Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The wind screamed so loudly that Daniela swore what was left of the world could’ve hear it.

The lethal mixture of dust, debris, and disease swarmed every one of her senses. She was facedown, nose and mouth already covered with her bandana, head pressed into her backpack. It wasn’t as bad as outside the remained of 7 Eleven, but still awfully present due to the shattered glass and caved in walls.

Beside her, Lara had her cowl yanked up over her face, which was tucked into the crook of her elbow. There was no saying how long the storm would last. Daniela mentally berated herself for not taking the extra reddened sky and stench of rot more seriously.

She risked looking up from her backpack and found that it was at least simmering down. The corrupted air surely still circulated inside, but it was enough to finish the dig. She kicked Lara with her heel and pushed off of her backpack to explore the rear end of the store.

Lara just kicked her right back, splitting off to search anything that could be left in the busted freezers. Daniela was too impatient sometimes. Sure, Lara was used to it by now, however, she still had to keep her in check somehow. She didn’t know how Sophia did it—always getting her to think harder about her feelings.

Daniela kicked over some dead wires with her boot, clocking an old Slurpee cup. She reached in her small leg rig hooked to her belt for the multitool she kept amongst her dagger, granola bar, and bandaids. Megan would probably like something else for her collage. She carved the 7 Eleven logo out of the styrofoam and shoved it and the multitool bag in her rig.

Lara called from the other side of the store. “Found an old vitamin water. How did someone miss this?”

Daniela took one more look over the scavenged store. Even her and Lara had raided this place too many times to count on one hand, and there was somehow always something new.

They met up toward the center of the store, the candy aisle. The storm was finally ceasing. Both of them knew that it wouldn’t be safe for another couple hours, but which was more dangerous—nightfall or disease?

Lara looked expectantly at Daniela until hazel eyes met brown. “Let’s get out of this hellhole.”

Daniela made sure to measure her breaths when they started the five mile walk back to base. She wanted as little bad air living in her lungs as possible.

For the first two miles, there was just silence and heat.

Then, there was movement other than the bounce of curly hair and glint of several earrings.

Daniela saw it first. A dark hood. Moved as one against the shadows of old buildings, stoplights, and cars. When she turned, it would vanish into the depths of her peripheral vision.

She reached out with her hand, pulling the other girl off the usual path they took back to base. She didn’t stop moving until they both leaned against a broad piece of rubble.

The way the fabric covering Lara’s mouth moved indicated she was going to protest. Her fingers slid to the strap hooking her shotgun to her back.

“What the hell, Dani? It’s already getting dark. We don’t have time for games,” she muttered.

Daniela pressed a finger to the bandana covering her lips. Two crunches directly to their right. Then four more, then two, then—

CRACK!

The bullet whistled right over their heads, driving deep into the rock.

“Go! Go!” Daniela hissed, veering away from the rubble like it was burning her alive and taking off in the direction of the next crumpled building. Lara was on her heels, both bent low while they ran.

Another crack whipped beside them. They didn’t stop moving, not until they passed a fallen billboard that indicated there was only a couple minutes until base.

Daniela leaned heavily against the broken up post. The shooter was gone about a mile ago but they didn’t stop running. Now they paid the price. Both of their breaths came in sharp and shallow waves. Their masks restricted enough air from reaching them.

Lara pulled down her cowl, hand on her chest rising and quickly falling with the rhythm of her breathing. Daniela pulled it back up on her face when she noticed.

“Just five minutes,” she said reluctantly.

***

The door creaked then slammed as Lara pushed it open, still out of breath. The entire mile back she had an on-and-off cough.

Daniela was in only a slightly better shape, sweat dampening her hair and making her curls stick out even more than they normally do without any product.

Sophia whipped her head around, immediately stopping the pacing state they found her in. “Jesus! There you are.”

She rushed to them at once, taking Lara’s rifle off when she was engulfed in another coughing fit that made her double over.

The ruckus drew Yoonchae from one of the back rooms, carrying a stained bag with a faded red cross. Despite being just a kid, she was the one with the most medical experience, usually caring for Megan’s many cuts and bruises.

Daniela helped Lara get off her backpack, dropping it next to her shotgun and discarding her own weapons. Sophia didn’t like to see them around the base. Yoonchae ushered Lara to the ugly green couch to do whatever medical things she normally does.

Sophia’s eyes fell on Daniela next. Her hands went up to cradle both sides of her face, unintentionally wiping away a layer of grime with her thumb.

“What happened out there? The sun’s basically gone down.” Her big brown eyes were filled with heavy relief and the tight fear Daniela knew she was feeling in her chest.

“The storm. Did you guys block all the windows?” Daniela suddenly remembered. She started to look at the house’s open exits when Sophia gently pulled her face back down.

“Yeah. We used the old towels and a couple jackets. Protocol.” Sophia let go of Daniela’s face, instead coaxing her over to the bar stools at the counter.

She briefly vanished down the hallway and returned with a rag and two of the other girls in tow.

“Jeez, you’re looking rough,” Megan chimed.

“Thanks, Mei,” Daniela quipped. She gratefully took the towel and started to wipe down her face.

Another one of Lara’s coughing fits took over the house. Manon’s brow creased in worry. Daniela didn’t stare—Manon had this crazy soft spot for Lara just like Lara refused to ever let Manon on a dig.

Yoonchae popped up from the sofa, supporting a very weak-looking Lara on her shoulder. Manon instantly rushed over to help and the two of them hauled Lara up to her and Manon’s room.

“So, was the dig at least a little successful?” Sophia leaned against the counter, and Megan followed suit.

“Not really. Two vitamin waters.” Daniela jerked a thumb in the direction of Lara’s bag. “Oh, and there’s something for the wack-o in my rig.”

Megan’s face lit up. She scurried over to the pile of discarded bags and weapons and rummaged through Daniela’s rig. A high-pitched squeal indicated she’d found the styrofoam logo.

Then she was gone. Up the stairs to her and Yoonchae’s room—presumably to hang it up like a shrine.

“Aw, you do care,” Sophia teased.

Daniela briefly shot her a look. “Stop it. Not in the mood.”

“You’re never in the mood.” Her tone was light despite the lesson laced underneath. Just like always.

The two of them retreated upstairs to their own room, if it could be called that. A flat mattress and a couple sheets in the corner, a vanity with a mirror and hairbrush and a couple trinkets, and a dresser missing its fourth leg.

Daniela peeled off her jacket and long sleeve, leaving on her base tank top since it had no contamination with the storm’s ickiness. Then her thick cargos and boots that she wore despite the heat, replacing them with the only spare pair of shorts she had.

Sophia didn’t look while she changed, just took the contaminated clothes and piled them up to hopefully be washed later if they could find more water or another pond of some kind.

Daniela finished toweling off and dropped down to the mattress, leaning her head back.

“Are you okay, Dani? You don’t have a cough, do you?”

“No, I’m fine.”

Sophia kicked off her own boots and slipped onto the mattress. “Okay. Do you want to explain why you guys were so late? Even with the storm?”

Daniela visibly took a breath, despite no exhale audible.

She slowly walked Sophia through a reenactment of the shadow with the gun. Sophia didn’t respond—there was always the morning.

Instead, Daniela pulled the sheets up over her shoulders, pressed to Sophia’s side. Sophia gently traced her fingers over Daniela’s hip. Eventually, her breathing slowed into the steady rhythm of sleep.

They would need to call the Unnie Council tomorrow.

***

The Unnie Council was originally created when Yoonchae and Megan were having a fight over one of Megan’s numerous gadgets and collages. Since it ended up that Megan had actually lost her missing gadget while on a dig with Daniela, it was now used for serious matters.

Sophia woke Manon early, who was now constantly wearing a blue bandana around base. Her poor immune system was bad enough pre-end-of-the-world, and now Lara’s potential sickness was incredibly more dangerous to Manon than any of the other girls.

Daniela was waiting for them at the counter, wrapping her hands and forearms with old strips of cloth, bandages, and tape.

“Alright. Unnie Council’s in session. Minus Lara,” Manon breathed.

“Good. I’m going out on the dig alone. You and Manon need to focus on helping Yoonchae and healing Lara. She can’t do it all by herself—she’s scared—you can see it, the way her hair’s all tangled from her twisting it.” Daniela cut herself off. Too vulnerable, too quick.

“Woah. You aren’t going out by yourself,” Sophia commanded. Despite the heavy pull to mention the comment on Yoonchae, she skipped right over it. Her tone left no room for argument.

Without looking up, Daniela answered smoothly, “I am. With Lara sick we need more supplies. Medicine.” She had a way of finding cracks in Sophia’s words. Loopholes Manon wouldn’t notice until it was too late.

Manon nodded, appearing behind Sophia. “I actually agree, Fifi. We need to talk to Yoonchae to see what kind, but Lara needs medicine.”

Sophia pressed on the bridge of her nose. “But you can’t go by yourself. We have to skip the dig today. Focus on reinforcements, inventory, training.”

“I can do it, Sophia. I know this turf. I know the wasteland—you know that I do.” Daniela stood up, palms pressing into the marble.

Manon stilled. Watching. Daniela was a time bomb and Sophia needed to cut the wire.

“No. You will stay here. You and Megan will focus on physical reinforcements of the base. Manon and I will take inventory and mark out rations and the next dig plan. Yoonchae will give us a list of possible meds.”

Daniela’s veins thrummed with early signs of rage. She always woke up angry—it was just who she was now—and sometimes it was just not getting her way that could tick her off.

Manon could feel it. It made the room hot and sticky with tension. She dismissed the Unnie Council and went to get an update from Yoonchae.

Yoonchae didn’t talk much anymore. Her attempts at learning English had slowed and when she did speak, it wasn’t always nice. Daniela was rubbing off on her, not Sophia. Yoonchae fed on her rage; her bitterness at the world. Sophia knew, Manon saw. She was disappointed.

“Yoonie?” Manon rapped on her door, not also wanting to stir Megan in the process.

Yoonchae opened the door quietly, stepping out with her med kit and notebook. They padded into Manon’s room.

Lara laid propped up on the mattress, shivering every couple seconds despite most of the blankets in the house being piled onto her. Her normally warm chocolate skin was paled and cold. Fever.

What really gave away the storm-induced sickness were the thin red lines that outlined her major veins. They were even more present down her neck and forearms.

The sight made Manon feel sick. Her insides twisted up then flipped upside down. Lara was so tough and grounding—confident. Manon strived to be her. Now she wasn’t her perfect image. Just vulnerable.

“What kind of medicine does she need? Dani is going on a dig tomorrow.” Manon broke the uneasy quiet.

“Coughing kind. One for fever…” Yoonchae trailed away, thinking. “Benadryl. Fluids—water, not vitamin.”

Manon didn’t laugh. She nodded slowly. “She’ going to be okay, right?” she whispered, voice cracking in the middle.

Yoonchae nodded without a smile. She felt guilt bubble up in her throat, then a swell of anger. She didn’t know what she was doing, only slightly more than everybody else did. Her eyes traced over Lara, racking her brain for any memories of reading something about sickness or injury treatments. Nothing. There wasn’t a vaccine for the sickness anyway.

Manon led Yoonchae back down the stairs, waking Megan along the way. Her hair was all disheveled and the two pink strands in the front of her face faded by the day.

Daniela was already off somewhere. The left wall shook with the force of something being nailed to it from outside. Sophia was digging through the pantry.

“Dani’s outside, Megan. Can you help her with fixing up the base?”

“She’s in one of her moods, isn’t she?” Megan whined. Then her eyes perked up—this was the perfect opportunity to do absolutely nothing while Daniela brooded in her work. “I’ll be great company, don’t worry! Maybe I can show her the new grenade I’m working on… I named it after her, since it’s a…”

Megan’s voice faded with distance as she continued to ramble on the way out the door. Yoonchae wondered if she was like that before the blast and invasion. The only times she wasn’t crazy was when she was listening to her old Walkman her sister gave her.

Sophia sighed. Daniela might kill Megan.

“Yoonchae thinks anything we can get for fever and cough is good. Lara’s got a good immune system from all the digs, but that doesn’t mean she should recover with a good week of doing nothing,” Manon piped up when the silence returned.

“That’s not good to hear. The issue is when we can go out there to grab it. The closest drug store is farther away than the old 7 Eleven. Dani can’t go out without a partner.” Sophia subconsciously pinched her nose bridge again.

“I could go out,” Manon said with haste.

Sophia shook her head, pointedly looking at her bandana. “No. You’re already at risk with Lara being sick—maybe you should switch rooms with Yoonchae.”

Manon’s voice came back even quicker this time, head shaking so violently her dark curls swayed with the force. “No. I’m staying in there.”

Yoonchae raised her eyebrows with interest that faded slightly into disease.

“Fine. Then I’ll go out,” Sophia suggested. “I can use the handgun—I think that’s great protection,” she said dryly.

“Dani won’t like that,” Yoonchae suddenly spoke.

Sophia and Manon tilted their heads towards the younger, slightly startled with her outburst. They couldn’t tell if that was meant to defend Daniela or push for Sophia to go.

“You guys don’t listen to her.”

“Yoonie…” Sophia warned to no avail.

“No! That’s why she’s so angry all the time! She sees the most out th—“

“That’s not why she’s angry, Yoonchae.” Manon placed her hand on Yoonchae’s shoulders just to be brushed off like it hurt.

“Yeah. She wants to help Lara and you guys won’t let her. You’re being selfish—“

“Enough!” Sophia snapped. She abandoned her place in front of the pantry to close the distance between her and Yoonchae. “I am your leader, the one that you voted for. Don’t talk about things you know nothing about, Yoonchae.”

“Fine! Then tell me!”

Manon clenched her jaw. Yoonchae had an inch or more over Sophia when she was so close. The same beginning of fire Daniela always had in her eyes flickered deep in the brown of Yoonchae’s.

“You aren’t ready, clearly. What you are ready for is helping Manon and I take inventory of all the supplies in the house.”

Yoonchae’s knuckles turned white with frustration balled up in her hands. Unlike Daniela, she still had the fear of Sophia that forced her to submit this time.

She backpedaled, taking four long strides to the cabinets above the island counter and focused her glare inside.

Manon and Sophia had a silent conversation with their eyes. The memory of finding Daniela in the wasteland two years ago had resurfaced to the front of their minds, and clearly it made both of them sick. A different sick than when they found Lara, then Megan and Yoonchae together.

The rest of inventory was quiet. The beat of their hearts would have been the loudest things had Daniela not been hammering on the walls.

Megan was perched on the roof, kicking her feet back and forth and toying with some kind of trinket in her hands.

Daniela held two nails in between her teeth, a flat sheet of wood in one hand, and a hammer in the other. The base wood layer of the house was finished with this last piece, most of the rotting holes covered. Next she would go over the still-sensitive areas with sheet metal. Then repeat times four.

Megan hummed above her. “They were talking about you.”

Daniela didn’t stop hammering, choosing to ignore Megan. “Can’t you go help with the fence or something?”

“Please. You know I’d do it wrong and get yelled at anyway.”

Daniela scoffed. She was right, and for some reason that didn’t make her feel good.

If base was in the middle of a neighborhood, Daniela wouldn’t bother reinforcing it. Draw too much attention. Since it wasn’t, rather positioned down a long, winding driveway covered by an old forest determined to grow back, it was less likely to get raided like the old place they had last year.

When nightfall started to approach, Daniela didn’t go back inside. Megan didn’t either, but given the lack of rambling stuffing Daniela’s ears, she guessed she was sleeping on the roof tonight.

Daniela’s hands were blistered and cracked, littered with splinters in her palms ranging from little to one especially large one. She shouldn’t have taken the wrapping off her arms.

There weren’t even any walls left to fix. The fence and traps could use work. Unfortunately, the one strip of barbed wire they had left wasn’t going to cover much of it.

A creak that sounded like a little more than the wind alerted Daniela that she wasn’t alone. Her eyes searched for the intruder. Maybe it was the shadow with the gun.

Panic spiked in Daniela’s chest, winding down to twist up her stomach. What if she lat herself and Lara get tracked? The storm distracted her so much she didn’t check thoroughly.

A crunch. Squeak of the sheet metal. The shadow with the gun was just around the corner. Daniela inched towards the corner. Surprise was still on her side.

“Dani?” somebody rasped. Not the voice of a shadow. The voice of Sophia.

“I’m here.” Daniela pushed herself off the wall.

“Come inside. I know you’re done with the walls. The banging stopped hours ago.”

Daniela balled up her hands, winced, and quickly released them. Sophia must of heard her hiss, even in the dark and the wind.

But she didn’t say anything. She took a couple steps forward. Daniela hated to be babied—to be nagged. Especially when she was already upset or feeling unheard.

“Okay,” Daniela replied, just over a whisper.

They headed back inside. Sophia closed the shutters and lit a candle with the lighter Megan found and nearly burned down the house with.

“Let me see,” Sophia ordered. Then she checked herself, gauging Daniela’s reaction. “Please.”

Daniela sat on the sofa beside Sophia when she finished her base-check. Very reluctantly, she held out both of her hands.

“Dani…” The words died in Sophia’s throat. She was gone for a second, up the stairs to grab the tweezers, before settling right next to Daniela again.

“You should’ve stopped. You still have a dig tomorrow.”

“I should’ve gone today.”

“No. You can’t go alone. If something happens to you, we wouldn’t have any more fighters.” Sophia held Daniela’s wrist tightly, plucking the smaller splinters first. “And it’s not just that. I wouldn’t forgive myself.”

“Lara needs that medicine. You aren’t listening to me. It wouldn’t be your fault if I—It would only be mine.” Daniela exhaled sharply, from the force of getting her words out or the splinters coming out of her skin Sophia didn’t know.

“I am listening. I’m deciding that you can’t. Tomorrow, I’m coming with you.”

“You can’t decide that for me!” Daniela shouted, breaking the quiet tone set. She pulled her hand away.

“Dani. You have to look at this differently. We need you—not just you to do your job, but you as a person. Everybody here looks up to you, admires you. Think about Yoonchae, think about Megan. Think about Lara, for God’s sake, who might just stop fighting if she knew you came to harm while searching for her medicine.”

Daniela dropped her gaze, unable to bear the electricity that buzzed between her and Sophia. Her anger bubbled up as shame. It normally felt right, justified—not good, but comfortingly present. This was different. It was nauseating.

But she wasn’t going to apologize. Not now. All she could manage was giving Sophia back her hand.

Chapter Text

Megan woke up on the roof. Wavy lines were engraved in her skin, her gadget dangerously hugging on her chest. The sun pried through her lashes until it was so bright she had no choice but to roll over with a dramatic groan.

She slid down the hot metal, falling quite a few feet until her butt hit the ground with a painful thud that paralyzed her for a couple seconds.

“Rude, much? Give me a break, gravity. I just woke up!”

Megan propped herself up on her bows, waiting for her vision to return back to normal. All the windows were shut still, so Sophia must not be awake. Which also meant no breakfast.

That earned another groan out of Megan as she crawled toward the covered square of window. Her knuckles met it three times in a little rhythm. Then three more, then three more, then—

Yoonchae shoved the window open, startling Megan enough to knock her backwards again. Right on top of her already bruised tailbone.

“Shut up, Megan!” Yoonchae yelled down at her.

“Sorry! Don’t get your panties all in a twist. Didn’t you miss sleeping with me last night?”

Yoonchae hesitated. Megan wiggled her eyebrows. She herself had missed sleeping on the top bunk and being able to see Yoonchae read whatever she wrote in Korean in her little yellow notebook.

“No. It was quiet,” Yoonchae fired back, stuttering over her words.

“Uh-huh. You hate quiet. That’s why I talk all the time. Just for you.” Megan winked.

Yoonchae’s face heated up, eyes flickering with an angry flame before Megan could register it.

“Not funny,” she finally decided on.

Megan climbed in through the window and noticed Daniela curled right up against Sophia’s shoulder on the couch. Megan noticed no matter how furious Daniela was with Sophia, there was this invisible tug that drew her back in, especially in sleep.

Manon was the one monitoring the fire in the chimney. Morning was the best time to light one, so most of their cooking was done then. Today, it smelled like baked beans. Gross.

“Can you guys be any louder?” Manon hissed at them, though her tone didn’t carry any venom.

“As a matter of fact, I could be.” Megan lifted her chin.

Yoonchae rolled her eyes.

“Both of you take this up to Lara. Maybe she could use some Megan-cheer.” Manon handed them a warm bowl of beans and a spoon, then another plastic water bottle. “I’ll wake our two sleeping beauties.”

It only took one tap of a foreign hand to wake Daniela, who shot off of Sophia’s shoulder like a nuclear blast hit her. Manon shuddered at her connection.

The warmth seemed to stir Sophia, who took her time getting off the couch. “How late is it?” she yawned.

“Not late. We all woke up early before the sun rose—Lara was having a rough night.”

Daniela’s face tightened. She propped open the rest of the windows and observed the weather. “It’s clear now. I should leave now if I want to get the meds back before night.”

Sophia tutted. They just talked about this last night. “We’ll eat then go.”

“Fifi, I was serious. You need to stay here. The base needs you. Lara needs you and Manon here and Yoonchae needs help keeping her cool. I’ll take Megan—she’s got enough energy to get us there and back and then some.” Daniela’s words lacked real emotion. It was almost like she rehearsed the speech in her dreams.

“Megan doesn’t know how to use a weapon.” Sophia crossed her arms. That wasn’t her best point, and Daniela picked up on it.

“She makes bombs for fun. She can hook ‘em to her belt and that’s scary enough.”

Sophia worried the inside of her lip. She knew when she’d lost—after pulling rank on Yoonchae yesterday, she couldn’t stomach it again. Not on her Dani.

“Okay. You still need to eat.”

Daniela and Megan ate beside each other at the counter. Every couple bites Daniela would go over the plan, and each time Megan wouldn’t listen. Sophia bit back an “I told you so.”

Manon handed them the compass and map with the path etched over in red while Daniela tied back her similar colored bandana around her neck.

“Okay. Dani knows the path. The only little obstacle might be that the quickest way goes right through the marketplace. Think you guys can handle that?” Manon pointedly stared at Megan, who still wasn’t listening.

Sophia butted in, discontent still written all over her face. “A little girl walking with her hood up in the shadows is different than two women walking with a machete and a belt of bombs in the light of day.”

Daniela’s eyes flickered with something deeper other than her growing frustration. Sophia’s recall of the past was painfully unwarranted.

“You can’t treat it the same,” she continued. Something about the way these syllables were softer shut Daniela down. Sophia knew exactly how to do it.

“If anything, we’ll be safer. Yes, we might get more looks, but nobody’s going near us with Megan’s suicide accessories.”

Megan snickered and rocked back on two of the barstool’s legs.

Manon slid two water bottles across the counter and Daniela shoved them in the pouch of an old drawstring bag they pulled out for Megan. Daniela also added a backpack to her typical gear and had it stuffed with the map, compass, an extra shirt and rag, and the tiny shark ring she took on every dig tucked away in the very front pocket.

“Hold on,” a voice, thick and unfamiliar, rang from the top of the short staircase.

Yoonchae’s arm was looped around Lara’s waist and lower back. They looked like one wrong creak of the stair would end it.

Manon lost focus on what she was explaining, drifting subconsciously to the base of the staircase to take up Lara’s other side.

“I’m sure Sophia already chewed you out, but you still don’t have to go.” Lara’s voice was foreign—so was the cloudy film over her eyes. “I don’t need that medicine.”

Daniela stood up and waved a hand at her weak figure. “Your entire presence says otherwise. And what if somebody else needs it later?”

Lara scoffed; it came out strangled. “Relax, tiger. Since you’re so stubborn, all I’m going to say is to avoid that market at night. It doesn’t matter if the trip takes two days—it matters that you and Mei come back.”

Daniela let her words pierce skin. Just the crumpled hope Lara had left over forced the heavy emotions fighting in Daniela’s stomach to slow.

“We will.”

Manon cleared her throat, still tight to Lara’s left. “There’s enough supplies here for one day and night without a dig. If it takes you longer… Sophia and I will go out.”

Megan found a spot beside Daniela. “Got it, cap’n. Don’t sweat it—me and Dani are quick!”

Lara took a pace forward with the help of the other two girls. She stuffed her cowl over her nose and reached out for Daniela to take her in an embrace.

They both stiffened. Daniela used to love physical touch the same way Lara did, but that died the day her old life died.

“Be safe, yeah?” she rasped.

“It’s alright. We’ve been on two-days before.”

“You know it wasn’t the same, Dani. It gets worse every day.”

Lara pulled away and fell back into the grasp of Yoonchae while Manon took her turn hugging Daniela and Megan. Daniela sighed inwardly—Lara had set off the whole motion.

Then came Yoonchae, who Daniela told to be good for Sophia. She saw more of herself inside her every day, which gave her both a warm and icy feeling that she was doing everything right and everything wrong.

Megan also whispered something in her ear that Yoonchae’s composure almost broke over.

Last, Sophia. She and Megan swayed from side to side in a hug for minutes before they separated. Megan started to look a little nervous, nose wrinkled and thin eyebrows knitted together. The chains of old metal clinked together on her pants as she tapped her foot.

Daniela reached out first—almost imperceptibly. It wasn’t typical, but Daniela was willing to be the first to pause their fight for two days. She figured enough energy would already be spent on tolerating Megan anyway.

Sophia weaved her fingers through Daniela’s knotted hair. “Don’t be too stupid. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

As Megan and Daniela’s figures finally moved out of sight from the base, the remaining four girls turned to each other.

“Daniela is right. They have been on two-day missions before and everybody got home fine,” Sophia spoke softly. She was hyper aware of the weight that crushed on each girl’s chest.

Yoonchae and Manon rested Lara on the couch. She decided she wanted to be included in the action, though her contributions were limited at the moment.

“What were you talking about? The girl with the hood—the one in the shadows.” Yoonchae twirled around to face Sophia.

She was met with a startled expression. Yoonchae finished, “I heard you. On the stairs, with Lara.”

Manon’s breath came out broken. “Maybe we shouldn’t talk about this. Dani should be the one to tell you.”

Yoonchae spun on her heel, plopping down beside Lara’s feet on the couch. Daniela was right: her hair was twisted and curled at the ends like she was messing with it.

“Dani’s gone. She might—might die, or—“

Manon quickly kneeled beside Yoonchae’s knees, rubbing tiny circles over the inside.

“Shh, it’s okay. Dani’s strong and Megan’s crazy. They are quite the power pair.” Manon laughed at herself.

Sophia finally chimed in, the surge of guilt forcing her words out of her throat. “The story isn’t good, Yoonch. It’s scary, and sad, and you won’t see Dani the same way again.”

Yoonchae lifted her head, revealing the tears still welled at the corner of her eyes. She rubbed hard beneath them and sniffed.

“I want to know.”

Manon sighed heavily. “We’re serious. It’s really, really scary, Yoonchae. Scarier than that old horror movie Megan played you.”

Yoonchae hesitated, like she was briefly replaying that movie over again and considering her option. “Please.”

Sophia padded beside Manon, sitting on the floor to Yoonchae’s other side. She took one long inhale before beginning:

“Manon and I had already found each other. We used to be in rivaling groups—split over territory. We escaped and ran all the way here in hopes for a fresh start. It was hard, we had lots of bases before this one. Then we reached the wasteland. Manon set up a shack just outside the worst of the desert and I went on a dig every day until we had enough supplies to last us a week or so.”

The darker skinned girl picked up next.

“All we needed were weapons. There was a market just a mile or so from base, so we went early in the morning to bargain off some of our supplies. Back then, the market had just a couple stands and a ring marked out with bricks and barbed wire that hosted plays—which are like TV shows—games, auctions—those are like stores that are temporary and sell only one thing to whoever pays the most—and fights.

“That’s where we saw Dani the first time. There was a fight between a local girl and a professional. It was slotted right before our weapons auction, so Sophia and I lingered outside and watched. Dani was the local girl with the red bandana and hand tape. That professional had two inches over her and more than a couple pounds. Most of those fights were for a meal prize. Sophia and I only saw a little of this one. We were blocked by the brick and other people watching.

Dani, despite her disadvantages, beat that professional into a pulp. The only way to win was by knockout. It took her ten minutes, and she didn’t come out unharmed. She had these dark bruises and blood coming out of her nose and mouth. Lots of it.”

Sophia reached her free hand to take Manon’s hand, sensing the older girl’s composure falter. “I got it,” she whispered.

“Manon and I bought our first weapon after that fight. We didn’t follow Dani, but every weapons auction after that was followed by one of her fights. We stared to come just to watch her. It was awful, Yoonie. Each fight was more brutal than the last as she moved up the ranks. We learned her name, and we were determined to find out where she went after. Manon and I had enough supplies for three—nobody should have to fight just to see another meal.

“One night, after she had another victory, Manon and I followed her out into the wasteland. There was a tiny strip of tents sheltered by an old collapsed building. Dani lived under a sheet hooked up to a post. It didn’t cover her whole body—her feet stuck out if she didn’t curl up.

We sort of lingered near the strip. But she saw us. Dani’s sharp. She caught Manon when we came around the corner and it took both of us to hold her down. That was the first time we saw how bad it was. Her wrist was so thin I could jam two fingers in the gap between her wrist and my hand wrapped around it. Her nose was bent—broken. One of her ears had a nick in it. The little one on the top, you know it.

I offered her to run away. Come with us to our base—get free supplies. We could use a fighter and she could use as many guaranteed rations as she could get. Manon gave her the ring she always brings on digs. Dani didn’t want anything to do with us. She kicked Manon off and got me in the jaw. Yeah, it did hurt!”

Manon cleared her throat and let Sophia catch her breath.

“Every week we came to watch her fight. She would glare at us from the ring, flip us off, typical Dani behavior. Then, there was a big, championship-like fight. Against a grown man, not a girl like it normally was. I don’t know when the men fought, but it was probably at night.

“Anyway, this was really surprising and terrifying. Dani gets in the ring and pulls her bandana up, but this time there’s a stark fear in her eyes. She knew that she couldn’t take him. How could she?

“When the announcer started the fight, Dani circled him. She didn’t move first, but he did. He grabbed her right by the hair and pulled her in—swinging his arm and connecting his elbow with her jaw. Her ears must’ve been ringing when she hit the ground. I remember she held her head for a second before coming back to reality.

“Dani pulled away from the man, crawling in the dust until she could get up. She continued to circle, ducking and dashing to the other side of the ring when he got too close. The crowd started to get upset, pressing closer and forcing Dani closer to him. Forcing her to fight him. She could only manage a body shot here and there.

“He finally caught her again, hitting her with a hook twice before pushing her flat on her back. The air went out of her, I think, she kept wheezing. He didn’t stop—kicked her over and over again in the ribs. She couldn’t guard herself.”

Sophia cut in. Manon closed her eyes tight.

“Manon and I couldn’t get through the crowd. It was too many people too close to each other. We screamed her name, anything to get her to hold her arms up.

“The man picked her up by the collar of her shirt. We saw her eyes roll back a little. She was basically already knocked out. But no—she took a breath and spit a wad of blood right in his face. That was it for him. He hit her under her chin and up. She was out before her head hit the ground again.

“Manon and I finally got to the front as the crowd cheered and screamed like monsters. We scooped her up got her to base, miraculously. It was bad, really bad. And he walked away without more than a couple bruises.

“Dani had lost her fighting spirit. When she finally woke up, she begged us to leave her, let her die. Kill her. It was like the pain, hunger, and humiliation had caught up to her. She told us that she only fought for the meal prize, but when she moved up the ranks, she wasn’t allowed out. She was entertainment value: a money source for the ringleaders.

“When she had finally healed enough to break out of her delirious state, she was angry. Furious. She would go back to the market with her hood up and watch the fights. Another little girl took her place. It set her off the edge. Dani charged into one of the middle of her fights and didn’t stop hitting until Manon found her and dragged her out of the ring.

“That’s why we moved bases again. Too dangerous. Lara was staked out nearby, and then you and Megan…”

Yoonchae was crying. She had been since the start, carefully controlling her volume. Manon hushed her quietly and pulled her down onto the floor between them to hug her tightly.

“She was fighting for years before you?” Yoonchae choked.

“Dani’s been through a lot, Yoonie. That’s why she’s mad. She thinks she deserves more—she does, but she thinks it will come if she’s angry enough.” Sophia whispered into her hair.

“Sometimes, when she’s really mad, it’s why she hits things. Or people. It brings her back to something familiar, even if she hated the ring,” Manon added.

Yoonchae quieted for a second. She always needed silence when she was deep in thought. It took her a couple extra seconds to process the words she needed to say in English.

“Would she ever hit us?”

Sophia’s breath hitched. Her mind echoed with the syllabus in a way that made her want to scream.

“Not on purpose. She doesn’t want to hit us, she wants to make somebody else feel the pain she does. Physically. It’s the only way some people can communicate how they feel here”—she gestured to her chest—“and in their minds. You have to remember, when she’s having a really bad day, it’s not really Dani that’s there. It’s somebody else—the girl with her hood up in the shadows.”

Manon gently stroked her back. She noticed Lara twitch out of the corner of her eye. The Indian girl been awake the whole time. The story drove through her sick brain and stuck. Dani only opened up to her about it once, and now she understood why it was so hard. With so many knockouts, could she even remember half of it?

“I wish I could hug her now,” Yoonchae uttered. Manon chuckled and Sophia smiled despite herself.

“I’m sorry, Yoonch. She’ll be back soon enough.”

The three girls remained on the floor, a puddle of tears and feelings. But not for themselves—for little Dani, who probably thought that the rest of her life would be a string of fights.

Sophia’s Dani, who made it her mission to push Sophia to the breaking point just to prove that she was struggling. Who loved her in little things like waiting for Sophia to fall first and hooking their pinkies together when Sophia had these dark circles under her eyes. There were big things too, like laying down her own safety to protect Sophia’s dignity.

Manon’s Dani, who always lent Manon her hats, coats, and shirts without saying much. Who joked off with Manon even in her worst moods because she loved the way that their laughs sounded together. Who loved her Spanish lessons with Manon and beamed when Manon frequently announced herself as a fluent Latina.

Yoonchae’s Dani, who didn’t take the same tone when talking to her as everyone else. Softer, but always with the same respect. Who always took another breath when Yoonchae was watching. Who Yoonchae let read her journal because she wouldn’t ever mention it to the group.

Lara’s Dani, who made Lara feel grounded and secure. Who would listen in the quiet moments of digs when their most fatal insecurities rose to the surface. Who was always somehow caught in her and Manon’s antics—getting a real laugh out of her. Who would’ve walked around the earth twice by herself to get Lara the medicine she needed.

In that base, about two hours were spent in those same positions. They only moved once everybody had stopped crying.

Chapter Text

Megan lasted about four hours before she demanded a rest time. Her stamina wasn’t as built up as Lara’s, she argued, and the last time she’d gone on a dig was a year ago.

It wasn’t. She went on one last month.

“I had this idea for walkie talkies. I have that radio back at base—you know, the one that rattles when I use it—that drives Yoonchae crazy! It’s all set up to retrieve frequencies and now all I need is another one to send signals to. So, if you—“

Daniela took another sip of water. Right there, she figured it was safe to start zoning out. Megan always gets her point across in the first sentence, the rest is all ramble.

The sliver of shade they were holed up in for thirty minutes was starting to shrink. The market had come and went with no trouble. It was busy with the kinder crowds in the mornings. Right around noon and the first fight slot is when it started to get rowdy. Girls’ fights, weapons auction, some kind of play production, then men’s fights.

“—maybe we can pick something up on the way back. I bet one of those vendors has a walkie! It’s probably all busted up and—“

Daniela spread the map out on the ground, driving a smudge of dirt where they were sheltered. It was a good enough spot if they happened to stop here on the way back too.

There were only six miles until the drugstore. They’d passed a convenience store a couple miles ago, but it only had the over the counter stuff. It was a long shot that the site Megan and Daniela were heading for would have the prescription meds left in tact, but it would for a fact sell a wider variety of medicine and maybe even more medical equipment.

Daniela knew it was doubtful they found a container of ibuprofen.

Still, it was this, or watch Lara fight off the storm sickness without even trying to help. Daniela couldn’t live with it.

“—Yeah? Great! It’s decided.” Megan slumped back against the brick overhang.

Daniela hummed and rolled the map back up. “Right. Let’s get moving. No more breaks. If we stay at the same pace, it’ll only take us two more hours. Ahead of schedule.”

Megan groaned extremely loudly. Daniela rolled her eyes and stuffed the map back in its bag.

The sun was at its peak. Heat worked its way through the girls clothes and under their skin. It was brighter than usual outside, some of the smoke dissipating higher into the atmosphere.

Just a couple minutes in to the next section of their journey, Daniela notices Megan walking progressively more abnormally.

Eventually, she turns her head to find Megan completely favoring her right leg and hobbling along at a begrudgingly slow pace. Daniela ground her molars together.

“What? I’ve got blisters!” Megan shouted from a couple feet behind her.

Daniela might as well have had smoke coming out of her ears.

For some reason, though, she didn’t march back and shove Megan forward. She stopped and waited for her to catch up. Something about how Megan wasn’t announcing her pain to the whole world was concerning.

“Lemme see your foot,” Daniela demanded when they were shoulder to shoulder.

Megan huffed, carefully propping her left foot up on the other girl’s bent knee. Her hands worked the laces of her black boots and slowly it slid off. Beneath was a blood soaked sock from the ankle to the bottom of Megan’s heel.

“Jesus. Do you only walk with your left foot?”

Megan only hummed in response, staring down at her other boot while Daniela pulled off her sock. The sudden introduction of cold, polluted air made Megan wince.

Daniela unwrapped the tape from her wrists, dumped a small portion of her water into the wad, then wiped Megan’s blisters and wound the tape over top. Then came her sock and shoe.

“Now come on. We have time to walk a little slower.”

When Daniela said that, she didn’t think it would take them the same amount of time it took them to go twelve miles beforehand. 

The sky had faded into dark orange and crimson. The first shimmer of northern stars led them in the correct direction. By the time they arrived, the sky was full of twinkling flames.

Surprisingly underwhelming, the drugstore took on the appearance of any other they passed on the way here. This one had more roof and walls intact, but any kind of glass windows or doors were reduced to fine shards. Not even the framing held up.

Inside, however, was like another planet. The store was stocked—seriously—with all the supplies a group of six girls could desire. The sight made Daniela both overjoyed and tremendously uneasy. What was so special about this drugstore?

Megan, on the contrary, was hobbling around at mach speed to fill her bag with snacks well past their expiration dates, lukewarm drinking water, and an assortment of drugs and bandaids and tampons and anything on the first-aid shelves.

Daniela did looting of her own, a little more conservative. She retrieved the fever, coughing, and antiviral medicines from the closed cases in the pharmacy. Lastly, she crammed an ungodly amount of painkillers into a plastic bag.

Megan was playing with the cracked self-checkout kiosks in the front. Daniela undid her drawstring backpack and crammed the meds inside.

“You carry the meds, I’ll carry the rest of the supplies. I got one of those hand crank flashlights, batteries, and a water purifier. It’s pretty chunky, so I need space in my bag,” Daniela instructed.

Megan giggled as she pressed her palm against the scanner. It didn’t beep, or click, and Daniela couldn’t find out what could possibly be funny.

“Okay—let’s get out of here and find somewhere to camp for the night.”

“Why can’t we camp here?” Megan whined.

“Did you ever think about why this place is still stocked? It’s not like they still get deliveries.”

Daniela could see the wheels turning in Megan’s mind. She blew faded pink strands of hair out of her face. For someone so genius in making flash-bangs and who was literally just talking about setting up a walkie talkie frequency, she could be a little slow to the game.

“Oh. Oh. I wonder if there’s like a gang or something that controls—“

Daniela silenced her with a finger to her lips. Her right brow shot up and her head tilted up to be in Megan’s direct line of sight.

“Seriously?”

Megan shrugged, opened her mouth to respond, which triggered Daniela’s palm flying to cover it.

“Let’s get out of here. I checked the map during your little rest. There’s an old motel a mile from here. Can you limp that far?”

Megan nodded furiously, pushing away Daniela’s hand.

They tiptoed (kind of—Megan seemed to be doing the opposite) out the shattered entrance and to the left. A pit of worry grew in Daniela’s stomach. Megan’s off-putting joke earlier was a very real possibility. She knew first hand and second hand how serious gangs were willing to go to protect their turf. And then some. It wasn’t like there were shipments anymore.

Between Megan’s awkward shuffling and Daniela’s calculated steps, there was a whistle.

It didn’t sound like a bird. The way it echoed off old alleyways was uncanny.

“You know, I don’t think that’s a bird,” Megan whisper-yelled.

Daniela muttered a string of Spanish curses under her breath.

They paused. Daniela’s fingers curled around the hilt of her machete, drawing it out slowly to avoid the sharp noise. The silver glinted lightly against the starlight.

It whistled again. The not-bird.

Then there was patter of to the side. Daniela’s eyes snapped to it. Megan, finally understanding the gravity of their situation, took a firm grip on her smoke bombs.

Daniela silently berated herself. Sophia was right—she always was. It wasn’t safe at night. They had extremely underestimated what kind of gang territories would be out here.

The movement slowed. Daniela had this awful feeling it was because whatever was tracking them was moving into position.

Another whistle. This one was pitched an octave higher.

The abandoned scene around the pair of girls came to life. Three shadows darted from their left, two from head on, and three flanking them from the right.

“Run! Straight, straight!” Daniela hollered, taking off before her mind caught up with her.

Megan couldn’t run.

Heels digging into the gravel, Daniela twirled back around to cover Megan. The first wave from the left was only two arm’s length from her. Daniela’s machete collided with a heavy piece of metal—whether it was a sword or a gun was unclear.

One of the other attackers linked their arms under her armpits, forcing her machete out of her hands and exposing her front to the remaining shadows.

A punch to her gut. Another. Two more. Daniela cried out at the impact, jumping off her heels in an attempt to escape.

Megan barreled as fast as she could for Daniela’s machete. She ducked beneath the grasp of one of the rear shadows and brought the hilt down on the one restraining Daniela. Perks of being tall.

“Smoke and lightning!” Megan screamed, brandishing the machete with one hand and launching a silver ball with the other.

Daniela and Megan turned and covered their eyes. An explosion of thick grey gas and a flash as bright as the sun itself erupted from the silver. It gave enough leeway for Daniela to retrieve her weapon, slide an arm against Megan’s lower back, and head off in their original direction.

The smoke tickled their lungs in a torturous way. But it must have been even worse for the shadows who were most likely still seeing sunspots and choking on smoke.

Not all of them, though. A lean silhouette stepped out of the smoke like rising from the dead. Something was occupying both of its hands in a linear formation. Two foreign lines came together in a point.

Flying from that bow was a spiraling arrow. It cut across the sky in its own kind of lightening, striking a thick line down Daniela’s quad.

Everything tilted. Blackened. Daniela screamed in the agony that blazed from her upper leg down. The sudden buckle of her knees took down her and Megan both.

Megan panicked, doing her best to shush Daniela and sling more of her weight onto her back. Her drawstring bag was lost in the process, but there wasn’t any time to go back nor.

Daniela chomped so hard on her bandana her teeth pierced her lip through it. Megan similarly bit down on her face covering, adrenaline pausing the pain in her ankle while they tucked tail for the motel.

The shadows didn’t pursue after a couple hundred feet. Megan didn’t question it.

 

***

 

Daniela hardly made it inside a trashed motel room before she allowed herself to make sound again. The fire in her leg ceased to stop—it was life altering. At any second she thought she might puke (which she did). The corners of her sight were lost to the pain. Sounds were reduced to vibrations, including her own yells.

Megan gently leaned the curly haired girl against a ripped pillow. She removed the backpack from her shoulders unclipped her rig. Wasn’t there a—there, the multitool.

With terrified, shaky hands, Megan sliced a large rectangle around the rip in Daniela’s pants. The cut still oozed red sticky blood that also coated all of the surrounding area. 

“What do I do? Dani—Dani, I—what do I need to do?” she pleaded quietly.

Daniela’s eyes were half-closed, teeth gritted into a grimace. Her chest moved up and down urgently and with broken movements.

“Bleeding. Stop the bleeding?” Megan thought out loud.

Shedding her jacket, she pressed it to Daniela’s wound with as much carefulness she was able to. Daniela’s back arched at the touch, earning another groan that rang off the walls.

The blood wouldn’t stop gushing. Megan added her shirt, leaving her only in a sports bra.

“Please, Dani. I’m sorry.” Megan’s lungs refused to take in more air. The smell of iron was suffocating her. Tears streaming down her cheeks were the only cool relief.

She took Daniela’s arm that was still taped—recalling how the other girl had done it earlier, Megan transferred the tape to Daniela’s wound. There wasn’t enough to cover the whole length. So she added her shirt, continuing to press despite Daniela’s protests.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Megan murmured unevenly. To Daniela mostly, but a serious amount towards herself. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

Daniela and Megan reached a synchronized unsynchronized breathing. Megan didn’t dare wipe her tears in fear that the removal of pressure would kill Daniela.

“Mei… Megan, it’s okay,” Daniela choked. She used the last of her strength to push out the words. The entire night had spanned without a single syllable.

“No, no. I lost the bag, Dani.”

She wasn’t even sure if Daniela processed it, yet she still shook her head. “Don’t worry ab—the bag. Check mine.”

Megan slowly shifted the bag closer to her with her foot. She pressed harder with one hand on the wrapping and used her now-free one to search Daniela’s bag.

Two walkie talkies. Beat up and black.

Megan’s eyes widened. Daniela was genius. She could use those to send a message to her mothership radio.

Daniela whimpered—the way it was strained indicated that she was doing her best to suppress it.

“Dani? Dani, thank you.”

The only response Megan received was a tiny nod. Her eyes were screwed shut. Megan quietly hushed her again.

“Sleep—try to.” Megan took Daniela’s wrist between her fingers when she noticed her eyes open slightly in fear. “I have you.”

Megan watched Daniela. Her breathing slowed as she drifted into unconsciousness, and chances were it wasn’t because she wanted to.

That’s when Megan entirely collapsed. Sobs racked her body and tears dripped onto her stained hands. The ones still pressing into Daniela’s cut.

She couldn’t do this. The bag with remotely all of their most valuable supplies was gone. Stuck in the street with the shadows. Megan had one job and she screwed it up. Like always. Daniela made a mistake trusting her. If it was Sophia, they would’ve been home by now.

Megan wished she had her Walkman. She wished she could watch Yoonchae write before bed—the English and Korean letters dancing around on the page in a jumble everyone could make out but Megan.

But no. She was watching Daniela die. That’s what she did understand. That arrow cut a wound at least the width of her pinkie and it stretched from the top of her right quad down to above her knee. It wouldn’t stop bleeding. Wouldn’t stop even if she laid every article of clothing she had on top.

Megan cried harder, closing her eyes and feeling Daniela’s pulse thrum between her fingers. It wasn’t normal—it was thready and unpredictable.

She needed her Lara. She needed her Manon and her Sophia. She needed her Yoonchae.

So that’s what she would get.

Megan forced herself to stop crying, swallowing so hard it sent up a wave of nausea.

She released her hands from Daniela’s leg and fumbled quickly with her belt of bombs. She detached each one and slipped the brown leather under the base of Daniela’s leg.

“Dani. Dani—I’m sorry. This is going to really hurt, okay?”

Megan looped the end through the buckle and pulled as hard as she could. Secured it.

Daniela’s face contorted in pain and her world spun all over again. She let out a broken cry and fisted the bottom of her shirt.

“Okay. I need to hook these walkies up to the correct frequency and call for help. Yoonchae should be in there.” Megan sniffled, feeling her tears pricking at the back of her eyes. No. “Then I need to look for that bag. I’m no medic like Yoonie but I think it needs to be cleaned.”

Daniela wasn’t listening. Megan figured.

She slammed a pair of double-As into the case of the walkie and tuned it until she was pretty sure she was on the right channel. She pressed the button once, calling into the speaker.

“Megan to base? Megan to base. Yoonchae? Are you sleeping?”

Static. Not a good sign—she adjusted the tuning.

“Megan to base. Mayday! Mayday! Yoonchae? Are you awake?”

There wasn’t any static this time. Silence. For one minute, then two.

“Mayday! I repeat, this is an emergency! Yoonchae? Lara, Manon? Sophia?”

This time, a click was instant.

“Megan? Megan, this is base!” It was Yoonchae. The way her voice was unsteady with her phrasing and held her Korean twinge.

“Yes! Yoonchae! This is an emergency. Daniela’s down—we were attacked by a gang of phantoms!”

“Phantoms?”

“We couldn’t see them. Daniela was cut by an arrow. It’s bad! Really bad! We need you guys to come get us.”

There was a wave of quiet that threatened to send Megan over the edge. She started to choke on her breath again, nails digging into her palm.

“I have the other girls. Where are you?”

Megan stuttered. She lunged for Daniela’s backpack with the map and unfurled it onto the floor. The location names scrambled and unscrambled on the page. Megan desperately tried to focus on each letter, pointing with her finger to keep herself on track.

“I can’t—I can’t read any of it,” she breathed into the walkie.

“Slow down. It’s okay. One word at a time. Do you still have the pen? Try to copy down each letter on the back and read that.” That was Sophia. She could tell by the cadence.

Megan did as she was told. She popped open the cap to a red pen and pinpointed the figure of the motel they must be in a half mile to the left of the drugstore.

R. E. D. R. O. D? No, O. F. I. N. N.

Red Roof Inn.

“Red Roof Inn! We’re at the motel, not far from the drugstore.”

“Good job. Were you guys followed?”

Megan’s breath hitched. She creeped towards the window, drawing back a tattered curtain to check her surroundings. Nothing but dust.

She checked the other window. She could see the corner of the drugstore. Then, two figures, rounding it then disappearing away from her.

“Shi—I see them. They aren’t coming this way. It’s like that drugstore is their boundary.”

“Okay. We’re going to pack now. It’s going to take us half a day to get there. Do you think you can defend yourself?” Manon crackled over the speaker.

Megan swallowed again, taking up pacing back and forth across the floor. Her eyes never left the painful shape of Daniela.

“Yes. Just please hurry.”

“We will. Be safe.”

Chapter Text

Lara couldn’t make it twenty-four miles round trip. Everyone knew that. She knew that herself. Her health had taken a steep decline after a couple days of sickness and she was reduced to eat, sleep, vomit, sleep, repeat.

Sophia and Manon packed most of the remaining medical supplies the base kept stocked.

Yoonchae had pleaded to go instead of Manon, but Sophia shut her down without much of a struggle. Yoonchae didn’t know how to use any of their weapons efficiently and Sophia feared that whatever kind of sight they found Daniela in would scar her more than that story.

Manon drew out another map. Yoonchae managed to get on the radio with a very exhausted-sounding Megan to relay them more information.

The Red Roof in was half of a mile west of the drugstore. If the phantoms stopped chasing Megan and Daniela about a quarter mile from the inn, that must be their territory line. Or, the beginning of something worse.

Sophia had white-knuckled the counter. Her and Manon needed to make up some serious time. Daniela could get an infection without cleaning and stitching.

Lara and Yoonchae watched them go from the window. Continued to stare after they were long gone. They wouldn’t hear from them until they reached Red Roof.

After another one of Lara’s coughing fits, they relocated into Yoonchae’s room.

Now Lara was propped up on a pillow and Yoonchae’s bottom bunk. Her surroundings constantly came in and out of focus and tears found a home in her eyes. That’s what was making her feel like puking every three seconds.

“What if we had codenames?” Lara rasped. Anything to get Yoonchae to stop messing with Megan’s things.

She didn’t. Hummed in response.

“You’d be Casper—the little ghost guy. You’re cute and pale, like him.”

That got Yoonchae to turn around. She pointed a finger at Lara to stall her looking for the right words.

“No! I am not ‘cute and pale’.” Yoonchae huffed, crinkling her nose in the perfect impression of Daniela. “Manon would be—dog whi—the sickness where it gets aggressive—rapid?” Her voice grew less and less steady, sending a pink flush to her ears.

“Rabies?” Lara gasped. “Manon isn’t rabid!”

Yoonchae jabbed her finger closer. “Remember Ginger Megan!”

Ginger Megan was a very yellow little puppy Manon brought home from one of her digs. Said she missed her cat, and maybe a dog would fill the space in her heart. Megan had immediately spewed into a very fond memory of when she dyed her hair ginger before the blast.

Lara had an expert idea. She was a dog whisperer—she had a fuzzy little one before the blast and it was her best friend.

“Let’s name it Ginger Megan, in memory of Megan’s old hair,” Lara had announced.

She reached in for the puppy and lifted it up in her arms. Ginger Megan must not have liked that very much and snipped Lara on her bicep.

“Hey! Ginger Megan just bit me!” Manon had yelled, releasing the puppy.

That night, Ginger Megan slept with Manon and Lara. Daniela didn’t want anything to do with it (though her eyes said otherwise) and real Megan was slightly allergic.

Ginger Megan mysteriously broke out of the front door that night—like someone had left the door open.

Present-Lara protested, “Ginger Megan was evil. Probably had nuclear syndrome or something.”

Yoonchae didn’t look convinced, lips curving up in a smirk. “I knew you let her out. Always protecting Manon. She was sad!”

Lara gaped. “I did not!”

Yoonchae snorted and rolled her eyes. Then she went quiet, air shifting from tense to thoughtful in just a second. “Megan would be Tempo. Like a song tempo?”

Lara nodded encouragingly as Yoonchae recalled the word. “She never stops moving, either. Tempo is perfect. Sophia would be Birdie—remember when she ran right into that glass door?”

Yoonchae tilted her head. Her black hair came forward and blocked some of her face.

“Birds can’t see glass,” Lara continued, suddenly feeling very embarrassed.

When it clicked, Yoonchae burst out laughing and tucked back her hair. She was still giggling, if not even harder, when she spoke next. “You would be Dumbo. Because you cried when we saw that—uh—drive-in theater.”

Lara gasped, holding it for an extra second to suppress a cough. “That movie was really sad, Yoonchae! That poor elephant.”

The younger girl’s laughing didn’t cease, Lara’s reaction only fueling her. She suddenly announced that her stomach hurt and had to reside in Megan’s top bunk.

“I think that Dani would be Icarus. Do you know who that is?” Lara called up.

Yoonchae shook her head. Her face was lying flat against the pillow before her head suddenly shot up.

“I need my pen and notebook! I have to write it down!” Yoonchae huffed. She reached down for her journal and Lara met her halfway, tossing up a red pen next.

Even when Yoonchae said she was ready, Lara hesitated. For the second time she felt heat spread across her neck. Maybe it was best to tone down the rather brutal story and make it something more fun. She regretted recommending it for Daniela in the first place.

“Icarus and his friend really wanted to soar; to be free. So they built these magical wings out of feathers and wax and headed to the beach. Icarus’s friend told him not to fly too close to the sun, but he did anyway because he loved flying and he loved the sun, and his wings melted. He fell all the way down from the sky into the water and ended up making a big fool of himself.”

“Dani loves the sun. Sophia sounds a lot like Icarus’s friend,” Yoonchae said. Her observations were mostly to herself—thoughts that left her lips while she wrote.

“And every time she comes back in from ‘tanning’ she’s fast asleep as soon as she sits down,” Lara mused. Yoonchae giggled absentmindedly.

When the scribbles halted, a hand jutted out from the top bunk with the journal and pen. Lara helped guide it onto the nightstand.

“Do you think we should radio Meg—Tempo?” Yoonchae asked.

Lara hummed thoughtfully. “I think we should let them be. Megan might be sleeping.”

That was a lie. Obviously Megan wouldn’t be sleeping. When Manon had asked her if she could protect herself, Megan had basically vowed to stay awake until Daniela was healed.

“알겠어.” The word slipped out before Yoonchae realized. Lara noticed, however remained silent. She must be exhausted.

Yoonchae was never confident in speaking Korean around them—afraid of being ridiculed. Her accent was already bad enough.

Lara never understood where the fear came from. Manon spoke several languages. Accents slipped out—English wasn’t her first language, America wasn’t her birth country.

Daniela spoke Spanish and sometimes jumbled up certain words when switching too fast or going too long without speaking the other. Sophia was the same way. Whenever she got really worked up, each word was tinted with a Tagalog accent. (Specifically on the word “okay.”)

There wasn’t anything to be scared of. Lara knew that. Still, it was different for Yoonchae. She left Korea when she was still a kid and would never be able to go home.

Sure, the other girls wouldn’t either, but it felt so much bigger when you were eighteen. It lurked in her every move. Just the girl’s saying something caring enough or in the right cadence would set Yoonchae into a craving for home. Not Los Angeles. Korea.

Sophia noticed it most. She noticed all of the girl’s homesickness. Daniela’s small sessions of choreography in the safety of their room. Manon’s deep passion for strays kicked around after the blast in hopes she might find her Spoon despite being on another continent. Lara’s mentions of Rhea, her sister, in as many conversations as possible. Megan’s constant need to make a new invention to impress her mom. Yoonchae’s journal pages that were solely in Korean so she could capture exactly what she needed to say when she was thinking of home.

Manon had told Lara when she saw Sophia feel homesick. It was a one-off, but they made sure to surprise her by doing all the tasks on her nightly rounds and letting her have the whole sofa to herself when they debriefed before bed (the kids called it story time).

To which, Sophia simply dragged them all on the couch with her and claimed that being crammed in next to them was the best part.

They hadn’t had a debrief in a while. If all was well when Manon and Sophia reached Megan and Daniela, maybe they could have one via radio.

Lara waited in about two minutes of mournful silence before deciding that Yoonchae had fallen asleep in Megan’s bunk.

Now that she was, Lara reached up to trace the itchy, hot red lines that went up her neck. Another round of hacking on contact quickly made her abandon the idea of touching them again.

It wasn’t something Lara would say out loud, but she was scared.

The sickness itself felt like any other. Cold all the time, always coughing, migraine like a lobotomy.

It was the thoughts that would over take her, overwhelm her senses until she was unconscious. The red lines throbbed each time a wave began, suffocating her under their heat and presence.

They were disgusting.

Thoughts of harming one of the girls, of them harming her. This constant feeling of impending doom. It followed her into dreams and nightmares. There wasn’t any escape from it.

Each time it would start with the storm. Daniela kicking her off the backpack. Then her imagination went insane. There were clips from her memory and crazy, insane things her mind made up all in the same portion.

It always, always, ended with a shadow looming over her. Wings spread, head high. Not human, not bird, not real.

A phantom.