Self Reliance (A Children's Bible Fan-Excerpt)

Rafe met Sukey at the top of the Silo. She leaned against the rail watching the landscape and the animals on the field. The sun had found a spot between the gap of two hills which seemed to caress the bloody orb as it sunk further beneath the surface.

"So you've ruined your life, hm?" Rafe said, doing his best to sound playful.

Sukey rolled her eyes reflexively. "It's not my baby."

"But you're the one who decided to take care of it. Why?"

Sukey didn't know the answer. "My mother's dead. It's not like I'm gonna drive back to hurricane encino and give her to them."

It was true. The parents would take one look at the child and scramble to seize it, stopping whatever unholy acts they were in the midst of. Suley tried not to think of it: drunk, stoned, and naked adults pulling the baby's limbs until they fell out. Blinded by their fabricated sense of adoration for helpless things.

Rafe shurgged. "Well, it's not like this is your sister or anything. Your mother fucked some asshole and payed for it. Now she's in the ground."

Sukey could sense an angry pride in Rafe. In a way she felt it too. It was the kind of feeling she had when she and her friends caught her mother red handed with another man. After that, she never saw him again, and she liked that. She liked the power. But this, this had left her with no power at all. Now she was left with something else.

"So I take it that Eve, Jen and the others are fine." Changing the subject was something she did very well.

"Turns out they just got texts from their parents. Some are sick. Don't know the details, but it's Dee and David that can save them."

"Do they have O blood? How many are sick."

"Beats me. But it looks like they're giving into those fucked up parents just like you. Might take two or three days. Who knows if they can even save them. But like I said, science isn't my specialty."

She never told anyone about it, more division was clearly uncalled for at this point, but Rafe annoyed the hell out of her. He wasn't a leader like her, a techie like David, a scout like Val or Juice, or even just a nice boy like Eve's brother. He was just an asshole. Maybe he wasn't as bad as her mother, and maybe he wouldn't compromise the safety of the others over a house, a bottle, or a dick. But he certainly offered nothing.

A professional asshole. That's what he was

"What are you doing here, Rafe?" She said finally.

"I'm checking in on you. Don't tell me the kid's you're only company" His monotone response made her more frustrated.

"It baffles me, Rafe, that everyone here gets it and you're just ignorant. My mom's dead, and now I have to hold this baby for God knows how long. You just bitch bitch bitch about everything."

Rafe narrowed his eyes. "Do you want me to go swipe Terry's glasses, because from what I see, I've been doing everything I can to make this better."

Sukey snapped. "You can't make this fucking better! NO ONE CAN! We had a good thing you stupid sonova bitch! We had our parents in that house and everything was normal! My mother would be alive with them, and yes she might not give a shit about us, we'd still be together. Don't you get, it. You, and the others, and your stupid selfishness ruined everything. You just had to be the one who said 'fuck you' to our parents. They're our fucking parents Rafe. We should have just stayed and die with them!"

Rafe nearly had his back to her as she spoke. He couldn't stand to see her completely wasted. Not the kind that his father felt day by day. This was worse than any drink. Absolute hopelessness. He hated it. He hated that she was angry with him. He hated himself.

Every urge told him to go back through the cast iron door and back to the others. Maybe back to Eve, who was with Jack. Giving carrots to the goats would put a smile on both of them. Maybe he could help Terry with the logistics. Terry was always smart, and he could help him with just about anything. And him he wouldn't even need to counsel. He could just talk about what happened as if it was natural.

All in all, it seemed like the last person to need his aid, let alone his consolation was the girl beside him. So he gave into his urges.

Sukey kept watch. As Rafe left, and the sun had disappeared behind the hills.

......

Terry was examining the food supply at the back of the silo, lit by a single lamp when Rafe found him. Several can of lentil and cajun rice were stacked neatly behind him. But instead of emptying the cabinet he examined, he was staring at it, with pensiveness that Rafe could sense just looking at his back.

Terry cocked his head when he heard the door. "It's you Rafe. I think Eve is outside."

Rafe nodded, dejectedly, "I know, I just thought you might need, you know, help."

"I'm thinking about how to best ration what we have, assuming this is all we get. I've even considered talking to Juicy and Eve about taking the car to the grocery store, should there be any left that is."

"I could go out there now. Wouldn't want to resort eating that menagerie in the barn."

Terry smirked, then assumed his thoughtful face. It lacked any emotion, and yet was soft. It was the face of a man. A man who you could rely on. Hard to come by, Rafe thought.

"No, but if you want to help, I suggest checking in with Dee. We need to know if they're coming back. Alone."

The last word punctured Rafe with worry. Would they use Dee to track them down like Sukey's mom. Would they all come just to bring them back. No. He wouldn't allow it.

"Will do. Just hope they're fine."

Terry still looking over at Rafe, nearly silhouetted in the door from which sunshine poured in. He held is gaze, but disguised his worry. He recalled the last time he was with his dad there. He'd made him sit at that table for an hour listening to why it was better to diversify your portfolio before tangenting into the reasons why most failed at investing. This was usually how they spent time together back home, and he had tolerated it, using his freedom wisely knowing that at 7:00, he'd be a prisoner.

But there, at the mansion, it was unbearable. His fingernails, perfectly clipped, dugs scars into his palms. What troubled Terry was not that his lectures were long, but most of what his father told him was intuitive.

Terry hated it when parents undermine their children's abilities. They were more adults than they ever were.

Even So, Terry simply said, "Me too."

Rafe walked out the door, and it fell shut. Terry didn't know whom he meant.

*

Dee kept tapping the wheel nervously. The gas station they were parked in was deserted, and so was the surroundings. It seemed almost to lucid to be real, but the streets and buildings made them ghosts. It made her scared. But she didn't admit it.

Out of habit, she let an audible groan escape, and a grunt returned from the back seat. There was Low, lying on his back with his eyes closed. They hadn't been at the station for more than ten minutes, but clearly it was enough to coax him into a nap. Usually, her mother taking naps during the day pissed her off, but she figured, he deserved it. He was about to get harvested, let alone by people who didn't deserve it. So she stayed quiet.

When the silence and the agitation started to give her hands spasms, she opened the door and found David punching on the diesel at the tank. He told her that this machine was too simple to hack, and so they needed money. Fortunately, they had found enough in the abandoned register of the store that sat next to a Duncan Donuts. She asked David if he wanted a snack, but he said it was probably looted and locked. The first was true.

"How fast do you think we can get out of here." She asked, not caring whether she sounded rude.

He unhooked the hose, which looked like a laser gun, and insetted it into the porthole of the car. "You've never gotten gas before?"

More than he knew. For some odd reason, her parents let her get her license at 16 and let her run the errands. This meant that she was usually the one tasked with refills. Her allowance of course covered that. Her parents would probably call her stupid or shove homework in her face if she asked for money.

"Well, do you think that maybe it can happen soon. This place is a disaster waiting for another disaster to happen."

David pressed the button and faced her, "You were the one who suggested that we get gas, right? Besides, we're here now. If anyone comes, we just get in and go."

"What if they have guns?" She asked drumming her fingers and darting her eyes.

David gave her perhaps the greatest expression of bewilderment to be seen in a boy.

"That is the weirdest thing you ever said. You think just because a storm hit, everyone's going The Walking Dead? You play too many games."

Dee bulged her eyes and leaned against the car letting out a large sigh. Her parents never let her play video games as they were deemed 'mind melting' and was always penalized, loss of electronics, for watching others play. From context, she could tell that David was talking about some kind of apocalyptic video game. No, she did not think they were in one now, but the town did its best to convince her of her childish thoughts. She was half expecting to see men come out on trucks, brandishing rifles and war paint. She knew it was silly and stupid, but she knew how silly and stupid adults could become when it came down to it.

Some things you never grow up from, she thought. Then she realized she said it out loud.

Dee was resting his forearm on the tank while peering as far as he could see down the road where they were headed.

"I guess for kids like us, that's a good thing. Wouldn't want to grow up to pay taxes and fuck all day." He said with a scoff and a headshake.

Dee was taken aback by his relatable but crude remark. For most of the vacation, or more appropriately concation, David always seemed to be looking for something. During every talk, he was always a few inches closer to the girls than he was with anyone. Uncomfortably.

It happened with her when they were on the yacht together. While Sukey and Alycia took center stage with that brawny brainless idiot James, David had come up to her on the railing. Offered her a tequila shot that was offered at the bar, which she took. As the aimlessly chatted about how absurdly artificial the party was, she saw him moving closer to her. Maybe it was unconscious, but when he made contact with her naked forearm, she knew it was likely the opposite.

She shifted away, and after an uncomfortable pause, David jumpstarted their talk by referring to the impressive engines he had seen below. She had no idea what a Baudoin cylinder was, but apparently, there were six large ones in that room and the control panel was just like the one in Hunt For Red October. Again, no clue.

During the watery hellfire, he had been closer than he'd ever been. But then again, so was everyone in that treehouse. it didn't help that that naive twerp Jack brought the circus with them. The increasing roars of thunder, the gas green fog coupled with rain that made day and night indistinguishable, and worst of all, the terrifying self reliance that had been thrust upon them by their whores for parents had stripped away all reason. When the storm came, instinct was what took over, and it didn't matter whose side you were on.

But now, after the unanimous escape, after the sanctuary they found, and after her impaired morality had brought them here, David made no move to her at all. He just watched the road and glanced to her at times.

"Who are you David." She said all of the sudden, without thinking.

David blinked himself out of his trance and turned to her, hands in his jacket pockets.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, at this point, we're on our own and on our way back to those assholes. What harm can it do to tell me a little bit about yourself."

David considered for a moment, giving a nearly imperceptible nod. "I suppose you want to know why a techie like me has shitty parents. It's probably not much different from yours."

Debatable. Her parents were total winners who wanted the best for their little girl. Unfortunately, the best meant makeup, box socials, and a stenciled out future designed by other winners. For a long time, Dee was convinced that she was happy with her money and glamorous life. The times when her father was pissed because she let her grades slip or when her mother hated that she was dating behind her back were trifles. They were all resolved with a strict upbringing. Normal parenting, she believed.

It wasn't until now, after meeting them, that realization hit her. Harder than street sign in the hurricane.

"Somehow, I don't believe that you've had a life of workouts, social media girls or yachts. You're a tech wizard, so why aren't you working for like Google or Twitter? Coding video games like The Walking Dead."

At this, David laughed. "Well, my parents want me to focus on school. But it's just so ...I mean, you've got shitty classes on justice and equality, and others that teach you at the slowest fucking pace ever. That's why I'm sticking to what I want to learn. Fuck what they want us to do right."

Dee wanted to agree with him, even after the primal horrors they had witnessed earlier, but couldn't understand why he'd squander his gifts.

"So your parents. They're just like, okay with you half assing your homework and staring at your screen all day? Even you know that can't be healthy."

He let out a sharp breath, hanging his head. "It's a lot harder than you think. I learned three coding languages, and read a lot of books. It's a lot better than what they make you do at school, if you can believe it."

This was awakening an itch that was scratching Dee long since she met them. "But you're family's like rich, and you've got all this coding brainpower. Why aren't you happy like you should be?"

His hands clenched. She watched him swallow hard clench his jaw tightly so that the muscles on his maxillas pulsed. Dee lost all worry for gunmen and danger to the voiceless wind. David was angry, but not at her. Despite not being much of an observer, she recognized the look of reminisce he wore. Unspeakable memories and thoughts rushing across his eyes. But he didn't quiver.

Dee thought it was unreal. He was just a boy and yet looked as though like a man hardened by experience.

After the ear ringing pause, he sighed, "They ask me that all the time. Even though I tell them that they shout too much or that they never care what I do, they just seem to think that I should be happy with them. But my whole life is just built around this fucked up cycle of push-push. All they do is make me feel like shit, and I've never had friends to tell me otherwise, so how can I...you know."

His voice was low. It was always low when they spoke, but it nearly broke at the last part. He continued after a sigh, which seemed to loosen his tension into acceptance.

"But I'm a programm- techie who's kept being told he's got no place. And after this, the flood, the farm, and now saving their asses, not for the first time, and for what?"

The question had bothered her more than any other. It was like a bug that wouldn't leave her ear, in spite of all this chaos. It was the thing that came the closest to convincing her that the best solution was to just, "let go".

"Yeah," she said, matching his resignation, "Why the hell did we let Low and ourselves get talked into this."

Unconsciously, her arms gestured aimlessly outward. The station, buildings, roads, and unblinking traffic lights.

After a moment, a mechanized gulp came from the cars rear end. David turned. "Because we're kids. We don't know better."

As she watched David pull the hose out and insert it back into the tank, Dee blew a perfectly pitched tune. She always thought whistles meant astonishment or allure, never sarcasm. Somehow, she managed it.

"Dee?" He asked as they climbed in. "Don't ever ask me that question again."

It took two blocks until she finally remembered what she asked him. But she agreed to his request before the car even accelerated.

"Fuck. I was having the bestest dream," a heavy-eye-lid Low mumbled behind them, "I was on a mountain, riding that bike I always wanted."

*

"Rafe! Get in here!"

Rafe fell from his bed, the voice controlled his body before his mind did. A million thoughts rushing through him before he could set them in order. He ran to the living room to find no one. The lights were off and the futon rested in front of the Xfinity TV. The screen that his mother bought for his father's birthday was pitch black, reflecting nothing from the night. The chairs were as they were at the start. Nothing but the hum from the air vent disturbing the peace.

His father's roar beckoned him to follow. It lead to the basement, whose door was closed. Rafe nealry broke the handle tearing it open and a terrible sight met his eyes.

Cassian was on his knees in a puddle. His father stood above him with a gun in his hand. But he wasn't pointing it at him. He seemed to be squeezing it with all his might. A lamp light hung over them, obscuring the rest of the garage.

"Close the goddamn door," he said, with an unbridled amount of restraint as he could muster. Rafe obeyed.

"You," he said with a voice of venom, "why the hell didn't you save him from his stupidity. Why the fuck didn't you do anything!"

It took a split second for Rafe to understand the situation, "I'm sorry, dad. I had no idea where he was going. He went to see his friends and he asked me to stay behind."

His timorous whine, growing more weak as his heartbeat increased, was destroyed by his father, "WHAT FRIENDS!"

His heart jumped, "The ones that I usually see him hang out with at the end of school. The-the Ryans twins. They're a little older than him, buzzed hair. I've seen him talk with them for a while, and he said they were discussing college."

His father turned to the mess of a boy who kneeled before him. "Is that the kind of bullshit you've been peddling: college?. TO YOUR YOUNGER BROTHER."

Cassian's voice was deeper and barely intelligible given his state, "I didn't want him to find out. Please."

"YOU'RE LYING TO ME YOU LITTLE SHIT!"

His father backhanded Cassian, and collapsed to his hands, holding his face inches from the lint asphalt. He was sweating in the lamplight above him. He advanced on Rafe, who shed his first tear at the violence.

"Please, dad, please. I didn't know until a month ago. He's truly sorry and we talked about it. He said that he was backing out and was just paying the Ryans off one more time. He promised me. He's not bad. It's okay now."

His father came up closer. His finger had found its way to the trigger.

"NO! Nothing about this is fucking okay!"

A large vein on his forehead looked as if it was about to burst. Nearly all of his face was wrinkled. Balled his fists and held them to Rafe, then seeing the gun, he smacked himself in the head hard. Letting out a cry, he took a step back.

"Why," he asked, "Why didn't you pick this up before? Why didn't you tell me when you had suspicions?"

Rafe had no suspicions. Cassian was a good brother and never failed to put a smile on him. Even when he struggled in school and his dad had all but given up, Cassian helped him. He put his brother first above all else. So when Cassian said that he was thinking about college, how could he believe that his brother lied.

"He's my brother. He's looked out for me, he's stood up for me. I never thought he would...I don't know why he did it, but he must have had a good reason."

His father threw his hands in the air like a priest in prayer, "It just boggles the mind, this bulsshit that goes on in the world. I gave your all this, but no, no. You just cheat and lie, and all this because...why again?"

He turned to Cassian, who forced himself to his feet. He was no longer crying and he didn't tremble when he spoke. Clearly, all his tears had been wasted.

"I tried not to involve you," he said, "I meant not harm. It was just for when I got bored or for when things got tense."

His father shook his head and blinked violently, "I'm sorry, 'tense'? You're being a little reticent. Could you please define 'tense' for me so the court can understand, Jesus fucking christ!"

"You were NEVER THERE for me!" He shrieked.

His father froze. So did Rafe. Silence was restored to the room. The light held its position above them as the molecules floated past them. A moment frozen.

"You were never there for me or Rafe. You've been ashamed of me ever since I got that car destroyed. They hit me! You didn't buy me anything for a year, and treated me like some kind of robot that would just do whatever. Work, work, work. You never cared whether it hurt us, or Rafe, or even her. It was just you and your damn company chugging along dragging us by the ears. You used this 'privelage' as a threat to me and Rafe, that if we ever overstepped or wanted alternatives, we'd be shitty sons."

Rafe had been holding his breath for the entire speech, and felt his heart collapse without air.

"I made mistakes, but you shouldn't be taking responsibility. We're old enough! I'm a fucking grown man! So, if that's your idea of good boys, then I'm sorry. We failed."

His conclusion gave Rafe the breath he needed, and despite his father remaining as still as a statue, he felt his muscles relax. His father just stared at his son, the one with long black curls obscuring the light from his shiny face. After a moment, he let out a sharp breath.

"Are you stupid," he asked, with a painful disappointment in his eyes, "Am I to understand that I have retards for sons. Is that how it works in this family. You take advantage of our money and use it to snort at us, after what we've done!"

Cassian didn't speak. But he didn't lower his head in defeat like before. He held it level to his father.

"Now the truth comes out. My drug addicted decides he's gonna leech off of me and my decency until he grows up. Rafe's going to have a terrible high school. I'm going to have to tighten my scrutiny on him, thanks to you."

Rafe gulped. He didn't like that he was going to have an even more overbearing father now, but what bothered him more was what Cassian had become. His face, his stance, everything told him that Cassian was a relic of his father's failure, and that reputation would follow both of them to their graves. Rafe tried to shake the thought, but the best he could do to distract himself was shed a tear.

His father didn't notice. He just put his wringed hands together. "I guess we're done here. But let's make one thing clear. You don't buy anymore from them. I don't give a shit if they come after you. I'm sure they have better ideas than me."

With that, he turned and walked to the door. He paused, lifted a finger at Rafe, but said nothing. His eyes were full of fury, doubt, and regret. He didn't mean half the things he said, but that was not to be discussed then.

That was for dinnertime.

*

The oak tree was the highest one in the area. Way higher than the one in front of the silo. A translucent maple liquid coated one side of the tree. It's trunks bore many ferns and leaves the color of emeralds. The clusters created a barrier of green, leaving the exact height of the tree to the imagination from standing beneath it. It was a monkey's delight.

But that was not why Val was climbing it.

Men had attacked the farm and were holding the Angels prisoner. She hated to think about Mattie strung up to the tree surrounded by gunman who wanted turned their haven into a dive. And the other children, especially Sukey and Jack, scared to death of what these people would do; horrified by what desperation bred. And poor, Darla. No one in her life ever accepted her silent demeanor with such welcomeness as she did.

Even though it was unspoken by Eve and the others, it made sense that a clear view of the roads or nearby towns which might have been safe to enter. Val didn't think too much on whether they would go try and escape through town. The cars were likely being watched, and the town was probably more unforgiving than here. But her intuition told her that if nothing else, this was a safe place from them.

She rarely stumbled now. Her hands never hurt anymore, though it was tedious to scrape all the wood, sap, bugs, or dirt that got in her fingernails, but her parents insisted on that. She'd never do tedious perfections like those. Climbing for eight years in her backyard behind her parents back, it was often an unseen hole or loose branch that halted her ascension. Now it was a loose piece of bark. She grasped with two hands and hoisted herself to a sturdy limb.

The sun pored through the barrier, which could only mean she was two layers to the top. The limbs were getting weaker farther up, but their bark wrapped into the tree's trunk, like the tree needed the limbs to survive. Like the spider she found once climbing a dogwood. The first thing that ever scared her out of a tree.

As she puled and her feet found new points to push, she thought about them. Her parents.

Like the others, they had made good and bad choices. Her father worked in an Auto Company. He dressed decently, looked like a low rent Kennedy (with a similar face) , but always asserted himself as the master of his domain. When he entered the room, an inexplicable but potent sense of respect whipped Val into sitting straight, combing her hair, doing her work, and listening to every word of her father. He seemed to pride himself on his obedient daughter.

Her mother was unemployed and less handsome, but like her father. Around her and Val, she let his defenses down, but it seemed more apparent that he treated his wife with far more adoration. In a way, she was an extra limb.

But Val was like his tailbone, bothering him when his ass met his futon each night. A limb you had, hated, but couldn't get rid of.

Whenever, her mother, it was always her, would catch Val in a tree or with injuries for birthmarks, her dad would hear of it. Always. Every time, he looked as if he was ready to beat her. Courtesy of her mother, he rarelky got the chance. 'She's just a girl', 'she needs to do her hair tonight' were the defenses she used. But when he did, he put her in the cage. If there was one thing she and her mother had in common, it was their shared enmity.

They both still gave her hell every time before she cried herself to bed, but at least most of her bruises were only natural. Probably the only nice thing her mother ever did.

When she made it to the top, she grasped the trunk with both hands as she turned. Left and right. Behind her was the barn, flanked by hills. To her 2 was the town, which looked more desiccated then the snags she climbed last fall. Telephone poles laid to their sides, still straining from cables connected to ones that remained. Buildings were too distant to be identified, but all carried the same apocalyptic design to them. To her 10 were the roads from which they came. The ones leading back to the great house, back to the sea, where no trees stood.

She sat on the highest branch she could find while looking at the horizon and landscape. Memories, fantasies, and wishes rushed through her mind. 'Shel would want to make a painting of this', 'David would be distracted', 'Jack would biblicalize it' 'Juice would admire it then turn attention to Sukey,' and 'Rafe would just stare and scoff.'

Yes they all had tough lives like her. At the great house, she noticed from the way the left the dinner table, from the mere mention of them. Her parents were no exception especially with a reserved unprofessional athlete like herself. Her silence pissed her father off even more than when she climbed. She did talk at dinner, with her mother, about her friends at school and how her grades were. Her father just ate, but it was clear that he listened. Then came the questions, which turned what should have been family conversations into interrogations. It made her sad when her parents sighed at her eccentricity, her quirky life, but she grew to care less. They didn't raise her and thus had no say in her life.

But her friends, new ones, were different. Her silent type attitude was treated as personality rather than facade. That;'s why she always felt welcome at the talks in the great house. She liked those talks. Though she stayed silent, she observed their actions, how they felt. In the midst of the 'mystery parents' pantomime, she made her own game of figuring out each of them. But she'd do it without interference. Slowly, she thought she was better as the watcher rather than a leader like before, and thought that she was seen as more amicable because of it.

Her parents never did though.

A hawk, or some dark bird emerged a few yards away from the depths of the canopy. As it got closer, Val could see no crimson or brown colors, and soon, she realized, it was because this was a crow. It came to a rest on a nearby oak, its head twitching incessantly. Val liked to watch unique animals, but the ones in the sky above all were the most fascinating.

She shifted along the branch, ensuring it was sturdy before proceeding. The crow kept its paranoid persona, every so often blinking and twitching at her. Then just as she heard a snap from the trunk, she stopped. And the crow's rapid movement did as well. It stared her in the eye.

Watching the bird, Val recalled what she heard back at the great house. It was during the time when Jack was flipping through his new book and came upon a crow. She told him what it was, since the others were evesdropping. But what she really remembered was joining them.

---

Just outside a dining room, one of many, she found Sukey and Juicy with their heads against the door. Both their legs were bent and pointing outward in preparation for a retreat. She didn't get to hear what they heard, or whose parents were in the room.

"What's the news?" She whispered as soft as she could. Juicy still sushed her, barley without looking.

"I think it's the peasant woman, she stole money from her ex husband and is using it to pay off damage done to her Honda. So immature. Things a piece of shit anyway."

She laughed and Val non verbally admitted it. She couldn't imagine how eavesdropping on their parents had become interesting, but these were strange times. And boring too, especially when it came to dinner, and the plethora of nonsensical conversations between generations. A divide so large, no amount of amiability could bridge.

Well, at least it wasn't dinner back home, where if she even once-

"Hey, Val," Juicy asked, before she scurried away. "Going to the cliffs. Wanna come?"

Val raised a brow in consideration. When they unpacked their bags, during the first dinner, which was treated like a council meeting, the parents had set the rules in stone. Most of them were expected and respected, but then the head dad, the one with a polo shirt and a cross tattoo on his neck, explicitly forbade them to go to the cliffs. Or even so much as look at it. One mother even proposed they enforce curfews. Everyone opposed the laws initially and eventually forced 'yes's.

But restriction from challenges really pissed Val off. In school she always sought challenges in math, and succeeded without her parents help. It was one of her ways of assuring herself that she was not a fraud and deserved to be punished. Climbing was no different. During a marital argument, or when things became too intense, she'd sneak out to the trees. She was always eager for a new test. These cliffs were the holy grail of her adventures, and she couldn't go. This was worse than losing her phone, worse than the talks they mandated.

However, an offer was made. One that involved breaking the rules to prove herself. Not to her parents. Of course not, but to herself. How could she refuse?

-----

The crow cawed, bringing her back to consciousness atop her near-precarious location. Sitting there ever so quietly, watching the animal who, despite its movement, looked as tranquil as the forest. And within her, it registered.

-----

"Wait. I'll come."

The pair stopped in the picture-less hallway and spun to face her with faces pale. From behind Val in the room, mumbles were heard, directed outside. Realizing her carelessness, Val leapt toward Juicy and Sukey. The door opened.

"Hey, what are you three doing?" Asked the peasant mother, her makeup making her look even more peasant-like. Two men flanked her in the doorway.

Juicy simply replied that they were getting to know each other, and were considering going to the beaches for a swim. They stared them down for a moment, and then one of the dad's agreed. The mother went to the left back to the living room. Juicy and Sukey departed as well.

"Hey, raven girl." Val didn't know what to make of that name. She didn't hate it and didn't ask for it.

"Yes, sir." She said, recognizing his authority.

He came closer and looked down. "You've been making friends I see."

She nodded firmly, meeting his ice blue eyes.

"If they ever cause trouble, just say so. These kids are just like the ones in school. I brought you here because I know you like the shore, but if you want to try again with them, just be careful."

She remembered the way her classmates would badmouth her at lunch or tease her for being a mute or the silent groans that rippled through the soccer teams every time she appeared. Her mother blamed her for her reservation but had talks with the other mothers. The advocacy that Val did not ask for only made things worse, and her father could not see.

Regardless, she nodded and walked to the hall.

"And Val." He said, his voice like a rope around her neck holding her back. She exaggerated a spin and turned to him. The dramatic gesture made him bite his tongue. But he swallowed it. Not in a guests house.

"Do you need something else." Val asked.

"You're not going anywhere I wouldn't, right?"

Val shook her head with a shrug and walked off.

-----

The crow cawed again, this time in response to distant relative in the canopy. It looked at Val one more time before jumping from the branch into a gilde and diving into the trees.

-----

As the others got dressed, Val watched them expectedly, she had already donned a sandy pair of shorts and a white t-shirt in preparation for the climb she would make. She watched Sukey pull on her swimsuits, which held tightly against her coffee body. For some reason, the fact that they were dressing in the same room, the laundry room, did not discomfort them.

After they left the front door, Juicy was there waiting for them, wearing sunglasses and a baggy green shirt. Who's he dressed to impress this time?, Val wondered.

"Hey, Val," he said, "Is it true that they lock you in your room?"

Clearly not me, she thought.

"Dude!" Sukey immediately stopped adjusting her bra and smacked him in the head.

His shoulders shot up and he nearly dropped his glasses, "Well sorry. But you heard them as well as I did. Besides, she seems fine. I mean, it's not the worst thing that could happen."

Sukey rolled her eyes and turned to Val, "You don't have to answer. But whatever happened, it's alright, okay. Just ignore him."

Val gulped and looked for a response, "No, it's fine. I think we can agree we all have our share of depression episodes, right?"

Juicy relaxed his shoulder and nodded, "That;'s what I've been saying. We're all soldiers. Nerves of steel, souls of tungsten, bones of adamantium."

Val nearly giggled, and she watched Sukey do her best to suppress a hopeless chuckle. "You idiot. Let's get down to the cliffs while they're still interesting. You're all good Val, yes?"

As the wave of warmth washed over her, she nodded firmly, "Of course."

Sukey went first down the steps and strode across the driveway with the grace of a model. She looked even more regal than Alycia had coming on the rowboat. Juicy came up beside her and matched her pace. He seemed anxious to apologize, or flirt. No one could ever tell.

"So, um, what do you think of the shore. I mean, it's not Miami or Ireland, but it's beautiful. You should see Ireland some time, it's got the best views in the world. It's probably the only place in the world I've ever gone on vacation. Not here of course. This right here is hell in paradise."

As Juicy trailed off, Val began to care less what his intentions were, or whether his rambling was simply fluid. If there was one thing she learned, it was that boredom manifests itself in different ways. So she let him talk.

-----

A drop of sweat fell into her eye, and she blinked. The sun was directly above her and she was hot. Her t-shirt stuck to her, and she didn't even want to think about how drenched her black shorts were. But she clung to the top of the trunk, watching the field.

"I don't need limbs like his. I've got fourteen better ones."

*

Days had passed since the men came and took control. Their guns, their uncompromising nature, and lack of humanity inspired fear into the children, in more ways than one. The children were prisoners and their food was confiscated. Armed men barely moved from their posts, except when night fell and they all joined in cracking open the next cans of rice and beans. The stash seemed endless when they first arrived, but their numbers made things seem more bleak.

Though their sanctuary had not changed its colors, Eve could no longer look at it the same way. She could not look at her friends who had run, and not feel sympathy for their escalating regret. She reminded herself many times of the hurricane, the repugnant libido of their parents, and their entire past in hopes that she would find the why. Why had things happened the way they did? Why was she holding this bitch? Why was Rafe sounding more and more right?

"What up Biatch?" A grisley voice said from behind her. "Looking for a friend?"

Sukey whipped around to see the red haired boy that accompanied the soldiers. A 9 millimeter was tucked in his crotch which was just begging to go off. His leg was damaged after falling victim to one of Eve's traps in the woods. And his hair was tussled, either by himself or someone. She scoffed and held the baby tighter. The boy came closer.

"Mother at 18, hm? Don't see that a lot. But I guess some of us are desperate. 'With chaos comes desperation,' my father always says."

Her left foot began to slip unconsciously more left. Before her right foot followed, he walked beside her, gazing down at the child. The starless night had filled both their eyes with black.

"What the hell you want? I don't have any food." She said in a low voice.

He shrugged, "Can't I say hello. I've noticed you don't seem to talk, except to those that want him." And he pointed.

"It's a girl, stupid. And if I wanted to hold your hand, I'd ask nicely. THat's what you've been doing, right? Asking and taking."

"What's that mean?"

This time she strode off. Unsure whether she would go to the barn, the top of the silo, or even the woods.

"Hey," he said catching up, "is that what you think? We're just some crazy assholes taking advantage of everyone? We're people too you know. And some of us are not as greedy as you think."

Sukey rolled her eyes at his immaturity, "Did you forget that your boss strung up our friend and threatened to kill?"

"We would never kill anybody. The guns are for show."

He still frowned, but his voice indicated sincerity. But Sukey knew better. She saw right through the mask. His stupidity was unrivaled. His ignorance, amazing as it seemed, was greater than her mother's. He might not have done anything yet, but he was far from an angel.

"I suppose that excuses you from taking our food and treating us like prisoners. You also tried to rape me in the barn."

As they stopped in front of the house, he seemed to consider this. He looked her in the eye.

"That's not true. I'd never. I was sent to look for your phones, or any way you might contact help. But I thought yours might be in your pocket, and I had a shitty time trying not to wake you."

This time Sukey didn't roll her eyes, instead looking back at the boy. For certain he wasn't lying, but that was only one of the things that factored into her response.

"Well, you did. And now you know we can't call the feds. God...just go away."

The baby remained asleep for the entire exchange. Neither of them took notice of it.

The boy breathed a huge sigh. "You know, you're not the only prisoner here. Just because my fathers in charge doesn't mean he's not a bastard. If I had your courage, I'd leave him too."

Her eyes swung to his in shock. Her phone was still in her pocket. Back at home, it was always on her nightstand next to her bed as regularly as a clock, mostly because it was one. That all changed at the mansion, when her mother said that they would have the opportunity to meet some very nice people and handsome boys, as if that's what fascinated her. The subsequent confiscation of her phone left her to turn to the children, who despite her cynacism, grew on her. After they escaped, and reclaimed her lost limb, she kept it in her pocket at all times.

Sukey never knew habits could be contagious, and the strongest were the ones you didn't know existed. She began to remember where she left her phone that night.

"We're didn't abandon them. We had to survive, they didn't listen. We're not like you or your father."

Another habit of Sukey's was the acute venom she used in her words when she felt targeted. She'd felt targeted many times in school by other children, and especially by adults for her recklessness, but there was hardly anyone who was smart enough to look for the real weaknesses.

The boy felt scared, but did not reach for the gun. Maybe he forgot he had it. Maybe this girl was right. He was too confused to ask his father about it. He'd just suggest a soup can or a Sam Mig for an answer.

"Say whatever you want, but they're coming with the police. So if you're going to kill us, just get on with it."

The words felt less like a dare and more of a promise. Suddenly, Sukey realized her voice was matching Rafe's. Low, but strong. Unattractive yet firm.

The boy stared at her for a moment, then at the child, then he turned and went into the house. Sukey stood outside in the breezeless night, waiting for someone to come out and attack.

No one did.

*

Rafe

As they stood together, they took notice of the field. Fall was approaching and crops would be due. They hadn't planted anything, and it didn't help that Juice and Val ran their motors across the fields all day, and so they didn't expect much. But some.

The sun meanwhile, was at its former place, but this time, to the right of the hills, where the roads met the treeline.