#loganwalker

Ever since Elias died, the town had been quiet. It took months for David and Logan to rebuild what their father had kept alive: trust. Not even Elias's blood could spare them from suspicion. After some time, people started coming out of their homes again.

There were gatherings. Music. Potlucks. Laughter. The town was a community again.

And even though everyone was together again, Rya still felt like an outcast. It didn’t matter how involved her brothers always made her be in the community; the feeling still clung to her like dust. She was different, and even if no one said it, she could feel it.

She stayed where she was needed–helping in the community kitchen. Stirring pots, portioning rations. She mostly kept quiet company: the elderly who walked with canes and limps, some who coughed too often to still be allowed near the food. Women who didn’t care that it was obvious that only the men left out the walls. Instead of playing outside, the children counted the cans of food; however, Rya recounted them at night because she didn't trust the children to do it accurately. It also gave her something to keep her mind off of what was outside the gates.

Fifty years had passed since the bombs, but radiation still lingered through DNA like smoke in sealed rooms. Birth rates were low. Birth survival rates, nearly nonexistent. Every child was a miracle–most bore the mark of mutation: brittle bones, immune system deficiencies, hearts that wouldn’t last a decade. A scraped knee could kill just as easily as a small infection. It was pertinent that scouters picked up extra medical supplies and medicines, even if they knew it wouldn’t help.

Girls were rarer. Girls who lived were even rarer. Some bore the mutation visibly–heterochromia. The girls with one eye visibly different from the other. The boys had it differently–hairline cracks in the irises, shimmering like shattered stone, only visible in radiated zones.

Rya had the eyes. The first known girl born and survived past adolescence in the last two decades. Which meant if anyone outside discovered her, her fate would be worse than death.

And yet, she had never felt truly alone. Not in the way others feared it. She welcomed solitude–found comfort in the winding paths between the homes, in the back door that creaked just right, and in the quiet her brothers left behind when they went outside the gates.

When no one came after her call, she wiped her hands on her pants and stormed out of the door. The wind greeted her like an old friend, tugging at her sleeves. “Hey! I know you all heard me!”

“We heard you!” David called without turning.

“Then act like it!”

She meant it playfully–but the other soldiers, unfamiliar with her rhythm, looked up in alarm. One of them chuckled. “On our way, Bug,” Keegan called back.

“Bug”. Her brothers had given her that nickname when she was small, claiming her eyes looked like a bug they once saw in the wild. She had never seen the insect herself, but the name stuck, even being widely used to address her in the community, mostly by the older folks.

Some days, the soldiers called her “Rie.” But when her spirit was low, they always defaulted to “Bug.”

“Let’s go, Riley,” Logan said to the family dog. Riley’s ears perked up, tail wagging as he trotted into the house ahead of them. Rya didn’t remember exactly when Riley came into their lives, but she did know it was one of the best days of her life.

Soon, all five of them–David, Logan, Keegan, Merrick, and Ajax– were seated at the dining room table. Riley sat close on the side, dutiful and quiet, waiting for his portion of food in his bowl.

“Where’s your food?” Ajax asked. It was unusual for Rya not to eat with them. It was like a ritual every time food was cooked. It was the one time all of them could be together and just enjoy each other.

“I ate on my way here,” she lied. Her stomach turned even as she said it.

In truth, rations had run low again. A new group of survivors had arrived last week, stretching the food supply thinner than it could bear. Kitchen staff had started skipping meals, letting families ration in smaller portions. A few days without food wouldn’t kill her. Not when the scouts and soldiers were the ones risking their lives. They were the ones who really needed the energy.

The soldiers and scouts always had more. Bigger portions. More frequency. The logic had held since Elias–soldiers needed strength for the field and scouts needed energy for their searches. That tradition never changed.

David rose from his chair, half a plate still full.

“Aye! Where are you going?” Rya snapped. “We don’t waste food.”

“Ah, my big little sister,” David smirked. “I’m full. Have the rest.”

“No. You need to eat.” As much as she wanted to take the food, she didn’t want to be the reason for his later starvation.

“I’ve eaten. Besides, I’m sure the rations you got weren’t much.”

One by one, the others stood, leaving behind bites of bread, potatoes, and scraps of meat. Logan. Merrick. Ajax. Then Keegan–silent but deliberate–took every plate and scraped the leftovers onto one.

He set the full plate in front of her. Took Logan’s fork, then placed it down gently.

Rya stared at it. “You all are unbelievable,” she said, half smiling, trying to keep the lie intact while crossing her arms. She didn’t want to admit that she wanted to eat every scrap of food that was there. It had been nearly three days since she had a decent meal, surviving off of bread and water.

Had they seen through her lie that easily?

“I told you I ate.”

Keegan shrugged. “Heard your stomach growling through the window.”

Rya’s stomach turned. Embarrassment. Had it been that loud? Sometimes, she swore that if she were in the face of death, the rumbles of her stomach are what would get her killed. “Sit down and eat,” Logan said quietly.

Her arms relaxed at her sides and she lowered into her chair. If there was one thing about her brothers and their friends, they were always going to look out for her, even if she didn’t want it. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” David muttered.

The heavy echo of boots shifted as the men walked towards the door. “Where are y’all going now?” Rya asked.

“Scouts spotted movement near the bridge,” Ajax said. “We’ll be back by nightfall.”

“Oh.” Her eyes dropped. Her lips twitched downward. They never talked about what was beyond the wall–at least, not to her. But sometimes, it slipped.

“What does it look like?”

The men froze and their eyebrows raised at the question.

“The bridge?” Merrick asked, confused–until it hit him.

Rya had never been beyond the walls. She had been beyond the gates before–training exercises, guarded paths–but not the wall.

The wall was different. It was the real boundary.

The distance between the gates and the wall was wide enough to keep the community unnoticed, but not wide enough to be safe. Sound traveled. Beyond the wall was where the real danger was.

No one knew how to answer the question. While she knew what a bridge was, she had never seen one. Not even a picture.

“It’s like…” Ajax began. But words faltered. “A bridge. Uh…” He looked to the soldiers behind him for help.

Keegan stepped in. “You know the hallway upstairs?”

She nodded.

“Think of that–long, narrow. But instead of wood, it’s concrete and steel. And instead of walls, there are rails–like the staircase. It connects two places over water.”

It was the only way he could think of to make it make sense–comparing everything to something she already knew.

Rya nodded again, forming the image like puzzle pieces in her mind, the image created not making much sense, but enough to grasp the concept. Keegan compared the legs of her chair to the bridge’s supports, the clotheslines to the arches.

“It make sense?”

“As much sense as it could,” she said with a smile. It was good enough to give Rya something to draw when she left.

“Sorry, Bug. That’s the best I’ve got.”

“It’s alright. I’ll just add it to the list of things I need to search for pictures of in the library.”

Logan glanced at the sky. “We gotta get going, Rie.” He was always keen on being punctual. The more time they spent here, the less time they had to figure out what the people were doing on the bridge.

“Yea…Be safe,” she said.

Then the soldiers left, each giving her a hug before they left. Some lingered.

And then it was just Rya and her plate of food, cooling in front of her. Even Riley had gone with them, trotting at their heels through the gate. Because somehow Riley got to see beyond the walls before she could.