Greed

A crisp wind pierces the body of a tattered camouflage-colored tent. The opening of the tent flaps in the wind. A broken zipper lies tangled in the blood sprinkled grass below.

I drape a blood-soaked blanket over myself and pull my skeletal legs closer to my body. Ice crystals drift in the air like a cloud of smoke as I breathe. It’s freezing. I dip my head under the blanket and blow into my hands. I don’t think we can survive this much longer. A warm tear glides down my frozen cheek and slides into my mouth—a salty flavor spreads over my dry tongue.

“Mommy?” a soft voice says. My toddler, Neiwa, unearths herself from a torn sleeping bag. Her spine protrudes from her arched back, and her dreadlocks dangle over her thin cheeks. She glances up at me with glossy eyes. “It’s so cold, mommy.”

I wipe the tears from my cheeks. “I know, honey bunny,” I say with a hoarse voice.

“I’m hungry.” She crawls over to me and snuggles up to my stomach.

I glance at a figure lying a few feet from the tent. I have no choice. I sigh and stand up.

# # #

Neiwa and I sit in silence around a small campfire. The crackling fire breaks the silence of our meal. The aroma of cooked meat permeates the forest around us.

Neiwa slurps up the cooked meat and smiles at me.

I force a smile and reluctantly swallow the meat.

A low growl slices through the thick forest.

It’s back! I bundle Neiwa in her coat and lead her out of the tent. I cover her eyes as we pace past the mutilated figure on the ground. We hide behind a tree just as a black bear emerges from the forest.

The bear sniffs the air and devours what is left of our meal. It lumbers over to the figure on the ground and starts to gorge itself.

“Mommy?”

“Shh..” I say. I pick her up and jog through the forest as fast as my feet can take me. I glance over my shoulder at the blur that is the bear still feasting. My lungs burn as I continue to accelerate. My foot catches on a stone and I topple to the ground, holding Neiwa to my chest. I groan and rub my arm.

“Mommy hurt?” Neiwa asks.

“I’m okay, honey bunny,” I say as my eyes review the upturned rock I tripped over.

A chrome-colored debit card shines in the morning light. Almost drawn to it, I pick it up and run my fingers over the cold, smooth plastic. I turn the card over. What?

My full name is inscribed on the card.

This can’t be real. “Come on.” I grab Neiwa’s hand and pace absent-mindedly through the forest. We approach a remote street. I need to find an ATM. We follow the street until we reach a small town and a gas station. I insert the card into the ATM and follow the directions to check the balance.

It reads twenty thousand dollars available.

I gasp. This isn’t possible. How can I access this information without entering a pin? This has to be a fake. I click on the withdrawal button and put in five hundred dollars.

The machine made a humming sound and spat five hundred dollars’ worth of twenties into my hand.

I gawk at the wad of cash. “Oh my gosh!” My eyes dart around the gas station. “Oh my gosh, oh my gosh.”

“Mommy?” Neiwa says. “Something wrong?”

My lips curve into a grin. “No, honey bunny. Everything is going to be fine.”

# # #

The sun shines through the slotted window shades and tickles my eyelids. A warmth washes over me. I sigh and sink further into the plush bedspread.

“I haven’t slept that well in years,” I say.

A loud banging sound erupts from the door.

“Who the heck…?” I slip out of bed and walk through the hotel room toward the door. I open it.

“It’s about time!” Kenya says.

“Hey, sis,” I say.

She steps inside. “Ready to go? I’ve got the rooms ready for you and little Neiwa.” She looks around. “Where is she?”

“She’s sleeping in the other room,” I say.

“This place looks nice. How did you afford this?” Kenya asks with a raised eyebrow.

“You won’t believe this, but…”

Denver shoves us out of the way and plops down on the couch. “I can’t believe this! Another withdrawal!” she shouts.

“What’s wrong with her?” I ask.

“Someone has been hacking our accounts,” Kenya says.

“What?” I say.

“Yeah, it happened a few days ago. Someone withdrew five hundred dollars from her account. That same day, someone made a purchase at a fast-food restaurant near here, and it came out of my account,” Kenya says.

“Did you notify your bank?” I ask.

“Of course we did!” Denver says with a growl. “They said we must have made the transactions because they have a video of me taking out five hundred dollars at that ATM.”

“The workers at the restaurant swears that I was the one who purchased the food, but I know I didn’t. The same thing happened to mom, dad, and a few of our cousins,” Kenya says.

“Someone has stolen our identities, and no one in this freaking world believes us!” Denver shouts. She huffs and folds her arms over her ample bosom.

“Sure, they didn’t take a lot, but someone is stealing from us. This isn’t right,” Kenya says.

“Speak for yourself. They took five hundred dollars of my hard-earned money!”

I stick my hand in my pocket. I feel the cold, smooth texture of the card I found. “What was the first transaction?” I ask.

“A withdrawal for five hundred dollars at some ATM in the middle of nowhere!” Denver says.

“And then?” I ask. “You said it was used at a fast-food joint?”

“Yeah,” Kenya says.

“Which one?” I ask.

“Burger World.”

“Do you know what was purchased?” I ask.

“Why does it matter?” Denver asks. “The jerk got away with it. No one can trace ‘em.”

I stare into Kenya’s eyes. “Kenya, what was purchased?”

“A number three and a kid’s meal,” she says.

How can this be? Every time I use this card… it takes away from my family. I collapse on the couch and stare into oblivion.

“What’s wrong with her?” Denver asks.

“Yuri? Yuri, are you okay?” Kenya asks. Her voice fades into nothingness.

I’m a thief. I’m stealing from the very ones that are willing to take me in. What should I do? I slip the card out of my pocket and stare at it.

“I’m sorry that happened to you guys,” I say while in a trance-like state.

My sisters share a confused glance.

The silver card glistens in my hand. My eyes devour the card’s radiance. “I hope they catch whoever is doing this. How about we go out for something to eat? My treat.”

# # #

“I told you she’d continue to use it,” a figure says.

“Hmm, I guess she was weaker than I anticipated,” another figure says. She hands a small black book to the first figure.

The other figure opens the book and crosses out Yuri’s name.

“Too bad. She had so much potential,” the second figure says. “If only she stopped using the card. We would have made her wealthy beyond her wildest dreams, but now after she hits that twenty-thousand-dollar cap, she’ll have nothing.”

“Humans are all the same. They’ll never pass up free money. Even if it means taking it from their loved ones,” the first says.

“Surely one person...”

“Moving on,” The first figure says. She turns another page in the black book. “The next one is named Davvy.”

End