Corinth said nothing more, she understood that having time and space is better than having a long and pointless heart to heart conversation. Because Corinth, like me, didn't want to talk about it. We'd rather suffer in silence, face our demons alone rather than present them to someone else.
                          
    It's easier this way. It keeps us ... strong.
                          
    While also tearing us apart.
                          
    The trip back to the compound was short with the only sound being the wind rushing in through the open windows and the distant song of cicadas in the desert. This breeze was soft, rolling and tumbling in sluggish aim. Motion without moving. Nothing like the wind on the back of a motorcycle. That breeze was energetic and diligent, racing over itself to be faster than the person rushing past. That was the wind I craved because it was that wind that chased away this heartache.
                          
    Like Dustin once said, it was the closest thing to flying.
                          
    But sitting here in this car with the hot wind sweeping in at a rate only brisk enough to ruffle the strands of my hair, this breeze chased away nothing. Instead it brought feelings of nostalgia and longing, a whimsical spell cast on those reminiscing of a time they could only dream about. It was this breeze I hated because it was this breeze that brought back memories of dazzling smiles and scorching caresses, of danger and adrenaline, of passion and love.
                          
    It was this breeze that rode on each inhale, seeping deep and drawing out images I have tried so hard to lock away.
                          
    It was this breeze that was slowly killing me ... and I had no desire to stop it.
                          
    The compound gate slid open, revealing a partially rebuilt complex inside. Donovan's office had been removed and the garage at the back had been extended to make room for more bikes within. New brick was dispatched to replaced burn marks that couldn't be scrubbed clean. While the bricks themselves hadn't been compromised, no one wanted to be reminded of the night that still haunted us all.
                          
    The night that marked the beginning of the end.
                          
    Corinth parked the car next to the line of bikes that followed the line of the parameter, leaving the windows down and the doors unlocked after we retrieved the baskets from the backseat. It was another hot day with a bright sun and an endless, clear sky that stretched on for miles. Daytime was easier but I preferred night.
                          
    It was the only time I could see the stars.
                          
    "I'll take the hall on the right." Corinth offered once we pushed through the doors of the warehouse. The main lobby was pretty much the same although most of the pool tables had been resurfaced with new felt fabric because the bloodstains couldn't be cleaned. But the tables had been righted, the bar had been cleared of glass, and the cafeteria sat nearly empty.
                          
    I remembered the first time I ever stepped foot in that cafeteria, listening to the Elders taunting Dustin. I bet they regretted it now, but I suppose I'd never know. Most of the Elders from Donovan's reign had resigned from the Tribe, preferring retirement now that their generation was dwindling.
                          
    The definition of an Elder in the Tribe is anyone left over from the previous leader's reign, so I guess we're all Elders now and I'm sure the next generation will think of us the same way we thought of those before us. An endless cycle that starts so early and ends only in death.
                          
    Corinth and I passed under the arch where leader portraits still sat in constant surveillance. A new one occupied the end of the list after Dustin, a photograph of Lumiere. Smirking just like his brother beside him.
                          
    Becoming the leader was supposed to be an honor, but it has become a burden.
                          
    A death sentence.