Brought Down

17. Walk of Shame

Julian

The dead city is endless. I can't go on anymore. My feet won't move. My whole body aches. My skin scratches like crazy, especially the legs, having had the most contact with the slime predator. There's not a drop of energy left in my body.

Yet if I stop, the things will get me. The slime isn't even the worst of them. That thought keeps me putting one foot in front of the other.

Everything is so hopeless. I can't return home. The only thing waiting for me at the end of this walk is Garrett's friends who will likely execute me for stabbing that Kano bastard - if nothing gets us before we arrive there.

Maybe I should just ask Garrett for a quick, painless death, as one last favor.

But dying is so...final. I haven't done anything important with my life. It's like all I ever had was a long and confusing preparation for a life that's never actually happened. A takeoff runway with a brick wall at the end of it.

I look at Garrett's wide back moving steadily ahead of me. The boy—Sam—keeps in pace with him, while the girl, Maggie, walks next to me. I'm not even sure for how long we've been going like that. I wasn't at my sharpest when we started. It was only after some time that I became aware of dragging myself after Garrett, and the girl walking by my side, chatting endlessly. She still does.

"Are you okay?" she says, trying to catch my eye. "Do you need anything?"

I look at her properly for the first time. I guess until now I mostly perceived her as some background noise. On a more focused inspection, she looks pretty animal-like, dirty, her clothes ragged, but her blue eyes are remarkably clear.

Do you need anything! What a question. I need water, I need food, I need rest. Most of all, I need to wake up and find out that the events of the last few days have never happened.

"Uncle Garrett," Maggie says, and I notice that Garrett and the boy have stopped and now are waiting for us to come closer. Garrett frowns at me, his hands crossed on his chest.

"Pick the girl up," he says. "Remember what I told you? We must move faster. I'll carry the boy." He bends down, and the boy climbs on his back, putting his hands around his neck.

I look down at Maggie. She's small, but I can barely carry myself right now.

She looks quickly at me, then at Garrett. "That's okay. I can walk fast by myself."

"It's not a matter for discussion," he says, straightening up with the boy on his back. "Pick her up."

It's so unfair I must carry her when even she herself doesn't want that. But there's really no fight left in me right now. I'd do anything to not be left here alone.

If I try to put her on my back, though, I will surely fall. So, I just pick her up and kind of cradle her to my chest. She's skinny but she has some weight. Her big blue eyes look at me with an uncomfortable expression. At least she's not enjoying this any more than I do. I've never held any children, have never even seen them so close. I'm not sure what to expect.

"What if she pees on me?" I say.

"Are you nuts?" her brother bursts in. "She's four years old. She's toilet trained."

Garrett frowns at me. "Whatever she does, you can't get any dirtier than you already are, so let's move."

I begin to walk. Now it's much harder, because I can't see my feet, and the ground is full of rubbish to trip over. Every time I try to look down, I'm met by two blue staring eyes.

"Can I call you uncle Julian?" she says.

"No," I say. "Can you stop staring?"

She looks away, then back at me. "Are you hungry? Is that why you're angry? People can be angry when they're hungry. I'm hungry right now, but I'm not angry. Are you hungry?"

"Can you stop talking?"

"You know," she says in a whisper, "Uncle Garrett said he'd give me another candy when we get to the factory. I'll share it with you, okay? It will be our secret."

I can't hold back a chuckle. What a state for Lord Maynard's son to have come to. Depending on four-years-old rebel children for sustenance.

After a while, I get used to her weight. At least she is warm, and after being cold for pretty much every minute of the last twenty four hours, she's not unpleasant to hold. She keeps quiet for a while, and when I steal a glance at her, she's asleep. Must have been exhausted, despite all her 'I can go fast by myself' bullshit.

I try to go more smoothly, not to shake her too much. Not that I care, surely not. It's just she will start talking again if she wakes up. Her head rests on my shoulder, her eyes closed, her body warms my chest and my arms. Her dirty face looks peaceful in her sleep.

I almost run into Garrett, who's stopped to wait for us again.

"We'll be by the factory in half an hour," he says.

"Shush," I say. "She's asleep."

He looks at me with a mistrustful expression. "You're a caring babysitter, all of a sudden?"

"It's not that. She'll talk us to death if she wakes up."

"Yeah, Sam is more on the quiet side." He points with his eyes at the boy's head resting on his shoulder. He's asleep, too, his hands hanging loosely around Garrett's neck.

We stand there for a few seconds, resting, listening to the silence of the dead city and the breathing of the two sleeping children. I feel a little surreal. Lightheaded. Maybe it's the hunger.

"Thank you for not leaving me there," I say.

He looks away. "I told you, I only needed you to carry Maggie."

"Still," I say. "You've saved my life twice in two days, so I guess I owe you at least a thank you."

The mere notion of owing anything to a dirty rebel would have sent me flying through the roof just a couple of days ago, but right now, I feel so stripped of everything but the basics. And the basics are that I'm in trouble and he's the guy who's saved my life.

"You're welcome," he grumbles, and then there's a long, uncomfortable silence, as we look away from each other.

I feel an urge to explain. To tell him I'm not as bad as he probably thinks. I could do some bad shit, true, but that's when I had no choice. With death lingering so close, it feels so important to make at least someone understand me.

And maybe it could do more. There's still the night before we get to his hideaway. Maybe if I tell him everything, he will not hate me. Maybe he will help. There's still hope.

Then, we both startle. From a side street a couple of hundred meters ahead of us, a group of people appears. It's hard to see their faces from such distance, but the first of them is clearly a woman. A big, blond woman. My heart sinks.

"Garrett!" she shouts as she starts running towards us.

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