Red Rover | gxg | Wattys 2023 Winner | ✔

(5) Telemarketer of the Apocalypse

"I didn't peg you as the type to lose faith in humanity," says Calico J with the slip of a smile.

"Look, I've watched first-time campers lose their minds because their canoe came untied and blew away and they were three days out of cell service. People go nuts when their world disintegrates. That's just reality."

I'm alive, and it's not because I went around talking to people immediately after Red Thursday. Nobody here needs to know I didn't talk to people because I was too damn scared to crawl out from under my blankets, but that's not the point. The point is that we're all alive here because we've found a pattern that works, and I'd rather keep it that way. If it's not broken, don't fix it, and all that. I've been working hard not to break it.

"People go nuts?" says Ditzy with a light tug on my braid. "Says the one who I've never seen so much as scream in a Sleeper attack."

The twin inputs of implied flattery and her actual hand touching my actual hair slam into me from opposite sides, and my brain short-circuits. Calico J says something I don't hear. Ditzy tugs my braid again, playfully, then bounces it against my back with a coy smile like she's enjoying the Meg-deactivation switch she's found.

A hand appears at the edge of my vision. Calico J swats Ditzy off my hair. "Ditz, I swear to god, leave her alone. I'm trying to have a productive conversation. Go do something useful if you're bored."

"Sleeper-hunting?" says Ditzy with that smile she knows drives me absolutely mad. She slings her bat over her shoulder, forcing Patrick to duck.

Calico J just narrows his eyes, unamused.

Ditzy makes a show of rolling hers. She spins smartly and flounces off. "I'm going to go check out the shed. First dibs on any weapons I find."

"Be my guest," says Calico J. "Don't kill anyone. Please and thanks."

The back screen door bangs shut.

Calico J drags both hands back over his locs with a groan. Well, one hand and his phone. He checks the phone again. A new text blinks on the screen. You there?

Calico J and I look at each other. I don't like this. I can't explain the bad feeling I get from the person on the other end of the phone when we haven't even met them yet, but it's there. Or maybe I'm just getting overly attached to my comfort zone.

"More people means information," says Calico J. "They might have found a cure, if they've got so many people."

That logic makes significantly less sense than most things I hear Calico J say. I give him an incredulous look, and he admits to it.

"Okay fine. Maybe not a cure. But we don't know how much longer cell service is going to stay up, if the electricity goes kaput for good one of these days. If we actually want to meet other people, this is our chance. It's possible they're better-established than we are. Maybe they've found out more? Like the group in the cafeteria did." Before I can remind him what happened to that group, he soldiers on. "They might have more resources than us, too. Like a doctor or something. I know you're good at first-aid stuff, but they could have... I don't know. Someone who could study the Redding properly, or connect back to the internet, if it's still up somewhere. We won't know until we talk to them."

"We can. You're texting right now." Another angle of attack comes to me as I say it. "Even if we assume we're comfortable meeting these people—assuming they're even comfortable meeting us, too—that's another conversation yet. Are we comfortable leaving?"

Patrick looks away.

I see Calico J's eyes drop at the mention. I've almost gotten my hopes up that that's won the argument, but then he shrugs. "If it gives us a chance to talk with more people, I think it's worth it. Even if we have to leave."