"I hate everyone."
"Except me, right?"
"No, especially you."
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It's funny, isn't it? That when the whole world decides to become infected with a brutal and fatal virus, the real monsters are the ones still alive? Blake Finnegan lost most of...
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MARS HAS BEEN GONE FOR TWO NIGHT AND ALMOST THREE DAYS. Which is the negative. The positive, is that EVA hasn't found us before we take them to war like this is Game Of Thrones - or maybe we're just so insignificant they haven't been looking for us. Which...is actually kind of scary.
But they don't know how many people we have. I have to remind myself.
Then again I do know how many people they have. And it was a lot.
Maybe if my mom just got over herself and took the rest of ACE to join us...we'd match in numbers. Maybe if she just understood that it doesn't matter how long we don't fight EVA, eventually they'll want to take out everyone.
Not to mention they have an immune girl now. If they're able to do something with Mars...I mean I don't even want to think about it - but they could be taking out getting infected as an obstacle, something we don't have.
"I don't believe you." Daisy is saying, snapping me out of my thoughts.
Petra is talking about the whole highway to hell situation when we were practically being chased by a group of monsters and climbed up a fallen net like Indiana Jones.
Daisy, never really the believer, has been challenging this statement for the last twenty minutes.
"It's true." I say, popping a chopped piece of carrot into my mouth. We're sitting in an old and not very sturdy picnic bench deeper into the forest surrounding our new camp - and although I don't know where the fuck to find weed, this is definitely a zone where we'd have a good sesh.
"How have none of you been bit!" She exclaims.
Funny story, I almost want to say, Mars has enough bite marks for all of us.
I love the girl and will do what I can to get her back safely - but I'm still upset she told Blake, Gray - Vee and Seb?! - before she even thought to tell me.
"Luck." Petra shrugs, "I mean also there was no way I was surviving being a sex slave for years in a foreign country, escaping it, and then just getting bit."
I'm used to her bringing it up. It's not normal, but it's easier to hear - less awkward. The only part that isn't easy? The actual rage that suddenly fuels my veins. The way I pull my hands into fists and the bitten barely there nails still find a way to delve deep into my skin.
And then there's the fact those men that did that to her are still out there. Sure a few of them are dead, including the ones she injured, but when we found Petra she told us not all of them where there. That they'd just up and left.
I pray. I actually pray they've suffered ugly demises. Maybe something poetic like burning to death together trapped in a house. Or something gruesome and bloody. If only there were a way to do both.
