Page 104 of So Thirsty

I remember what Henry said. We bleed. There is blood in our veins. We have thick skin, but we aren’t impenetrable. We need to be careful; we do not have much to spare. It’s painful to lose.

“Fine,” Ms. Alice barks, tossing the keys and scooping up the two bags of blood that lie in the snow. “Get outta here. Get! But don’t come back again. I’m tired….”

Her voice breaks, and I feel sorry for her. I shouldn’t. She’s a murderous cannibal. But she’s alone. And she’s been alone for who knows how long? She could be alone forever. Maybe loneliness makes monsters of us all.

Maybe it’s no excuse.

The bland stickiness of her blood lingers on my tongue and the roof of my mouth. I’m disgusted by it, and at myself for attacking her like that. I took from her body, a body she feeds with bodies. I bit into her. I cannibalized a cannibal.

With a final cry, Ms. Alice scuttles toward the hills. I see her red eyes watching us from the distant trees.

There’s a moment of silence before Henry reaches down, picks the keys up off the ground, and says, “Let’s go.”

Elisa puts her arm around Naomi and loads her into the camper.

Ilie helps Tatiana to her feet. She brushes the snow from her legs and comes toward me.

“You are a savage,” she says, before kissing me on the cheek. I’m not sure when she had her change of heart. Not sure when these strangers started to feel like family.

She gets into the camper, then Ilie. Henry waits for me. I walk past him without eye contact, embarrassed by my violent outburst, my savagery. He sits beside me inside the camper, puts a hand on my thigh. A simple act of reassurance that could alleviate my shame if I let it.

“Everyone in?” Elisa asks from the front seat.

“We’re here,” Ilie says. “Let’s go!”

I’m fatigued from the scuffle, and I can no longer support the weight of my own head on my neck, so I rest it on Henry’s shoulder.

“Sometimes there are weirdos,” Ilie says. “Ms. Alice is weirdo. Not so good with people. In more way than one.”

“Mm,” Naomi says, shuddering. “How come she doesn’t turn someone? Make herself a friend?”

“She’s not old enough,” Henry says.

“But she’s old,” Naomi says.

“In appearance. She was turned late. Cruelly. She was abandoned by the one who changed her. Left to fend for herself. She let her thirst consume her. She still has not learned the restraint it takes to turn someone. It takes centuries to master, and it can only be done so many times. When you turn someone, you give them part of yourself. Your essence. Your soul. If you give away too much, there will be nothing left.”

I almost ask him how many people he’s turned but decide I don’t want to know.

“Right,” Naomi says.

“Why did you volunteer to stay?” I ask. “Why would you do that?”

She shrugs. “If it was gonna be a whole big thing, I figured it’d be, like, easier if I just hung out with her for a while.”

“She fucking eats people,” I hear myself say. There’s a tense pause, and I’m nauseous remembering the thick, rubbery texture of Ms. Alice’s skin as I bit down through it.

“Wait. What?” Naomi asks. “What did you just say?”

“Never mind. You’re better off not knowing.”

“You’re not going to tell me?” she says, her tone combative. “Okay. You know why I volunteered to stay? Because you don’t seem to want me around, Sloane. You’ve admitted you think all of this is my fault. And you’ve ditched me two nights in a row now. Just gone off—”

“I guess now you know what it feels like.”

“Really? Really?”

“How can you say I don’t want you around? You have no idea what I just saved you from.”