After a day of walking, we at last sit down at the base of an oak tree, the only one in a what seems endless meadow. I happened to catch a Bluejay while we were walking, which we cook and have for lunch. I never feel bad for the Bluejays when I kill them. I remember how my foster parents would talk about how they were one of them, eating eggs and destroying others for food or just because the mood hit them. Eating the creature made me feel no better than the predators, who I’ve heard, when they’re not trying to catch prey, they kill each other and others bet on the outcome. Disgusting. Yet food is food, and only the rich would turn up that, and so we eat. Picking up slivers of the chewy, rough meat, we try not to make a face. Because even though the taste is fine, the concept overwhelmed the flavor. I hear a rustle in the bushes. Hunter must’ve heard it too because we both jump to our feet, dagger in my hand, spear in his. A small child pops out from behind the grass. I soften, before another girl, about my age, follows, her too holding a knife, ready to defend herself. “Evie… Step back…” The girl growls at what I assume, her younger sister. We lower our weapons. “It’s fine, we’re not going to hurt her.” “That’s what they all say, and why mama ended up dead. ¡Evie, ven aquí ahora mismo!” Her jet black wavy hair falls over her face in a few strands. She blows them away. Her caramel skin is unusually clean. She must’ve bathed earlier. But the thing that stands out the most about her is her icy blue eyes. Beautiful and chilling at the same time. The younger sister, Evie, looks similar, apart from her green eyes. “¡ahora!” The girl tries again angrily. “Pero, hermana, they have food…” she stares hungrily at the disassembled cooked bird. I cautiously walk over and hand it to her. “It’s yours now. Eat well.” As the eldest and I share a soft smile. “Gracias-” She pauses as if to hear my name “Alexandra, but you can call me Alex” I quickly respond. I haven't seen another prey in about four months. I’ve almost never interacted with a prey besides Hunter in even longer. “I’m Charlie, and this-” she motions to the young girl, “Is Eva.” “I go by Evie-” The girl interrupts. “I’m Hunter.” He says, eyes looking over the two girls as he leans on the trunk of the tree, arms crossed and pierced lips. The eldest, Charlie, takes a good look at him. Chocolate brown hair, tan skin, deep auburn eyes, and a scar cutting through his right eyebrow. His muscular form makes him look like he would’ve gone to the gym if our world hadn’t broken. “Sit,” I say, and they do. Me and Hunter watch them eat, he doesn’t seem very pleased that I gave two strangers our food, but he managed to stay silent. “Where are you two coming from?” I’m desperately trying to make conversation. Because even though we just met these girls, I want to know all about them. “We just crossed the border of México, we hoped the world would be better here, but we seem to have been mistaken. Presa y depredador, lo mismo que ocurre en México.” Charlie sighs sadly. “I wanted a better life for mí hermana, but I was silly to think that maybe it was just our country that had been shattered.” “ No, you're not silly. We all hope that maybe there's another side to this world. Hope is the only thing that we all can relate upon. It's only human.” Hunter pipes up. I smile, not because I'm happy, but because I'm reassured that there are some of us, the happy, the sad, the hopeful, all left.
