“I’m ashamed of more than I could ever put into words, but that’s not the reason. It’s… raw. The reason I’m functional right now is because I’m pretending it didn’t happen.”
My chest clamps down over my heart. My stomachchurns with heavy anxiety. “I get that. I understand. If you need to pretend, then you can pretend.”
We sit in silence for a while. I stroke Molly’s head softly when the dog leans against my knee. She’s good at picking up on moods. She must sense the emotional tension in the air right now.
“Me and Bunny—Burgundy—lived in Saint Louis before Impact.”
I stiffen when Micah starts to talk in a soft, casual drawl. He might be acting like this is nothing, but it’s something.
Something important.
I nod but don’t reply.
He continues, “I worked for… a guy, and Burgundy and I joined up with him after everything fell apart in the city. The rest of our family got killed. She was all I had. We started traveling after we ran out of food and supplies. We did pretty well. Survived and had some sort of life.”
He’s trailed off, and I’m afraid he won’t continue. I gently prompt, “What happened to her?”
He takes several long, raspy breaths. “We were… we were… traveling. Ran into some assholes who’d ganged up. They attacked.”
“She was killed?”
“I…” His face contorts dramatically. “I don’t know. We had to run. There were several of us, and I thought she was with us. She wasn’t. When I discovered she wasn’t there, I went back for her, but there was no trace of her. Anywhere.”
“What about the gang? Could they have taken her?” That fate wouldn’t be much better than death, but at least there would be a chance of her still being alive.
“They must have. I left the others to search for her.” He takes more of those pained breaths. “I searched for four months.”
“Oh my God, Micah. I’m so sorry.”
He tries to say something, but only a weird raspy sound comes out.
“So how did you get shot?” I ask.
“I was on my way back to… to my people. Ran across another gang of militia types who’d captured a woman. It wasn’t Burgundy, but it might as well’ve been.” He shakes his head with a dark look. “I got her out.”
“Oh. So that’s who shot you?”
“Yeah.”
“Are they still after you?”
“Probably. I doubt they’re actively hunting me, but they’d kill me if they find me for sure. That’s another reason I’ve got to get away from you as soon as I’m able. I’m surprised I even bothered to help that poor woman. Nothing has really mattered to me since Burgundy was lost. But I couldn’t walk away.”
“The woman made it out okay?”
“Yeah. I mean, I wouldn’t say she was really okay—who would be after living through that?—but she was safe and alive when I left her. I got her back to her family.”
“Well, that’s something.”
“Yeah. It’s something.”
“Maybe it doesn’t matter that much to you—what you did—but I guarantee it mattered to the woman you saved. What happened to Burgundy wasn’t your fault.”
“Yeah, it was.”
“What? No the hell it wasn’t. You’re not responsible for assholes who attack for no reason.”
“I know. But I am—was—responsible for keeping Burgundy safe, and I didn’t do that. I’m tellin’ you, Kat, I’m not a hero. I never was one, and I’m as far from one now as it’s possible to be.”
