The Price

“To remind you how important love is.”

That was what her mother had told her when she had given Kenna the locket, before the world had gone to hell. Before people had let their greed take everything down.

Everyone left alive blamed the bombs, the fallout, the gangs that rose in place of organized government… but none of that was to blame, not really. As far as Kenna was concerned, it was sheer greed that guided those fingers to press the buttons that launched the weapons. Greed had caused the deaths of the land, the animals, the crops... And the people.

So many people.

Her mother lived by that sentiment until the end. Even when the first wave of attacks had dropped a building on her father. Even when they had been taken in by what should have been a shelter but ended up being a well-disguised bio farm instead. Even in those last painful moments.

The gravel beneath her crunched as she shifted her sitting position, smacking one side of her abused backpack as if that would magically turn it into a top-of-the-line lumbar support from the before times. She’d taken up residence in what had once been a stable to try and wait out the night, the last leg of a long journey, and while the floor was hardly comfortable, it was sheltered from potential windstorms and distanced enough from the township a few miles away to make her confident in her safety. Confident enough, anyway.

She still hadn’t been comfortable with the idea of starting a fire, in case anyone should see the smoke, but she had a single candle to give her some light. It flickered dimly over the gleaming golden heart of the locket as Kenna held it in one palm, just staring at it as she had taken to doing lately when she couldn’t sleep. Smudged with dirt and calloused from the years on the road, the hand cradling the pendant didn’t look worthy anymore. The thought made her heart ache.

Would her parents be proud of the person she was now? Survival wasn’t for the weak and she had done some things that still haunted her. Could she have made any other choices along the way, though? Who could really tell.

She pressed a fingernail into the seam and popped the locket open to look at her parents’ smiling faces.

“I’m almost there. When I get to the Heartland I can be me again,” she promised them softly.

The Heartland was supposed to be the most stable community in the country. Located in the south of what had once been Kansas, it was supposed to be a place where everyone was working together to rebuild, to reestablish some semblance of civilization again. It had been her destination since the beginning, even when her mother was still alive. If she could get there, stop fighting to survive every day and become part of something bigger, she could finally put away this Kenna and revive the old one. At least, she hoped so.

After all this time, she was nearly there. She’d made it to the outskirts of the Hub, the closest thing there was anymore to a big city. It was incredibly dangerous, too, to be around so many people who were all willing to turn on you in an instant, but it was the best place to trade items. That, and the only place except for the coasts which had working transportation. That’s how she was going to get to the Heartland. She’d gotten rid of almost anything of any value over the years, but she had collected enough in what was valuable—canned goods, medical supplies, and more—to buy herself a one-way ticket. That ticket sat next to her now, in the form of a duffle bag that was heavy as sin but worth the haul for what it would get her. The only other thing she had that was worth anything was the locket.

A sound outside had her immediately on high alert. In one quick, fluid motion, she had stuffed the necklace into a pocket and pulled out the hunting rifle she always kept on her person. Scrambling to the nearest window, she intentionally snuffed the candle with a well-placed kick of dirt and propped the barrel on the window ledge as she searched the darkness for movement. It took her eyes a moment to adjust, but finally she spotted him—an older man, clutching his side and limping toward her cover.

Not good. If he was being followed, she wasn’t sure she could defend herself against more than two or three. Not with her limited ammunition. If he was alone, it still wasn’t good. He could have seen her light, could be pretending to be injured to get her to lower her defenses. Too many possibilities. From what she could tell, he hadn’t spotted her yet. The smart thing to do would be to shoot him now, and let the coyotes she had been hearing deal with what was left. Maybe it was the sentiment she had pulled herself out of just moments before, or her mother’s words still echoing in her head, but she hesitated just a little too long.

The door to the stable opened and she dropped to the floor, sliding so she was against the separator between the stall she was in and the next. She did her best to slow her breathing to an inaudible level, which was made all the more difficult by her heart attempting to pound out of her chest from adrenaline. Somewhere in one of the other stalls, the man grunted. His breathing was as ragged as hers, only he wasn’t attempting to hide it. Stupid move.

It sounded as though he had slid against a wall down onto the ground, just as she had. Was he really in such bad shape that he wasn’t going to check that he was alone? Maybe she could take him after all. As if in answer, a strained voice called into the darkness.

“Is anyone in here?” He asked. Kenna didn’t speak at first, her mind whirling as she tried to decide how she should play this. The voice called again. “I’m unarmed and I need help… please…”

Shit.

The locket was heavy in her pocket. Kicking herself already, she pushed herself up and positioned the rifle ready to fire as she slowly approached the stable doors. Sure enough the man was slumped against the nearest wall, looking pale. He might even be nauseous green if there was enough light to tell. Seeing him up close, he looked a bit younger than she had initially thought. Middle aged, maybe? Life was unkind these days, and sometimes that made it hard to tell. He had dark hair cut short and dark eyes, but he looked genuinely helpless.

“Keep your hands where I can see them,” Kenna commanded.

“You can search me if you want. I swear, I’m not going to hurt you.”

Rifle still ready to fire, she leaned in and ran her hand over his angled form, avoiding the spot that seemed to be paining him. Satisfied he really did have nothing, she straightened once more, gun still at the ready.

“What happened to you? Are you being followed?”

“No. It’s an old wound. Infected,” he explained with a morbid chuckle. “Odds you’ve got antibiotics and are willing to share?”

“Everything has a price.”

Kenna moved to the doors and peered out, just to be sure he wasn’t lying, but there was no sign of anyone else. Who was this arrogant ass, walking around with nothing and demanding help like he was a king or something?

“Don’t have much after getting jumped a couple days ago...”

“That how you got that?” she flicked the barrel at the wound he was cradling.

“Yeah,” he groaned, “I’m sorry. I’ll get out of your way, just… give me a few minutes to recover. Please.”

“Try anything and I’ll kill you,” she replied simply, keeping her front to him as she went back to her own spot.

She sat back down in her stall, against the opposite wall this time in case he tried to sneak up on her. The man’s labored breathing was grating on her nerves as he lingered longer than she would have liked. She did, in fact, have antibiotics. Would the ones who could get her a ticket to the Heartland miss just one single pill? She had several more than that. And if it would get this man out of her space long enough to let her rest… He groaned softly and she rolled her eyes.

Irritably, she tore through her bag and pulled out a worn bottle of prescription antibiotics for someone whose name had long since rubbed off the label. Removing one single pill, she kept the rifle in one hand as she returned to him and glowered down at his slumped form.

“The price is you leave. Immediately,” she held up the pill.

He glanced up and his eyes widened. “Yeah. Sure. You got it.”

She held it out and dropped it into one of his grubby hands. He swallowed it down immediately so she couldn’t changer her mind, which was insane in itself. That could’ve been anything, and he was just going to trust she wasn’t giving him capsulated rat poison? Whatever. Not her problem.

“Now go.”

“Any… idea what that was?”

There it was. A little late, but…

“Are you being picky?” she snipped, incredulous, before she could stop herself.

“No! No. Thank you. You’re very kind. I was just… the active ingredient would tell me how long it’ll take to kick in, and if it’s even strong enough without several more doses to…” he looked at her and could tell he had lost her interest already with his rambling. “Apologies. I… used to be a doctor. You know, before.”

“I don’t need your life story, I need you to get the hell out. Now.”

She raised the rifle again and he put his hands up in surrender before slowly, painfully, heaving himself to standing. As he did, she saw it. The logo embroidered on his jacket. It was one she knew well, one that appeared in her worst memories and most vivid nightmares. It was the one that adorned every sign, every shirt, every souvenir pen of the shelter where she and her mother had tried to find sanctuary. Where unspeakable things had been carried out by ‘doctors’ just like this one. Where her mother had died.

Kenna’s finger was pulling the trigger before her brain caught up. She barely even had time to register that the bang had come from her own rifle before the man was on the floor. Her ears ringing with the gunshot, she stumbled back toward her things and groped her way out of the stable, collapsing onto the ground just a few yards outside of the building. She should feel guilty or horrified. She should feel something.

She didn’t. In fact, she felt good. Really good. A shallow laugh escaped her lips.

What were the odds that one of them would find his way to her? That she would get a chance like that? There was no way to tell if he was one of the ones who caused her mother’s unjustified death, but it didn’t matter. There was one less of them taking up valuable oxygen.

Her hiding spot was forfeit now, though. She had to get moving before anyone who heard the shot descended like vultures. Forcing her body to work like it should, she pushed herself to her feet and started in the direction of the Hub, the duffle full of supplies feeling almost light now. She could make it to the township by morning. Kenna’s hand tightened around the strap of the bag, full of the most important things she owned. Ones she couldn’t realistically give up.

The locket would buy her passage.