GREEN [complete]

CHAPTER 31: Sekam

Down the road from the hospital, a pale yellow house stood behind what used to be a white picket fence. Flakes of white paint speckled the dead grass, and many of the pickets jut off at awkward angles. The door was marked with neon green, but light shone through the cracks of one of the boarded windows.

Sekam threw herself out of Bek's truck as soon as they stopped, landing on her hands and knees on the weathered asphalt. They'd gone less than five blocks, and her stomach roiled like she'd eaten something rancid. The feeling took several seconds to pass, but in the end, she kept the contents of her stomach where they belonged.

"I'm sorry, doll," Bek said through a grimace. "You probably haven't ridden in a car before, have you?" She reached down to help Sekam up.

Sekam shook her head, not quite up for talking again yet. She accepted Bek's hands and let the woman haul her to her feet. Her stomach turned over again and she leaned into Bek's truck, closing her eyes tight and taking one deep breath, then another.

"It's okay," she finally managed. "I'm okay."

"That's good. Are you up for going inside?"

Inside. Again. More walls, less air. "Not yet."

Bek patted her shoulder. "You stay out here. I'll be back in a minute."

The door opened, a woman sucked Bek inside with a delighted hug, and the door closed again. The 'minute' lasted far longer than a minute. Shadows moved through the cracks in the window, and excited conversation droned behind the wall. It took Sekam's stomach nearly ten minutes to fully settle, and Bek was still inside.

She was anxious to get moving again. She had been confined to the town for too long, unable to do anything but watch and wait. That wasn't good enough. She was supposed to be saving the world, not sitting in a hospital room as someone else fixed Mars. Now that she had a task—something that she could do to help—Sekam could see her path again. It was faint, but it was there. And it started when Bek left the yellow house and they joined Ahl at the edge of town.

When Bek came out of the house again, she wore her old grin. The genuine one that had never seemed to leave her face before they visited the hospital. Her friend was nowhere to be seen, but Sekam didn't mind. She didn't need to explain to anyone else that she wasn't a mongrel.

"Lila is happy to take care of my flowers for a few days," Bek said.

If Bek thought it was going to be just a few days, she wouldn't be leaving them behind. Sekam knew it, and Bek knew it, but neither of them said anything. "That's good," Sekam said instead.

"Now, I just need to grab a few things and we can head out." Bek ducked into her truck and pulled the seat forward. "Battery pack. Cooler. Water. Snacks." She piled her supplies on the road beside her, and when she was done, she looked them all over and said again, "Battery pack. Cooler. Water. Snacks. Looks like it's all here!"

Sekam touched her guns to reassure herself they'd been returned. When she was satisfied, she said, "Do you want me to carry anything?"

"That would be fantastic. Can you get the battery pack? I can fit everything else in my backpack. Oh! Backpack!" Bek ducked back behind her seat and snatched her backpack. "There we go. That should be everything." She punctuated her words with a laugh that was intended to be genuine but came out pale and nervous.

Sekam grabbed what she assumed was the battery pack and tucked it beneath her arm. She was surprised to find it so heavy. "Why are we taking this?"

"My insulin needs to stay cold."

"Why ... do you need a battery pack?"

"It plugs into my cooler, in case things get too warm." Bek tossed the last sealed container of food in her backpack and zipped it closed. "Just a just-in-case thing. I like to be sure."

Their journey was a quiet one. Ahl carried them away from the town at an comfortable gallop. Deep in the valley, the river accompanied them, tickling the edge of the road, then diving away into tickets of cottonwood and aspen. It was the only other source of noise for three hundred miles.

Ahl followed the long, hideous road that marred the landscape deep into the mountains. Cold shimmered over Sekam's skin and Ahl's heavy breaths came out in gusts of warm fog. Bek wrapped her arms tighter around Sekam's waist, trembling with the kiss of the mountain air.

Sekam loved it. Wind rushing through her hair and cold dancing over her skin, she felt so close to the remnants of what her world once was. She felt free, and the wildness inside her begged to be set free; to roam these mountains as it once had. But that all ended when the city in the mountains blotted out the sky.

Ahl's gallop slowed to a plod and he lifted his nose to better look at the wall that surrounded the city. "This is what you want to do?" he asked, his voice a low hum. "You're sure?"

Sekam pushed her fingers through the thick hair over his shoulders, both to ground herself and to in a weak attempt to comfort him. "I'm sure."

"Bek?" Ahl looked around at her, the stars in his eyes glittering against the snow that surrounded them. He let hope sneak into his voice. Maybe he thought she would be easier to convince.

Bek's warm smile was met with equally warm words. "Dear, we'll be just fine."

"Very well." Ahl lowered himself into the snow, letting Sekam and Bek off. "You take care of her for me," he said, softer than Sekam had ever heard him speak.

"I will," Sekam promised.

"Not you."

Bek adjusted the straps on her backpack and double-checked her zipper before she acknowledged him. "Me? You're talking to me?"

Ahl nodded.

"I ... I don't know if I'm—"

"You take care of her for me."

She nodded, her afro bouncing with the exaggerated movement. "Will do."