Chapter 26

Chapter Twenty-Six

WE ARE THE MEAT

I help Ruth carry her shopping back to the house. It feels like afternoon but I'm finding it tough to know what time it is, not used to the way the light shifts as the day wanes. I'm so tired, the night's events and lack of sleep catching up with me.

Ruth seems to know how I'm feeling. ‘You just sit, now.' I protest, but she shakes her head, waving her hand at the long countertop.

I sit on one of the stools as Ruth bustles around, chopping vegetables and throwing them into a pot, the scent of onion and garlic and herbs curling around us. I watch, fascinated, as she slices the apples, layering them in a glass dish and shaking oats and spices over the top. She puts the dish in the oven, straightening up with her hands at her lower back. Another pot, standing on the countertop, beeps. Ruth lifts the lid, taking a spoon and poking the contents. ‘Ooh, that's done nicely,' she says. She goes back to the stove, stirring the vegetables before putting a lid on, turning the heat down low. Then she comes to sit with me, pulling the other stool around the counter so we're facing each other.

‘So, what did you think of today?' She smiles, her eyes creased at the corners, shining in the fading light.

I shake my head. ‘Uh, I mean, there were things that were just… and I…' The words stick, emotion choking me. I place my hands flat on the counter, the cool feel of it anchoring me. ‘Thank you. For showing me. I have a lot to think about.'

Ruth pats my hand. Her skin feels warm and powdery. ‘It was a pleasure. Nice for me to have some company on my errands.' She smiles again. ‘You ready for some stew?'

‘Oh! Yes please.' My stomach is growling again.

Ruth gets up, opening a cupboard and taking out three reddish bowls. They're shiny, the edges chipped. She places them in a row on the counter, then picks up and fills two of them in turn from the beeping pot, ladling some of the cooked vegetables on top.

‘Come on,' she says. ‘We'll sit at the table. Not often we have company for dinner.'

I get off my stool, following Ruth to the dining area. There's a small pile of placemats in the middle of the table and Ruth reaches for one of them. I realise what she's doing. ‘Oh, let me, please.' I take the mat from her, placing it in front of one of the chairs. She pauses.

‘Well, thank you, Emily. That's very kind.' While I lay out the mats, she bustles off back to the kitchen and returns with the two bowls, which she sets down on the mats.

I take a seat and, after a glance at Ruth, start to eat. The stew is hot and fragrant, the meat rich and chewy in my mouth. It's strange and wonderful, sitting at a table with light outside, eating food with another human.

Finished, I sit back, comfortably full. ‘Thank you, that was delicious.'

Ruth has finished as well, her spoon clattering as she drops it in her bowl. ‘I'm glad you liked it.'

There's silence for a few moments, but it's comfortable. Outside, the sky turns from blue to gold. ‘I guess Kyle will be up soon.'

Ruth shrugs. ‘There's a bit of time yet.'

‘Have you known him long?' Kyle said he'd known Ruth for years, but something makes me want to ask her.

‘A while.' She pauses, frowning. ‘I'm curious, though. Where did you meet him?'

Shit. Where did we meet? I chew my lips before answering. ‘I, er, we met at a club.'

‘Ah.' She nods her head. ‘It's a tough road, loving a vampire. So I hear, anyway.'

I raise my eyebrows. ‘It's not so bad.'

Ruth puts out her hand. ‘Oh, I mean no offence. I only mean because of how things are, how different we are to them. It must be strange, growing old while they stay the same.'

‘Er, I guess? I mean, I haven't really thought about it?—'

‘The young never do.' She laughs, again without humour. ‘Do you want him to change you? Do you want to change?'

I take in a sharp breath.

Ruth's face changes. ‘I'm sorry, I shouldn't pry?—'

‘Why wouldn't she want to change?'

I turn to see a man standing in the doorway. He's tall, his shirt straining over the curve of his stomach, feathers of dark hair clinging to his pate.

‘Emily – this is my husband, Andrew. Andrew, this is Emily. Remember I told you she'd come to stay, with Kyle?' She shoots him a look that's clearly a warning. He ignores it, putting down the bag he's carrying and coming over to the table, clapping me on the shoulder before taking a seat.

‘Why wouldn't you want to be changed?' He jerks his chin at me, though his eyes are kind. I don't know how to answer.

Ruth gets to her feet, going to the stove and ladling him a bowl of the stew. She brings it back to the table, putting the bowl down with a thump. ‘Ignore him, Emily. Are you ready for some crumble?'

‘Er, yes please,' I say, holding out my bowl. Then I realise this is rude and stand up, pushing my chair back.

‘Become the hunter, rather than the hunted,' Andrew goes on, as though I've answered him.

Ruth takes my bowl and I sit down again, feeling awkward. She shoots her husband another glance. ‘She doesn't need to hear this.'

‘Doesn't she? Not all of us agree with the deal our grandparents made. Maybe Emily is one of them.' He holds up his spoon, a large chunk of meat on it, and glances at me. ‘For thousands of years, we were the hunters. Taking meat, eating it, farming it, giving no thought, really, to the animals, to how they might feel.' He puts the spoon in his mouth, chewing, his dark eyes on me. He swallows. ‘And now we are the meat. We are the cattle, kept in our pens, our meadows. No matter how big the farm, do you think we don't know, we don't always remember? Your protector in there—' he jerks his head towards the hallway ‘—could eat any of us, at any time. Even you.' He jabs his spoon at me, then dips it in the stew. ‘So, enjoy eating meat while you can, Emily, because one day, like it or not, you'll be the meal.' He laughs, long and loud, as though he's told some wonderful joke. I stare at him, the hot burn of tears at the back of my throat.

Ruth returns with two smaller bowls, glass this time, both filled with apples, crumble and cream. She gives one to me and sits down with the other, shooting her husband a glance. The crumble smells delicious, but my appetite is gone.

‘And so we work and bring children into the world, and for what?' Andrew continues. ‘What's the point, when we're nothing but cattle? Safe Zones? There are no safe zones, not when we are meat. We can pretend all we like, but that's what humans have become, and?—'

‘Andrew, that's enough!' Ruth slams her hand on the table, causing the glasses to shake. ‘Emily, I'm so sorry.'

‘No, it's fine. I mean, it's true, isn't it?' My face is hot with anger. Anger at what he's saying, at the truth behind it, at my parents, at this stupid world I live in where being human is a life-long prison sentence. My dream of a human life is crumbling, right before my eyes. We are the fucking meat. And I can't bear it.

‘And another thing?—'

‘Andrew, eat your stew.' There's more steel to Ruth's tone. She tilts her head meaningfully towards the window.

The sun is setting. Andrew fixes me with a watery stare. ‘Just remember,' he says, as though he knows who I am, that telling me would mean something. The three of us sit in silence as the sun sinks, its golden light filling the room in one last glorious burst.

There's a faint noise from the hallway. The room is purple, the light in the west nearly gone, only a faint gleam of gold on the horizon. Lights come on in the nearby houses. Ruth gets to her feet, lighting several candles in wall sconces.

The door opens. Kyle appears, stretching his arms, smiling a sleepy smile at me. ‘Did you have a good day?'

There's a gleam of pity in Andrew's eyes, gentle sorrow in Ruth's. I swallow, then smile. ‘I did. It was the best, really.' My voice breaks on the last few words.

‘Would you like something to eat, Kyle?'

‘That would be wonderful.' He takes Ruth's hand, bringing it to his lips. Her eyes widen and she blushes. Andrew snorts, looking away. Ruth goes to the kitchen, bending to pull a metal case from under the counter. There's a hiss as it opens, the crackle of plastic. Then Kyle's arms are around me, his lips on mine. I close my eyes, an ache in my heart.

‘You caught the sun.' His fingertip touches my nose. I open my eyes.

‘What do you mean?'

He grins, releasing me. ‘Go and look at yourself.'

I walk over to a nearby mirror, hung above the long sideboard. And I see what he means.

‘Oh!' My skin is rosy, as rosy as the blood dancers' at my parents' party. My cheek feels warm, as though holding a piece of the sun inside.

‘It will fade, dear.' Ruth comes up behind me, her hands gentle on my shoulders. ‘It's just a touch of sun, no burn.'

A touch of sun. I close my eyes, remembering how it felt to have the sun touch me. There's a melancholy in me, wild and sweet. Despite all I saw, my illusions shattered, I would go through it all again, just to have that experience, to learn what I've learned. My heart hurts, as though it's breaking. I hear a clatter, then a tube of something is pressed into my hand.

I look at it. ‘Aloe Gel.' The writing is faded, the text partly rubbed away, the tube half compressed.

‘Just a little will help.' Ruth nods at me. I unscrew the lid. A clear gel with a fresh smell squirts onto my hand. I take some on my fingertip and rub it across my cheeks, feeling it dissolve like water, cooling my flush. Ruth looks at me curiously.

‘What?' I half smile, unsure if I've done something wrong.

‘Oh, nothing.' She shakes her head, but she's frowning again. ‘It's just, I've never seen it work so fast.'

I take another look in the mirror. My skin is moon-pale once more. My eyes widen.

‘Oh!' I panic, because this obviously isn't normal. I remember what Kyle said, about my healing. ‘Um, maybe it's because I live at night?'

I glance at Kyle, trying not to seem freaked out. He's drinking from another of the plastic pouches. When he catches my look, he coughs.

‘Right, Eme— Emily. We should probably get going, hey?'

He jerks his head towards the window. It's dark outside. And I've no doubt my family will be sending guards after us.

‘Er, yes. That would be good.' Ruth and Andrew, meanwhile, are watching us, Ruth with a knowing look in her eye. I feel terrible for deceiving them. ‘Ruth, thanks so much for today.'

I hold out my hand but she surprises me with a hug, her small body soft. She smells of cinnamon and bone broth, a comforting scent. ‘Be safe,' she says, her voice low. ‘And remember, you're welcome any time.'

She lets go and Andrew comes to hug me. It feels strange, his male scent different from the violets I'm used to. ‘Lovely to meet you, Emily. Don't worry about me, I just like to go on about things sometimes. I didn't mean to upset you.'

I catch Kyle's eye and he raises his eyebrows. I shake my head. There's no way I can explain it to him.

‘Thank you both, again. It's been… great.' I yawn, clapping a hand over my mouth. It feels strange to yawn as the night begins, but on some level it feels normal as well, that after a day in the light I might want to relax into the dark.

‘C'mon, sleepy, let's go.' Kyle puts his arm around me then, without warning, scoops me up, heading into the cool dark outside. We race into the night, but there's pressure in my chest, as though something is building, wanting to get out.

‘Wait. Stop.'

Kyle slows, but doesn't come to a complete stop. ‘We need to keep moving. We have passage through the checkpoint, but there's a way to go before we reach the next place.' We're on the same road Ruth and I took earlier, golden lights in the town below, the sea a dark shifting mass beyond.

‘Just for a minute,' I say, pushing at him. ‘We need to talk.'