Painted Red

by Kelsey D. Garmendia

  “Which is why we need to branch out. We can maybe—hopefully—get some weapons on a run. Even if we scrounge some paintball and BB guns on the side—we can train them with those.”

  “You’re the only one I would want training them, Xavier.”

  I frown at Doc. Hunter nudges me with his nose and lays his paw on the table. “I’m still not used to people, Doc. I have the patience level of a five-year-old who really needs to use the bathroom.”

  Doc laughs and shakes his head at me. “I think you underestimate yourself a lot of the time,” he says. “You are hands down our best hunter. I’ve never seen a guy with as good of a shot as you have. Not even Trenten.”

  “That’s the second time I’ve heard that guys name today,” I respond letting Hunter scarf down the remainder of my eggs. “Who was he? Clearly he’s not here anymore.”

  “Used to be one of us,” Doc answers standing from the table. “But I think you should go ask Nikia that. She knew him better.” He walks away without another word as Hunter steals a chicken bone from my plate.

  In Like A Lion

  I let Nikia’s anger settle for a week before I’m at her bedroom door. I think by now she’s starting to see she’s losing grip with the people in the house. Hunter trots by me and out the back door to run for the day. I knock on her door with my fist.

  “What?” Nikia’s voice says from the other side.

  “It’s Xavier.”

  “And?”

  “I wanted to talk,” I say. “Can I come in?”

  I hear the toilet flush. “Just a second.” There’s some shuffling noises and then a couple things shutting before her bedroom door opens. Nikia’s face is covered in a thin layer of sweat; her olive skin is a pale white in the lamplight.

  “You ok—”

  “I’m fine. What do you want?”

  “Uh—I came to ask about the training program. Have you thought more about it?”

  “Not necessarily,” she responds bracing herself against the doorframe. “Is that all?”

  “Have you checked your blood sugar? How much insulin do you have?”

  “Enough,” she responds. “Are we done now?” She attempts to slam the door, but I catch it before it closes. She turns towards me, her eyes rolling back into her head.

  “Nikia—” I catch her just before her head hits the corner of the dresser in her room. “Doc! I need help in here.”

  Hunter comes running into the bedroom and starts licking the sweat from her face. I hear footsteps thumping down the stairs along with shouting. “Oh shit,” One’s voice says. “Doc, bring insulin!”

  “Nikia, can you hear me?” I lay the back of my hand across her forehead. “She’s burning up—”

  “She’s been holding off using her insulin again,” One says kneeling on the other side of her. “Help me get her in the shower. Cold water does miracles sometimes.”

  We carry her into the bathroom and lay her down in the bathtub. I turn the cold water on and let it fill in around her. “Nikia,” I say.

  Her eyes open halfway. She looks at One and I and swallows.

  “I’ve got the insulin,” Doc says pushing us out of the way. He hangs a bag of insulin from the shower rod and cleans her skin with rubbing alcohol. “Good idea with the cold bath. I told her that she needs to stay on top of her blood sugar.”

  “We just grabbed her another testing kit last run,” One says. “I don’t understand why she hasn’t been keeping track.”

  “Because her insulin supply is down to about a weeks worth, One. You and I both know that,” I respond.

  Doc rubs his temples. “Xavier, do what you need to do to get the youngin’s ready to make runs. Not only will Nikia suffer, but we’ll all be dead soon if we don’t get started on this.”

  * * *

  “How long have you been sitting there?”

  Nikia’s voice wakes me from a dreamless sleep. I sit up and rub the tiredness out of my eyes. “Doc said it should take a couple of hours for your fever to come down,” I responded. “I didn’t think you should wake up alone.”

  “That’s awful human of you,” she says.

  “We started the training program, Nikia. Your insulin levels were way below what they need to be, and a decision had to be made—”

  “Who’s training the youngin’s?”

  I look up from my hands at her sideways glare. “Me.”

  “You’re the best at shooting—”

  “Why didn’t you keep track of your blood sugar!” My anger surprises both of us. Everyday I focus my energy into survival. My whole plan revolves around that. And watching Nikia let her condition knock her on her ass for a few hours sets me off for reasons unknown—even to me.

  “Last time I checked that’s my business—”

  “Last time I checked, Nikia, you dragged me into this house. You told me I needed to find new reasons to live other than Hayley and Aisley. You’re one of them dammit!”

  She swallows and clears her throat. “I didn’t want to run out of insulin—”

  “Doc has I.V. bags of it still,” I respond. “You had nothing to worry about. We all have back up plans—always. You know that.”

  She bites down on her lower lip and nods.

  “So what’s the real reason?”

  She lets a sigh out through the small part in her lips. “The girl Georgia, her parents were one of the first families we took in.” She pushes herself up in bed and leans her head back on the pillow. “Her father was a moron and a Grade A asshole. I knew that. And if anyone else didn’t, they were just trying to be nice.

  I’ve sat by and watched the youngin’s here grow up. Georgia didn’t stay because of safety issues—she stayed because of Zachariah.”

  “Who?”

  She laughs and shakes her head. “He’s another youngin’. You might wanna get familiar with the kids’ names here if you’re planning on training them.”

  “I still don’t understand why that bothers you enough to neglect your own health.”

  “I’m losing touch with them,” she says. “People used to look up to me here. If things seemed bad, I could quell their fears pretty easily in the past.

  Ever since we lost the Jeep and put in these watchtowers, people have lost faith in me. They feel like I’m not as qualified as the soldiers at the fort.”

  “It’s true, you know.”

  “I understand that,” she says looking out her window. “But that doesn’t make it any less stressful on me. I started this place. I can’t just let it fall apart.”

  Her eyes meet mine again. I let silence fill the room for a couple seconds. “Who was Trenten?”

  She lets out half of a laugh and looks away from me.

  “Listen, I know One is pissed at you because of something to do with him. I’ve noticed it for years. Doc won’t tell me what happened. He said I needed to talk to you.”

  “I’m sure he did,” she responds. “He always wants me to talk about my past.” She shakes her head and pushes herself up in bed. “Do you have some water?”

  “Yeah, sure.” I head over to the nightstand across from her and pour some into a glass.

  She takes a careful sip then, balances the glass on her thigh. “After Doc showed up here, a man named Trenten showed up at our doorstep,” she says. “He was one of the original people here. He was smart, knew how to work on engines and could shoot straight. I knew how to do nothing before him.

  I was lonely then. Really lonely. The memory of my girlfriend was still raw. So, I did the dumbest thing I could—I decided to love him. We were meant to be each other’s sanity in the mess going on. Not anything more, not anything less.

  The brothers came next. When we were starting to run out of meds and insulin, we decided to do the dumbest thing. I knew the hospital near the fort had insulin and the medications we may have needed in the future. I didn’t know the conditions that were going on there though.

  We went in and Trenten never came out.”

  �
��Jesus,” I respond. “What happened?”

  “The hospital was chaos. The brothers and I were able to make it out with what we needed while Trenten—Trenten was killed.”

  “So you let yourself get sick even though the guy died for you? Come on, Nikia—you lectured me on that two years ago.”

  She shakes her head and laughs. “Yeah, I did, didn’t I?”

  “Get better and monitor your blood sugar for fuck’s sake,” I say nudging her shoulder. “We’re all gonna make it through this.”

  She looks at me with a half-smile which fades into a grimace then, shakes her head.

  Out Like A Lamb: January, 2016

  “So Hunter will find animals for us?” a girl named Madison says.

  I pinch the bridge of my nose between my fingers. “He’ll flush them out of their hiding spots, but he’s not going to do all the work for you. He’s more for bird-type hunts.”

  “How do you tell where the birds are?”That one is Joshua.

  “Do you shoot them with a pistol or a rifle?”Alex, maybe?

  “We have to shoot the birds while they’re flying—like in the air?” I don’t know who that youngin’s voice was.

  “Are we only gonna shoot BB guns today?”

  “Guys,” I say. I let out a sigh. “Enough learning for today. Go to your beds, get some food in your system and tomorrow we’ll start off with target shooting and gun safety again.”

  I sit on a bench and watch the rest of the youngin’s shuffle off towards the house. “Given up already?” I turn to see Doc leaning against the fence.

  “I forgot what it was like teaching people from scratch. I should’ve expected this. Hayley couldn’t figure it out when we running for the fort, and she was an adult.”

  “Anyone got any natural talent?” he says sitting next to me on the bench.

  “There’s a couple hopefuls, but most of them have never fired any type of weapon before. Not even Nerf blasters.”

  “Well we definitely have enough BBs and paintballs to last us years of practice,” he responds. “They’ll hopefully get the gist of it with those.”

  “God, I hope so. I don’t know how much longer, One, Two, Nikia and I can keep going on these runs.EspeciallyNikia. How’s she doing by the way?”

  “Her blood sugar is stable,” Doc says cracking his knuckles. “She’s no longer on the IV drips of potassium and insulin. And she said her blood doesn’t feel like its on fire anymore.”

  “What are the long-term effects of what she’s been through?” I don’t really want to know the answer to that, but it’s the only thing that will make me want to go on today’s supply run.

  “An earlier death, that’s for sure,” Doc responds shaking his head. “To be honest Xavier, I don’t know much about long-term side effects. I was a dentist before all this, remember?”

  “Regardless, I’m assuming that it isn’t going to be good news for her.”

  “You’re assumptions are probably right,” he says. “Go get some sleep. I’m here to relieve the tower watch on this side.”

  “Thanks.” I whistle for Hunter, and he comes barreling across the backyard, away from the kids playing fetch with him. We walk together towards the house in silence.

  “Hope I don’t die today.”

  * * *

  I wake up to the thwacking of paintballs exploding. My eyes open to my pillow on top of my face. Hunter lays on his back next to me with his head on his pillow, the covers neatly wound around him.

  I sit up in bed and stretch while looking out my window. The girl named Georgia is on her stomach on the ground firing a paintball gun at a swinging target hanging from an overgrown tree branch. With each pull on the trigger, another thwack confirms she’s hit her mark. I open my window and stick my head out.

  “Hey!”

  She jumps at the sound of my voice and hits the front my truck with a fluorescent pink paintball. She looks up at me, and her cheeks turn a bright red. “Sorry,” she calls up to me.

  “No worries. You got a good shot. Remind me after the supply run to let you fire a real gun tomorrow.”

  A huge smile spreads across her face. She looks down at her paintball gun and then nods her head. “I will,” she says.

  I close the windows—Hunter twitches in his sleep because of the noise. “Sorry bud.”

  A knock at the door makes us both jump. “Hey Xavier, you ready?” One yells from the other side of the door. “Take the lead out of your pants. We gotta go.”

  Hunter lifts his head from his pillow to look up at me and then with a thump, it falls back down.

  “Thanks for defending me. Jerk.”

  One opens the door and tosses my book bag at me. “Come on. Daylight’s burning,” he says.

  “Where we heading this time?”

  “Fort View Inn,” he responds jogging down the stairs. “It’s the only place we can think of that hasn’t been raided yet.”

  “Or a good way to run into a group who doesn’t want us there.”

  “Either way, we’ll be prepared.”

  “How many of us are going?”

  “Well Princess Nikia isn’t one hundred percent yet,” he says. “Doc says she’s still got a couple of hours to be solid enough for a run so, we’re leaving her behind.”

  “So just you, me, and Two?”

  “Yup.”

  “Fuck.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Hey guys,” Two says from the truck. “Got the bed loaded up with as much ammo as I could—”

  “Excuse me?” All three of us turn towards the voice from behind us. Georgia stands with her hands folded in front of her covered in the bright pink paint that was on my truck. “You don’t want to go to the Fort View Inn.”

  “And why’s that,” Two asks.

  “It was overrun years ago,” she says in a quiet voice. She clears her throat and straightens herself out. “My parents and I went there before we came here. Your best bet would be to check the smaller hotel closer to the fort.”

  “Nah,” I respond. “I used to stay there. A group of Wendigos cleared out the stock someone had left behind.”

  “Cleared the stock for that week,” she responds. “Someone is planting that stuff there. It could be someone from the fort. Maybe you could find out.”

  One, Two and I look at each other with our mouths hanging open slightly. I look back at Georgia and smile. “Thank you.”

  “I just figured it would be easier for you to get some medicine from them by piggy backing off of their runs,” she says. “Maybe.”

  “Where we heading?” Nikia’s voice says from the doorway to the house.

  “Nikia, go back inside,” One says.

  “You need me for this run,” she responds tossing her book bag into the back of the truck bed. “So—the old hotel near the fort?”

  “Nikia—”

  I slap my hand into One’s chest to prevent him from talking more. “We need all the firepower we can get. Don’t argue with her now.”

  One looks at me, then to Nikia and shakes his head. “Whatever, your funeral.”

  Nikia swallows down the look that crawls into her eyes. She climbs into the back seat of my truck without another word. Georgia stands with her hands folded behind her back.

  “Thanks,” I say again. “The tip means a lot.”

  “Sure,” she responds with a half smile. “No problem.”

  “You standing guard tonight?”

  “No, Aaron is.”

  “Good. Get a good night’s rest. We’re shooting tomorrow.”

  She smiles and nods her head before backpedaling away. Promising that to her makes me feel like my chances of survival are through the roof.

  The Truth

  “Well, that was a bust,” Two says.

  “Better than going to a place that was raided months ago,” I respond.

  “That you have to accept, Two,” One say.

  “So, where to next?” I say throwing my book bag into my brown truck. After
Nikia’s mishap with the Jeep years ago, it was voted that the truck was mine, and it would only be driven by me.

  One wipes blood off of his blade onto the fleece of his jacket. He slides the machete back into its sheath and lets out a sigh. “We’ve got to find more insulin, amoxicillin, tetracycline.” He adjusts his hat and wipes blood from his face. “I don’t know, Xavier.”

  “How much gas you got left,” Two asks loading another round into his Chief pistol.

  I peek into the car window. “Looks like half a tank,” I respond.

  “Hell, I don’t know how far that’ll take us,” he says slipping his pistol into its holster. “Everywhere around here is bone dry—”

  “What about the hospital by the fort?” We all turn and look at Nikia. She folds her arms across her chest. “It’s the one place we haven’t looked in years—”

  “Yeah and for good reason too!”

  “One—”

  “Have you lost your damn mind?”

  “If that place hasn’t been burned to the ground by now, it definitely will be if we go in there,” I respond. “I went after I was shot outside the fort. It was a god-damned bloodbath.”

  There’s silence between the four of us. I knew what that silence meant. It meant that we were going straight into the fire—nothing we’d say would change that.

  “How much ammo does everyone have,” I ask.

  “I used my blade in that hotel,” One responds.

  “Only used two shots in my good ol’ Chief,” Two chimes in.

  “I’ve got a backpack full,” Nikia answers. She wipes off a layer of sweat from her forehead. I look at the rest of her and can tell she needs another dose of insulin. “What?”

  “Your blood’s hurting you,” I comment. “You’re gonna go into shock if you—”

  “I know how my disease works, thank you very much. Let’s go.” Nikia climbs into the truck and slams the door behind her. The brothers and I give each other the same furrowed-brow look and climb into the truck.

  I turn over the engine and pull out of the parking lot. We ride in silence as we make our way towards the hospital. “You’re going to have to keep up with us Nikia,” One says looking out the front windshield.