Trade

When my husband replaces me with a younger model, I’m entered into the lottery and traded to an Outsider for fuel.\
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I expect a wasteland, but when the bunker doors open, I see green trees, blue skies, and him—a man half my age with a stone-cold face and a machete strapped to his thigh.\
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I’ll be lucky to escape him alive. That’s what we’ve been told all our lives.\
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And the people in charge wouldn’t lie to our faces us about everything.\
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Would they?