Chapter Five—Kyra
So much for peaceful writing. That didn’t go as planned. I sigh and slam my journal shut. Around the shed are discarded newspapers. I pick one up and flip through it. A headline catches my eyes: BOY MISSING. The article is about a boy who was treated with “The Cure” for his cancer. He somehow managed to escape from the high security facility he was in and so the scientists and his family were trying to locate him. They said it was urgent and necessary that he was found soon and returned. The boy had been a soldier in World War Three, which could be where he acquired the skills to break out of the treatment residence. There’s a picture too. It used to be in colour, but it wasn’t exactly stored in perfect conditions. The ink has faded and the colours have become distorted. Nonetheless, the boy in the picture looks handsome and sad. His hair is—or was—buzzed off for cancer treatment I am assuming. Or maybe it was when he just joined the army. The colour of his eyes is long gone, but the expression on his face can still be seen. He looks partially sad, but also a little angry at whoever is taking his picture. I wonder where he is now.
I toss the paper away and try not to think of horrible, gory, undeniable possibilities that have happened to all those “treated” with “The Cure”. I contemplate staying out here like a brat but decide that maybe I should try to fix things with Arch. Too be honest, I’ve never really been good at staying mad at people. I open my door and almost walk into a fist.
“Well, that was weird,” Archer says.
“Yea, you nearly punched my face,” I laugh.
“Hey! That’s not how it went. You nearly walked into my fist with your face! There’s a difference you know.”
“That’s what you were trying to stage it to make it look like. Too bad I foiled your plans with my genius-ness.”
And just like that everything is better. Well, almost everything.
Archie opens his arms and I hug him.
“I’m sorry,” we say at the same time.
“You first,” he insists.
“I’m sorry for making it seem like I was calling you names and making fun of you. And for calling you a hypocrite. I’m happy if you’re happy with Bailey.”
“And I’m sorry for being a dumbass. I shouldn’t get angry if you do something that makes you happy. I swear I’ll be supportive of you and Danno.”
“There is no me and Danno,” I tell him.
“You mean there’s no you and Danno if you don’t try. Give it a go. What’s the worst that could happen, right?” he smiles encouragingly.
“You sure?”
He laughs. “No, I’m never sure. But I do know that you and he have feelings for each other. I just don’t know, and I think you guys don’t know either, what those feelings mean. Might as well try to find out.”
“Maybe you’re right.”
“Aha! So you do like him!”
I punch Arch. “Shut-up before I accidentally make you walk into my fist.”
“That’s a pretty big threat for such a little girl.” He pats my head.
“Hey! Just ‘cause I’m short doesn’t mean I can’t kick ass!” I retort as we start to walk back to the warehouse.
“No, you’re right. It’s because you’re a girl that you can’t kick butt,” he replies.
“Take that back,” I say “threateningly”.
“Make me, leprechaun.”
I chase him into the warehouse and leap onto his back.
“So I see you two made up,” Tammy says as we walk in.
Danno pokes his head out from the storage room. He has dust all over his face. “Hey! You guys are normal again! Well, normal for you two at least.”
“Arch isn’t being grumpy anymore?” Iz steps out of the food storage room followed by Jackie.
“Aw! Everything’s back to the way it was!” she declares.
“Yea, we sorted through our arguments, had a little pep talk, and now Kyra’s going to be brave.”
“Be brave? For what?” Jack asks.
“Facing her fears,” Archie replies. He doesn’t even know my full story yet he totally hit the nail on the head with that one.
“What are you afraid of Boss?” Isaiah questions.
“Parties,” Archer answers for me making everyone laugh.
“It’ll be fun, Boss. We’ll make sure of it,” Daniel says.
“I’ll be counting on it,” I tell him. He smiles his cute smile and goes back to clearing away boxes.
Arch piggybacks me into the ammo room. “See? Now was that so hard?” he teases me.
“Shut-up,” I tell him again.
“I saw you ogling him.”
“I was not!”
“Let me finish, Ms. Defensive. As head of the party committee I am assigning you to box duty with Danno. You can thank me later.” He turns on his heels and quickly exits.
I run to the door. “Wait! Archer! I—”
“No. No waiting. Go before I change my mind,” he says without turning around.
He goes into the boys room and softly shut the door.
I watch the door for a while, waiting for it to reopen. It doesn’t. I take a deep breath and go into the storage room.
“Hey,” I squeak.
Dan turns around. “Hey yourself.” He puts the box down and wipes his hands together trying to brush off the dust that’s accumulated on them. “What are you doing here? Don’t you have some super secret planning to do?” he jokes.
“The big honcho changed his mind. I’ve been assigned to box duty.”
“Well, I guess that sucks for you, but it’s good for me.”
I blush. “So, uh, what do you want me to do?”
“Right now I’m just stacking boxes. I’m sitting on some of them to see how comfy they are. If they’re kinda comfortable I put them against that wall so that we can sit on them,” he explains while gesturing around.
“Got it.”
“So...sorry if I’m being to forward or nosey, but I was just curious as to what’s going on between you and Archer. Don’t feel like you need to answer though,” Dan says. If the situation had been reversed and I had tried to ask him, my phrasing would have turned out a lot more wordy and ramble-y, plus a heck of a lot more awkward.
“There’s nothing between Arch and I. He was just mad at me because I said something and he took it the wrong way.”
“So you two aren’t...” he leaves the sentence open for me to continue.
“Together? Heck no!”
He grins. “All right, thanks.”
“For what?” I ask, confused.
“For telling me. Hey, what do you think about this box, yes or no?”
I sit on the crate beside him. “Hmm, tough call. It’s pretty comfortable compared to the boxes I’ve been stacking though.”
“Fair enough.” He jumps to his feet and lifts up the box with me still on it.
“Danny, put me down!” I laugh and cling to the sides, which does not help very much.
“It’s more amusing this way,” he responds.
He gets to the other side and drops the box, I start to fall, but he catches me.
“Did you really think I’d let you go?” he asks.
“Maybe just for a second,” I admit.
He grins, “That’s the same amount of time I actually considered it.”
“Danny!” I laugh and swat him.
We joke around and stack crates. In no time, the work is done.
“Okay, I am confident there is a Time God now,” Daniel announces as he crosses his arms and studies our work. We went around to all the other rooms and took out their boxes and brought them in here too. We then arranged all the crates deemed “comfortable” into the lounge.
“Now what?” he questions.
“Well I don’t care what Archie says, but I am washing off. This place is filthy!”
He glances at his own hands. “Yea, you’re right.”
“If you think your hands are bad, you should see your face and hair,” I giggle.
He pulls on one of his curly locks making it straight. He goes cross-eyed as he tries to see it causing me to almost collapse in laughter.
“I look like I have gray hair!” he says, shocked.
“I know!” I gasp.
“You’re not all that bright and clean yourself.”
“I’m cleaner than you.”
“Wanna bet on that?”
“Sure.” I stick my hand out for him.
He walks over and instead of taking hold of my hand, he shakes his hair at me.
“Daniel!” I shriek and run out the door.
He chases me around the building. I weave in and out of rooms trying to outrun the track star. Izzie steps into the hall and I dive behind him, using him as a human shield.
“Boss! You are covered in dirt! Don’t touch me, I have decorations to make beautiful,” he scowls at me.
“Just don’t...let him... get me,” I pant.
“Step out of the way, Iz,” Danny tells him, not even the slightest bit out of breath.
“No, no, no, no, no! Don’t do it!”
He steps to the side and Danno lunges, grabbing me around the waist.
“Best two out of three?” he jokes.
“Only if you want me to have a heart attack! We’re not all made for running you know.”
“So we’ll wash up then?”
“You better! I don’t want you nasties ruining my decorations,” Isaiah states.
“Yes father,” Dan chuckles.
We go to the food storage room and slide against the wall because Jackie doesn’t want us contaminating the food. We take one of the buckets of semi clean water and two washcloths outside to scrub our hands and faces clean.
“How am I going to get this out of my hair?” Dan tries to figure out how to do it with the cloth. When he closes his eyes, I lift up the bucket and dump some on his head.
He cringes as the water pours over him. He rubs the streams away from his eyes. “That was not nice, Kyra Leigh.”
“I thought it was funny,” I giggle.
“Then you’ll find this hilarious.” He takes the pail and tips the rest over my head.
“Should have seen that coming,” I say.
“Yea, probably,” he teases.
We drip inside and grab two scruffy towels. “Your hair is so long when it’s straight!” I notice.
He runs a hand through it and his eyes widen. “That is long,” he agrees. “I’ll need to cut it again soon, but right now, think I should go change,” Danno decides.
“Yea, me too.”
“Although it is rather cool in wet clothes. I hadn’t realized how hot and stuffy it is in here.”
“After I get dressed I’ll open the doors to air this place out.”
“Good thinking. I’ll see you in a bit, Boss.”
He pivots and heads for his room.
“Awwwwwwww!” Tammy coos from behind me.
“Cut it out! He might hear you,” I whisper.
“Is that necessarily a bad thing?”
“Uh, yes!”
“Touchy, touchy. So...are you admiring his ass?” she purposefully says with just the right amount of volume so that it is loud enough for Danno to hear. He looks over his shoulder and smirks before ducking into the door, gently shutting it behind him.
I unblinkingly gaze at his door. He didn’t... He wouldn’t think that I would...
“That was cruel,” I monotonously say to Tam.
She titters and shakes her blonde head. “Go get into dry clothes before you get malaria.”
“You don’t get malaria from being in wet clothes.”
“Stop debating the details and get dressed!”
“Fine,” I laugh and go into our room.
...
“Boss! You’re not doing it right!” Isaiah scolds and snatches the streamers from my hands.
“I didn’t know there was a proper way of hanging streamers,” I grumble.
“That’s because you don’t treat it like an art.”
“I don’t treat it like an art because it’s not. Did Van Gogh have a job of hanging streamers? Was De Vinci a master streamer hanger? No.”
“Such a sceptic,” he replies.
“How’s it done then?”
“Like so...” He twists the streamer as he walks backwards, stands on a box, and tapes it to the ceiling. “See that? It’s all twisty and nice. Not dumb and boring like yours.” I have to admit, it does look a lot better than just a plain old streamer taped to the ceiling.
“I didn’t know you were so passionate about streamers.”
“I’m not, I think they’re pointless and, quite frankly, weird, but if we’re using them they might as well look good.”
“Interesting logic,” I remark.
“I’m not sure if that was a compliment or not, but I’m going to say thank anyway. So, thanks,” he answers.
I stroll around the warehouse watching everyone get ready for tomorrow. I was completely against the idea at first, but now I’m switching sides. Planning and preparing have brought us together in a way fighting never could. We’re joking around, having a good time, and learning more about the people we’re living with. Maybe a monthly thing like this wouldn’t be so bad. Danno’s packing up all the extra stuff so that we can leave bright and early the day after tomorrow. Graham and Jackie are in the kitchen, Archie’s decorating with Tams and Isaiah, and Bailey is still on the roof. I climb up the ladder.
She’s sitting in a foldout chair, legs crossed, hair billowing in the wind, looking out at nothing. Bails doesn’t even notice my arrival. It looks like she posed for a photo shoot, not acting as watch guard while in the middle of a zombie apocalypse. It figures that some people can still be beautiful even in the face of death. I sigh, and still my presence goes unnoted.
“Hey Bailey,” I say. I’ve never really had a one-on-one conversation with just her and I around before.
She doesn’t even turn towards me to answer, “Hi.”
“You’ve been up here for awhile so I thought maybe you’d want to trade? Everyone’s having a really good time down there and I was wondering if you’d like to join them for awhile?” Everything comes out sounding like a question.
Finally, she looks at me. “Listen Kyra, I don’t know what you’re up to, but stay out of my way, got it?” Her blue eyes blaze with cold fire and I find myself unconsciously taking a step away.
“Pardon?” I question, completely baffled.
She snorts and tosses her hair, reminding me of one of those show ponies. “Stop being all whiny and sulky, trying to get Archer’s attention. It is really pathetic. And stop using Danny. That’s just completely bitchy manipulating his feelings like that.”
My face contorts in confusion. “I’m sorry, but I have no idea what you’re talking about I’m not—”
“Okay, stop. Just stop. All of them are stupid for listening to your every word and following it like it’s a law. I am not beneath you like the others, all right? And I am not giving up Archer for you. So you can just back off.”
Before I can respond, she hopes down the ladder with a screechy, “Archie!” and runs to him.
I’m left stunned on the roof. Today is turning out to be such a weird day.
...
“Party! Party!” Tamsyn hoots at 6:30 in the morning.
I groan and roll over. “Surely parties don’t start this early in the day,” I mumble.
“Not usually, but this is a special party. I decided we’re starting off with games. Izzie found Twister in the store. I was thinking it’s kind of like morning yoga, right? So we can play that! Won’t it be marvellous?!” Tam dances around the room getting ready.
I stand up and stretch. “You know what, I think I am going to take the first watch.” I take out a faded blue shirt and my sweatpants from my bag.
“Boss! Don’t be like that! Today’s a fun day!” she pouts.
“I’ll join you later in the day, I’m just going to, you know, scout for danger and whatnot.”
“Fine. But you are joining us soon. Like really, really soon. Promise?”
“I promise,” I agree as I walk out the door. I quickly run out to the shed barefoot to retrieve my journal from where I left it the day before. I also grab one of the books of poetry I took when I left home. I stroll back inside and poke my head into the food storage room.
“Porridge me,” I say to Graham who’s cooking breakfast.
“Bossy, bossy, Boss,” he jokes as he hands me a bowl. In the short time he’s spent with Jackie, he has really changed. He’s not so quiet and invisible anymore. He’s actually really funny and just all around awesome. It’s like there was a mind-blowingly incredible individual in that pretty little mind of his that just needed to be prodded with a stick before it reared its spectacular head.
“Thanks, cowboy,” I tease as I skip to the ladder, climbing up with one hand.
I settle into one of the chairs and curl my legs under me. The mornings are cool here, wherever here is. I’ve never been really good at geography and a lot of the signs have been destroyed. We have no idea where we are which is a weird feeling, but a fitting one.
We don’t know where we are physically, mentally, even emotionally. It’s like the world is reflecting out inner state of mind, our confusion and fear and pain. Maybe if we all just thought happy thoughts, like Jackie and Graham, the Earth would change. Or possibly it is just us who change and therefore, to us, the outside world alters as well. Whatever. That’s enough philosophy for one morning.
I chow down on the warm lumpy breakfast, unaware of how hungry I really am until food is in front of me. I scrape the sides, not wanting to waste any. After that I open the poetry book and immerse myself in a world of rhythm, rhyming, and beauty, the complete opposite of the one I am in now.