We leave tomorrow,she says, by noon, in order to harvest enough bullets before dark. I flinch. I hate harvesting, taxing on both the knees and the blood. Plus, by then, baby will be starving, our few supplies depleted and frankly the bartering of bullets alone won’t fill our stomachs. Still, I follow her, like we followed stars when there were stars. Early morning, we pack what few belongings we have, steal the ones we lack and set forth at high noon. This particular sun is vengeful and the other grounders find shelter in cement cavities and abandoned catacombs. Warily we venture above,vulnerable. The heat curses our trio heading towards the Fields, meandering around metal and bone carcasses. So hot. Heat drums incessantly at my neck. Sweat and soul release, my feet forget. I drop to my knees and look at She who carries baby. They haven’t realized that I stopped, and I can’t don’t tell them. I’m fucking done. I can’t. I love you both. I love you too Sun and I am so sorry. Forgive me. I reach down into my tattered pocket; a bullet. Probably worth a dozen seeds on the line but that it is not this bullet’s purpose. Genuflect, I force it to the back of my mouth. And press. Till I hear crack, till I crack. She turns, and her face is frantic. She puts baby on the floor and her eyes stay on me, on my body as it freezes in burning ataxia. I cry no tears. She beckons no words. I give my body up to the essence…I..I..
Hello Sun. I am yours now.