."
"Oh." He pauses, brows furrowing. "Why are you telling me this?"
"Because I want to," I retort. "Because they weren't the only ones I killed. Because I can't stop thinking about it, and I . . ." I can't sleep anymore, Zombie. They're in my head. The ghosts are in my head and they won't let me sleep.
He grabs my ankles and tugs me forward. My hands fall to his chest to keep from crashing into him, my legs on either side of him as I practically sit in his lap. His warm hands are still on my ankles as he searches my eyes for an answer. "You what, Ghost?" You can tell me."
"I had to kill them." I change the subject. We don't need to talk about that. My sleepless nights were not new. "The men in the station. They all came at me at once and I could see it in their eyes, what they wanted. . . me."
Zombie realizes what I'm trying to say. His grip on my ankles tighten. "Did they..?"
"Hell no," I reply, hands moving to grip his wide shoulders. "But they managed to get me to the floor. Tried taking off my shirt, pulled down my pants. So I stabbed him in the neck and took care of his friends a few seconds later."
"You had no choice," Zombie says. "You were scared."
"That's not all," I whisper. "They weren't the first. There were two more before them."
"You don't need to tell me any of this," is his response, "it's not going to change my mind on how I feel about you."
"I was dying." I ignore his words. I know this won't change his mind, but I want him to know anyways. I need to tell him this, so maybe the nightmares will go away. "It was a couple weeks after Thomas, and I fell by the river. Split my leg open." I point at the jagged scar on my knee. "I found alcohol to clean it, but this drunk man needed it more.
"That was the similarity between us, Zombie. Not that we were both humans, both people with shitty lives in a shitty situation with nothing left to live for. No, not that. One thing; we both needed that drink to stay alive." I lick my lips. "I tried to get him to split it between us, I--" I swallow thickly and shut my eyes. He places a soft kiss on my forehead. "He wouldn't do it. He tried to hit me but he was too drunk and he tripped and when he fell he-- he fell on my knife."
He knows I need a break. His calloused fingers ghost the skin of the scar on my knee. "Did you stitch it yourself?"
"Yeah," I whisper. "Had to use dental floss. Hurt like a fucking bitch."
"Wow."
"The second was a woman I came across in the woods," I begin. "She was all alone, like me. At this point I haven't seen another person in months. I didn't really know what to do, and I wasn't sure if it was a Silencer or not--"
"Silencer?"
Right. He was in quarantine this whole time. He doesn't know.
"Aliens sent out to kill off the remaining survivors," I tell him. "The only way you knew there was one there was as the bullet hit your chest. Best aim I've ever fucking seen."
"Then how does anyone know they exist?" Zombie asks.
"Because sometimes you get away," I reply. "Sometimes you luck out."
"I hid behind a tree. She heard me, called out for me. Or at least, I thought she was." I shake my head softly. "She was calling for her son. I came out, and she grabbed me and she just kept screaming and I knew if she didn't — if she didn't shut up, we would both die."
"You killed her?" He asks. I shake my head.
"No. But I have her the gun that ended her life, and then I buried her in the woods." I can't hear the disgust in his voice and so the next few words fly out of my mouth in a jumbled mess. "It wasn't up to me to tell her she had to live. I didn't want her to kill herself, but if she decided that she had had enough of this shitty, shitty life. . . who was I to take that from her?" I try and pull away but his hands move to my hips to keep me in my place. My breathing is rough, chest aching at the memory. "I know what it feels like to feel all alone, Zombie. And I know how many times I wished I used those bullets on myself. I couldn't take away her choice, not like my family did mine."
"It's okay," he whispers, nose brushing against mine. "This doesn't change my mind, Sofia."
