Painted Red

by Kelsey D. Garmendia

  “What happened?” One asks.

  “We were attacked by a group of wendigos,” Nikia responds pulling her book bag from the truck’s bed. “It’s gotten much worse than we thought.”

  “So wendigos,” Two says walking a circle around the truck. “That what we’re calling them?”

  “Yeah,” I respond. “I guess so.”

  “Holy hell,” One says. “He speaks! If Xavier agrees with the name, then I’ll go along with it.”

  “What happened to the Jeep?” Two asks.

  “Wendigos overtook it.” Nikia tosses her shotgun to him. “Couldn’t risk going back for it.”

  “God damn!” he says kicking his boot into the truck’s tire. “I really liked that car.”

  “If it makes you feel any better, I lost my bow in that car too.”

  Two shrugs. “I guess that makes me feel a little better.”

  “They’re joining up together,” Nikia slings her book bag over her shoulder. “It’s not safe to go out on medical runs in twos anymore. We’re going to follow the same rules as we did for the fencing materials.”

  “Yes ma’am,” Two says. “This truck ain’t half bad. One and I can convert the engine to a biodiesel. This way it might be easier on gas runs. Won’t be as badass as the Jeep, but it’ll get the job done.”

  “Get to work on that—”

  A scream rips through the forest followed by a spew of gunshots. Then silence.

  “Who’s out in the woods right now?” Nikia yells.

  “No one,” Two says. “We counted heads on the way back in.”

  “Clearly someone is out there!” she says snatching the shotgun from him. “I’m going to get them—” I grab her shoulder and pull her back. “Get off of me, Xavier!”

  “Listen.” The growling is almost silent, but after hearing it so many times, I can tell it’s from them. “They are out there Nikia. They’re trying to draw us out.”

  Everybody’s glare turns towards me.

  “They found us.”

  Letting Go

  “Why are we being kept inside again? My kids are driving me crazy!”

  “Yeah! We want answers, Doc!”

  Yelling from the dining room echoes throughout the foyer. Nikia stalks in front of me into the hall. Hunter barks and trots away from the kids who were petting him. I scratch behind his ear and follow Nikia into the dining room.

  “Nikia, this is ridiculous—”

  “Shut up!” she says slamming her fist down on the wooden table in front of her. “You’re all just not getting it!” A heavy silence falls over the room. “Last year, Xavier shot and killed a girl in front of you all. She was covered in bite marks. She attacked him and had no memory of it. Her blood work came back abnormal, and you’re worried about your kid annoying you? Get your priorities straight.”

  I clear my throat to break up the awkward silence that follows. Nikia rubs her temples and steps to the head of the table.

  “Today, Xavier and I went on a medical run,” she says in a flat voice. “We were attacked—twice. Those things in the woods—we’ve all heard them—they are banding together. Both Xavier and I agree that things as we know it are about to change drastically.”

  “Now you trust this guy?” someone calls out. “Since when does he get to be part of big decisions—”

  “Since now,” she says pressing her finger into the table.

  “That’s not fair! He just got here—”

  “Whether you like it or not, he’s the only one who knows what’s going on out there. He lived it for an entire year. You don’t like him making decisions, don’t let the door hit you on your way out.”

  Everyone looks me up and down, sizing me up I’m sure. Hunter plops down on his stomach then rolls on his back and wiggles while kicking his legs in every direction. “We need—we need to be more careful—”

  “Great deduction, Einstein—”

  “Let him speak,” Doc says from the back of the room. He nods his head towards me and smiles.

  “My year out there was—hard,” I say. My heart bangs in my eardrums making me feel nauseous. “I ran intowendigos—although I didn’t call them that—left and right. They live in the forest. Hunt together. They’ll do anything and everything to get food.

  If they’re all banding together, we’re in huge trouble. Keeping everyone inside is the easiest way of making sure no one gets hurt. We’re all in danger and staying hidden is the best way to survive right now.”

  “Can they get in?”

  “Probably,” I respond. “But we have a plan.” Nikia frowns at me. “Once we work out the kinks we’ll call another meeting for the full house.”

  “Now please,” Nikia says. “Everyone go back to their rooms and try and keep yourselves entertained for the time being.” The room clears out in silence. When it’s empty, Nikia sits down at a table. “You better have a good plan.”

  “I think we should have lookout towers,” I respond. “Like the fort does.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I can’t get within a certain distance without being spotted . Even if we used four of the bedrooms on each corner of the property. That would be better than two armed guards for upwards of twenty people.”

  “Well, that would mean Doc would have to give up some of his office—”

  “I don’t mind,” he says joining us at the table. “Whatever space is needed is yours.”

  “There’s two studies upstairs,” Nikia says nodding her head.

  “One above the kitchen and one on the same side as your room,” Two says.

  One rubs the back of his neck with his hand. “The daycare needs to be renovated for this change—”

  “I’ll take care of that,” Nikia says pushing herself from the table. “Xavier and Doc will get to work on the two at the front of the house.” She squeezes my shoulder and smiles before leaving the room.

  Doc lets out a grunt as he pushes himself from the table. “You ready to do this?”

  “I guess so,” I respond. Hunter rolls over onto his stomach and springs to his feet as I stand from the table.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “Close to a year ago, you were in my office telling me staying here was just temporary. You never got involved in things when it came to our group here,” he says pulling himself up the stairs. “What changed?”

  I grip the banister tighter. “It was something Nikia said today when we were driving. She lost her family to the fort. She lost her will to live for a while. And now, she’s thrown everything she can give to the people here. She still has nothing to lose and invests time into surviving.

  I invested time into nothing. A year of my life was devoted to nothing else other than waiting. Surviving is more than just waiting on something that might happen.”

  Doc smiles and pats me on the back, “Welcome to the house.”

  “Don’t welcome me just yet,” I respond. “All these realizations could be for nothing if we don’t get things set up.”

  You’re forgetting, Xavier.Hayley’s voice rings in my ears like funeral bells.You promised you wouldn’t.

  Is that why you left us?Aisley’s voice chimes in and a wave of guilt washes over me.So that you could forget we ever existed?

  I close my eyes and take in a deep breath of air. “Can I just have a minute, Doc? Just need to catch my breath.”

  He nods his head and continues his climb up the spiral staircase. Hunter sits halfway in my lap and leans against my chest.

  “I’m not forgetting either of you,” I whisper. “But I can’t live like I was anymore. I need to be a human again. I need to feel like I’m surviving with a purpose—”

  I just found you Xavier. I don’t have anyone else anymore.

  The sting makes me brace myself on the stairs. Hunter leans back with me and licks my chin. “I will find you again,” I respond. “I just can’t dwell on you anymore.”

  And I let go. The weight, the guilt,
the anger—everything burns for one more moment before I feel the relief wash over me.

  Hayley and Aisley were all I had left. They still are. But I can’t run in a world like we live in now with their memories tearing me apart from the inside while I try desperately to smother them. If I do, I’ll be dead in a week. I need to survive for them, and I think I’ve finally figured out what that means.

  Forget

  Three Years Later

  Youngin’s: December, 2015

  One and I look over our stockroom. I can feel anxiety climb up my spine. “We’re running low.”

  “On everything.” He rubs the back of his neck and lets out a long sigh. “I’m nervous that we’re not gonna make it much longer. We’ve got to be going on runs more frequently.”

  “Nikia’s getting tired more quickly now. She’s down to her last couple vials of insulin. All that’s left after that are I.V. bags.”

  “She’s the not the main person we’re trying to look out for, you know,” he spits out.

  I frown at his response. One shakes his head and mutters under his breath. The antibiotics have been used sparingly as the numbers in the house decrease. Yesterday we lost three more adults. Ever since the announcement was made that the house needed to be protected with armed guards, people have been sneaking out and taking their chances with the wendigos.

  “It’s not just her I’m worried about, One. We’re all dog tired. Two, Doc—this lifestyle is taking a toll on all of us.”

  “I know,” he says nodding his head. “We need more ofus.”

  “We’ve got kids who aren’t kids anymore here,” I say. I rub my temples to alleviate my pounding head from lack of sleep. “Why don’t we put them in training—”

  “You mean like bootcamp? No way—”

  “No, not like bootcamp,” I respond taking my fingers away from my head. I take in a deep breath and try to think of what my brain wants to say. Not sleeping and endless supply runs leave me at a loss for words though.

  “Are you suggesting taking them on supply runs with us or hunting trips?” One says leaning against the wall.

  “I think both,” I say folding my arms across my chest. “We’re doing well with food. It’s not like we’re starving, but once one of us gets sick—”

  “We’re down another able-bodied hunter,” One finishes my sentence and closes his eyes while leaning his head back. “This is getting way more complicated than I want—”

  Shouting from the foyer fills the silent pockets in the air. One and I look at each other with frowning expressions and jog out of the closet.

  “Why would you try and leave?! The fort isn’t safe. They don’t want us there!”

  “Georgia, you don’t understand what will happen if we stay here. We are your parents. We know what’s best—”

  “Bullshit!”

  “Georgia,” Nikia whispers.

  “No!” the girl responds shrugging away from Nikia’s touch. “I’m sixteen. I know leaving here for a place that strings up dead bodies as a warning is not the place to call a safe haven.”

  “Georgia, that’s enough,” her father says. “You are still a girl. Sixteen is hardly an age that you can make decisions for yourself—”

  “I’m not going with you!”

  Her father whips a hand across her face; the sound of the smack echoes against walls. Georgia holds her hand against her cheek and keeps her gaze turned away from her parents.

  My mind jumps to when I was seventeen. My father had just finished his second bottle of whiskey. We had been fighting all day about me joining the military or going to college. My father wanted me to serve, but I didn’t want to end up like him—he broke my nose when I told him no.

  “Now you listen to me young lady,” Georgia’s father growls, pulling me out of my head. “I didn’t have to come back into your life. I didn’t have to pick you up from your boarding school the day this all started. I could’ve left you, but I didn’t because I knew it was in your best interest to be with myself and your mother. So you get your shit together and get your little punk ass—”

  “That’s enough,” I yell. Everyone in the foyer turns and looks at me. “She doesn’t want to leave and as far as I’m concerned, she shouldn’t have to.”

  “You’re not her blood—”

  “I don’t have to be,” I say marching towards him. “You know, I had a father like you. One that had no logical reason in any part of him. He treated me like a thing. A thing you try to mold into some misshapen version of yourself. I’m living proof that it was the wrong thing to do.”

  The man looks between me and his daughter. He lets out a grunt of anger and marches out the front doors to the house. The end of the world brings out the worst in people.

  “Wait—”

  “Let him go, Nikia,” I say holding her back. “Guys like that are poison.”

  “Georgia,” the girl’s mother says running her hand along her cheek. “Please don’t do this. We need you with us. Family is the only thing that’s left.”

  Georgia looks up at me with a happy-sad smile and then back to her mother. “It’s not what’s best for me, Mom. I’m staying with the people I know. The ones that protected us for years. I’m sorry.”

  Her mother looks at her daughter and runs her hand along her cheek again. Then, she makes eye contact with me. Her nostrils flair, and she points a finger in my face. “This is all your fault and none of your business to be budding into.”

  “I’ve been accused of much more than that, but your daughter doesn’t want to go with you. And I won’t let you drag her out of here.” Her mother turns and stomps out of the house without a second glance at all of us in the foyer.

  The girl Georgia wraps her arms around my midsection and squeezes. My muscles tense with my arms awkwardly hanging in the air. “Thank you,” she says into my flannel.

  “Don’t thank me yet,” I respond trying to relax. She runs off in the opposite direction to a group of youngin’s standing by the back door.

  “What was that all about?” Nikia marches up to me. “You had no right to be doing something like that—”

  “In case you’ve forgotten Nikia, I survived by myself for a year out there. That girl should not have to suffer what I suffered because her parents think it’s what is best for her.”

  Nikia shakes her head at me.

  “Believe it or not,” One says standing on my left. “He’s right.”

  “Oh great,” she says. “So now you two are going to gang up on me?”

  “We’re not ganging up on you, Nikia—”

  “Bullshit,” she yells. “Ever since Trenten died, you’ve done nothing but hold it over my head. This isn’t a dictatorship. I found this house and welcomed people without question. We shouldn’t be encouraging people to go against each other—”

  “And we shouldn’t let people make rash decisions for everyone else,” One says. “It’s not a dictatorship right—your words, not mine.”

  “Wait, who’s Trenten? Did someone else leave?”

  Nikia and One glare at each other. She makes brief eye contact with me after a few seconds. I catch just a hint of sadness, but she storms past me before I can ask anymore questions.

  “She’s unbelievable,” One mutters. “I’m going to catch some Zs.” He stalks off across the foyer and into his room in a rush.

  “I heard outside there was a little tension in the main hall,” Doc’s voice says from behind me. “Looks like I missed out.”

  “Georgia’s parents left. Georgia didn’t want to, so I argued for her. She’s still here. Her parents aren’t.”

  “Her parents are damn fools.” He lets out a sigh. “I could go for some eggs. You hungry?”

  “Yeah actually,” I say. “I’ve gotta bring Hunter some first though—”

  “Don’t be silly,” Doc says. “That dog is just as much a human as you and I are.”

  I smile even though my muscles feel like they’re ready to snap from exhaustion. “I’ll
meet you down here then.”

  * * *

  Hunter sits next to me on the bench of the picnic table in the dining room. Several people stare while the rest of them double-take at both of us chowing down. Doc sips his mint leaves in hot water and reads over the list of supplies.

  “We really are hurting bad,” he says scratching his head. “I didn’t realize we were that low on antibiotics and gauze already.”

  “Not to mention the insulin. Nikia has four vials left. How long do those things last her?”

  Doc sips down his drink and lets the question simmer. Hunter slurps his eggs and chicken gizzards off his plate and begins sniffing my food. I move my plate away from him and shovel a couple of forkfuls into my mouth.

  “One thing I know for sure is that we need to make another medical run,” Doc says tapping his pen on the list. “We’ve got to split up the teams—”

  “And risk getting ambushed again? No thank you.” I chew on the inside of my cheek fighting with myself to keep my earlier suggestion of training youngin’s in my throat.

  “I’m open to any other suggestions,” he says looking up at me from under his frown.

  “I thought that maybe we should start training some youngin’s. One, of course, shot me down.”

  Doc’s eyes trail off down the row of barren picnic benches. He nods his head slightly and then looks back down at the list. “How would we train them? Can’t waste ammo.”

  “Start with conditioning,” I respond. “You gotta be in shape to be out there. The whole lot of us scavengers know that. If we make a run into town, we might be able to find a bow and arrow at a sporting goods store somewhere.”

  “We might have to drive pretty far to find that.”

  “Well, so be it. We need to find fuel again anyway. We’re running low on our stock. We had to shut off the generators for the fridges because we needed the gas for the trucks.”

  “Gas is getting pretty low from the vehicles on the highway,” Doc says. “I think we’ve sucked ‘em all dry by now.”