I watched the latest raiding party leave from the sidewalk where I’d sat down, defeated for the fifth time that day by my fucking stupid ass ankle. Lou was busy lecturing me on how my ankle wasn’t healing properly because I kept walking on it instead of watching twenty people leaving.
“You know Joe’s in one of those vans, right?” I cut her off in the middle of a sentence, making her wrinkle her nose irritably.
“I heard Adam had recruited him as one of the soldiers now, yes,” she said in this clipped tone she got when she was resisting the urge to slap me.
“That might have been me if I hadn’t fallen off the wall and broke my fucking ankle,” I grumbled. I might have been able to prove I wasn’t just a psychopath and been given more than another begrudging chance. Instead, I knocked myself out cold and have since been totally fucking useless.
Lou’s hand stroked my hair. “I know, babe,” she sighed.
I watched until the gate groaned and squealed its way shut.
“C’mon,” Eloise’s hand moved from my hair, silently offering to help me up, “let’s go home?” I snatched up my crutches and let her yank me up from the ground.