stress about everything, and I never think that everything will be alright. My parents were both therapists, go figure. They taught me breathing techniques and coping mechanisms, and sometimes it does help, but I’ve never been able to be free of it.” Athios paused, unsure of how to finish. “I don’t know what else to say…”

“That was great,” Garath told her sincerely. He placed a hand gently on her shoulder. “Thank you for sharing.”

“I’ll go next!” Daisy said, getting to her feet as Garath and Athios sat down together on a moss-covered log beside the fire. “I’ve never told anyone this, but I was going to be the first female president of the United States before the stupid apocalypse.”

“I bet you were, Daisy.” Garath smiled. “Thank you for sharing that with us. Now you get to pick who goes next.”

Daisy looked from face to face, shadows from the flickering fire dancing in the night all around them. Finally, Daisy pointed at Jebawon and then took a seat beside Athios.

Jebawon stood up and looked at the group with his typical, serious demeanor. “Me and Obawon grew up on a dairy farm. Some of you have seen my Tamed beast, Bug Eyes. Bug Eyes is actually the best friend I’ve ever had. She may just be a cow, but she’s a better listener than any human I’ve ever met.” Jebawon stopped talking for a second, tears welling in his eyes. “She’s the only one I could save when The Culling started.”

“I’m sorry,” Garath said seriously. The loss of the rest of the cows must have been harder for Jebawon than Garath would have guessed, judging by the look on the Tamer’s face. “Who would you like to go next, Jebawon?”

Jebawon took a deep breath to collect himself, then looked around the fire. He looked first at his twin brother, who wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I know a bit about these guys,” he said, motioning at the rest of the group that came from Wyoming. “How about you, Atlas?”

Atlas stood up and slid his hands into his pockets. “Where do I even start, shit… I usually avoid talking about this kind of thing but, hey, you asked. So here goes,” he said, looking almost apologetic to the group in front of him for having to hear what he was about to say. “I’m crazy. Like, certified, bat-shit crazy. The doctors thought I just had bipolar disorder at first, but since then I’ve been slapped with a handful of other disorders. I hear voices sometimes. I see things that aren’t there. I often have suicidal thoughts and urges, but I’ve remained among the living by repeating a mantra in my head. Suicide can wait, that’s what I tell myself. There are still things I want to do before that.” Atlas paused. “Judging by the looks on your faces, I think I’ve overshared already. There’s more, but I think that’s personal enough, right? Right. Sharon, tell me… tell us your deepest secret.”

Sharon looked surprised at hearing her name, but stood up. Garath caught Atlas checking out the Naturist’s butt, then the Mage Smith made eye contact with him and winked. Sharon, oblivious to what just happened behind her back, put one hand under her chin as she considered what to share with the group.

“Alright, here’s something you don’t know,” Sharon said, smiling as she thought back. “When I was young, back even before my bra-burning days in the seventies, I spent a few years running black tar heroin for the cartel.”

Garath choked.

Sharron nodded with a you-better-believe-it expression on her face. “I think I’d like to hear from my fellow healer next. Maimon?”

Maimon stood up as Sharon took a seat. “There isn’t much to say,” the Rabbi started bashfully. “Before the apocalypse, I was an accountant. I finished college a few years ago and was really just starting my career. My dad, rest his soul, got me started at his firm right out of the gate. If I have to share something personal, I guess it would be the frustration of preparing my whole life to be an accountant. To follow in his footsteps. Now, I guess like everyone else, I’m just trying to survive. Everything I learned, everything I studied for years is useless now.”

“That’s pretty rough,” Garath said. “I think we can all identify with that on some level. Thank you for sharing your frustration with us. Who’s next, preachaman?”

Maimon shot Garath a ‘seriously?’ look, then a tiny smile made an appearance on his thin lips and he rolled his eyes. “Let’s hear from our tank.”

Auto stood up and puffed his chest slightly. “I’m happy to share. You guys might not believe what I’m going to tell you, but I actually don’t have an uncle. And it’s not like my uncle died in The Culling or whatever, I’ve never had an uncle. Both of my parents were only children. I was just watching Jackie Chan Adventures when the apocalypse happened and really liked the character ‘Uncle’, so I just kind of rolled with that.” Auto started to sit down as the laughter began to spread around the fire, then the Chimerist sprang back to attention. “One more thing. Sharing your deepest secrets is like rolling in mud. When you do it by yourself, it can be therapeutic but…”

“Auto, wait. I had suspicions but, does that mean you’re seriously just making shit up?” Garath interrupted.

“Well, yeah. That kind of goes without saying, doesn’t it?” Auto replied.

“I guess,” Garath replied. “Thanks for sharing the fact that you’ve just been lying to us this whole time. Who’s up next?”

“One more thing,” Auto said, getting back to his feet and adopting the sage expression he did when he was about to share more words of wisdom from his non-existent uncle. “I’m just kidding… Let’s hear what secrets the Assassin is keeping.”

Warrion looked baffled and just sat there on a rock for a few seconds.

“Warrion? That’s you, buddy. Stand up and share with the class,” Garath told him.

“Hang on,”

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