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sounds calloused and that’s because I am; I’m calloused. I have a hard exterior and none of the soft, nougaty center to balance it out. I’ve worked hard to sink the callouses down deep, layer after layer until I’m more Jawbreaker than anything else.
    “Was it The Hive?”
    He looks at me silently with guarded eyes.
    “I only ask because you said ‘live bigger and better’ and from what I’ve seen, no one but the Colonies lives bigger and better than The Hive.” I explain. “I’m not… I know you’re not one of them because of your neck. I don’t want to know what gang you’re in.”
    He lifts his hand to touch the clean skin of his neck. If he were a member of The Hive, the largest gang in the area shamelessly living completely unhidden in the aquarium down at the wharf, he would have a hornet tattooed there. The Hive is huge by normal standards, easily 70 people strong. Probably more. Everyone knows where they are but no one would dare attack them. Not even the Colonies, it seems. There are two in the CenturyLink and Safeco stadiums just a couple miles from the aquarium but as far as I know, they’ve never clashed with The Hive. I find that both amazing and suspicious.
    “You’re not even a little curious?”
    I look at him hard. “Don’t tell me.”
    “I wasn’t going to.” he says, chuckling. “I was only asking if you were curious.”
    “I’m not.”
    “Okay.”
    A silence falls between us and I struggle for something to talk about. Hunting? No. Animal pelts? No. Jerky crafting? Ugh, no. Chit chat is not my strong suit.
    “How’d you end up alone like this?” he eventually asks.
    “I don’t want to talk about it.”
    He nods in understanding. “Alright. How about this? What’s your worst memory of the early days?”
    I scowl at him. “You mean aside from everybody dying?”
    He waves the question away. “Everybody’s messed up from that. What else have you got? What’s on your apocalypse highlight reel?”
    “This is a really dark question.”
    “You strike me as a really dark girl.”
    I hesitate. Am I flattered by that? No, that makes no sense. Still, though....
    “You tell me yours first.”
    “Nope, not a chance.” he says with a shake of his head. “But we’ll make a deal. Marketplace 101. If you tell me your most messed up moment from the beginning, I’ll tell you mine.”
    I think about my answer but I try not to go too deep. I don’t want to dig too far and pull out something dark. A lot of this stuff from the early days is buried and gone as far as I’m concerned and I’m not about to go grave robbing to entertain him.
    “I wore boy’s clothes for the first year.”
    “That’s it?” he asks me, sounding annoyed. “That’s your worst?”
    “No, not by a long shot, but you asked what was on my highlight reel and that is. I had to wear boy’s clothes for the first year because the people who took me in were afraid to travel with a young girl. They hacked my hair off and made me wear baseball hats and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle shirts.”
    “You should have been wearing those anyway. They were awesome.”
    “I’m not arguing that. Now what’s yours?”
    He chuckles. “You think you get my worst in trade for that?”
    “No, but I get something off your list. Something scarring.” I point my finger at his face. “Your rules, remember?”
    “Alright, alright.” he laughs, surrendering. He thinks for a bit before saying, “We made the mistake of going to the zoo a couple months after it happened. My parents wanted to look for food, bottled water, a place to hide. They figured with it being fenced in that maybe the virus hadn’t had much room to spread there, if at all.”
    “Had it?”
    “Nah, it was pretty empty. There were a few employees and tourist types that were taken down by it. They were wandering around looking confused and hungry by then. The other inhabitants, though, that’s why we had to leave. That’s what was messed up. Kev and