11. Kara
11
KARA
K ara’s fingers throbbed from the impact of her fist against the wall, but she welcomed the pain.
Owww. Jesus!
It grounded her. It anchored her to the physical world. This was a good sign because her head was threatening to spiral out of control.
I let her go! What the fuck have I done? The first time I’ve felt this way in years, and I just let her walk out the gate.
She was trapped, stuck in her regret and shame, unable to rid herself even for a moment of the knowledge that she had betrayed the one person who mattered most to her. It wasn’t just that she hadn’t stood up for Sam—it was worse. She had doubted her. And punching the wall of the cabin was going to do nothing to bring her back.
She kicked at the small wooden stool near the bed, sending it skidding across the floor. The sound was harsh, causing her to wince as it traveled down her ear canal, but the action did nothing to ease her agony. The stool clattered into the wall and wobbled before toppling over. Kara gritted her teeth and turned away, forcing herself to move, to do anything other than stand here feeling helpless.
Her bare feet slapped against the cold floor as she paced the room. She hadn’t slept in days. Maybe she’d dozed off for a few minutes here and there, but it never lasted. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Sam’s face. Not the kind, caring, funny, brave Sam she’d fallen hopelessly in love with. No. What she saw was the broken, helpless, betrayed Sam who’d walked out of her life forever. Her mind replayed the moment she’d just stood there like a bystander in her own life and watched her Sam go.
She ran her fingers through her hair, tugging at the tangled strands in frustration, her nails scraping against her scalp.
Why didn’t I try harder to stop her? I chose this place over her, and for what?
The thought looped endlessly in her head. Sam had needed her, and she had done nothing. She’d let fear win. Fear of the others, of the community, of what they would think, of what they might do. It had been safer to side with Riley. But why had she felt that way?
It was unbearable. She felt sick.
She shoved her hand into her jacket pocket, her fingers brushing against an old note from her father she kept in there. It was just a handwritten reminder to pick up some milk from the store. But at the bottom, he’d drawn a dozen kisses. It was her source of security. But now, it felt like a taunt. She didn’t deserve kisses. She didn’t deserve thelove of any kind. Even the love of her dead father. He’d be ashamed of her.
Kara dropped onto the edge of the bed, burying her face in her hands. She needed to do something. Anything. If she stayed in this room one second longer, she was going to scream.
Sam’s out there. She’s probably dead already. And it’s your fault.
She shot up from the bed, her knees wobbling under the sudden rush of movement. The latch jammed as she yanked on it, and she cursed under her breath, throwing her weight against the stubborn wood until it finally gave way with a creak.
Outside, Kara felt disconnected from what was going on around her. But at the same time, she needed to move her body.
The smells, sounds, and sights of people going about their daily tasks were blurred at the edges, as if she was watching from the other side of a thick, murky glass.
She wasn’t sure how long she had been walking when she reached the small cluster of huts near the outer perimeter. These buildings were more dilapidated than the ones near the center of Fort Haven. Over time, they had been abandoned as people built better, more robust structures and moved closer to the inner sanctum, where it was safer. But this place was quiet for now.
Moving forward, Kara pushed through the door of one of the huts, her heart hammering in her chest as anxiety built inside of her.
Inside, the air was stale, the floor strewn with discarded wrappers, broken tools, and empty cans. And there, in the far corner, hidden beneath a tangle of blankets and crates, she saw it—the stash. Medical supplies, boxes of food, jars, bottles, packets…
It was so obvious now, so painfully obvious. How had she missed it? Rage bubbled up inside her as she moved toward the pile, her hand trembling as she lifted the lid on one of the crates to reveal the stolen supplies. Her stomach turned at the sight. This was it—this was what had damned Sam. And the culprits? A group of goddamn kids. Or a setup.
The reckless little pricks. They had no idea of the consequences of what they’d done.
A sharp cough behind her broke the silence, and she whirled around, still clutching the crate. One of the teens stood there, a defiant smirk playing on his lips.
“I knew it! It’s Pete, isn’t it? You’re Kenny’s kid, right?” she spat, her voice shaking with disgust. “I knew you guys were up to something. I saw you a couple of nights ago running out here. I didn’t think much of it then. I thought you were horsing around. But now?” She gestured to the pile of stolen supplies. “Do you realize what this is? This is what got Sam exiled, you little jerk.”
The teen shrugged. “What? Everyone's just trying to survive. We don’t get enough to eat in this shithole. And we need stuff to trade! No one even wanted her here anyway.”
“ Trade ?” She stepped forward, the fury bubbling up to her throat. “Who are you fucking trading with? You let her take the blame for this because you want to play shop? She did nothing to deserve this.”
The teen rolled his eyes. Sam wanted to grab him but knew herself to be better than that. “It’s not as if it was our idea to get rid of her. The community decided that. And so did you, right?”
She felt a pure sense of outrage as she strolled across the room, her hands balled into fists. “No. You’re wrong. It wasn’t like that. You and your friends did this. We all trusted you. You’re old enough to know better!”
The teen’s cocky facade faltered. “We just needed some stuff, all right? We weren’t trying to get anyone in trouble. I’m sorry.”
“Well, you did. And Sam—she’s out there now. Alone. Do you have any idea what that means? Do you even care? She could be dead.”
The teen shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other and started at a point on the wall. “We didn’t think you’d all kick her out.”
“You should’ve thought harder.” She glared at him. “You’ve condemned her, and for what? Because you were bored?”
His face hardened again, though his eyes darted to the ground. “It’s not our fault she got the blame. She didn’t fit in, anyway.”
“You’re a coward,” she hissed, shaking her head.
The teen’s gaze finally met hers. “Do you want me to say I’m sorry again? It’s not like that’s going to fix anything, is it?”
“No. It won’t. But it’s a start.”
She stormed out of the hut, her breath coming in quick, sharp bursts. Her eyes scanned the settlement until she saw him. Riley. He was standing together near the center of the compound, laughing and joking with another couple of guys as if nothing had happened.
She moved toward them with purpose. Her vision narrowed until all she could see was Riley.
“You knew ,” Kara screamed, rushing over to the man who was at least two feet taller than her until she was just inches away from him.
He turned, startled by the venom in her tone. One of the other men, short and broad-shouldered with a thick beard, met her head-on. He put a hand on her shoulder and turned her in his direction, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Kara? What’s the matter?”
“You knew, didn’t you? You all knew,” she repeated, stepping back and shaking her head. “It wasn’t Sam! You knew it was your kids. You must have! And you said nothing? You didn’t think to go talk to the captain about this?”
The shorter man’s face darkened, his expression hardening. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I found the stash,” she yelled. “In the old huts. Your kids have been stealing supplies—food, weapons—everything Sam was accused of. And you let her take the fall.”
The man’s eyes flickered with something—guilt, maybe—but he quickly masked it with anger. “Just watch your tone, Kara,” he growled. “My kids didn’t do this. You’re going to have to show me.”
“I’ve got all the proof I need,” Kara snapped. “I found the supplies. I found everything. Do you think you can cover for them? Sam is out there alone!”
The man’s face twisted into a sneer. “They’re just kids, Kara,” he spat. “They didn’t mean any harm. It was just a silly mistake.”
“Mistake?” Kara’s voice was rising now, filled with disbelief. “A mistake? Sam was banished because of them. She’s out there alone, facing God knows what, and you call it a mistake ?”
The tension in the air was palpable, crackling between them like electricity. The other parents had gathered around, watching the confrontation with wide eyes, but none of them spoke. Kara knew she was losing the battle.
“I’m going after her,” she said. “And when I bring her back, everyone is going to know the truth.”
Kara stood there trembling, her heart hammering so loud it seemed to echo in the hollow silence around her. The parents were staring, faces red with anger and embarrassment, but she didn’t care. Not anymore. Not about them, not about anything but Sam. She hadn’t even realized what she was saying until it had come out, but now the truth of it burned in her gut.
I’m going after her.
A cold dread settled in Kara’s chest, as heavy as a stone pressing down on her lungs, making it hard to breathe. She turned away from the parents, ignoring the shouting that rose behind her as they scrambled to justify themselves, to cover up what they’d allowed to happen. None of it mattered. She’d wasted enough time trying to convince people who didn’t care about the truth. She needed to get her bag before she set off.
Sam was out there because of her and she had to at least try to find her.
The ground felt uneven beneath her feet as she began to walk. Her arms hung heavy by her sides, her fingers curling and uncurling in erratic spasms. Inside, it felt as if something foreign was crawling beneath her skin—muscles tensing and releasing in a rhythm she couldn’t control. Her chest tightened, not with sharp pain, but a slow, relentless pressure, as if the air itself had turned solid, pressing inward from all sides.
Jesus! Am I having a panic attack?
As she reached the gate, the weight of what she was about to do hit her full force. She had never ventured beyond those walls alone. It was one thing to go out with a team, armed and prepared. It was something else entirely to face it solo.
A wave of fear crashed over her, and for a split second, she was paralyzed.
What if I can’t find Sam? What if Sam’s already…?
Kara couldn’t even finish the thought. The images that flashed in her mind were too much. Sam, alone, wandering through the wilderness, her skin pale and cold, her eyes glassy, a lifeless shell of the woman Kara loved.
God, why didn’t I go after her sooner?
Kara’s mind drifted back to a moment from her childhood, a memory she had buried deep, but one that clawed its way back to the surface now, raw and vivid.
She had been twelve, standing in the middle of a crowded room, heart pounding as she tried to explain to her father what had happened. She had seen something—something bad—out by the woods. A group of older kids, maybe sixteen or seventeen, doing something they shouldn’t have been. They had taken a younger boy, a neighbor, and pushed him into the creek, laughing as he struggled to get out, the current pulling at him. Kara had been the only one who’d seen, the only one who’d tried to help. She had run to her father.
But he hadn’t believed her.
“You’re just imagining things, Kara,” he had said, his voice firm but dismissive. “You’ve got a wild imagination. You didn’t see what you think you saw.”
Kara had protestedand tried to make him understand, but he wouldn’t listen. Later, when the boy’s parents came to their house, it was her father who smoothed things over and told them there was no need to worry. He told them kids would be kids, and Kara had probably just misinterpreted what she thought she’d seen.
No one had believed her.
She had been powerless back then. Her voice wasdrowned out by the authority of a trusted adult who refused to listen. Years later, she’d found herself in the same position—powerless to stop the injustice that had been done to Sam.
But this time, it was different. This time, Kara wasn’t a child. She could do something.
She took a deep breath, her chest expanding painfully as she inhaled, and then she reached out, her hand steady this time, and pulled open the gate. The guard tried to advise her not to, but she didn’t care.
The wind hit her like a wall, cold and biting, but she welcomed it. The air outside the walls tasted different—sharper, rawer, alive with the untamed world beyond.
As she walked, Kara’s mind raced, her thoughts jumping from one worry to the next. Where would Sam have gone? Would she have tried to head toward the mountains? Or maybe she’d gone south?
Where did she say her tribe had gone? Think! Think!
But the truth was, Kara didn’t know. She couldn’t remember. And that scared her more than anything. Sam was resourceful, sure, but she was also vulnerable. Kara’s heart clenched at the thought of Sam, cold and scared, with no one.
Her pace quickened. Every rustle of the windandevery snap of a twig made her jump. Her senses wereon high alert.
Please let her be okay.
The world outside Fort Haven was wildanddangerous. Kara knew that better than anyone. She had been out scouting, leading expeditions beyond the walls, navigating the chaos of the post-apocalyptic landscape time and time again. But never like this. Never with this gnawing fear in her chest, this desperate need to find the person she loved before it was too late.
She hated herself for letting it get this far, for letting Sam walk away without a fight. She had let doubt and fear cloud her judgment, and now Sam was paying the price.
Kara’s eyes stung, and she blinked furiously, refusing to let the tears fall. She didn’t have time for weakness. Not now. Not when Sam needed her. Her focus was singular—to find Sam and make things right.
But… she also knew it may be too late.