“You bought it,” she says with a shrug. “It’s not a gift. If you’re asking if I’m okay with you, then yes, I guess I am. I don’t know you as well as Ava and some of the others, but you saved my brother’s life. I don’t care what your name is.”
She turns around and walks away, and I take the mat to spread it out near Aerin.
“Better than the ground,” Aerin says as she runs her hand over the mat.
“It’s a little cozy for two.”
“We’ll make do.”
We each take a small portion of the mat and lie down, Aerin with her back to me. I wrap my arms around her, and she snuggles against my chest.
“You meant what you said back there?” she asks. “You want to just leave here, head north, and forget about what we heard in the complex?”
“I’m not going to forget it,” I reply, “but right now, I just want everyone to be safe.”
“Maybe we should just go off on our own. Milo makes a good leader. They’ll find a place to settle. They could be just fine.”
“Could be, I say. “That’s not enough for me. I’m not going to abandon them, even if they seem to think it’s a good idea.”
“What about your plans for revenge?” Aerin asks softly. “How do they fit in with moving north?”
“Maybe the best revenge is to make sure everyone survives,” I reply. “Eliminating the Naughts is my father’s real goal. If I can save some of them, isn’t that revenge?”
“You make a good point.”
“Are you with me?”
“Of course I am.” Aerin rolls over and places her lips against my cheek. “I’m just trying to understand.”
“Understand which part?”
“Why saving these people is so crucial to you.”
“I’m not going to just abandon them.”
“Why not?” Aerin looks at me, and her eyes dance in the firelight. “I’m not trying to be flippant; I’m just trying to understand. What is it about these people that makes you want to help them? You haven’t known them all your life. You have only been with them a few years. Why did you stop wandering when you got to Plastictown? Why are these people so important to you?”
“Naughts have always been important to me.”
“But why?”
“Probably because of my mother,” I say with a shrug.
“Really? You’ve never talked about her.”
“I didn’t know her very well. She died when I was young, and I only have a few memories of her, but I know she cared about people. There are two things I remember most about her: She read to me a lot, and she took extra food over the wall and gave it to the Naughts.”
“It was her idea all along?”
“I’m not sure, really.” I search my childhood memories, but they’re all in a fog. “I just remember her doing that, so when I got old enough, I did it myself.”
“So, everything you’ve done to help the Naughts has all been in memory of your mother?”
“I never really thought about it like that. I suppose it started that way. The first time was when I was just walking near the gates, and there was a family there looking for handouts. I still had some food in my bag from lunch, and I gave it to them. It reminded me of my mom.”
“You’ve never thought about your own motivations before?”
“I guess not. I just…do what feels right. I’ve got a lot to make up for, I guess.”