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There's a little place that Evan wants us to go, out by Highway 68 next to the gas station. It's a little house, kind of rundown but what isn't nowadays? He didn't tell us much about it, but he says it will be safe and we have nowhere else to go (besides the caverns, where Zombie is determined we go), so it looks like that's where we're staying.
Zombie and Poundcake go to the diner across the street for the CO2 canister. Dumbo takes hall patrol. I end up being in charge of the kids, which is probably the worst possible thing in the history of the world. I don't like kids. When I'm around kids, I get attached to kids. And kids die fairly often nowadays, so it's not fun when you're attached to the stupid, innocent kids.
Megan is lying down when I open the door. I glance back to see if Sam is coming, see him talking to his sister about guns, and turn back to Megan. She's sitting up now, full Michael Myers style. She stares at me for a really, really long minute, bug-eyed and innocent. Then, with a croaky and deeply concerning voice, she asks: "Are we going to die?"
And what the hell am I supposed to say to that? Yes, no, maybe? I don't know, Megan. I don't have the fucking answers for you. You may be five, but I'm still a kid, too. I don't know.
Sam shoves past me, barrels into the room with Private Bear, and thrusts the stupid thing in to Megan's arms. "Here."
She stares at Sam, confused and shocked. I'm 99 percent sure that this is the first time someone has even looked at her like a kid and not a girl that previously had a bomb in her throat. Even I was looking at her like that until 12 seconds ago.
"Thanks." Megan cradles the bear in her arms and holds him tight. She looks back at me. Where's my answer? I glance behind me. Maybe it's in the hall, Megan.
I close the door and walk to Teacup's pack. Turns out she didn't even bother taking it with her when she ran off to find Ringer, probably too hyped up on mommy issues to think clearly.
"That's Teacup's," Sam says, like I didn't know that.
"Well, Teacup is probably dead, so now it's Megan's." I pull out a dark purple sweater, blue jeans, sneakers, underwear. Teacup's clothes for the Urbana Caverns. Teacup's clothes. Probably-dead-Teacup's clothes.
"Ghost?" Sam is wondering what I'm doing, why I'm tearing up over a couple battered items of clothing. Because she's a kid, Sam. Because she chose Ringer and Ringer was obviously the wrong choice.
"Stand in the corner and let Megan change," I order.
"I don't have to listen to you, you're not in charge," Sam says.
"Zombie put me in charge while he's gone," I lie.
"Why would he do that?"
Ouch.
"I'm in charge, so don't ask me questions I don't wanna answer," I say. I point to the corner. "Move it."
Sam does. I toss Megan the clothes and turn around. Silence. After a couple minutes of hearing the little girl shuffle around, she taps my thigh. I turn around, tell Sam he can do the same.
"My throat hurts," Megan croaks. I frown. Not hiding another bomb in there, is she?
I go back to the pack. Teacup's canteen is under the granola bars we found in the basement with the bodies. I pass both to Megan. Teacup won't be using them.
Sam sits on the bed beside her. "Cassie won't let me have a gun."
"That's the least of our worries right now, alright, kid?" I say, turning back around. I go stand by the door, listening closely. Dumbo is out there, walking up and down the hall, waiting for Zombie and Poundcake to come back.
"I'm a soldier," Sam snaps. "I'm not a little kid anymore."
I sigh. "Okay... soldier. But you're still not getting a gun."
"Still not fair," he growls.
"I don't care!" I'm the one snapping now. Teacup and guns and kids with bombs shoved down their throats and teddy bears dragged through hell. It's all too much. "Nothing is fair anymore, okay?" Three feet from the door, pointing a blood-coated finger at a little kid who can't get it through his head that the world just sucks and there's nothing we can do about it. "Six months ago, I was sitting with my 5-year-old brother watching Disney movies, and now? Now he's dead, and I'm babysitting two little kids, and one of them is begging to carry a military issued weapon! Not to mention the fact that there's an alien sitting in the other room, trying to help us blow up a bomb that other aliens shoved down a little girls throat!"
Sam blinks. Out of all of the people he expected to lose their cool, I was the least expected. The surgeon in the operating room, hands steady and deep inside a chest cavity. The pilot of the Black Hawk in the snow storm. The sergeant of the squad heading into battle.
"Are you okay?" Megan asks timidly, watching me.
I let out a deep breath through my nose. "I'm fine, Megan." I go back to the door. I don't hear Dumbo moving around anymore. Maybe Zombie's back. "I'm gonna go check on Bo. Lock the door until I get back."
Something smashed against the wall in the other room.
I open the door. I hear Cassie shouting: "Get out, Sam! Get them out, Ghost! Get Zombie!"
I see the woman coming, then, all blonde and supermodel looking, racing towards me with superhuman speed. I slam the door shut, flick the lock, and whip around to shout at Megan and Sam to get their things-- we're going to have to get the fuck out of here.
The knob wiggles and something slams into the door, almost busting it off of it's hinges. The sound of bones crunching and then someone gasping for air, and then that same person being silenced as whoever the crazy bitch threw them down the hallway. The sound of the supermodel's voice: "Stay there."
I see her feet through the slits at the bottom of the door. My pistol comes up to level at the door, right about where her head should be.
