Where Light Dies

38. Them

"How many left?"

"A dozen. Barely."

-- The Drydocks, Outskirts -- 2017 --

More than half of their pack was dead. Sarah gazed at her fellow campers as they grieved for their loved ones, people who were under her protection.

Her responsibility.

Muffled cries shook the once silent lands, casting a veil of sadness over the abandoned city streets.

They'd left the town.

Sarah had made her call, and she chose not to risk anything. She chose to leave as soon as the rogue left, to pick up what weapons were left of the battle from the hands of the dead, to leave their bodies in the open.

"If we don't even bury our own, then tell me what makes us human?" she remembered a boy ask her as he wept over his mother's body. He had refused to leave, clawing at the muddy earth till his fingers bled.

She left him there.

"Where to?" asked Blake, blocking her path. They'd been walking aimlessly since first light, passing the pastures right into the cities over the course of four hours. The town was miles behind them, and no one had dared to ask her where they planned to take refuge next. They'd chosen to simply follow her, trusting her choice when she had none.

"I want, to stop."

Sarah stared at her bloody palms. She could feel her eyes getting heavier, her vision flashing in and out with every step she took. The world was whirling around her, voices doubling over in her head. Rays of light screamed at her pupil as they pierced into her head, ripping her apart.

Blake stood silently as his eyes ran through her weak frame.

The once strong and capable leader was gone.

Sarah was just an image of what she used to be. Her hair clung to her face, plastered with sweat and dust. The intimidating blue eyes had now caved in, bags of skin under them a few shades darker than the rest. Her face was leaner than it used to be, greasy and covered in dirt. Yet her grip on her daughter's hand remained strong, the child as vibrant as ever. Beth didn't seem to be noticing her mother's condition, staring back at Blake in confusion.

You've been giving her your rations, haven't you? Blake wondered, looking at Sarah who was now swaying a few inches either way. Sarah Dayton was a cruel woman, but not to her daughter. Not once.

With the last bit of strength leaving her body, Sarah swung to her side, her grip on her daughter's hand fading away. Blake caught her easily, his hand firm on her back. Crouching down, he picked her up by the knees as well.

"Mom! What happened to - "

"Mom's alright. She just needs to rest," said Blake, cutting through his sister's words.

Reyna stood behind them, watching closely as the scene unwound. The relationship between Blake and Sarah was a mess. He wanted to kill her and keep her safe at the same time. The only person he wanted to protect was at his side and the woman he'd gladly murder was safe in his arms. The roots of their bond was a mystery to her.

You don't deserve him, she thought, her eyes fixed on Sarah as she fell limp in Blake's arms.

"Is it noon yet?" Reyna asked, turning to the rest of the pack. This was not a time for drama.

Claire brought her palm to her eyes, shielding them as she gazed at the blazing sun.

"Almost."