The Invasion

8 | Scavenge

"You're kidding."

Matteo's outburst catches us all by surprise. He stares at Charles in disbelief, but Max quickly pulls him to the corner and shoots him a warning look.

Charles clears his throat loudly. This is the cue for the rest of us to disperse; he and George shifts to the side, deep in discussion. Mom and I head back to the rations. Emily remains with Clara and Mia, and the two women try to get the poor girl to rest.

I bend down to organize the canned food and water bottles, trying to occupy myself with whatever work I can find. A few feet away, the brothers are still exchanging words in almost inaudible whispers. They think we can't hear them, but I can from where I am at. Snippets of their conversation reach my ears.

"Seriously? Are we risking our lives for a little girl? But we don't even know her."

Thankfully, Max is the wiser one. "And what? Watch the little girl die in front of us?" he grunts. "Look, Matt—I know you're terrified. So am I." Dropping to a low whisper, he tells his brother. "But if we don't cooperate, don't you think we'll be kicked out?"

I freeze, realization sinking into me.

What Max says isn't wrong. Everything is all about survival now. I've watched so many dystopian movies in the past. It's all about survival of the fittest and bringing out the worst in humans.

Greed. Betrayal. Selfishness.

So Mom and I need to be careful.

Matteo cannot find words to retort. I watch as he eyes the shotgun slinging over Charles's shoulder. Something dark gleams in his expression, cold and calculating. Seconds tick by before he finally tears his gaze away, but it lands on me next.

I drop my head quickly, pretending to rummage through the toolbox that Emily has brought out from the backroom earlier. I can feel his dark eyes on me, burning through the skull of my head.

He has most definitely caught me watching them. Frankly speaking, I'm a little scared, but I'm curious to know what's running through his mind.

From my peripheral vision, Matteo shifts his weight and snaps his head back to his brother. Grunting, he grits his teeth and jabs a thumb behind him, where the stairs leading to the top sit. "Whatever, but I'm not going out there again."

"Then you don't," Max decides firmly. "I'll go, and you stay here to protect the rest."

Matteo scoffs, but comments no further. Regardless of his disturbing attitude, a part of me understands his refusal to leave this place and head back into the hellhole. What's the likelihood of us surviving if we are out there? Unless we have superpowers, none of us stands a chance against the speed and size of those creatures.

But Mia... Poor Mia. A five-year-old kid doesn't deserve to suffer like this. If we leave her be, she'll die.

Mom places a hand on my shoulder, looking at me as if I'm a different person. She offers me a smile, one that doesn't completely reach her tired eyes. Her voice is quiet. "Delia? Are you alright? Do you want to talk about it?"

My silence is scaring her. My tone is usually full of life and humor, but now, it just comes out flat and dull. "I'm fine, Mom. Just confused about everything." I scan around us, making sure that nobody can head us, before leaning towards her. "But Mom, what exactly are those creepy things?"

Mom shakes her head at me. "I don't know. I've never seen them before."

I gnaw on my bottom lip, thinking hard. "Do you think that he's back? Maybe he's coming back for us?"

"Delia!" Mom cuts me off with a frightened look. She casts a quick glance over her shoulder, but nobody's paying us any attention. She turns back to me again, her voice grave and hushed. "Do not speak a word about this again. Promise?"