Waking up is the hardest part. You never know what might have crawled in with you in the middle of the night. This used to scare me, but it doesn't anymore. It's part of the rut I've become trapped in. I say trapped because I don't have a choice. The color of my oxygenized blood is rusty red, inferior to the sapphire blood of the superior Blue Bloods. I am a free Red Blood, but I am not lucky. I live in a dark hole in a desert oasis. A few months ago Papa found it abandoned by some desert dwelling creature. We are always hiding, too. Every evening, I must pile rocks in front of the entrance to our den, to discourage larger animals from trying to steal it from us.

Movement beside me breaks my train of thought. Davy shifts slightly again and snuggles closer to me. I can hear Spider's labored breathing too. Her name isn't really Spider; Mama and Papa named her Hope, but we find no reason to say that word anymore. Not since Papa died. Thinking of Paper makes the little hole in my heart throb, but it's easily silenced.

“There are no snakes today, Belle,” Spider whispers. She hates snakes. Reluctantly, I open my eyes. There's a surprising amount of crust caking my eyelashes, so it takes me a minute to see that Spider is sitting by the door. Light is trickling in through the cracks made by the stones, creating pools of yellow in the cool sand. Her stringy sun colored hair matches the watery beams.

"Are you hungry?" I ask. My voice breaks on the last word; my throat is so dry and cracked. Her bony fingers begin plucking small stones from the door in response to my question. I lean over and gently push Davy's feet off of my stomach. He jumps into a sitting position in what must be record time.

"You're all right Davy, it was just me," I reassure him. His little wide eyes shrink slightly, but he's on edge now.

"Hurry up, Belle! I want to check the traps today." Spider is already up and away. Sometimes she forgets how dangerous being alone in our oasis can be. I scramble to my knees to hurry after her. My right kneel suddenly collapses under my weight, sending needles shooting up my leg. I feel my knee and find it hot and slightly swollen. I attempt hide any trace of pain from being displayed on my face. A flash of panic frenzies my mind for a moment. Why did it hurt? But that thought is easy enough to bury. I grab Papa's worn, leather backpack as I crawl out.

My broken sandal catches on a loose stone and almost makes me lose my balance for a moment. I step out into the open and the heat hits my bronzed skin like a blow to the face. The sudden feeling of vertigo makes me gasp and stagger. My right kneel buckles again as I take off after Spider, towing Davy behind me. It's so hot this morning that tears begin to sting the corners of my eyes like tiny killer bees.

I know where she's headed. We made traps from the small shrubs surrounding the water. They can catch small animals like snakes, rabbits, and wood rats, depending on where they're placed, how they're disguised, and what kind of food is used for bait.

"Look Belle! I did it!" Spider jumps to her feet a few yards away from us. She holds up a scrawny cottontail rabbit, her fingers wrapped around his ears. Her little face lights up when I come close enough to examine its neck. She'd done it, clumsily to say the least, but the rabbit's neck was broken.

"Good job." I let go of Davy and take the pitiful animal from her. I would have to find time to skin him after breakfast. Spider bends over, letting her diseased lungs catch up with her.

"Can we go back now?" Davy asks me. His deep blue eyes scream fear and discomfort. My knee sends a dart through my body again, making my muscles tighten. I manage to restrain myself from wincing before I answer him.

"I think you and Spider should go find some berries for breakfast. I'll go back and store this away," I say and hold the cottontail up a little higher. He looks at me curiously for a moment. I never let them go out by themselves. Spider grabs his wrist and tugs him away from me. "Stay together!" I caution to their retreating backs. I can't help myself from smiling at Davy's reluctance and Spider's insistence. She's practically dragging him across the sand as I limp back to our den.

I stop a few yards away from our hiding place where we keep a box buried to store food and keep it cool. Then I take Mama's chipped cactus bowl and Papa's jagged knife from the pack. I use the knife to break up the tougher ground beneath me, and the bowl to scoop it out. It takes a few minutes to unearth the box, and I'm sweating from the effort.

Something's wrong, my body tells me.

I'm just fine, my obstinate mind retorts.

You need sleep! My body screams. My knee is throbbing as if to make a point. Well… it shouldn't hurt to lie down for a while. I tell myself I won't fall asleep, just in case Spider and Davy need me. I drop the rabbit into the box and kick some dirt on top of it. It's not buried thoroughly enough, but my arms suddenly feel like they're filled with lead. My head feels like it weighs more than my entire body and so I rest it gently on the sand.

^^^

My leg is screaming! Someone is setting it on fire! I open my eyes but can't see past the black spots that cloud my vision. The blinding bright light makes me clamp my lids shut. Someone coughs vehemently.

"Be careful," a little girl scolds in a hushed tone and clears her throat.

Spider?

"Don't be stupid, Davy." Someone grabs my ankle again and yanks it upward; the fire in my leg comes back to life with a vengeance. My back arches upward trying to find some position that's comfortable. The heel of my foot hits the ground again with a thump, tearing up my leg with imaginary bullets. I set my mouth in a hard line and bite my lip to keep from crying out.

I'm dragged for another minute until the air becomes cooler. We stop moving and then I can feel the sand against my limp body again. Spider is coughing like before, her overworked lungs complaining about the exertion. After a moment she composes herself.

"Do you think she's awake?" A clammy finger touches my cheek.

"Is she alive?" Davy sounds like he's on the verge of a meltdown.

"Yes, she's breathing." I feel Spider place her tiny hand on me to show Davy the up and down motion of my chest. Her hand sweeps across my forehead lightly. "A dead body wouldn't be sweating either."

"Belle's going to die!" Davy sobs.

"I am not," I croak weakly. Davy stops crying at the sound and throws himself on top of me. The warmth of his little body feels soothing to my clammy skin, even though it can't be any later than early afternoon and the sun is hot and intense. Spider must be quelling her own fears, because she uncharacteristically snaps at him.

"Don't smother her." Spider pulls Davy aside and places something at the base of my lower lip. "We brought you some water." I take it in my hands as fast as I can. I don't even bother to ask if she's boiled it. It's the second time I've intentionally thrown caution to the wind today.

"Are you all right?" Spider asks and takes the empty bowl from my shaking fingers. "You weren't out there very long, but you might have been burned." I don't feel the stiffness in my flesh that sunburn would cause, but I check to make sure. It's not very severe, but she's right. Even in the dim light of our den I can see the pink undertone beneath my toasted colored skin. I shudder, thinking of the disaster I've narrowly avoided. Sometimes it's easy to forget how the desert can make little things become very dangerous.

All of a sudden, Spider rocks back on her heels and sits with a quiet thud. Her whole body shakes and shudders from the throat shredding heave of her lungs. It makes me anxious the way her condition seems to deteriorate with every passing day.

Davy looks almost comical as his head whips from side to side, looking from me to Spider, unsure of what to do. It isn't hard to see the waterworks coming.

"Davy," I say and cringe at the volume of my voice. It increases the intensity of the throbbing beat inside my head. "Go get some more water, for Spider this time." He pauses, the watery color of his eyes reminding me of Papa.

"Make it be okay, Belle," he whispers and scurries away, not even hesitating at the door like he usually does. It's quiet now but for the incessant and uncontrollable hacking coming from my sister. It's hard to feel empathy for my younger sister at the moment, and not just because I've spent the last two years learning how to shut down my emotions so completely. I feel so sick and my knee feels so swollen, that her suffering all but fades away inside the thick fog that is clouding my mind. Images float by in no particular order behind my closed eyelids. I see Mama and Papa and remember how it bruised and broke my heart to watch them go. I see Spider grasping the cottontail rabbit enthusiastically and feel my heart splinter when I think about the agonizing responsibility that has been left to me. I see…

My train of thought is derailed so abruptly that for a moment, I'm not sure what roused me. And then I hear it again. It's a scratching noise. I can hear something large digging around outside, snuffling along the ground and grunting. My stomach churns with uneasiness, but I am having trouble placing the cause. I search the memories that I sifted through in my semi unconscious state. My heart stops… the cottontail! I never finished burying the box! Oh no, Davy…

An awful, indescribable noise emits from Spider. My nervous eyes dart to the corner where my sister is hunched over and spitting something into the sand. She's spitting something red into the sand. Now I feel like I might actually I throw up. Blood never means anything good. If nothing else, Mama and Papa had taught me that. Spider holds her mouth shut as another cough tries to escape. It makes her cheeks puff out like a toad's.

And then the world is deathly silent.

I can hear my heart pounding against my ribcage. How could I be so stupid? What made it seem okay to send Davy out alone? Hadn't I always prided myself in being smarter than that? But there's no way anything can be done now. Spider is wheezing and wiping blood from her lips and I can't even stand, much less think in a clear manner. The silence is pressing in. It fills the spaces inside my ears. It's oozing down my throat and making my insides queasy. It's so thick I think I can see it.

"Belle…" A terrified shriek cuts her short. It doesn't stop but grows higher in pitch interrupted intermittently by animalistic growls and the snapping of a strong jaw. The inside of my head is pounding so hard I start seeing spots in front of my eyes. As if something triggered it, my mind snaps into focus despite the debilitating fever. I push myself to my good knee and start moving stones as fast as my lethargic muscles allow. First I push the larger ones into place and then begin stacking the smaller ones on top.

"What are you doing?" Spider cries over the cold, penetrating scream. I can't find the mental or physical strength to answer her. She rushes over and wrestles the rock away from me. In my weakened state I don't stand a chance, even against my sickly sister. "You can't leave him!" There are tears running in rivulets down her dirty cheeks. She pushes and pulls at the stones that are already in place. Her breathing quickens and she starts to cough in short bursts. I'm able to push her aside now and finish covering our hiding place in a clumsy haste. I lean back stiffly. I'm too worked up to sleep even though that's what I want most right now. I take Spider into my arms, to comfort her as well as myself. Her crying and gasping is making her breathing worse. There's more blood running down her chin now.

With an ear splitting bang, the world becomes eerily silent again. Even Spider's hysteria subsides into teary-eyed hiccups. There are voices outside, I can hear them. Voices like I thought I'd never hear again – adult voices. I know better than to say anything. They can't be Red Bloods or they wouldn't have guns. We sit there in the dark for an immeasurable amount of time, Spider and I. I have my hand clamped over her mouth, and then I feel her chest heave under my arm.

Oh, please no, I pray. There's another heave and then another. All the while I can hear the voices coming closer to our den. Spider is sputtering, and the hand I have covering her mouth comes into contact with something warm and wet. Instinctively, I pull my hand away to wipe it on my filthy shirt. It's a reflex, but I know it's a mistake. A barking, guttural cough sprays blood on the gray rock in front of us. The noise is loud and unrelenting; the voices outside rapidly cluster around the den's entrance. We're caught. My heart drops down to my stomach and my throat closes up. We're finally caught.

Large, sturdy hands rip away our cover. The sun is angled away from our home so the man's features are easily distinguished. Everything about his face is very angular. I'm sure he's a Blue Blood. He stands up straight making his cap cast a shadow around his eyes. He puts a hand up in order to see us properly. His eyes are a deep magenta, the customary color for Blue Bloods. He looks up and over us, and uses his hands to magnify his voice.

"There's two more over here!" His voice sounds gravelly and cracked, like he needs a drink of water. Spider turns her face against my shoulder and cries and coughs. I don't know whether she's crying for Davy or because she's scared, maybe both. I run my fingers through her tangled hair to calm her down and glare at the unwelcome intruder. I can feel flecks of liquid hitting the sweaty skin of my shoulder, but I could not care less at the moment. The man bends down to pick Spider up but I lock my arms around her middle in a death grip. Spider – my brave little sister – lashes out kicking and screaming and spitting globs of red at the monster's face. He cries out in surprise and lets loose a string of angry words I've never heard before. Disgusted, he throws Spider to the ground and grabs my wrist instead. The ground seems to spin underneath me as I'm yanked to my feet.

Now his friends have come to help. He hands me off to one of them and this one, I notice, has a much kinder and gentler hold on my elbows. Though my head is still spinning I manage to keep my focus on Spider. She's still lying on the sand and coughing, but this time it doesn't stop. Rusty red blood is everywhere and the coughing continues. She attempts to gasp for air but her damaged lungs spit it right back out accompanied by more blood. She's writhing now. Her face is turning purple, her eyes are bulging, and the monsters are watching. No one makes a single move to do anything. I feel my fractured heart sputter and shrivel until it's wrinkled and dry, because those bulging eyes are looking at me. They're looking at me, pleading with me.

Do something, help me! But I can't.

Finally, her body stills, and I feel what's left of my pathetic heart twist and wring itself into a void of nothingness.

"There's promise in this one," someone says after a minute. "Put it in the van." Wordlessly, my captor tosses me over his shoulder. I'm more determined than ever not to cry when he jostles my knee. We have to walk what looks like about thirty feet to reach the three brown vans that will carry me away forever. On our way, we pass a grotesque scene. There's a midnight blue creature, covered in spikes from its head to its tail, and resembles something like a giant dog. Its ribcage is protruding immensely and a black, sticky substance is trickling out of a bullet sized hole in its side where one of the Blue Bloods must have shot it.

It's an escarpia. The monstrous creatures Blue Bloods raise to guard their industrial plantations, but this one looks so thin it must be feral. Even in death, the creature looks horrifying. This isn't what catches my eye. Surrounding the escarpia is a red, bloody mess. The bones have been snapped, and the skin has been torn off in strips. I can see tufts of hair here and there. It’s unrecognizable, but the aching void in my chest knows what it must be.

"A devastating loss." His voice is so quiet I hardly hear him. I refuse to answer. I can't help but be surprised though. His friends had treated my family like animals, but this Blue Blood seems inclined to have a real conversation with me. "I lost my brother a few years ago," he goes on, "I still hear my mom cry herself to sleep some nights."

"I don't want your sympathy." I say so coldly I hardly recognize it as my own voice.

"I'm just telling you you're not alone." He is quiet for another minute before he speaks again. "It's okay to cry you know." I hate to admit it, but for one second I try. It would feel so good just to cry, but I can't. I can't feel anything. If I did, it would kill me.

"I can't," I say, my voice strangely steady. I half expect myself to be more emotional, or maybe I am hoping. We're in front of the van now and he sets me down more gently than I any other Blue Blood would have.

"If that's the case," he says straightening up, "then I do pity you." I watch him walk away. A curiously sad, almost haunted looked is etched on his face.

Am I really so calloused? If I am, I don't know how to fix myself.

I lie my head down and press my cheek against the cool metal of the van's floor. It feels good.

"It's mostly in good condition," I hear someone say, "It's dehydrated, malnourished, and it has an abscess in the right knee, but nothing that can't be fixed." An abscess. I wish desperately for it to kill me, but I know it won't. I know I'll go to sleep tonight and wake up in the morning again, only this time inside a factory.

Waking up is always the hardest part. You never know what memories might crawl in with you in the middle of the night. I've always known this and it still scares me.