Red Rover | gxg | Wattys 2023 Winner | ✔

(24) Oil and Water

"Fuck you!" he screams back at us. His voice is shrill with unmitigated terror. "Fuck you all! I'm not dying here!"

He slips on the sodden ground and goes down on his ass. In seconds more, he's scrambled up and fled across the dawn-grey clearing to disappear down the Maplegrove driveway. The reek of Redding rolls in through the window.

Oreo unleashes a string of curse words, his face a mask of fury and fear as he shouts, "Triple watch tonight! That fucker will be back just like Psy. Fuck!" Before we can move, he's rounded on our group. "You! I should never have let you into our territory; I bet you brought it with you. Strip down before you kill the rest of us!"

Only a visceral fear of the Red Rain keeps me from diving out the window. Before I can move, I'm seized from both sides. A wild shout escapes me. I lash out, kicking and twisting, but I'm overpowered; three of the Anport Rescues take my stick and knife, spin me around, and force me to my knees. They tear my shirt clean down the back, and the whole room goes silent.

I now know how that man felt.

"I knew it," says Oreo with such intensity, his voice quakes.

"Sorry," says Ember, and winds up with her club aimed for my head.

"Touch her and you die."

That icy, deadly proclamation freezes Ember to the spot. I'm facing my companions still, the fist in my hair giving me a view of nothing but their shins and feet. Ditzy, I realize, has really nice feet. In fact, they might just be the most amazing feet I have seen in my life, as they brace against the floorboards in a stance I know the meaning of without needing to look up. Ditzy has her flail poised over her shoulder, and while I've never seen Ember swing her club before, there's a not-small chance Ditzy is faster.

It's a standoff. I don't know who has my weapons, or if they know how to use them. We're outgunned and outnumbered, I'm infected, and something about having my entire life resting in the hands of Ditzy being the faster baseball player snaps what bit of sanity still held back the "me" who responds to crisis situations.

The idea pops into my head of its own accord. It's so crazy, it actually makes me laugh. One of the three people holding me whips his hands off at the sound. That just makes me laugh harder. It's hysterical. I'm hysterical, and if this doesn't work, I'm probably dead. But I'm probably dead anyway. If Ditzy can't strike first without everyone else attacking, I have literally nothing to lose.

"You know," I say with a bit of a wheeze. "Psy did just prove that this is contagious."

I have never in my life been let go so fast. I lift my head and slick my hair back out of my eyes as I turn around. What I find is so outside my realm of comprehension that it sets me laughing all over again, doubled over for a moment as I catch my breath. Every member of the Anport Rescues stands braced with some variant of shock, fear, or anger on their faces. Pasted on their faces, with such comical intensity that they look for a moment like cartoon characters. I half expect their eyes to start popping out of their heads.

My torn shirt tangles around my arms as I unfold myself. I pull it off and discard it. I'm still wearing a sports bra anyway. Still nobody has moved. Now I feel like I'm in one of those cartoon scenes where time slows down for the whole world minus one character. I look around for my weapons. One of the guys who jumped off me is sitting on my hockey stick, but my knife was just thrown to one side of the room. If I dive for it, I can probably grab it before the nearest person does.

A gust of wind sprays rain in the window at our backs. It doesn't say anything, but in that moment, the most bizarre sensation comes over me. I suddenly know, without a shadow of a doubt, that the Redding has found this house.