Kira rested on the shovel, the heat causing beads of sweat to collect on her brow. She was amazed at how she managed to dig two pits before finding the spade, but thanked whoever looked down on her for its discovery. Breathing in and getting ready to move, she wiped her forehead. The odour of stale sweat assaulted her nostrils, reminding her of the freshness she felt in Guernsey, and how she longed to be back there. But she needed to complete this task, it was the right thing to do. Her next move would be to head to Johnsonville and try to find out about her mother. Hope tugged at her, made her itch with desire, made her shake. She looked at the remaining body. Just one more to go before she could resume the search.

Readying herself again, Kira moved to the prone form, grabbed the legs and heaving the body along the floor. It may have been undignified, but better to drag a body to a resting place than let it fester in the sun, being picked apart as carrion. Plus, they had started to smell. Although the stench tainted her skin and clothes, she felt better than having to inhale it every time she passed where they had fallen.

The thud brought a tear to Kira's eye. Looking down on Louisa, she said, "sorry." Knowing she had made the wrong choice almost overtook her, but the smell wafted in her face, making her eyes sting. This time it seemed different though, not the usual decaying flesh, but more like faeces.

As the smell got stronger, she heard footsteps. Kira spun round, then the wail deafened her. The figure moved so fast she almost bundled Kira over as she grabbed her in a bear hug. The woman smelt bad, but that did not cause Kira's cry. Sheer relief flooded through her body, almost causing her to collapse. The firm embrace kept her up, though. The figure was crying as well, her tears creating a damp patch on Kira's shoulder. But that did not matter, all that mattered was them being together. They pulled apart, the woman in front of Kira holding her face in thin hands.

"Mother," Kira managed through the tears.

"It's OK my baby, I'm here now."

As her mother pulled her back into an embrace, every feeling fled out of Kira. With it came the confession she had been so worried about. "I'm sorry," she sobbed, "it's all my fault. They're dead because of me."

"Shh, Shh," her mother replied, stroking her back. Holding back her own tears, Johanna said, "let's sit down and have a drink, then you can tell me everything."

~

The well water tasted rancid, but that which Kira brought into battle in her cantina had long since gone. In this heat, water became a necessity, even if tinted brown with flecks of debris nestled in. Kira did not want to tell her story. The judgement of her mother would be too much to bear. But she learnt long ago that a lie left to fester is more difficult to speak.

Kira swilled the disgusting water in her mouth, hoping it would make her vomit and stop the conversation before it started. As it did not, she had no excuses left. "I... I...," she tried, unable to form the start of the story. It would be easier once she got going. There was only one thing for it, tell the truth. "I stole some bread." The look on Johanna's face crushed Kira. It was worse than anything Princips could do to her.

"I don't know whether to be angry or not now," Johanna said.

"I just couldn't watch you stave," the tears came again.

"Even if it comes from a good place, it is still wrong. But the time for blame is over. Tell me what happened next."

"I got caught," Kira could not raise her face to her mother's.

"I go that," some sarcasm creeped into the reply, giving Kira the courage to go on.

She braved herself, and raised her head once more. "Well, Princips took me to the city..." Kira continued the story at a fast pace, stopping now and then to correct herself. The weight of pain eased off her shoulders as the story continued, even if the guilt grew heavier. Kira explained everything from being sold as a slave, to finding out who Du Puteron really was; from her capture and escape in Sector 15 to the battle of the slum; from Eliana's betrayal to Louisa's death. As she spoke, Kira looked out over the unmarked graves, thinking of the destruction that had taken place, the death that had come at her hands. When Kira finished the tale, she broke down in tears once again. Her mother holding her tight and telling her it was all over now, and they had the future to look forward to.

"I just feel a fool, if I had only known who she really was, if I had only chosen Louisa," Kira managed through sobs.

"It's not your fault, even the mighty leaders of the rebellion did not know who she was."

"But even when I knew, when I had the choice, I chose her. I chose her because I am selfish."

"Sometimes the bind of blood makes us do the wrong thing for the right reasons. I would have chosen you in that situation."

"That doesn't make it OK."

"Look, let's forget about this for the moment. Let me tell you my story." Kira looked up into her mother's face. A story, it would be like the old days, when she was young and her mother recited ancient tales of far off heroes who travelled the world and battled monsters. It always amazed Kira how her mother remembered all the words. But Johanna would not need to remember mere words now, she had lived this tale, she had become the hero out to vanquish evil. "So, let me take you back to the start. To when you went missing." Johanna did not embellish, but she did use the language of legends, more to take Kira's mind off her own journey than to make Johanna's part seem greater than it was. She told of her journey to the city to steal some drugs for Solomon, missing out an important meeting. Johanna explained about getting caught and becoming a slave like her daughter. She talked about Kungawo and how he enabled her to escape the city. Kira nodded in acknowledgment. Now she understood her mother's odour. "It was dark when I got here," Johanna concluded, "so I sheltered in a building near the edge of the slum before coming here. I didn't expect you to be here," she welled up again, "but we think like each other, coming to the same place to start the search."

They held each for a while, letting the stories sink in, just happy to be together once more. Despite the joy in her heart, Kira could not pull her gaze away from the graves. Anger rose. Not like usual, not about some other thing or situation. About her, about what she had done. Somehow the entire journey felt futile. "It's not right," she muttered.

"What isn't?" Johanna asked.

Kira pulled out of the embrace, "this. The destruction, the death. So much of this would not have happened if I had not taken that bread."

"What do you mean?"

"Their leader, the Princips leader, is dead. They've got someone else nice, someone to make life better. If I hadn't stolen that bread there would be less death, and we would be in the same place."

"If you had not stolen that bread we would be dead."

"But what difference would that have made? Louisa, James, Luka, they would all be alive."

"You don't know that, not for sure. This battle would still have happened, and they may still have died. But remember, if we had stayed, we would not be here either."

"It would be better if I wasn't here!"

"Don't say that! Never say that."

"It's true though."

"It's not true, how do you think I would survive without you?"

"You'd get more food."

"There is more to living than food. Look, we have this place. It may be a wreck now, but we can make it our own, and if this new leader is any good, this place will be even better than before."

"We're not staying," Kira stated.

"What? It may be a dump, but this is our home."

"Not anymore. I am part of the rebellion now, my home is in Guernsey. The only reason I stayed was to get you and take you with me." Johanna started to mouth something, but for the first time in the conversation, Kira showed excitement. She needed to tell her mother about the amazing island. "You're going to love it. It feels quite cold at first, but you will get used to it. There is greenery everywhere, it is surrounded by water, blue skies and proper buildings. Everyone there is so nice and friendly, they share nearly everything. As long as you work to keep the island running, then you..."

"I can't go," Johanna cut in.

"Why not?!" Kira snapped back, wondering how her mother could be so ungrateful.

"Because your father is alive."

"What? Dad's alive?" Adrenaline coursed through Kira's body, leaving her shaking.

"I saw him in the city..."

It was Kira's turn to butt in. "Let's go get him then," she said, standing.

"It's not that simple. He's not himself."

"What? He's gone mad or something?"

"Not quite. You see, they... they..." Tears stopped Johanna.

Kira's anger counteracted this, "they've done what to him?" Johanna turned away, unable to get the vision of her husband out of her mind. Kira wanted to shake her, to understand everything. But she remembered how Du Puteron helped her with her anger, and how she could direct it better. She could attach no blame to her mother, so Kira would be wrong to lash out at her.

Kira dropped to her knees, "please, I need to know, even if it is really bad."

"They..." Johanna swallowed deeply, "they have put drugs in him."

"What? Like to make him sleep or get confused?"

"No, they have been testing stuff on him. He's... changed."

"Changed how."

"He looks different," Johanna worked hard to hold back the tears, "can't talk properly. I only saw him for a bit, but it was enough to know."

Kira rose again, "right, I'm getting him."

As she strode off, Johanna shouted, "NO, you won't get far, he's locked away...Come back."

Kira paused. Before this had all happened, she would have stormed off, following the burning in her body. Her mind swam with hope and rage, but Du Puteron had taught her enough for her to keep some semblance of control. Once more she was close to letting the beast out, once more she tamed it. "Du Puteron," she said, walking back.

"What?"

"We need to go to Guernsey, to see Du Puteron. He knows some people inside Princips, he can help us. We need to go to our new home."

"OK," Johanna said, dejected.

Kira raised her right arm to her face, unlocking the watch strapped to her wrist.

"What's that?" Johanna asked.

"A watch."

"It's like those they have in the city, isn't it?"

"I spose."

"Where did you get it?"

"Du Puteron. I'm just going to call Stephanie on it."

"How do you know how to work it so well?"

"Mum, you won't believe this, but I can read."

Johanna beamed at her daughter, tears coming again, tears of happiness, tears of pride. "Show me."

Kira moved so her mother was able to see the screen. She swiped left, reading out the sounds of the letters, "g-a-m-e-s, games."

"You're making that up."

"Nope, this is s-e-t-t-i-n-g-s, erm set, set, ings, yeah, settings."

Johanna planted a kiss on Kira's cheek. If nothing came out of this Guernsey place, at least her daughter reading might improve their life.

"Get off," Kira said, swiping left again. "Right, this is it, I'll just contact Stephanie, then we can get going."

"Wait," Johanna said, louder than expected, "before we go, there is one thing I need to do."

~

The doors stood unguarded. Despite this, Johanna walked tentatively, pushing them open slowly. She sensed Kira's presence close behind, so held up a hand to stop her.

"Really?" Kira said, "I am part of the rebellion and have been trained to take people down, and you want to go in first?"

Johanna, still holding the doors ajar, shrugged.

"Get behind me," Kira commanded. Something different appeared in her voice. Kira no longer Johanna's little girl, but now a fearsome warrior. Johanna did as she had been told, letting the doors swing shut. Kira stepped forward, kicking in between both doors. As they swung open, Kira stepped through the gap. Although only a few seconds, Johanna's wait was aganising. "All clear," came a call from inside.

Behind the doors sat a dimly lit corridor with stairs leading down. The interior decor had seen better days, even the bright graffiti had faded to dull reds, blues and greens. "Where now?" Kira asked.

"Down the stairs and to the right."

Johanna slowly stepped toward the stairs, but Kira strode forward, confident she could tackle anything that came her way. At the bottom, Kira turned without stopping, still no-one to block her path. The room beyond was almost empty; the mishmash of plastic garden furniture overturned as members of the gang had rushed to escape.

In the centre of the room stood a worn but comfortable chair, the sort that might not look out of place in a living room. Here it acted more like a throne. Slumped in it, a battered and bruised man drifted off. He woke with a start as Johanna walked in front of him and said, "how the mighty have fallen."

"What do you want?" Solomon asked in a sardonic tone, wincing in pain as he sat up.

"I've got some interesting news for you. It seems you have lost all your usual contacts, so this might come as a shock."

Kira appeared behind her mother

"If it's that you've found your daughter, I can see her there, looking grumpy," Solomon responded.

Kira stepped forward, but her mother's arm stilled her. This was not Kira's fight, even if she wanted to punch this man square in the face. Not that she knew who he was, he just gave off the vibe that he deserved it.

"No thanks to you. And I'll have less of your rubbish, you are in no state to make snide comments."

"I'll do..."

"SILENCE," Johanna shouted. It felt good to be in control, to hold all the cards. Solomon rolled his eyes. He would have added a shrug had it not been too painful. "My husband is alive."

"What? He stayed in the city? He betrayed me?"

"NO!" Johanna stepped forward, bringing her face close to his, "he was captured, taken. That drug you made me get, they tried in on him, they tested it on him. It changed him, hurt him. That was your fault." She jabbed Solomon's chest with a finger, enjoying the pain it caused him. Standing up she said, "so for all your help, I have one last thing to tell you." Johanna raised her hand. Pushing all the power she had into her arm, she slapped Solomon as hard as she could round the face. His scream echoed around the empty room, a sly grin across Johanna's face. When the noise died down, Johanna turned to her daughter, "now we can go to Guernsey."

THE END