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Ten minutes later, Zombie is watching Teacup and I'm trying hard not to lose control again. I'm sitting cross-legged beside Oompa and staring at the worried face of Zombie. He wants Poundcake and Ringer to return, I'm sure. They haven't been gone long but we lost a member and every second feels like an eternity that's supposed to end in death but never does.
"Flint, watch her for me," Zombie orders, probably going to look for Ringer and Poundcake. I don't have the energy to tell him not to go alone.
"You're the one who gave the order," he snarls. "You watch her."
I almost completely lose it on Flintstone when he doesn't listen to Zombie's orders, lips curling up into a snarl, snatching my rifle from it's resting spot beside me. Dumbo springs up and asks me what I'm doing but I don't answer and keep moving towards Flintstone with the weapon in my hand. He tenses and glares at me under his big, busby unibrow that looks completely ridiculous and unnerving all at once.
"Ghost," Teacup croaks. She's hugging her legs, forehead pressed against her upraised knees. I shove past Flintstone, shoulder knocking against his, crouching in front of the fragile girl. Her headband fell off sometime during the run and her ponytail had long since fallen out. I don't know what to say to her so I place my M16 next to hers and kneel behind her, hands tangling in her knotty hair. She doesn't even look up as I braid her hair in a tight french braid and wrap a thick rubber band around the end.
Zombie leaves. Dumbo goes back to cleaning his hands of Kenny's blood. Flintstone can't look away from Oompa's body. If he gets sick again, he better go outside. It smells bad in here enough as it is.
Flint tells me we shouldn't leave Kenny in here to rot. The least we can do is put him in a nice ass car. It's finally something we can agree on. I grab his legs and Flint grabs his arms and we lift, slippery crimson blood pooling at our feet and creating a trail to the BMW we stash him in. I remember he told me he always wanted one. It's the least I can do. The one and only gift I can give him. He was such a sweet kid.
Zombie and Ringer want to go and take out the sniper. They argue with Flintstone about just staying here, but I don't bother. I know what I'm doing regardless of permission. "Teacup and I will take the perimeter."
Zombie shakes his head. "You should both stay--"
"She's not staying with the body of her dead best friend," I hiss. Everyone silences. No one has had the nerve to say the word dead yet, except me. No one is shocked that I'm the first to say it. It's not surprising. Ringer nods.
"Let's move out."
Teacup doesn't speak. I wonder what she is thinking about-- death? That's what is on my mind as we inch around the corner of the garage and crouch low behind a car. Tank died. Oompa died. We all will eventually, and I only have one question-- who next? The seven-year-old crouched next to me with wide, brown eyes? The one who worships the ground I walk on because I remind her of her sister and everything she's ever wanted to be?
