“Oh…er…hi. I didn’t see you there…” she mumbled. “Twix?” She held out the second bar with a small pang of regret.
“Hell yes,” Alex said. He dropped the pile of sheets on the bed and sat on the cream-and-brown swirled carpet next to her. “Thanks.” He took the precious Twix, balancing it lovingly in his fingers. He had musician’s hands, long and fine.
They sat, side by side, and munched away in contented silence.
It was weird. After an entire year of avoiding Alex, in this moment, there was no one she would rather be with. Even in this godforsaken hellhole, he made things feel normal—better.
“So, what do you really think about the shelter?” she asked at last.
“I don’t know.” Alex rubbed his nose thoughtfully. “I mean…it’s good. It’s a great idea and all, you know… It’s just…”
“It’s okay. I get it,” Ana cut in. There were a thousand ways it could go wrong. She didn’t want to hear all the potential flaws in her plan—she was already stressed enough. What if it failed? What if everyone piled into the bus and it exploded anyway? Or if they got trapped there, out in the open, and cooked to death? It would all be her fault. She bit her lip nervously.
“I keep thinking about Benny,” Alex said. His face was turned away from her, towards the open door. “He thought it was all a prank, didn’t he? He had no idea he was actually going to…” Alex’s profile was outlined against the blisteringly blue square of sky through the doorframe. His hair had flopped forward; he chewed his lip, searching for words. “I just wish…I wish I’d said something more. We shouldn’t have let him go, Ana. We should have stopped him.” He crumpled up the Twix wrapper and threw it at the wall.
Ana didn’t say the usual platitudes;he made his choice, he didn’t suffer, it was quick—all the things people tell themselves to justify the incomprehensible. It was too soon—the shock was too real. They had just watched Benny die, right in front of them. They were hurting and she couldn’t fix that.
Without thinking, she leaned over to Alex and wrapped her arms around him.
Alex dropped his head towards her and buried his face in her hair. She closed her eyes and breathed in his warm familiar scent. Alex.
They sat in silence, pressed against each other as though the world might, just for a moment, fuck off and leave them alone.
Ana felt a mess of words, thoughts, feelings. It was overwhelming. The fear of the last few hours and of what might come next was mingled with something else, something she couldn’t understand. It was like a small fire was burning inside. Hope? Love? She didn’t know, she couldn’t read it. But as she held Alex, she felt it. There was a deeply buried strength that was stirring in her heart.
They would make it. Somehow. They had to. This feeling couldn’t just disappear. It was too powerful, too pure. It had to be enough.
Didn’t it?
“There’s something I can’t get out of my head.” Alex spoke so softly that for a moment, Ana wasn’t sure if she’d even heard him. “I keep thinking that it should have been me.”
Ana let go of him and pulled back, studying his face, his eyes. Was he really saying that?
“I mean, if you’re talking about guilt, about who deserves to die first, I’m right up there. I should have gone. I should be next.” He said it too quickly, giving himself away. He’d obviously thought this through.
Ana felt a flash of irritation at him. It was hislifeat stake. He couldn’tjust give up like that. He had to fight if he was going to make it out of here.He had to.
“You know it wasn’t your fault,” she said.
“Wasn’t it? I mean, let’s be real, Ana. A year ago, Karl Hunt drove up to the gym in his truck, playing Trash Dogs at full volume, singing along to my song, ‘Burn.’ My song, Ana. Not Danny’s or anyone else’s. A songIwrote, the wordsIwrote.”
“What Hunt did was on him and no one else. He wanted to die. Your song…those were just lyrics. You’re not responsi—”
“I will burn you down. You will scream my name. There’s nowhere to run from me. Your blood will turn to flame… Ana, how am I not responsible?”
“It was just a stupid song. You didn’tmeanfor anyone to get hurt.”
“I dunno. Maybe I did?” Alex mumbled the words so quietly Ana barely caught them. “When I wrote those words, I was thinking about my dad and what he did to my mom and me. My head was really messed up about stuff. I wanted to hurt him, like he hurt us. I had so much anger, just like my dad. Ana, I think I’m like him. I think maybe inside I’m the same. Bad.”
Ana slipped her hand into his without thinking.
“You’re not like your dad, Alex. You’re the sweetest, kindest person I know. But you’re also human. You’veneverhurt anyone, even if you wanted to. Yeah, you wrote a song about it, an angry song. But that’s not weakness or a sign that you’re bad. That’s a good thing to do. You turned your anger into music. That’s strength. Your dad couldn’t have done that.” She faced him, her bright eyes intense. “What Karl Hunt did with your song. That’s on him. Not you. Alex, you can’t blame yourself.”
“But I do. My song, my words, my anger…they meant something to Karl, they inspired him. People died because of it. How can I ever forgive myself?” Alex looked directly at her. “Iamguilty, I deserve to behere, and maybe…I deserve to die here.” She could see the guilt in his eyes, like a reflection of her own guilt. They stared at each other, words lost between them.
This was the moment. Ana knew it. This was her time to tell him the truth about what had happened a year ago, about what she’d done. The reason why she had been brought here. Why, if anyone deserved to die, it was her. She faltered. Her mind struggled to find the words.
“Alex, there’s something I need to tell you.” She could do this. He needed to hear it, to understand that what he’d done was nothing; his own guilt and shame paled when compared to hers. She pushed herself to speak. “You’re not the only one who feels guilty for what happened. All of us were brought here for a reason. You just don’t know what the rest of us did, not yet.” She stared out of the doorway, across the enviable emptiness of the desert.
