His leg throbbed, but Ethan ignored the pain and the ache—more than anything, he wanted to move, wanted to get out of his room. Ethan put his left leg on the ground and his body wobbled; he shifted so that he could place his hands against the headboard and steady himself. Then he lowered his stump off the bed too and felt the gravity of his leg pull him downward; there was heaviness despite the absence and it overwhelmed his senses.
What would he do? Where would he go? To the bathroom? Downstairs? Could he prove to these strangers that he wasn’t a total invalid? But he was and he knew it, even as he tried to shimmy along the side of the bed, his leg in total agony, his hands shaking, he knew that without these people, he would die.
Ethan’s door swung open and Darla entered, waving a flashlight toward the bed.
“Ethan? Ethan?” Darla said as she tiptoed into the candlelight room. She drew in a sharp intake of air when she saw him standing on the edge of his bed, hunched over, just in boxer shorts. “Are you out of your mind?” she spat and rushed over, dumping the flashlight on the bed and tucking her arms underneath his armpits. “If you popped a stitch, you’ll bleed out. Die.”
“I don’t want to stay cooped up in this room. I’ll die of boredom,” he moaned as she helped him sit back up on the bed.
Darla rolled her eyes. “Then I’ll bring some cards the next time I come in. We’ll play a riveting round of poker. What do you want to throw in the kitty? Since you want to gamble your life, how about your meds?”
“Did you just come in here to give me crap?” Ethan asked.
Darla smiled. “Hey, I feel like our dynamic duo is suffering a bit with you being laid up in here. I came in for company, to be honest.”
“The others don’t seem like they’re riveting conversationalists,” Ethan said and he pointed to a half-finished water pouch on his desk. Darla passed it over to him.
“I’m trying to be nice to them,” she answered. “But something’s not right. I feel it.”
“Really?” Ethan asked. He was suddenly alert; he gulped the rest of the pouch.
“I’m a good judge of character, I think,” Darla said defensively. Ethan put his hands up and looked at her sidelong. “Okay, I’m sorry. It’s just…they don’t include me. That’s strange, right? And Spencer moved from the school—”
“What?”
“And the doctor and Joey went to his new house tonight. For dinner. They didn’t even tell me…and it feels off. Plus—” she paused, weighing her words.
“Spit it out.”
“I could be wrong.”
“I trust you.”
That made Darla smile; in the candlelight, she looked younger, less tired. Ethan frowned—he felt like his failing health had left her alone; she and Teddy were the closest thing he had to family now, and he had deserted them.
“Someone’s stealing. Why, I don’t know. We’re open with our resources, everyone has equal opportunities and access…but the MRE pile took a hit the other day and some of the canned goods.”
“Spencer?”
“It’s my only guess. Everyone else is here at the house. It’s got to be…but I’m lacking a motive.”
“That bastard.”
“Well,” Darla said, dropping her voice, her tone wary, “let’s not accuse him yet. He’s sneaky and a known opportunist, but why would he steal? The food is out in the open…it’s not like we’re keeping anything hidden from him. And he doesn’t have anyone to trade with anymore.”
“They’re conspiring against us,” Ethan said matter-of-factly and he crossed his arms over his bare chest. “Private dinners. Stealing our stuff?”
“Then why save you?” Darla shook her head. “No, something’s off…I can’t put my finger on it.” Then, after a pause, she smirked and added: “Ainsley’s pretty keen on you.”
“No one says that anymore.”
“It’s a new world. I’m bringing it back. You watch…all the hip kids will use it,” Darla said and smiled widely.
“No one says hip kids either.”
“Wrong again. My world is six people large; maybe you’re just not cool anymore, and it’s time to face the facts.”
“Ouch,” Ethan said with a smile. “A one-legged Adonis is always cool.”
“Adonis?” Darla roared. “I’ll give you credit for the Greek mythology reference and downgrade you for narcissism.”
“Why do you think Ainsley’s keen on me?” Ethan changed the subject.
Darla sat back in her chair. “Because I need her to be.”
“I see,” Ethan nodded once. But he didn’t see entirely.
“If Spencer’s vying for power, this is a competition we need to win. Joey’s a buffoon, but he’s a Spencer lackey. But if we keep the doctor and her daughter on our side, I like our chances. Otherwise, there’s no predicting what he can convince people to do. It’s scary.”
“Darla,” Ethan adjusted his legs and grimaced. She raised her eyebrows in reply. “What are we vying for? Why does power matter? What’s left to control?”
The question lingered and the house creaked; outside a gust of wind blew a tree branch against the siding and they turned to the noise, on high alert.
“I think that’s obvious,” she replied when the outside noises died away. Darla looked at him, her mouth drawn into a straight line. Then she crossed her arms and leaned back in the chair, her feet planted firmly on the ground.
“I’m lost,” Ethan said and he shrugged. “Spell it out for me.”
“You, Ethan.”
He still didn’t understand.
Darla continued, “Your dad knew about the attacks and the vaccines he left saved our lives…”
“So?”
“Are the pain killers making you dense?”
Ethan grumbled and slid down in his bed, rolling over and fluffing a pillow against his stomach.
“Stop pouting,” Darla chastised. “What will happen when Lucy gets to Nebraska? What will happen when your family knows you’re alive?”
“I hope they’ll come for me,” he answered.
“And when they do?” Darla asked. She paused, her eyes pleading. “What happens to us?”
The question caught Ethan off-guard and he dropped the pillow to the ground and looked straight at Darla—and she was looking straight back at him, her eyes raised in an expectant pause.
“I don’t know,” he answered, his voice small.
“You think they’ll just take us all?”
“Yes,” Ethan said almost in a whisper.
“But if they don’t…if it doesn’t go down like that…you think Spencer and whoever else he can gather with him will let you go without a fight?”
“I’ll make sure you and Teddy get to come with me. I’ll make sure of it. No one is leaving anyone behind. You have my word.”
“You won’t have a choice.”
“If my family wants to see me again, then they’ll let me bring you too!” Ethan was getting worked up and he could feel the tears coming. He shut his eyes tight. Displaying emotion wasn’t a norm for Ethan; he wished he could slip back into simple days and one-word retorts.
“Your dad may be the reason our family is dead—”
“Stop.” Ethan put his hands over his ears, like he used to when he was a child. He was trapped. Normally he’d storm out, make someone follow him, make someone continue the conversation, but on his own terms.
Darla stood up and walked over to the edge of the bed. She dropped down, her face inches from his. “Hey,” she said in a soft voice. She ran her hand along his forearm and tugged his hand free. He let his hand fall and he looked at her. “Hey. I’m just telling you…there might be a new war brewing. And you’re at the center of it. Who controls Ethan, controls their future.”
“I’m not important,” Ethan corrected. “I’m just an injured kid. A nothing.” He started to hate the way he sounded, but he couldn’t stop himself.