Feast by Jeremiah Knight

twelve-year-old girl, didn’t incite violence. “Yes, sir. Well, he organized it. Was a contractor before things went crazy. Built the first of these here domes.” He raised his chin toward Lyn and Bob’s corpse. “For them. Found out what it was for and took matters into his own hands. Had three of ’em built before the world turned to shit. Most of us working on the outside have been here since the beginning, though we sometimes bring in new blood.” He nodded at Peter. “Something you might cotton to, if you’re still around tomorrow.”
    Peter heard the threat. If they weren’t around tomorrow, it wouldn’t be because they were set free. “Imagine I would,” Peter said. “We’ve been living in the wild for so long, I’m not sure I could stand more than a few days inside these walls without getting blood on my hands.”
    Boone gave a gap-toothed smile, clearly hearing Peter’s threat as comradery. “We are speaking the same language, my friend.” He pointed to the cell at the end of the row. “Now, yer rag head’s gonna have to sit things out for a bit. Kids, too, though I don’t think them two will be there long.” Boone raised a hand when he looked at Ella. Her anger was bubbling to the surface. “I know they’re your kids an’ all, but we got rules, and kids can’t go inside the house. And since yer new, I can’t let ’em have the run of the place, neither. Soon as Mason says ya’ll aren’t Questionables, we’ll assign shelters and jobs. Till then, you best do as I say.”
    “I have a name,” Alia said, her voice jolting tension through Peter’s body.
    Why couldn’t she have just stayed quiet?
    Boone squinted at her. “That so?”
    “Alia,” she said with a raised chin.
    Peter half-expected Boone to backhand her, which would set off Jakob and then their chances of escape would evaporate. But Boone’s reaction wasn’t violent.
    It was worse.
    He looked the girl up and down. “Well now, Alia, I reckon you’re of age.”
    “Of age...for what?”
    Alia had led a sheltered life before the Change, and a hermit’s life after it. Her only relationship with a boy was with Jakob, and the pair hadn’t been alone since their first kiss in Alia’s father’s biodome. Her innocence was on full display now.
    “Marriage,” Boone said. “I ain’t never been with a rag head before. Course, I ain’t sure I want to marry one neither. Course, I ain’t got to marry you to pork—”
    “Hey, Boone,” Peter cut in, sensing things were about to go downhill. Jakob’s fists had clenched and his eyes followed Boone like a bird of prey preparing to strike. And since Peter had been training his son for the past few weeks, Jakob might even be capable of...what? Killing a man? An ExoGen creature was one thing. Killing a human being left a mark on a man’s soul. He didn’t want that for his son. He motioned to Anne. “Young ears.”
    The fiendish look in Boone’s eyes melted into a lop-sided grin. “Right you are.” He sniffed and rubbed his nose with a dirty finger. “Follow me, then.”
    He led them to the last cell in line. Peter counted three people already inside, barefoot and hidden by the slanted roof’s shadow. He could see them shifting about, though. At least they’re not corpses.
    Boone twisted a key in a padlock and popped it free. The chain link gate creaked open. The people inside withdrew deeper into the shadows.
    Boone motioned inside the cell. “Welcome to Casa de Questionable.”
    Anne looked inside, but didn’t step closer. “Why are they in there?”
    “Stealing. Lying. General disregard for the status quo. Don’t you worry none. Not a one of them is prone to violence.” He gave her a wink. “Not like you, anyhow.”
    Anne sighed and stepped inside without any further protest. Alia hurried after, the prospects of staying free with Boone worse than being locked up with strangers. Jakob paused by the gate, looking back at his father. Peter just gave the boy a