Sophia felt her cheeks burning as a sweat broke out across her brow. She started fidgeting with one of her sleeves, hoping it would distract Ellen. “No. Listen, I’m sorry,” she muttered under her breath. “I was just thinking. I’ll do better.”
Ellen gave her a sidelong glance, her hands deftly shaping loaves. “Thinking’s a luxury, you hear me?”
By the time Sophia stepped out of the tent for the last time that day, the sun was beginning its descent. She carried a final basket of bread toward the communal dining area, weaving between groups of survivors. Voices murmured in low tones as conversations blended into a backdrop of mumbled chatter.
“Sophia!” a young child’s voice called out, breaking through the noise. She turned to see Ava, a bony pre-teen with untamed curls, galloping toward her. “What’s left? Is that honey bread or normal bread?”
Sophia smiled, crouching to Ava’s level. “Did you already eat, my darling? This is the last of the bread. It’s for the final sitting. You kids should have already eaten. Listen, let me see what I can do for you tomorrow. If Ellen’s in a good mood, maybe we can make some honey and raisin loaves.”
Ava’s face lit up with a wide, toothy grin, her eyes sparkling. “Really? I’m so hungry. I swear I’ve been dreaming about food!”
Give her your portion, Soph. No, don’t. Eat. You need to eat.
“I know. Haven’t we all?” Sophia replied, ruffling the girl’s hair. “Now, go on. It must nearly be your bedtime.”
Ava scampered off, and Sophia straightened up, her eyes wandering as if on auto-pilot back toward the main gate. Alex was still there, silhouetted against the fading light, her posture alert. The sight of her sent a thrill through Sophia’s chest.
“Sophia,” Alex shouted as she started to draw nearer, her voice echoing above the voices of the gathered crowd.
Oh my God. She’s coming over.
Sophia’s heart jolted in her chest, but she forced a casual tone as Alex came to stand opposite her. “Last bread delivery of the day. Want some?”
Alex flashed her a friendly smile. “Thanks. Don’t worry about me. I ate my rations earlier. She turned her head to the right and glanced toward the horizon, her expression hard to read. “So? Tell me all about your day. You look tired.”
“Yep. I’m knackered,” Sophia admitted, shifting the basket to her other arm. “But it’s… it’s been fine. Zombie-free. Flour, water, fire. The usual. I need to keep busy, you know?”
Alex nodded, her gaze meeting Sophia’s. “Knackered? We don’t use that word. It’s cute.” For a moment, the weight of the world seemed to lift from Alex’s shoulders. “You’re doing great work. People appreciate it. I appreciate it.”
Sophia’s cheeks warmed. “That means a lot. Thank you.”
Their conversation was interrupted by Sergeant Henry, who had jogged over. “Major,” he said with a hint of alarm in his voice. “We’ve got a situation. Looks like a stray… or a couple of strays. Maybe more. I don’t know. But the fence isn’t holding up great. How are you on ammo?”
Alex’s demeanor shifted instantly to one of command. “You stay at the main gate. I’ll handle it. Sophia, I want you to gather everyone up and get into the hangars. It’s safer there.”
Sophia stood frozen to the spot as she watched Alex rush away. Without thinking, she started following Henry toward the gate.
“Didn’t you hear her? Step it up, Sophia!” Henry barked at her as she felt her stomach lurch.
Her stomach twisted with worry, but she forced herself to move. Sophia marched back toward the dining area with purpose, her voice firm but calm as she urged her fellow survivors toward the safety of the two main hangars. “Come on, let’s get inside. Lock it down, everyone. Everyone get to their sleeping quarters and we’ll do a headcount.”
A few of the younger ones didn’t seem to be moving, their nervous glances at her making her chest tighten. Sophia stepped closer, lowering her voice to a gentler tone. “You guys follow me. If we stick together, we’re safe.”
They know I’m lying. Most of these kids have lost their parents. Poor little sods.
Once the heavy doors were bolted and the last few stragglers had shuffled through, Sophia let out the long breath she must have been holding in and leaned against the wall, scanning the room to ensure everyone was accounted for. She spotted Ellen near the back of the space, glaring at her with that familiar disapproving look.
As Sophia started toward the supply crates, Ellen’s voice cut through the din. “What were you before all this? A shepherd? You’re certainly good at herding us all like animals; I’ll give you that.”
Turning slowly, she met Ellen’s gaze, tears prickling in her eyes despite herself. “I’m just doing my part. Same as everyone else.”
Ellen raised an eyebrow, her smirk a mix of skepticism and something else Sophia couldn’t place. “I bet you’re doing your part. I’ve seen the way you are around Alex. Everyone’s talking about it. If Miller gets wind of it…”
Sophia’s breath caught in her throat as she struggled to find a way to respond. She had been getting on so well with Ellen. Well, they’d been tolerating each other. Why the sudden change? “I don’t know what you mean by that.”
“Pull the other one, girl.” Ellen folded her arms across her chest. “Just be careful, is all I’m saying. This isn’t the kind of world where people will look the other way about… that kind of business. We’ve got a lot of traditional folks here, you understand?”
Ellen’s words hit too close to home, dragging her back to a conversation she’d had a couple of years ago. She’d just turned twenty, her aunt’s kitchen warm with the smell of mulled wine. It was the Christmas holidays, and they’d just come back from mass. Her aunt had been the only person Sophia had felt she could confide in about her feelings for Sarah—the flutter of excitement she felt whenever they practiced together, whenever they were alone…