At the stairs Painter paused and looked back down the hall, wrestling with himself. It felt wrong somehow. But why should it? He wasn’t their prisoner, no matter how much they treated him like one. He wasn’t one of those weak citizens, either. They didn’t know what he was truly capable of, none of them did. If they had any idea, they would fear him. Maybe they should fear.
“Trouble sleeping?” The voice came from behind him, startling Painter, and he felt himself jump. He turned and found Swoop standing there, leaning against the wall, staring back at him without expression. And Painter came back to himself, and all his dark thoughts dissipated.
“Y-y-yeah,” he said. Listen to yourself! You can’t even speak! What had he been thinking? He felt almost as if he’d been sleepwalking. “Weird dreams.”
Swoop didn’t react in any noticeable way. He didn’t even blink. Just stared steadily right into Painter’s eyes.
“Just needed to mmm-mmm, to move a little,” Painter said. “But I’m OK now… I’m gonna, I’m gonna go b-back to buh-bed.”
Swoop dipped his head in a hint of a nod. Then after a heavy pause, he added, “Night.”
Painter turned and walked back down the hall to his bunk, feeling Swoop’s gaze on him the entire way. He stole a sidelong glance once he reached the stall, and caught a glimpse of Swoop out of the corner of his eye. Still standing there watching him.
It was unsettling. Painter climbed back up onto the bunk and, as he tried to get comfortable again, he wondered if maybe he’d been wrong to think he wasn’t a prisoner.
Swoop gave it another minute or so, after the kid had gone back to his bunk. Just to be sure. And when he was sure, and only then, he holstered the sidearm he’d been holding behind his back.
The sounds of people moving around drifted into Wren’s consciousness well before he opened his eyes. For a time he lay there listening, half-pretending to be asleep – just to see how long he could get away with it. The bunk hadn’t been particularly comfortable and he’d gotten cold in the middle of the night, but, knowing another long day of walking was ahead, it felt good to just lie there. Wren wished he could store up that feeling, so he could draw on it later after he’d been on his feet for hours, and still had more to go.
It would be hard work. Even if his legs hadn’t still been tired and sore from the day before, it would’ve been tough. But he was excited about getting to see Chapel and Lil and all their people again. To finally show Mama the compound, and to eat real food, and to live in a community without walls, even if it was just for a few days. That excitement, though, was mixed with nervousness.
Wren had always meant to go back before now. But after Mister Carter had died… well, it hadn’t seemed right somehow, for Wren to go back when that great man could never return. He didn’t know how everyone would react. There was no doubt they would welcome him, and everyone with him. It was Chapel’s way to be welcoming. But Wren wondered how different their relationship would be.
And Mama. He hadn’t thought about that until now. How would he explain Painter and Mama to Chapel? Most likely, he’d have to go ahead of them and prepare everyone. He’d have to mention that to Gamble and Wick, to make sure they didn’t get too close before they had a chance to announce themselves.
Wren opened his eyes and lay still. The overhead light was still off, though lights were on elsewhere in the wayhouse, enough for him to see. His mama was crouched down, quietly rummaging through her pack. He couldn’t tell if she was putting things in or taking them out, but she was taking care not to wake him.
“Hi, Mama,” he said. She glanced up at him and smiled.
“Hi, sweetheart. Did I wake you?” she asked.
Wren shook his head. “What time is it?”
“Early still.”
“Is everyone else up?”
“Everyone but Painter. We thought we’d let you two sleep as long as you could. Did you sleep well?”
“I slept OK. Not as good as at home.” It seemed strange to him that he thought of Morningside as home. He sat up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.
Cass nodded. “I always have trouble sleeping in new places. Hungry?”
“Yes, Mama.”
“Let’s see what we can find for you to eat.” She stood and picked him up off the bed and held him for a few seconds. Wren squeezed her shoulders. “Want me to carry you?” she asked.
“No, I’ll walk.”
She gave him a final squeeze and then eased him to his feet. They walked together down the long corridor back to the eating area. Sky was sitting on the lower bunk in his stall, checking his rifle. He gave a little wave as they passed.