She waves her hand around the room and says, "The harem."
Of course, she must’ve been shut in the harem during the attack. It’s the only part of the palace secure enough to withstand the kind of attack the Primitives would've thrown at them. But she would've had to come out eventually, and if she'd survived, why hadn't Silas?
As if sensing the barrage of questions coming her way, Hannah begins to talk, her voice strained. "Silas used the last of his strength to shut me in here, along with anyone else left in the palace who didn't have time to leave with you and Wolfe." Bitterness creeps back into her voice as she mentions our narrow escape. "I begged him to follow me in, to lock himself in here with us. He refused, insisted that he would protect us when the Primitives came. I don't know exactly what happened, he closed us inside and that was the last I saw of him."
I cover my mouth with my hand as I imagine what Silas had gone through as he tried to protect his remaining wife. He had been so weak. Physically, he’d been mostly unable to get out of his chair. Mentally, he had been drifting, forgetting things. It would've been a last act of bravery that would’ve ultimately proved useless, given his condition at the time. He probably died instantly when the Primitives got to him. Or so I hope.
"What happened after that? You wouldn't have had enough food to stay in here for a long period. This place was only ever meant to be a short-term shelter in case of attack."
"We were forced to leave the harem before the last of the Primitives finally left the city. They were still finding people hiding out, biting them, eating them, turning them. It was so horrible." She squeezes her eyes shut as the memories assail her. I want to reach out and touch her, to hug and hold her in her moment of pain, but Hannah is a different person now and so am I. Where once we were sisters to each other, now we’re… I actually don't know what we are.
"Yet you managed to survive," I say softly, trying to pull her from her memories. Her dull eyes meet mine.
"Yes, some of us survived, along with some people in the city. Maybe 500."
I flinch. There had been thousands of people in the Santa Fe sanctuary when it fell. Only a few hundred escaped with me and Wolfe. That meant less than a thousand survived the Primitive attacks. The thought makes me feel nauseous.
"I'm glad you survived." I blink rapidly as tears rush to my eyes, remembering Hannah the way she used to be. Soft, pretty, motherly.
She gives me a tight smile. "Some days I wonder if I actually did survive."
I know what she means. After a lifetime of running from the Primitives, begging Sanctuary in city after city, I wonder if I'm still the same person I used to be.
I slide onto one of the seats at the table and reach for the tray. The last time I ate was yesterday, not having had time between the attack at the gas station and Wolfe picking me up and bringing me to Sanctuary. I suddenly feel as though I'm starving. I pick up the fork, pierce a cooked piece of potato and shove it into my mouth. I chew and swallow, then ask, "Are you staying here? In the harem?"
She shakes her head. "After the attacks, after the Primitives left and we were able to move more freely, I chose a house in the city. It was either abandoned or the occupants killed. It’s several blocks away, so I’m still able to walk to the palace each day."
“Was there a new Warlord? What happened? How did you rebuild?” The questions spill from my lips now that Hannah seems to be willing to speak to me.
She hesitantly touches the back of a chair and then with a sigh pulls it out and sits down. I push the tray toward her a little, indicating that she can help herself. There’s enough food on the tray to feed five grown men, more than enough food for two women to share.
"None of the survivors wanted to take on the responsibility of Warlord. Not at first. We debated whether or not to stay or to go find Sanctuary somewhere else, but we were hearing rumours from other Sanctuaries, as refugees started to drift in, that most other Sanctuaries had fallen as well. We didn’t know where to go with so many people, so we decided to stay and rebuild. A few weeks after the city had fallen, thousands of refugees showed up from other Sanctuaries, from eastern cities that took far more damage than ours.”
She reaches out and picks at the edge of a piece of lettuce, then snatches it up and starts nibbling on it. I smother a smile. Hannah always did prefer rabbit food over meat or bread. If I were to hazard a guess, I would say that this lettuce, and the other vegetables on the tray, probably come from a garden that Hannah herself grew.
"How did you manage to rebuild Sanctuary without a Warlord?" I ask.
She blushes and takes a big bite out of the lettuce. "Many of the people that were left behind trusted me and convinced the refugees that they should trust me too. It was only a temporary solution, since a woman can't be Warlord. We worked quickly to repair the wall, to reorganize the city so that we were clustered closer to each other instead of spread out and more vulnerable. We rallied around the palace. It worked, for the most part, until the second wave."
Her voice drops in pain as she mentions this.
"Second wave?" I hadn't heard of a second wave.
"Yes, a second wave of Primitives swept through the area. Only these ones seemed smarter. They strategized and trapped us, taking us out one at a time as we did things like leave the city on hunting parties, or attempt to fix the water plant. It was a terrifying time, and I was completely incapable of dealing with it."
"You were never trained to handle security situations," I say, reaching out to touch her. At first, she jerks her hand away, but then she hesitates and reaches out to take mine, squeezing.
"Thank you," she says softly. "It was hard watching so many people, so many refugees that came to us begging for Sanctuary, taken out by the second wave. And me, helpless to contain it or do anything about it. I’m simply not a soldier, I can’t cope with attacks."
Even though I suspect I already know the answer, I ask anyway. "What happened? How did you stop the second wave?"
"Wolfe," she says simply. "He showed up just in time to save us. He was completely ruthless, but effective. He came in, brutally stamped out any Primitive stragglers roaming the city, and then eradicated them from the area. It was amazing, and he did it almost single-handedly. Like a machine."
I nod, understanding. I've seen Wolfe in action many times. He is exactly like a machine. He kills without thought, without remorse, without compassion. He's effective and terrifying. By himself he can do as much damage as an entire army.
"I'm so sorry it's been tough for you here, Hannah," I say to her. "But it's not much better anywhere else. I didn't want to leave you behind. In fact, I wanted to be the one who stayed and fought. I was better equipped for it. I was devastated when you stayed behind."
Tears fill her eyes and she keeps them fixed on the table.
"I know," she says. "And I'm sorry I was so cold to you when you arrived. It's just… I've been so angry for so long, I don't know what to do with myself, or how to direct the pain. When Silas died… it killed a part of me."
I nod my understanding. "Me too."
She lifts her eyes and we look at each other. Silas’s two favourite wives, once more together, sharing a moment. Only we can understand what the other is going through, the pain of losing a husband who had become our everything.