The Scavengers Read Free

hours, I was going to leave the Cube for the very first time in my life. My hands refused to stop shaking as I ran my fingers against the laces on my father's old hunting boots. The soles were cracked and the leather incredibly frail. The laces had been knotted together in the places where they have worn through and the gray-white cord in the center is showing on the outside. The boots are easily 3 sizes too big for me, but I'm going to have to make do. You can't get new boots inside the Cube. There's no leather for the uppers. There's no rubber to make the soles out of.
    If I'm lucky I'll be able to find a newer pair that fit me better on the hunting trip. If I'm unlucky, I'll trip on the stupid things and get eaten by a zombie.
    It’s the luck of the draw.
    Shame I've never been real lucky.
    I was so nervous that I'd already thrown up all the spoonfuls of my nasty little refried bean and cheese breakfast. The beans tasted better on the way up then they did going down. Probably because they were moving at a faster rate of speed.
    “I'm glad you decided to join us.” Drake's voice echoed through the early morning darkness from behind me. I turned around and forced myself to smile at him. His golden eyes almost matched the dark amber pendant he wears chained around his throat. His chest, legs and arms ripple with muscle under a fitted black jacket and seamless black pants. His boots are beautiful shiny black leather, polished and free of the wear and tear that plagues almost everything in the Cube.
    Drake has always been beautiful and I suppose he always will be, but I no longer stop and stare whenever I catch sight of him. I stopped openly drooling after Drake when Julie died. Turns out the frivolous amusement of unrequited love isn't nearly as much fun when you have no one at all to share your obsession with.
    “I like your boots,” I told him. It seemed rude not to reply when he spoke to me but the truth was I didn't have any idea what to say to the boy who I'd spent hundreds of hours holding fantasy conversations with inside my own head.
    “The Scavengers always have the best things,” Drake pointed out calmly. “Of course, we're also the most likely to die.”
    “Is it worth it?” I hadn't meant to ask the question but the words spilled out of my lips on their own.
    “Dying?” Drake asked.
    “Being a Scavenger.”
    “I've got a waiting list with three hundred and fifty names on it. That means there are at least 350 other people in the Cube right now who would be willing to take your place here today if you don't want it. Must be worth something.” Drake pulled a heavy knife off his belt and began polishing the blade with the hem of his t-shirt.
    “I didn't ask how long the waiting list was,” I clarified. “I asked you if you think it’s worth it. If you went back in time and you had to do it all over again, would you become a Scavenger?”
    Drake hesitated for a brief second and then shrugged. “I'd rather be a Scavenger than a sheep.”
    “A sheep?” I asked, confused.
    “Sheeple,” Conner said as he strode into the room. He was dressed head to toe in worn out leather and carrying a heavy backpack slung over his right shoulder. A gun, strictly forbidden by the Powers That Be, was proudly displayed on his hip.
    “Sheeple?”
    “That's what we call-.”
    “No, we don't.” Drake made a slicing gesture at Conner's throat. “We don't.”
    Conner laughed harshly. “I do.”
    “You don't either.”
    Conner leered down at me. “We're the Scavengers. Everyone too scared to go out and fend for themselves in the big bad world-.”
    “Sheeple,” I said. “Sheep people.”
    “We don't really call them that,” Drake snapped. I looked up into his gorgeous golden eyes and realized he was lying.
    “It's okay. I get it.” I swallowed the taste of burned out beans on my tongue and hoped my voice came out as steady as it sounded in my head.
    Conner laughed and thumped me hard on the shoulder. My knees