Born 01 - Born

the tree and try to piece together what I can. The villagers no doubt blame me for the Muriel fiasco, which is entirely my fault. Will had sex with Star and for whatever reason that makes me angrier than the guys trying to kill me. The rough bark of the tree reminds me of the last time I felt this alone. I was happier then. It was Leo and me, and no one else in the world mattered.
    I wait for the night to feel less intimidating but it never does. I want Will as deeply as I loathe him. I smile and think about Jake. His soft touch, his shy kisses, his funny smile. He is everywhere but where it matters. My heart belongs to Will.
    I am fickle in love, just like my mother. I never would have imagined her two years with me were enough to influence me. There is a place reserved for her in the back of my mind. It's a dark little corner where the things I remember about her tend to cower. The memories of her have a stain that taints them. The only untouched memory is the one of us in the hospital bed. The stain of my father's contempt ruins all the others. Long before I was born, my mother had an affair with my father's little brother, my uncle Rick. My father discovered Rick and my mother. My mother swore it meant nothing, and it would never happen again. My father believed her. He loved her, letting it fool him until she died and he was able to see things for what they really were. My mother loved two men at the same time. She never gave up my uncle to be with my father. She just kept the secret better.
    I am like her, more like her than I ever imagined I would be. I love them both for opposite reasons. I hate myself for that.
    I fall asleep against the rough bark with the images of the things I cannot change and the things I can floating around in my head.
    When I wake, I use the rising sun to navigate my way back to the breeder farm. The area is starting to feel familiar. That bothers me.
    Leo and I hike through the woods like we did before, only now I barely notice the birds or the animals. I don’t feel the freedom of just the two of us. Now I feel the weight of other people in my life. I understand the word baggage and how it applies to people. Somehow I have gained baggage in the short time I have known them all. There is only so much room inside of people for things. I see that now. I used to have room for many things. Now those things seem unimportant, and the people have taken over the limited amount of space I have.
    I hear trucks along the road and I grimace. The plan had been flawless, but I never accounted for the infected. It was a mistake. One I will never make again. As much as their numbers have dwindled, they still manage to destroy the things we love.
    Through the light of the canopy, I can see the roof of the breeder farm. I don’t have a plan. I pull my backpack off my shoulders and grab the handgun I was given by Mary when we left the camp. It's her favorite. She had said it was Australian. I smile and remember her favorite features were the seventeen rounds and silencer. Anna looked like she was going to pee her pants when Mary handed it to me. The cold polymer gun feels heavy in my hands. I grip the handle that was clearly fitted for a man. I adjust my hand to compensate for the large grip. I promised Anna I would bring it back and that she could use it. I want to keep that promise.
    I sling my bow over my arm so the quiver and it are easily accessible and put the extra clip of ammo in my pants pocket. I stuff the card that opens the locks in my other pocket.
    I leave the backpack on the ground and take a deep breath. I take my first step from the woods and feel the sickening fear inside of me subside as my instincts take over. Inside of me are animal instincts. They were born in a world I wasn’t. They take over when I need them to. They've taught me how to survive. I have learned it is the most important part of the world I live in.
    My feet crunch on the short, dry, brown grass. My eyes narrow and plan for the moment I am spotted. I move quickly and as silently as I can. I get close to the building and recognize the door in front of me instantly. It is the door I was brought to. I run along the side of the building to the place where I left the building. The huge bins are lined up. The still air stinks like a cloud that is stuck in a valley.
    My feet move quickly along the large part of the garbage lot to the staircase that leads to the door I came out of. I never in a million years imagined I