Chapter XIII - Part I

It was a chilly night. Most of the camp had gathered around the fire. It almost felt as if they were still in Sencor but there were no hopeful tales or Grandpa's croaky voice. Seventeen days since the Departure as some were calling it. Andrew wrapped a blanket around his shoulders staring into the flames and allowing his mind to wander. Andy hadn't met them by the gate. They had waited for an hour but she was nowhere to be seen. Prisoners were already escaping the city and finally, they had joined a group. They were still only a day or two from Sencor but everything seemed like a lifetime ago.
"You want some," Madden asked offering him fish. It was the only food they had had for weeks. Fish, fish and more fish. Andrew felt like turning him down but the growls in his stomach demanded otherwise.
"Thanks," he said and sank his teeth into the white flesh.
"I heard your mom say there's a healer at the next camp. We should head there," Madden suggested. Grandpa's condition hadn't gotten worse but it wasn't getting better either. Without any medicine or knowledge, there was nothing they could do. The healer would be their best chance.
"How far is it?" Andrew asked.
"Another day, I think. Rhyn said that some have already reached Carran. They must have been running or something."
"Maybe we should, too," Andrew suggested.
"Nah, and ruin the chance of being found and slaughtered?" Madden said sarcastically.
"I'm surprised they haven't already."
"Yeah, me too."
Andrew sucked the last bit of meat from the bones and tossed them into the fire. After seventeen days he was tired of the fish but he had happily eaten the tasteless soup for years. It seemed odd but it must have been the different circumstances. Back in Sencor, they had been prisoners with no choice. Here they were free or as close to being free as they had ever been.
Margaret crossed the camp with at least half the men staring after her. She tossed her dark hair aside and sat next to Andrew pulling some of the blanket from him.
"Don't keep it all to yourself," she said, her lips curved into a smile.
"Don't you have a blanket of your own?" he asked and pulled the blanket back.
Margaret sent him a half-mean face. "I do, but it's too far away."
"Your problem," Andrew replied and shrugged.
"Fine! I'll just ask some other kind gentleman in the camp to fetch it for me!" she said.
"I don't understand how they still let you use them," Madden said.
Margaret started laughing. Her melodic laugh gathering the remaining sights of men who weren't already undressing her with their eyes. Andrew didn't like the way Margaret acted. Her behavior almost got her raped once, but it didn't seem to scare her anymore. Weeks had passed and the old Margaret was back. In his mind, he often compared other girls to Eliana. She had been the most humble girl who wouldn't boast with her looks or wisdom. She had kept it all only for Andrew. And he hadn't appreciated her enough.
Soon enough one of Margaret's fanboys brought her the blanket and even added a small bowl of berries.
"That is so not fair!" Madden declared. "If I used some girl to serve me, everybody would think I was some sort of douchebag. But she gets berries."
"Don't be jealous, Maddie!" Margaret teased her little brother.
"Don't call me that, Marga-rat!"
"That wasn't even close to funny."
"And I don't think calling me by a little girl's nickname is funny!" Madden was really pissed. Margaret always knew how to get under her skin. Andrew found their fighting completely immature but also irresistibly funny.
Andrew's eyes started looking for his mother. There were about thirty prisoners in this camp, half of them men. Rhyn was sitting on the opposite side of the fire trying to talk to one of the few girls but his looks weren't doing the trick. Andrew wasn't sure if it were his eyes that were too far from each other, that repelled the girl. Or maybe it was his bluntness. Either way, he had been rejected once again.
Behind him was their new home. They had built a hut out of branches and some excess cloth. It was cold, dark and uncomfortable making him miss their Sencor house. His mother was sitting in front of it keeping an eye on Grandpa. Andrew stood up leaving Madden and Margaret to argue about whether he had secretly stolen a berry from her bowl or not. Of course, he had but he wasn't going to admit it.
"How is he?" Andrew asked.
"The same," she answered shortly. Her face was full of concerns. In Sencor she had seemed dull and emotionless but right now the burden had made her look at least a decade older.
"Thinking about Andy again?"
She nodded. "I don't know, what is it with this family. We lost your father, my sister, Rhyn's parents, then Amanda in the fire and now Andy." she sighed. "What kind of mother am I?"
"The best kind," Andrew replied and put his arm around her.
She tried to smile but it looked too fake. "And you are the best son a mother could have."
"I think she will come back," he said. "Andy's too much of a fighter to just leave us."
"She is, isn't she. Got that from her father."
"Do you... want to talk about him?" Andrew was testing his luck. He knew nothing of his father. No name, no photos, no stories or memories. Just an imaginary person he and his sisters had come up with when they were younger.
She shook her head as expected. "Maybe some other time."