Wilders by Cass Kim

Author:Cass Kim [Kim, Cass]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-05-09T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

“This,” Emerson gestured grandly at the large open tent set just outside an encampment made up of tiny cabins and many tents grouped and clustered together, “is the mess hall. Just in time for a little breakfast.” He led her to the back of a line where plastic bowls were being filled with oatmeal and fresh blueberries. Once they’d both gotten their bowls and plastic utensils he led her over to a small wooden table in the corner. A few people were eating and writing in notebooks, or talking in small groups. Some looked up and watched them for a moment before returning to their conversations. Much like the cabin earlier, there was no obvious metal anywhere. Light was created by a mixture of chemical glow sticks and the natural light filtering from the open sides of the tent.

He leaned across the small table and spoke between bites. “Okay, so, it’s a small community, and there aren’t many kids our age. It’s pretty much just adults. But my friend Syd will probably roll up in a few minutes to get breakfast, and she’ll be able to take you to the places I can’t.”

“Why can’t you take me?” Renna felt suddenly attached to him as she stirred her oatmeal around to let the heat dissipate. How did he not burn his tongue eating his right away?

He shrugged and said, “I don’t really like to go into the central camp.”

“’Kay.” She said through a mouthful.

“My dad wants me to keep an eye on you, though. Please don’t try to make a run for it or some crap like that. I wasn’t kidding when I said you wouldn’t be able to find your way back to society.”

“We can’t be that far from my home. I got here on foot.”

“You got here by being carried here. And on foot for us means something way different than on foot for you. Besides, I’ll just have to track you and bring you back, and I’d rather not have to be all he-man again so soon.”

Yet he’d said she wasn’t a prisoner. Renna frowned at him, watching as he scraped the last of his oatmeal onto the spoon. She thought of the injuries she’d seen before he’d put his shirt on. “Did you kill my brother?”

He jerked as if she’d slapped him. “What? No. I just knocked him out so I could get him somewhere safe. I’m not a murderer.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

He dropped his spoon into his bowl with a light clatter and leaned back in his chair, face stormy. The oatmeal was suddenly a cement block in Renna’s stomach. She probably should have thanked him for saving her, not accused him of being a murderer. She was about to apologize when he suddenly grinned and waved to someone behind her.

“Hey Syd! ‘Bout time you woke up.”

“Psssh. Says the guy who went MIA for almost a week. You come back and expect me to just be at your beck and call like I have no other friends?” Setting

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