Page 68 of Savagely Yours
“Even if her life depended on it?”
“It won’t.”
I regularly disregarded hierarchies and consistently disrespected this man, yet there were never any repercussions. He treated me as if he believed upsetting me would cause an explosion. However, Larke was healthy and safe, so my revenge had become more focused. If that changed, so would I.
A server duo announced that lunch was ready. Cerner adjourned the meeting, and the group headed for the dining room.
I made my way to an empty table.
No one followed.
Lunch was only for those among the upper ranks, a total of fourteen men who didn’t include Dr. Lin or Dr. Okoro. The fourteen men had created cliques like a group of high schoolers, but they all remained perceptive enough to know to leave me the fuck alone.
A third server entered, pushing a cart. Whistles and cheers rose when the room spotted the perfectly roasted quail sitting on a bed of wild herbs.
People the color of ash were roaming the streets. Society had crumbled. Life, as we knew it, had changed, and it would take decades to resemble anything close to what it once was.
Yet, we were eating quail.
A server set a plate, along with mashed potatoes and vegetables, in front of me. My potatoes had been arranged to look like a heart, and I smiled.
Mae.
Mae and I first met when, one night, I got so desperate for food that I tried to break into her diner. Usually, I’d manage to findsomethingto eat, but I’d gone days without so much as a scrap. It had felt like my stomach was consuming me from the inside out. Then, a few hours before I showed up at Mae’s, a businesswoman had offered me a few dollars to spend the night with her.
And I’d heavily considered it.
Despite the way my “parents” left me, I used to imagine that they loved me but weren’t able to provide for me. So, they’dhadto give me up.
In my mind, those mythical parents could have forgiven me for breaking and entering to avoid death by starvation. Selling my body, however, would break their hearts. Plus, by then, I’d seen too many similar arrangements go from one night, one person to multiple nights and multiple people.
Mae had overheard my attempts at lockpicking, along with my groans and sniffles of frustration. I’d been so focused on the lock that when I finally noticed her shadow in the glass front door, I fell backward and bruised my tailbone.
Twenty years ago
“I’m s-so sorry, ma’am,” I said, scrambling to my feet. “It’s not…I don’t…I’m not here for money. It’s just that I pass this place all the time, and it always smells so good. I don’t even need fresh food. I’ll eat whatever you were planning to throw away, or what people didn’t finish on their plates. I’m not picky, I promise.”
Beaded earrings dangled from her ears, and both her hands and the apron draped on top of her long yellow dress were covered in white powder. She wore her hair in a braid that reminded me of a halo, the dark plait contrasting against the silver coils along her hairline and temples.
She’d caught me in the middle of trying to steal from her, yet she didn’t look angry. I’d gotten reasonably good at reading people, a necessary skill for a street kid, and she almost looked concerned about me. But this lady didn’t know me. Why would she be concerned about a nobody like me?
“I promise I would have left the money alone,” I went on. “I’m just hungry. So hungry.”
She scanned me, her eyes glossy. “I’ve seen you.”
“On your cameras?”
I looked up.
Stupidly, I hadn’t checked for cameras.
“No, no. I’ve seen you around. You’re the boy who always stops and smells the air.”
“Because it always smells good here.”
“How old are you?”
“Fourteen or fifteen, I think.”
