Free Reaping by K. Makansi

we’ve tried to reach out to them. But they’ve always ignored our overtures.”
    I open my mouth to speak, but Soren beats me to it, and I push back the twinge of annoyance that bites at me.
    “It was an Outsider who helped Remy and I escape Sector headquarters. We never had a chance to tell you the whole story before the attack.”
    “When I spoke with him, Valerian said a man he trusted had helped you,” Rhinehouse says quietly. “He neglected to tell me he was an Outsider, though.”
    The Director fixes her gaze on Rhinehouse, considers him for a moment, and then turns toward me. I’ve never felt comfortable meeting her eyes, and now is no exception. I feel like she’s drawing out the very marrow of my bones.
    “After dinner I want a full briefing from everyone who was on the raid the night you were captured. Every detail about your capture, your captivity, and your escape. Understood?”
    Soren, Eli, and I all respond on cue.
    “Yes, m’am.”
    Eli turns to look behind me, and I follow his gaze. Hodges is in the doorway with Miah in tow. Miah is pale and shaky, but his eyes are fixed on the enormous slab of meat on the center table. Hodges glances at Soren who jumps up and grabs an empty chair. With a slight nod to Rhinehouse, Miah collapses into the chair with a grunt.
    The Director’s eyes flit back and forth between Rhinehouse and Miah. Rhinehouse doesn’t look the least bit surprised to see Miah, but the Director’s wide eyes tell me she most certainly is.
    “I felt sorry for him in the infirmary when the rest of us were celebrating,” Hodges explains. “I think he’s doing well enough to eat a little real food. A bit of bread and protein.” Hodges picks up a plate and puts a small piece of bread on it. Miah, however, looks ravenous and ready to celebrate anything that involves large quantities of solid food. The days in the woods had already hollowed him out, and being sick has thinned out his cheeks and created dark crescents under his eyes.
    Soren, too, seems to have noticed how hungry Miah looks. He takes the plate from Hodges.
    “I’ll do it,” I hear him say, as small talk picks up again around the hall. He goes about systematically loading the plate with every kind of food available on the center table. I smile as I watch him set the plate in front of Miah, who nods in gratitude. Hodges scowls a bit, but doesn’t object. Once Miah proves himself perfectly capable of ladling enormous helpings of food into his mouth, the medic relaxes.
    There’s a clatter down the hall, and conversation in the mess hall quiets again.
    “You’re shitting me,” someone says, a male voice.
    “That’s what they said. You’ve gotta—”
    Arms full of wine bottles, Zoe bursts back into the room, followed closely by the chubby man who gave me directions to the mess hall not so long ago.
    “You’ll never believe this,” she says, staring at Adrienne and the Director. “The Sector is blaming Valerian Orleán’s disappearance on,” she points to Miah, “him.”
    Miah, a fork-load of roasted vegetables halfway to his eager mouth, stares at her.
    “What?” Soren.
    “I stopped by the comm center on my way back from my room when I heard it. They’re scapegoating him. That horrible girl Linnea just said something about it on Sector News Network. They’re gonna make a formal announcement. You’ve got to see it.”
    Chairs scrape. Bodies move. Voices, loud and whispered, float around my head like wisps of smoke. I clutch my father’s hand and wonder what this sudden change in tactics means. Miah leans on Soren as we all hurry through the hall, food utterly forgotten, to the comm room.
    With the radio on, Eli and Zoe fuss over their antiquated video feed to see if they can set up a visual while cranking up the volume as loud as it will go. We crane our heads forward. I find myself pushed up against my father and Soren, whose body seems to hollow out a space for me, as we all wait.
    “Citizens of