Where They All Go

~Chapter nine: More pain and a confession~

Day nine, 8:49 p.m.

I open my eyes slowly. My body feels weirdly fuzzy. No, not fuzzy. Tingley. Like a ton of fire-ants were biting me over and over again all at the same time. I glance up at the sky and see that it's darkening fast. The sun is leaving once again.

Blake is sitting across a fire, watching me.

"How do you feel?"

"Horrible. Thanks."

She nods and hands me a piece of slightly stale bread and a bag of granola. Food. Oh, how I'd missed food. My stomach twists and heaves and I double over in a dry gag.

"Take it slowly. Your stomach isn't used to the food, if you eat too fast you'll puke," Blake says, watching me carefully.

"Yeah, I noticed," I gasp out. I take a slow tentative bit of bread, chew carefully, and swallow slowly. I don't vomit, so that's a good sign, I think. I continue my slow eating and while doing so I glance at my bandaged arm. It hits me that I have just survived quite a bit of shit. I can feel the pride swelling in me but then I remember Swazi and my heart sinks a little. She'll probably be disappointed that she survived to live another day with her ghosts. I've decided that that's the perfect way to describe her. Haunted. Haunted by the people who decided to treat her like an object and not the human being she is. Thinking about all the kids that have to deal with disgusting humans on a daily basis makes me sick. No one should have to go through trauma, especially kids. I would know that it can really mess a kid up.

I sigh and lean back on my elbows, letting the warmth of the fire wash over my stiff body. I hear footsteps and I look up to see Greta walking towards us, a bounce in her step.

"How is she?" Blake asks as she settles down near me.

"She's alright. Not dead, nor blue, so that's good. Probably hungry, so get some food ready," she answers.

Blake nods and digs around in a bag next to her, pulling out a thing of gauze, an apple, and a few slices of potato bread. Behind me, again, I hear the slapping of bare feet, but this time I don't even bother to turn around. In a matter of seconds, Swazi is sitting in between me and Greta and Blake hands her the gauze asking:

"How are you feeling?"

"Like I spent a week in a crater," she responds, trying to wrap her messed up ankle, but the gauze kept slipping loose.

"Here. Let me help," I say softly, holding the gauze in place so she can wrap it. After we finish, Blake hands Swazi the food.

"Eat slow or-" Blake begins but she interrupts her.

"Or I'll throw up, yeah I know, this isn't the first time I've gone a week without eating."

Blake recoils slightly. "Oh," is all she says though.

"So," Swazi says after a beat of awkward silence, taking a small bite of the apple. "Do we know what the bloody hell happened here? And where is everyone? It's like a ghost camp!"

"Earthquakes and we don't know. We found it like this," Greta says, laughing softly.

Swazi nods. "Haven't you found anyone? How about bodies?" she asks, polishing off her slices of bread.

"We've found bodies but no living souls besides you two," Blake says, gesturing at us.

"Huh, that's kind of odd. You'd think someone would have survived," Swazi says, accidentally brushing her fingers across my arm as she tries to pull at her hood.

"We wouldn't know, once the activity centre began to collapse, Greta and I got trapped in one of the cabins for five days, then we finally got out and found the place like this," Blake says.