Page 104 of Anathema Codex

I lift my head to look at her and the sorry excuse for food on the clay plate in her hands. When I see it’s the same shit they eat for every meal, I drop my head back onto my arm. That’s not fucking breakfast. Breakfast includes foods like eggs, or pancakes, but this bitch doesn’t have any of that. She has slimy cactus and beans, which makes my stomach churn just thinking about tasting again.

I hate this place, I hate their excuse for food, and I hate how sugar-coated and happy everyone acts all the time. Wrapping my hate around me like a warm blanket, I shift deeper into the sleeping bag and don't bother talking to her, but even after she sets the plate down… her shadow doesn't move.

"You look pale, Little Star. You should let The Daughter tend to your wound. Her Light can heal all things, and with the gift of the Cactus, you will feel much better. I can bring you—"

"No." Pulling the sleeping bag over my head, I hear her sigh, followed by the rustle of the tent flap as she finally leaves me alone again. It's the same woman who helped me bandage my leg last time, and while I needed the fabric from her to keep my leg from oozing all over my clothes, I don't want to be her friend.

I don't want to be here at all.

But, as much as I hate to admit it, I’m not going to be able to move tomorrow if I don’t putsomethingin my stomach—even if it’s disgusting.

Sitting up, I pull the jacket tighter around me and drag the plate of boiled cactus and mostly uncooked beans toward me. The jug of water from the well that one of the guys with a crazy name got for me is the only way I manage to get the beans down, swallowing them like pills. I know I need the protein, and the energy, but the beans are easy by comparison. The only way to get the cactus down is to chew it, which is pretty disgusting. It's not the flavor, which is vaguely citrusy, it's the fucking texture. There's a slime to it that makes me want to gag every time I have to force it down and I don’t know how any of the crazies here handle it.

Probably because they’re high as fuck.

The chime of bells echoing across the commune tells me that the workday has started for the 'Children of Light' and the only thing I'm grateful for is that they've mostly left me alone. Hell, even Aftyn seems to have forgotten about his plan to murder me for killing Willa.

Of course, he jumped at the chance to drink that cactus shit and hop into bed with Beatrix—The Daughter. Now he’s just as crazy as the rest of them.

Such fucking bullshit.

My bladder nudges me, and I get out of the sleeping bag and put on my shoes, wincing at the throbbing ache in my thigh. I’m getting used to it, but it’s the worst in the morning when I haven’t grown as numb to the pain as I am after I’m up for a while. It almost makes their cactus drink tempting, but I have no interest in joining their fake happy tribe of hippies.

I’d rather be in pain than witless.

Grabbing the plate, I head toward the communal dining area. It’s nothing fancy, just rows of tables set up under canopies to keep the sun off everyone, which I'm sure is brutal in the dead of summer... not that I plan to be here by then. The bright morning sun makes everything shimmer, and I can tell I'm not walking as straight as I should be, but it's not easy when I feel like hell and the ground keeps tilting in funny ways.

"Ah, young one, did you enjoy the gifts of the Earth?" An older woman smiles at me as she takes the plate from my hands, but I don't return the look. Being with Lakyn was supposed to make it so I never had to wear my mask again, and I don't want to put it back on.

I miss him.

Although, right now, I miss real toilets more. These fucked-up composting toilets are like something from a hippie's nightmare, and the stench is horrible, but I manage to hold my breath until I'm done and I’m able to stumble back toward my tent.

I may be trapped in the land of shiny, happy people wearing their perfect, smiling masks, but at least I've got my own space to retreat to. I've still got my backpack.

Another chill has me shivering as I stand outside my tent, watching the psychos wander around, but my gaze ends up focusing on the worn track where I last saw Lakyn driving away. He's somewhere out there. Probably back at his home in Mesa.

Wait.

Even though all I want to do is lay back down, I feel an idea clicking to life and with it comes a shaky plan. It’s not perfect, but my life never has been, and I’ve always managed to survive. Heading toward the small cluster of adobe houses, I aim directly for the one where Aftyn has been holed up with Beatrix since Lakyn left us here. I can hear them fucking before I even reach the door, but I didn't expect anything else. That's all they do.

Get high.

Spout insane shit.

Fuck.

Repeat.

The old hinges creak, but the grunts and moans don't stutter, and I look around at the tables and cabinets in the front space. Being as quiet as I can, I dig through the drawers and shelves, moving stuff gently to avoid getting caught.

I'm about to give up when I see a small bookshelf tucked in the corner and the little rectangle I've been searching for is resting on the middle shelf.

Aftyn's phone.

Smiling to myself, I feel my lip split, but I just lick the blood away as I pocket the device and head back out the door. I can feel how dizzy I am while I make it back to the tent, but I push my weakness aside and pack my backpack quickly, refilling my water bottles from the jug. The phone isn't charged, but I know what's on it. Lakyn's address is in one of those text messages, and I saw Aftyn enter his code into the phone more than once on our little road trip.

I don't have to stay here.

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