The Last Legacy (Season 1): Episodes 1-10 (30 page)

“Well, he asked me to come sit with the kids. Why don’t you go talk to him?” I didn’t want to meddle in their lives, but I wasn’t going to take her crap. She clicked her tongue, still not looking at me, and handed Maggie the bag of Ruffles. She hopped up from the log we had dragged next to the fire and stormed past me towards the highway. If the kids weren’t around, I would’ve muttered ‘
Bitch,’
but I held my tongue.

“So, what did you guys want to do today?” I asked the two kids, preserving my mood. Maggie acted much like her mother, standoffish even for an eight-year-old. Marcus fit in better, blending with the guys and wanting to help around our little camp. At eleven, maybe he understood more.

“I really want to practice with a knife,” Marcus said as he threw the empty chip bag on the fire. Scarlet sat up from the log and glowered at the fire. The wind changed, making the gray smoke pour right over her. She pulled her jacket over her face and lay back down.

“Have you used a knife before?” I asked him, thinking this was something I could actually help with. Jim had taught me a bit, but mostly I learned through experience. I thought I was pretty good with the knives by now.

“Yes,” he answered. Maggie shook her head beside him, smiling down into her bag of chips. He reached across the fire and stole the bag from her hands.
 

“Mama won’t let him touch knives ‘cause she thinks he’s dangerous with one,” Maggie spoke up, her voice innocent and squeaky. She smiled and then looked away from me, hiding behind her brother.
 

“Mama won’t let me ‘cause she doesn’t wanna believe that the eaters are mean. But Daddy told me I could when I was with an adult.” Marcus looked up at me with those puppy-dog emerald eyes, and I struggled to find a reason not to let him practice. His mom was clearly in denial.

“Eat breakfast and drink some water. Then I’ll let you practice a little on a tree or something.”

“Thank you!” He leaned towards me and wrapped his arms around my shoulders, squeezing me tight. I laughed as he released me and devoured Maggie’s bag of chips while she sat with a scowl on her face.

“You better be careful,” Scarlet whispered through her cover. She peeked out from under the shirt.

“I’ll watch him,” I told her, nodding to myself.
 

Marcus stood behind me as I threw my last BareNaked bag into the fire, the grains completely gone now. My heart fell as my stomach did, too. We’d have to start moving again, or hope that the guys found a supply of food. Otherwise we’d be right back where we were two days ago. Food-less.
 

I jumped up from the log and left Scarlet watching Maggie, who wanted nothing to do with the knifing lesson. I had to distract myself anyway from not having food. Marcus was a great diversion.

I found a very thick oak tree, not too far off from camp. The fire remained visible from where we were, and I knew I could hear if something went wrong. Marcus stopped beside me, staring up at me with wonder. He really was a cute kid. Yesterday, he had helped all of the guys cart logs to the fire. And he never even complained.
 

“Well, this is my knife.” I pulled out the long-handled knife from my back pocket and laid it in my hands, letting his eyes roam over it. “It would be too large for you, but it’s okay to practice with it—I think. I need you to promise me that when you have the knife in your hands, you will listen to every little thing I say.”

“I promise,” he answered too fast.

“You need to understand the seriousness of my words. If I say drop the knife, you don’t think, just drop it. If I say to hold it a certain way, you will listen. Do you understand now?”

“Yes.” He nodded his head a hundred times in a row.

“Would you like to hold it?” I asked through my wide smile. This was a serious conversation, but the way he stared at me, answered my questions—it was just too much to handle. He nodded again, his cheeks bunching, eyes squinted. I spun the knife around and passed it to Marcus handle first.
 

“Is this right?” he asked as he bounced it a little in his palm.
 

“Yup. Always handle it with care. You don’t want there to be an accident.” I grabbed his elbow and positioned him so the knife was a little above his chest, pointed forward. His grip was loose, so I wrapped his fingers around it, tightening his hold.
 

“Very lightly, stab the tree so I can see what feels natural to you.”

“It doesn’t really feel normal now.”

“I think it’s because the knife is so big.” There was nothing I could do about that. I had the smallest hands in the entire group, other than the kids, and I knew nobody else had a knife that was smaller. His fingers barely touched at the other end of the handle.

He walked towards the thick tree and jabbed at it, knife forward, arm straight. It wasn’t bad for a little boy, but he would hurt himself that way. I knew that his technique wouldn’t work for an eater, so I waved him back.
 

“Eater’s heads are the only way you can—”

“What the fuck is going on here?”
 

I spun around and before I could even see who was coming at me, a hand slapped across my face—or punched me. I wasn’t sure. The hit was so hard that I thought I blacked out for a moment. Someone tugged me backwards, arms around my waist.
 

“Mama, stop!” Marcus shouted from behind me.

“You’re teaching my kid to use a knife without my permission?”
 

I cradled my heated face in the palm of my hand as I looked up into the eyes of a very pissed-off Margaret. My mind was fuzzy, I wasn’t sure what had happened. Pain vibrated from my already swelling cheek to my forehead and down my neck.
 

I didn’t know what to say to her, so I remained quiet. She reached around me for Marcus, who refused to go with her. “Leave me alone, Mama. Lana was helping me learn!” He ran to the other side of me and grabbed onto my waist.
 

“Go with your mom,” I told him, not wanting to get slapped again. I saw the glimmering metal in his hand so I took the knife and put it in my back pocket. I was getting really fucking tired of being slapped. I panted, my blood boiling and filling me with adrenaline.
 

I reached with my empty hand and gave Marcus a little push in the direction of his mother. He stared up at me, his eyes glassy with tears and his lower lip pouty. I just shook my head.
 

Margaret grabbed Marcus by the back of his shirt and dragged him behind her. I watched them retreat, and then Margaret turned towards me, her face twisted into a scowl.

“Don’t ever come near my son again,” she growled.

“Then you teach him!” I called back out. I wanted to tell her how her kids were going to die because she wouldn’t learn to survive.

“What I do with my children is my business alone.”

“You’re in denial.” She stepped towards me, but Marcus tugged her arm, making her stop. She glanced down at him and turned around and went back to the fire. She sat before I had a chance to shit talk.
 

I was left frozen in my spot, unsure of how to move forward. I didn’t want to go sit around the fire with the tension pulsing in the air. I couldn’t face that woman after what she did to me—for no reason! I got it, he was her son. But he’d be safer if he knew how to protect himself.
 

I walked to my tent and zipped myself inside. I wouldn’t let her make me cry, but fuck if my face didn’t hurt. I grabbed a clean shirt from my bag and rolled it into a ball, creating a makeshift pillow. It wasn’t even cold, but I zipped myself into my sleeping bag, wanting the darkness it brought.

I shouldn’t have given Marcus a weapon. I knew that. But he wanted to learn. I didn’t think it would hurt that he figured out how to use a knife. I wasn’t telling him to kill people. He practiced on a damn tree! I only had his best interest at heart. Maybe now he’d be better against eaters, should he have to kill.

I didn’t get it. I didn’t get why she was so against the changes. We didn’t have a choice. Sure. I wouldn’t want to kill an eater. But I’d rather go against one knowing how to defend myself over being ignorant.
 

The tent unzipped, and I squeezed my eyes shut. A large body snuck in, huddling beside me. We barely fit on a normal night, so as he crept down and spooned me, I couldn’t help but be wrapped in his arms.

“What happened?” he asked as his fingers combed through my knotty hair.

“I was teaching Marcus how to use a knife, and Margaret got mad.”

“How mad?” His fingers trailed down my temple, right over my swollen cheek bone. My body tensed as I winced right where her fist had connected. It still burned, throbbing steadily. “Turn over.” I didn’t have it in me to argue, so I complied.
 

“It’s not so bad,” I said despite the fact that I was wavering on the edge of my sanity. I hadn’t cried yet, but I was one blink away from unleashing a storm of tears.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, his eyes sympathetic as they turned down.
 

“You’re getting better at that.”

“I guess I’m apologizing a lot.” He smiled and leaned down, kissing my lips. His scruffy cheek brushed against mine, and it burned, but the kiss was well worth the pain.
 

“I have to tell you something—”

“Jim!”
 

We both shot up.

“Something’s wrong with Kev!” Scarlet shouted from the fire.
 

Jim moved faster than me, unzipping the tent as I maneuvered out of the sleeping bag. When I crouched out of the tent, I saw Kev convulsing on the ground. My breath caught in my throat, and I ran to him.

Kev’s body shook in violent jerks. His legs flailed up and down in long and hard movements. Nobody dared to get close. Tears streamed down my face, and I did nothing to stop them.
 

“Get his legs, I’ll get his arms!” Jim shouted as he passed by me.
 

Mike and Gabriel sprang into action. I couldn’t stand by and do nothing. I wrapped my arms around Scarlet as she sobbed, heavy tremors wracking her body. We stood over Kev’s body.

“He’ll be okay,” I told her even though I knew it was far from the truth. He was changing, becoming more infected. I guessed I didn’t really understand how this all worked. I didn’t think any of us did. But from the seizures dominating his body, I knew he was dying.

Kev screamed as Jim grabbed his shoulders and pinned him to the ground. Whatever happened to him appeared painful—his face twisted in agony. With each jerk, he cried out. Gabriel grabbed one of his legs, while Mike got the other. Margaret stood off to the side with her hands over her children’s faces, blocking them from the sight.

“Lana, I need you,” Jim said without looking up. I let go of Scarlet and knelt down beside Kev. “Distract him. He’s having a seizure. Talk him down.”

“What about Scarlet?”

“She’ll only upset him more.” I looked over my shoulder at Scarlet’s rigid form. Her cheeks were beat red, wet with tears dripping down. She huddled into herself, her arms over her chest, biting one of her fingernails.

“How do I help?” My voice came out frenzied, even to my own ears. I shook my head and swallowed the lump in my throat, trying to think of reassuring phrases. I had to be the strong one here. Jim got up, leaving me alone with him.

“Hey, Kev,” I whispered as I swept my hand over his face. His eyes were completely white, the irises rolled in the back of his head. I couldn’t tell if he was conscious or not. “Scarlet, pass me a rag. He’s burning up.” I called over my shoulder, knowing she hadn’t gone far.

“Kev, come back to us. Look at me. I promise, you’re okay. This is nothing—no big deal. Kev, come back, okay?” I bit my lip, hoping the pain would distract me. I had to remain calm. I couldn’t fall to pieces. His arms crossed over his chest. Every few seconds, his body tensed, making him groan.

Scarlet tapped on my shoulder, passing me the wet rag. I pressed it to Kev’s overheated forehead, hoping that would make him more comfortable. While his body ran hot, he shivered like he froze.