"You kissed me." Victor teased, nudging his elbows into my rib cage.
"Well you better have enjoyed it because that is the last time that I am ever kissing a ginger." I spat, digging my elbows back at him.
"I guess that means that I'll just have to kiss you." He winked under the glow of my flashlight, smirk growing.
"I think I'll pass."
"Why'd you kiss me when you thought I was dead? You got a thing for me or something?" He stole my flashlight, beaming it down on me as he held it out of my reach.
"Give it back Victor." Ordering him with a firm tone, I stretched out to reach the flashlight.
"Do you?"
"No. I don't." I snapped, narrowing my eyes at his teasing. "I did it out of pity. I felt sorry for you."
Taking the palm of my hand and reaching around his back, I pressed it against the burned flesh. Victor's spine arched in pain, crying out as I touched the wound.
"Ow!" The flashlight fell into my open hand. He rolled his shoulders at his irritated skin, mumbling. "Fuck that hurt."
"Too bad the lightning didn't strike the horny out of you."
"Alas, the horny's here to stay." He tried to pose jauntily but hissed and contorted his muscles. "Mmh God my fucking back hurts."
"Alright relax your buggin' arse." Newt interrupted, playing around with his flashlight. "We'll find some lights and we can have Jeff patch you up." He stepped forward, leading us with his light. "Now we just need to find some kinda switch..."
"RAERR" A creature leapt out at us, limbs outstretched to grab Newt. After nearly jumping out of our skin and our group's synchronized yelps, the thing was pulled back at the last second. It wasn't just any only monster, it was a crank.
Others revealed themselves, dropping in chains to keep them only a few inches from us. They were just like the ones we saw in the abandoned mall. One nearly grazed me before I was ripped backward by Victor. Any sense of boyish playfulness he had earlier was gone in a snap.
"Holy fuck!" I gasped, keeping tight hold of Victor's arm. "They're everywhere!" The cranks let out a screeching roar in response, their zombie on rabies way of moving jolting their limbs about. Victor pulled me into his chest, I squeezed his arm seeing no way out. We were trapped, until...
"I see you've met our guard dogs." A coy husky voice came from the darkness. Were we saved? Who was that? A light snapped on, revealing it's owner. A feminine shadow draped itself in the doorway.
"What was that?" Thomas was breathless, flashlight threatening to bob out of his hand. Our group clustered together, being no exception to the rule that strength was greater in numbers.
Like a queen among her subjects, the girlish figure strode between the thick rows of sweaty, cranky bodies.
"Stay back, stay back!" Minho pushed back Chuck, who had been wandering curiously to one of the cranks. I took him from Minho, drawing the boy close.
It didn't matter that what he had done was weird. I still loved him. I promised my self long ago that I'd care for him no matter what.
As the girl came to light, her appearance flooded my view. She was a teenager, around all of our ages. The girl was bundled up in ratty clothing, moth holes poking through the tattered material. Her collarbones protruded, flexing in the flashes of lightning, coming from the windows.
Under her rugged demeanor, she held a certain uncontrollable cuteness to her features. Her face was roundish, cheeks prominent, a button like nose, and big eyes that sparkled in the light.
Of course I couldn't miss her hair either. It was shorn short, tight to the scalp, almost like a pixie cut. I imagined that one day she got fed up with her hair and wielded herself with a pair of sharp scissors to attack her once long tresses.
The thing I liked about her most was that she was clean. Scrubbed olive skin shone under the unlit area. I could practically smell her from here.
I wouldn't say that she smelled lovely or feminine, but she smelled masculine if that makes any sense. She smelled like the boys after they would finally shower in the glade. An undertone of musk coated with frosty soap. However aside from all of that, it was when she spoke that made me like her even more.
"You guys look like shit." Her mouth remained nearly flat, except for the slight curl the corners of her lips made. She was amused, intrigued with us perhaps. "Come on, follow me." The girl turned to lead us toward the artificial light, she called over her shoulder. "Unless you wanna stay here with them."
Giddiness sparked in me, my heart nearly jumped out of my throat when I heard the raspy way her syllables delivered themselves. A dumb smile sat on my face as I spaced out in wonder. I was the first to follow her.
We ventured through the shining door, full of light, deeper into the abandoned a warehouse. Glass panes glittered on the walls, some broken, shards sparkling on the floor beneath them. How long had she been taking refuge here? Was there more of her? Were there more people?
She had a strong way of walking, I could tell from behind, her hidden hips moving back and forth rhythmically and firmly.
Thomas felt the need to take the lead and stepped in front of me, taking my place. As annoying as it was, I understood. Thomas was a naturally curious being, so was I, that's something we had always shared.
"How do you catch them?" He inquired, voice carrying up into the levels of the warehouse and bouncing off walls.
"Catch them?" The girl scoffed, I couldn't see her face but I imagined her eyes rolling along with her words. "What, do you think we're stupid? We don't catch them. We just take precautions when people start to turn."
Fires burned from huge metal shaped cans, keeping the cement structure lit and oddly warm. The atmosphere was comfortable in a setting that shouldn't be.
We passed two men in lounge chairs, swathed in layers. They were playing cards casually, as if the zombie apocalypse wasn't in current effect. Was this we? Or were there more people?
We passed a hulking bald man, his predatory eyes glinting across each of us like we were pieces of meat at a market.
"Hey," Teresa sidled up next to me, doing the subconscious action of her pressing up against my shoulder. I wondered if the dream I had was the thing that had caused our divide, or was there more? "Those things out there are your friends? You just chained them up?"
"No worse than cutting them loose to crank land." The girl said with a nonchalant air to her.
"What the hell's crank land?" Frypan looked back in a cautious manner at the eerie stranger.
"Well I suppose it's like Disney Land or Murder Land or Zombie Land." I nudged him in jest with my elbow, my quick mouth caught the girl's attention.
"You guys aren't from around here, are you?" She walked backwards, her eyebrows teasing us as they arched. Her eyes caught mine, taking me in. My pulse quickened. She turned back around, satisfied with my discomfort.
The girl heaved back a heavy looking door with minimal effort, allowing us to pour into another room. She's strong, I noted. The door clanked angrily against it's wall, bouncing back slightly in it's passion.
Golden light glorified the spacious warehouse, making it seem more like a grand ballroom than a bum camp. Little tents made the space a village, it's own society buzzing and congregating, surviving.
"Wow." Frypan delivered in a gentle exhale, an awed look on each of our face made us match. Flickering fires crackled in the tin cans, blooming on each side of us as we walked past them, it was like an aisle of fire, of home.
People, families, lovers twinkled about. Some sleeping, some talking, some awake, all fighting tooth and nail to stay alive. A mother clutched her child close, kissing the top of it's head. An ache reverberated in me, like someone was holding my breath captive. I turned my face from them.
"Come on, keep up. Jorge wants to meet you." The short haired girl demanded my attention, leering at me suspiciously at my slow pace. My legs suddenly picked up their pace as if some kind of spastic uncontrollable speed burst onto me.
"Who's Jorge?" Thomas's backpack bounced as he questioned the girl. She took her time answering, knowing that each moment she kept quiet drew us further into a delicious inquisition.
"No one's come out of the scorch in a long time." She said coolly, her voice doing that subdued rasp again. "You've just got him curious." The girl glanced behind, eyes trailing on us from head to toe. She simpered, looking pleased with herself. "Me too."
"You've got a name with that curiosity?" I asked, hoping to charm her with my wit. Even if I wasn't washed, or dressed crisply, or made up with painted lips, I could always cling onto my sharp mouth.
"Depends, do you?" She rivaled, her boots making pleasant thuds on the cement. I pushed through Thomas and Teresa to walk beside her, entranced by someone who could match me.
"I asked you first."
"And I asked you second."
"You can call me whatever you like."
"Well I've got a name so you can't choose mine for me." The girl flashed her pooling brown eyes toward me, fire flickering in their reflection. "I'm Brenda."
"Brenda." I repeated after her, my tongue felt light saying her name. The name felt warm and powerful, it had some richness to it. "I like it."
"Thanks." Compliments are what flattered her. Dimples sweetened her face, she turned away as a smile crept on her face, trying to force it away. Once she regained her composure, she named me. "I think I'll call you charming."
"Why charming?"
"Because you're too charming for your own good. You're dangerous, a sweet talker." Brenda labeled me carefully, her gaze straining to see me, double checking to make sure she hadn't missed anything about me.
A sweet talker huh, is that what she really thought about me? She wasn't wrong. Newly identified, I let the cluster of my friends swallow me, giving up my place in the front.
I might've been mistaken but I could've swore I'd seen Teresa's lips purse, her eyebrow draw further inward, eyes narrowing slightly.
Could such a minor interaction with another girl cause her to be angry? Was it anger or was it something else? Something riper, fresh, stinging, sweltering? Jealousy? I wouldn't be too surprised after my dream.
We started up a set of industrial stairs. First Brenda, then Thomas, then Teresa, and almost me before I was stopped.
"So now we're taking in strays?" The man from earlier gruffed, blocking the stairwell with a thick arm. He straightened his spine, taking pleasure in having power over someone smaller than him. Someone like me. And I hated it.
"That's not what I would call us exactly, you on the other hand-"
"What'd you say?" I was cut off by Minho. His protectiveness activated and prideful nature bruised. He snaked his way to the small of my wrist, tugging me behind him. He stared the man right in the eye as if daring him to speak, daring him to utter one word, giving him a look that said try-me-please-I-will-tear-your-sorry-ass-apart.
"Back off Barkley." Brenda ordered, sauntering down the steps. "Jorge saw them first." She held a gleaming switchblade, letting Barkley catch sight of it before clicking it back into place. He relented, submitting to her and removing his body, allowing us to pass.
We went up the stairs like a trail of ants, shuffling up one by one. Step after step, we hiked our way up. Not stopping till we reached the very top of the warehouse. Chestnut and gold colors fawned in the atmosphere, painted on by legitimate lights strung up overhead.
A man sat at a desk, stationed at a squealing radio, fiddling with it. Frizzled feedback answered him. He was mumbling something to himself and maybe to the radio too.
"Jorge," Brenda addressed the mad scientist like man with his back turned to us. "They're here."