Saturday, 16 May 2009 - 10:21 pm

Tearing down decorations

Ben is worse today. He’s feverish and murmuring, and it looks like we won’t be going anywhere soon. Thorpe is watching Ben for me, so I’ve got a little time to post now.

The others spent most of the day scouting out for supplies – we were nearly two days without water after the Pride took our supplies, and we wound up eating cat food. It’s not an experience I’m eager to repeat, but surprisingly less unpleasant than I had expected it to be.

We’re settled in an empty house now. We took down some of the Christmas decorations, because it’s all getting a bit weird. Like the world is stuck on the day the bomb went off, growing colder and dimmer every day, dying gradually under us while the clock forgets how to tick.

I’m trying not to think of this house as the place that Ben is going to die.


We’ve seen the Pride only once since we ran away from them. They passed by the basement just before the rain came, on our own scooters. I wasn’t the only one who felt furious at that: it was a reminder of everything they took from us.

No-one did anything, though. We huddled by the high windows and watched, holding our breath as they scanned the area on their way through. They weren’t trying very hard to find us; they probably thought we were hours away by then. None of us sought to disillusion them.

To my surprise, I saw a familiar face travelling with them. Paige, the girl who told us her story just a few days before, was riding with them. The one who stayed with us that night and listened to our tales. She pointed us towards the mall when we asked if she’d seen Alice; now we think she was sending us into her group’s jaws. She wasn’t wearing the Pride’s tag and I’m not the only one feeling betrayed by that. Perhaps she was only doing what she needed to to survive, serving her group, but I can’t quite bring myself to be okay with that.


I still don’t really know how Sally is. I tried to talk to her, but she won’t open up to me – she just keeps saying that she’s fine and I shouldn’t worry. When I asked her about the baby, she paused before she said that she thinks it’s okay; that was the most honesty I got out of her.

She didn’t tell me off for opening my mouth to the doctor and I haven’t apologised for it. If nothing else, it made him go check her out.

Masterson still isn’t talking to her but he is sticking close; I don’t think he’s been more than a few feet away from her since I shouted at him. She doesn’t do much that he isn’t keeping an eye on, even if he is grumpy and growly about it.


I hear Ben calling again. I’m not sure who he’s calling for but Thorpe looks helpless – I’d better go and lend a hand. I wish this headache would go away.

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