"The food here is injected with a hormone that alters the chemical balance of our brains. When starvation ensues for too long, the part of our brain that tells us to cook our food and to dislike eating our own species no longer works properly. It happens in some faster than others. The food is all laced to maintain the population here. For those who continuously lose the food battle, they will eventually end up like this—me—or like those who attacked you earlier." His words are defining the fears I was considering. The thought of Sin attacking me, or me attacking him for survival has sickened me.
"Is there anything else you should tell me? These secrets and revelations keep popping up and taking the wind out of me, and I wish you would just share it all, Sin."
"What else is there to know? This is going to happen to you, too. Is that what you wanted to hear?" No. That isn't what I wanted to hear. I wanted to wish and hope I was strong enough not to conform to Neanderthal behaviors.
He looks at me for a long minute before standing up and grabbing some loose pieces of wood from the nearby trees. "Grab some dry leaves over there," he tells me. I do as he says and bring the little amount of brush I can find over to him, watching as he quickly starts a small fire.
"That was fast."
"Survival 101. Never took the class?"
"Afraid I missed that one," I tell him.
"Here." He tugs at my arm so I sit down beside him and he wraps one of his arms around me, shifting us so I'm in front of the fire. "Take these sticks." I place my hands around them as his hands cover mine. With a quick motion, we both continue rubbing the sticks against each other as small puffs of smoke billow off to the side. He removes one of his hands to add in some of the leaves I collected. He holds a couple of them up to the flame long enough to catch and burn along with the sticks. It only takes a few minutes before we have a decent size flame growing.
Sin grabs another stick and impales the hawk before holding it over the flame. My stomach is turning angrier the longer we have to wait and the thought of taking a quick bite as he just did minutes ago doesn't seem as revolting as it did. I close my eyes, inhaling the burning scent, trying to avoid looking at the bird. But my mouth continues to water, and my patience is gone. My starvation is more than prominent, the pains within me surging beyond the outer pains.
"This should be good enough that you won't get sick from eating this." Won't he get sick after eating it raw? He tears off one of the legs and hands to me. My mouth fills with water and I take a bite, quickly following it with several more, feeling the urging to fill my stomach at a rate that will surely make me sick. "Hey, slow down. You can't eat that much, you'll vomit it all up. You haven't eaten much in days and your stomach is not a normal size." I look at him, waiting for him to crack a smile and tell me he's joking. I want to eat as much as I can and I don't quite care about becoming sick after. Feeling full isn't something I've felt in longer than I can remember.
"I'm still hungry," I tell him, shoving more food into my mouth.
He takes the bird from my hands and takes a bite for himself. "Take a break. Trust me." Sin's eyes close as he takes several small bites. I even think I hear a soft moan escape his lips, similar to the sounds he was making when we were satisfying a different hunger, and the sound makes me want to hear it more. "This is a damn good bird."
The hunger within my stomach turns to a dull pain, a manageable pain. A type of sensation I don't remember feeling before. Maybe it's fullness, or maybe it's my body going into shock after eating meat. I haven't eaten anything like this since the pot roast Mom made the night before I was taken. The first few months I was locked in the shed, I would try to imagine and remember what the savory taste was like, how it made my taste buds tingle. After a while, though, I forgot what it tasted like. I couldn't figure out how to imagine it anymore. I have forgotten what almost everything tastes like. Nothing sweet has touched my tongue in over three years. I imagine it would hurt my teeth if I were to taste it now. I imagine my tongue wouldn't know how to react to such an incredible sensation.
There were times when I would run my tongue down the length of my arm so I could remember what salt tasted like. After a while, I couldn't taste it anymore, though. I didn't taste salt until Sin kissed me, and it made the hunger grow in more ways than I thought possible. "Do you want more?" he asks.
I take what's left of the bird and nibble along the meaty area, feeling the warmth of each bite fill the ache within me. "If we continue in this direction, we may find more, but it's getting dark. Do you want to call it a night?"
I nod my head and place the bird down against the trees behind me. "How is your head?"
"It's fine." It's not fine, but unless he's bleeding, he won't say otherwise. He grabs his bag and places it down behind him, lying down and resting his head on it. He takes my arm and pulls me with him, my head falling heavily against his chest as his arm tightens around me. "I'm sorry I left you earlier."
"It was my fault." I wanted him to leave me behind. I wanted to die. I still might want to, but as long as I'm here within his embrace, I can tough it out a little longer.
"Reese," he whispers. "I really do love you. I love you for making loneliness a little less painful."
I close my eyes, feeling a tiny smile pinch at my lips. In a world outside of Chipley, Sin probably wouldn't look at me, but here, I'm the only thing he has. He's all I have. Maybe he was right about love and it's variable meanings, and I'll take whatever this is.
Falling asleep has come easily, but only until Sin jerked his body out from beneath mine. He's curled in a ball, vomiting against a tree. He doesn't say much in between the episodes, but I attempt to rub my hand over his back, which he allows. After emptying all of the food out of his body four more times, he falls backward, clutching his stomach.
I take a piece of the torn clothing from earlier and soak it in the creek. When I return, he's groaning. I wipe his face down and press the cloth over the back of his neck. "I'm going to die," he says.
"You're going to be okay, Sin."
"No, you don't understand."
"You just need to get it out of your system," I insist.
"What if it was a trap, Reese? They can see us. They know we’re here. They know we're trying to cheat the system. They know we're trying to escape. And they're not going to let us."
