Chapter 37: Congratulations

When we reach the gates of Abel, I don't even give Milo time to go into the tent to get checked for bites.

"You, with me, now."

Kefilwe looks at me questionably, and for a moment she opens her mouth to protest, but her mouth then snaps shut after I send her a warning look. She beckons Polly in first, telling Zach to wait outside for a moment. I just keep walking, and Milo slowly follows behind me.

I can feel him watching me, but he doesn't speak. He's too smart to do that. He's too smart to ask where we're going, what we're doing. He knows. He knows exactly what's about to happen.

Or at least, he thinks he does.

There's a building near the middle of the township that is for interrogations-that's where I take him. Not to make this feel like an interrogation, since I already know what happened, but it is one of the few places in Abel that is completely empty, and I won't have to worry about anyone interrupting me.

He's silent when we go inside the building, but I don't miss his curious eyes as they glance around the room, and how they become even more curious when we go into the actual interrogation room, with the two metal chairs and a desk.

"Have a seat," I tell him, and he obeys. He looks at me expectantly, and I lean against the wall, crossing my arms. "Congratulations. You've just gone on your first run outside. Well, your first one that wasn't just around Abel's perimeter. How does it feel?"

Milo blinks, wondering if this is a trick question. "Well, it was actually really f-"

"Fun? Is that what you were going to say? It was fun directly disobeying me? It was fun putting your life in danger? It was fun nearly getting yourself killed? Nearly getting me killed? Nearly getting your friends killed? It was fun?"

He stares at me in surprise. "I... n-no. That wasn't-"

"Don't," I snap, anger and fury beginning to boil in my blood, bubble under my skin and burn into my throat. It takes everything in me not to yell and scream like a child throwing a tantrum. "You tricked Sam into opening the gates for you and your friends, and you ran off when you knew-you knew-how I felt about you doing things with such risks."

"I just wanted to prove that I could do it, that I could be a runner. You'd never give the chance to show that I could do it."

"And you thought stealing my weapon and running off would make me think you should get to be a runner?" I ask. "Milo, I have to be able to trust the people I run with. You keep doing stupid things which makes me even more positive you shouldn't be a runner."

"You do stupid things all the time!" He argues, slamming his hands on the desk. "You defied Janine's orders just today!"

"And I'll most likely get punished for it! When I'm stupid-when I'm reckless, I get hurt. I pay for it." I lift up my shirt just enough to show the healing scar on my side. "I got the stitches taken out only a few weeks ago. I just got over a concussion. I have lacerations on my back from being whipped. I'm not even completely human anymore because of what Van Ark did to me! I was put through things when I was in America that I can't even bear to think of!

"Milo, that's what you don't understand. Being a runner isn't something that's cool or fun; It's a job, a job that comes with sacrifices-sacrifices I don't want you to have to make."

"But I want to make them. I'm willing to make them!" He sounds so desperate, so angry. "Why? Why won't you let me do this? Why won't you let me become a runner?"

"Because I love you!" I shout. "Don't you get it? You mean everything to me! I love you and your sister more than anyone in this compound. More than Kefilwe or Simon or Caleb, even Sam. If it came to me choosing them or you, I'd choose you every time. Every. Single. Time. And I'm not going to let you get yourself killed just because you want to be cool!"

I grit my teeth angrily. "Do you know what would've happened if you three had gone out and only two of you came back? If only one of you came back? Do you know how badly I would've reacted if you weren't one of those two? Or if you weren't that one?"

He doesn't answer.

"You think I'm angry now... I would've put those children through the literal torture if they would've came back without you."

"But they didn't," He replies. "I'm fine."

I rub my temples, then force on a sarcastic smile. "You know what, you're right. Let's not talk about how you almost died today. Let's talk about me instead. What if you hadn't gotten to me in time, huh? What if you had been too slow? I think-I think it would've been pretty bad right? Seeing me get bitten, having to kill me with my own axe, right?"

Milo's brown eyes widen, and by the look on his face I can tell that question threw him totally off guard.

"And I don't even think that would be the worst part. I mean, I think the worst part would be telling Penelope, right?"

He pales at the thought.

"What would you say, Milo? 'Hey, sis, remember how I was reckless with my brother not even a year ago and that ended up with him sneaking out of Abel, getting bit and then dying? Yeah, well, I was reckless again, and now the person who essentially took us in parent wise is dead too. My bad.'"

He flinches, but doesn't say anything.

"What would you say, Milo? What would you tell her?"

"I don't... I don't know."

"Exactly. But as a runner, you're going to have to expect to see your friends die-see them get bit, get shot. You will see them die and there's nothing you can do about it. There's no way to save them, but you'll never think that. No, you'll spend the rest of your life feeling guilty because you'll always think there's something you could've done, and if you'd done it, they'd still be alive.

"You can't even stop to mourn while you're running. You can't slow down. You can't cry. Because if you do, you'll end up dying too. That's what you don't understand. Being a runner requires sacrifice, baggage, pain and guilt beyond your imagination. It's not all fun and hero stuff. You have to understand that."

"I just want to be like you," He mumbles sadly.

"Believe me when I say you really don't."

"But I do."

"Then I don't. If you end up nothing like me, then I'll be happy."

"But you're a hero."

"To some, but I'm a monster to a lot more people," I say, my voice low and slightly shaking. "And I'll do whatever it takes to make sure you don't end up like me-you don't end up dead...

"So, as your mother, I forbid you from spending any time with Polly and Zach."

Milo gasps. "W-what?"

"And I will be making sure the three of you will be watched by your teachers or anyone who is over the care for you children. They'll make sure you don't spend time around each other, and they'll make sure you do nothing mischievous like this ever again."

"But-but you can't!"

"I can, and I will if it means keeping you alive."

"They're my friends!"

"Friends who will end up getting you killed."

"Like Simon?"

I flinch, but regain composure seconds later. "No. Sadly, I'm going to die by someone else's hands. Someone who's apparently a lot more sadistic than Runner Three could ever be. But at the moment, that is irrelevant. Right now we're talking about you."

"It was just one outing. I don't see why-"

"It was just a few runs around Abel's gates too, and it ended up getting your brother killed! I've already lost Willis. I'm not going to lose you too." I sigh and rub my eyes. "This is your punishment. You are not to be around Polly or Zach, and you will most likely not be able to become a runner when you turn sixteen in a few years. With that being said, you may leave."

"I hate you."

The words leave his lips so quickly that for a second I think I misheard him. But I didn't, and my heart cracks and splinters, before shattering into a million pieces. Like glass when thrown against a wall.

Smoke fills my lungs, anger and sadness suddenly gnawing at my chest. My eyes sting with unshed tears and I can taste bile rising in my throat, but I don't let it show. I keep my upper lip stiff, my posture straight, and my head held high.

"I'd rather you hate me and be alive than for you to say you love me only to die in my arms minutes later."

He glares at me, face red, eyes shining with tears. He stands and stalks out of the room, slamming the door behind him. I wait a minute or so, to make sure he isn't watching through the glass window, and then I sink to my knees, and let the tears fall.

Painfully loud sobs leave my mouth, and while no one else can hear me, I still cover my mouth to quiet them.

I hate this. I hate hurting him, but I had to do it. He's given me no choice. I can't let him risk his life. I've lost so many loved ones because of this apocalypse; I can't lose him too.

I squeeze my eyes shut, but still salty tears manage to escape my lashes. I can taste them on my tongue, feel them burn my skin as it slides down my cheek, dripping onto the cold floor below. I don't wipe them away. I have no desire to. All I wish to do is to sit here. It hurts too much to want to do anything else.

I don't know how long I sit here, crying, upset. I don't exactly want to get up, but I know I must. I must face up to Janine and receive whatever punishment she intends to give me for smarting off and disobeying orders. It'll probably be something like kitchen duty for the next week. She knows how much I hate that.

I stand up, rubbing at my eyes. They feel puffy and swollen, meaning I must've been here awhile. Thirty minutes, possibly longer. I wipe away the tears, trying to pull my hair towards my face in attempt to hide the evidence that I've been crying. I never have been the person who covers up the fact I'd been crying. I'm an ugly crier, during and after. It's not a lovely trait.

The door squeaks as it opens, and I instantly look towards the person entering out of instinct. But then I look away, not wanting whoever has come in to see me like this.

"Five?" Sam says quietly. "You've... you've been here for awhile. I saw Milo storm out. I'm guessing it wasn't pretty. I... Five?"

"It wasn't," I say as I stand, still refusing to look at him. "It wasn't pretty at all."

"Yeah, I can tell. You won't look at me, and you can't keep your voice steady for the life of you." He pauses, waiting for a response. When he doesn't get one, he keeps talking. "What happened?"

"What do you think happened?"

It comes out a lot harsher than I meant for it to be.

"I'm guessing some arguing, a lot of you yelling since I could practically see steam coming out your ears during that run. And apparently, you must've given Milo a punishment he didn't like and... he said something he'll most likely regret later." He waits for a response, and again receives none. "Will you please look at me?"

It takes a second, but I finally force myself to look at him. I loath the look of pity he sends me, and I hate how much I like it when he gives me a hug of comfort. I hate even more when he pulls me back down to the floor, still holding me. I hate how I don't push him away, how I want this, I need this right now.

"Parenting sucks, huh?" He asks, earning a dry laugh from me.

"Says the guy who has no kids."

"I never said I was speaking from experience," He jokes, and I give a tight smile of gratitude. "What... exactly was said?"

"Quite a bit. Mostly me telling him how stupid his decision was, how he could've gotten hurt, etcetera. Then I told him that he wasn't allowed to be around Polly or Zach, and he didn't like it. Then I told him, that because of his recklessness, Janine will be less likely to recruit him as a runner when he turns sixteen."

Sam half shrugs. "Well, he's only thirteen right now. In a few years, I doubt Janine will even remember this."

"I know, but... I'm-I'm going to ask Janine not to allow him to become a runner when he turns sixteen," I say, watching as his eyes go wide.

"You-you're going to do what? F-Five, you can't do that, not to him. You know it's his dream to become a runner."

"Well, dreams don't always come true," I say nonchalantly, although my throat is still clogged with tears. "And his dream will end up with him getting killed."

"You don't know that. I mean, you're still alive."

"For now."

He blinks. "What's that supposed to mean?"

I tip my head to the side, staring at his dark brown eyes that are clouded with confusion. "I think you already know. But, either way, I couldn't consider myself a good mother if I let him put himself in danger like that. I've already lost Willis to the zoms, I won't lose Milo too."

Sam doesn't say anything, not for a long while. He stays silent, as do I. We just sit there, not sure what to say next. What is there to say? Can he really blame me for not allowing my kid to risk his life? He's thirteen.

And when he's allowed to be a runner, he'll only be sixteen.

That's how old I am... I don't feel sixteen. I feel so much older. I don't want Milo to feel like that. I want Milo to be a kid. I want him to act like a kid. I've already had to grow up quickly. He doesn't.

Why can't he understand that? Why can't he understand that the cost of this-being a runner, getting adventure and excitement-is so much more than the rush of adrenaline? The cost is so much compared to the reward. It has its perks, but it leaves damage, scars.

I don't want him to have that.

"What did he say?" Sam asks finally, and I sigh, feeling tears start to form at the memory.

"He-he said he hated me." I grimace when my voice cracks. "I-It's not the first t-time someone's said-said that to me, but... it-it hurt a lot more c-coming from him."

"I'm-I'm sorry."

"I know." I let out another sigh and wipe my eyes, breathing in deeply to help rein in my emotions. "But, there's... there's nothing either of us c-can do about it."

"I could talk to him, if you want."

I shake my head. "No, that might just make it worse. Besides, I... I need to go talk to Janine, see what punishment she's going to give me. Was she hard on you?"

"Not really. Just banned Demons and Darkness night for a month, but since most of the people who I usually play that with are leaving in a few days anyway, it doesn't bother me as much as it usually would. She'll probably give you a week or two in the kitchens."

I nod. "That's what I was thinking."

Sam lays his hand on my shoulder and looks at me seriously. "Are you really gonna ask her to not allow Milo to be a runner? You do realize he has like, two and a half years before he's sixteen."

"I do... but I have to do it. And if Milo proves that he can be trusted, I can tell Janine I've changed my mind." I grab his hand, earning a questionable look from him. "Now come on. Let's see what my punishment will be."

•

I pump my legs back and forth, the squeaking of the swings creating an annoyingly comforting rhythm. Penelope, Molly and Carina are playing tag. Carina is 'it'. The three don't seem to mind that I'm not playing the game along with them. I'm glad. I'm not really in a playful mood right now anyways.

Penelope can tell. I can tell that she can tell by the sideways glances she keeps sending me. It's no doubt the seven-year-old has heard about the trouble her older brother has gotten into. I mean, it's not something everybody's talking about, but those things get around fast in a school. While none of the adults in Abel really care, the younger kids love talking about the stupid and daring things their classmates did, especially the teenagers since they have been rather rebellious here of late.

I don't think she knew what her brother was planning. No, of course she didn't. She may have covered for him a few days ago, but she probably only did so because he bribed her with candy or something similar. No, she may be young, but she's not stupid. She knows her other brother died because he left Abel. She would've put up a fight if she had known what Milo had been up to.

I watch the people pass, all silent and quick. They don't look at me, probably because they saw how angry I was just a few hours ago. It scared them, most likely. I mean, I've literally put a woman in a coma, and blew up a guy, and did a ton more of stuff that scared the shit out of people. They don't want to be on my bad side.

But then I feel a presence beside me, and the squeaking of a neighboring swing confirms it. I look to my right, eyebrows raising in slight surprise at the sight of Summer Swan sitting beside me, facing ahead but watching me from the corner of her eye.

"Hi," I say somewhat stiffly.

"Hello," She replies, still keeping her accent. I already know what she really sounds like, but she doesn't seem to want anyone knowing. Even though only a few people are passing by, she can't have any of them knowing. To her, it's already bad enough that I know her secret.

"What are you doing here?"

She jerks her chin, and I look ahead to see Ellington playing around with the three other girls. It seems they've abandoned their game of tag and have instead opted to play hopscotch.

"Ah, and you decided to bring her here now, when it's clear to see that I'm here with my kid?"

"I need to talk to you," She says, eyes searching around for any listening ears.

I raise a brow, no longer moving in the swing. "About what?"

"Heard about your boy and his friends running off. You had to go get them."

"How did you-"

"I'm a runner, idiot. Runners know almost every run another runner goes on. It's a fact."

"Don't call me an idiot," I warn, and get a shrug in reply.

"Don't ask idiotic questions."

I roll my eyes in slight annoyance, but shrug it off. "So what about what happened? What does it matter?"

"It's not really about what happened. It's more or less how you acted. You see, one of the things everyone has learned about you, is that you like to spout off at the mouth when you're angry or upset. You rarely ever hold back, which can be a problem, seeing that when you spout off, you say things that you either don't mean, or things that other people shouldn't know."

I suck in a slow breath, a frown tugging at my lips. I know what this about, what she's dancing around-not for her sake, but to keep this between us and us only. We can't risk having any prying ears listening in on this.

"I said nothing about that. I know better."

"Good, because I honestly like living. And just because you know about me-"

"Doesn't mean I know about..." I pause and look down at my hands before signing, 'every A.M.T.B. agent here or every agent at New Canton. I know. I know, although I'm really beginning to think we're the only ones.'

"It's thinking like that that gets you killed."

"I've stayed alive a lot longer than most," I shrug, which earns me an annoyed look. "And I didn't say anything about them. I'm more careful that you think, given that no one knows my name."

"That really only makes them more suspicious of you."

I shrug. "No one's questioned it yet, besides Amelia, and I think we all know why she was wondering."

I start pushing my feet against the dirt to get the swing to start moving again, and my attention goes to the four children playing hopscotch. I pray to God Penelope won't gain an interest in running. Hopefully she'll stay intrigued by gardening or taking care of the farm animals. I don't know if I could deal with two children trying to give me a heart attack.

When Penelope starts to hop on one foot through the hopscotch drawing, she loses her balance and falls onto the concrete, hard. I stop swinging, brows furrowing together worriedly as Carina and Ellington help her up.

"Are you alright, hun?" I question.

"I'm okay," She replies. Her knees are scraped and bleeding, but she simply wipes away the blood and continues on as if nothing happened. I let out a little hum, impressed.

I want this to be the closest thing to pain my kids ever go through. I don't want them to be like me and have dozens of scars, both mentally and physically. It weighs on you... so much sometimes. I don't want them to have that.

I'm doing the right thing. I'm being a good mother.

That's what I keep telling myself. I can't doubt my decisions. Not when it comes to the safety of my kids.

I look at the sky, which is already starting to turn shades of orange and purple. The colder it gets, the earlier the sun sets. It must be around five or so, which means I should start heading for the kitchens.

I was right. Janine punished me with having me do kitchen duty every evening for the next two weeks. I couldn't say I was surprised. It's pretty well known how much I hate working in the kitchens, but needs must. I didn't follow orders, and I smarted off. Every action comes with consequences-good and bad. I learned that lesson a long time ago.

"Would you do me a favor and watch these three?" I ask Summer, "I've got dinner to make."

"Sure, as long as I get an extra bread roll."

"Deal."

So I head off, walking through the dirt roads in silence. There a few people walking around, but they pay no attention to me and vise versa. I look around, my eyes looking around at some of the buildings that were built recently and those that were built months ago, after Abel was blown up.

Some of these buildings I helped build. Some of these buildings Simon helped build. Some of them Archie helped build by getting supplies. Some of them the Major designed, and Sarah-after we found out she wasn't dead the first time-helped decorate.

I miss them... all of them.

I think about them sometimes. I wish I could've saved them. But I couldn't. I couldn't stop Sarah from choosing to let that zombie bite her so she could become a double agent for us. I couldn't save Archie when Van Ark took her, and I couldn't save her afterwards with Jaime either.

I couldn't stop the Major from going through with her plan-letting Sarah shoot her. I couldn't stop Simon from desperately choosing to work with Van Ark so he wouldn't die a slow and painful death.

I couldn't stop them. I couldn't save them.

And if I couldn't save them, then how am I going to be able to save Caleb? How am I going to be able to save Milo?

I stop walking, wrapping my arms tightly around myself. I can't lose anymore people that I love to this apocalypse. I can't.

I won't.

I'm going to do whatever it takes to keep them safe. I'll do whatever it takes.

Until the day I die.

A/N: Here you go, guys! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please be sure to vote and comment! Thank you and have a blessed day!