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I know better than to be offended. The only reason he’s acting so resentful is that he’s in such deep conflict. He thought he was going to be the hero of my story, and he’s found himself the villain.
The truth is, there are no heroes left in this world, and I crave the bad parts of him more than I do the good.
He tears open drawer after drawer, grabbing various articles of clothing which he tosses next to me. I let him throw his little fashion tantrum because the alternative is him storming back into his room and ignoring me again. Which would admittedly turn me on, because this apocalypse fucked me up more than any therapist could help with.
When he’s finally done looting through the drawers, he goes to a cabinet, pulls out a box, and tosses it on the bed.
“Eat these.”
The box is filled with granola bars.
“Um…all at once?”
“If I’m going to take you out, you’re not going to be the scrawny thing you are now. Admittedly, this isn’t the best food and you’ll eat better at the Keep, but it’s what we got.”
At the mention of going outside, my heart lightens.
“You’re really going to take me out?”
“Yeah, but there’s a lot of shit we need to cover first. It’s going to take some time.”
“Like?”
“How to protect yourself.”
I nod, excited at the prospect of seeing what the world has become.
He picks up a sweater he’d previously thrown. “You’re going to wear layers. That way, if something bites you, it won’t automatically break flesh, and you’ll have a minute to react.”
“Okay…am I going to get a gun?”
“No, but you wouldn’t want to use one, anyway. The noise would attract the dead. At the Keep, you can shoot at the range, if you’d like, but in the greater world, you’ll be swinging a sword.”
“Is it hard?”
“When done correctly, yeah. Don’t waste energy. You want to be efficient with your swings. It’s better to give one firm swing to the neck than three light ones to the body.”
“Got it.”
“Didn’t I tell you to eat?”
I look at the box of granola. “I’ll eat one—”
“You’ll eat them all.”
“There’s no way—”
“You don’t get a say in this. Going out takes a heck of a lot of energy, and you look as brittle as a fawn. It’ll be days before you’re fattened up enough.”
“Are you kidding me? I weigh more than I ever have. I’m ten pounds heavier now that I’m off the diet your mother had me on.”
His face takes on a stricken expression, and I regret mentioning his mother.
“Stop looking at me like that. If you care so much about what I’ve been through, then you’ll help make sure it never happens again.”
“By putting you in danger?”
“By teaching me how to defend myself against the living and the dead alike.”
