The Girl in Red

Still, some remnant of hope and caution made her tug her shirt hem over the axe hanging off her belt so they couldn’t see it. She didn’t see how she’d possibly be able to overwhelm a man with a rifle with that little blade but if she kept it hidden then maybe, maybe, it would come in useful later.

What do you think you’re going to do, Red—leap up and battle this guy to the ground like you’re a movie superheroine with martial arts skills? More likely he would just break your wrist and take the axe away.

Still, no point in advertising its presence. And having the option to defend herself made her feel better.

He called to someone else—Red wasn’t really paying attention to what he was saying and anyhow the blood was filling her ears now and how could she have been so stupid as to not set one of them out to watch while the other went into the back room?

Because then you would have been separated, and Not Separating is the golden rule.

Why had she indulged Adam’s stupid idea about chest-exploding monsters? Why were they playing around when they came through that door instead of being careful?

She was always careful. She was always cautious. If they had been listening they would have heard the rumble of truck engines outside. It was pretty clear now from the amount of activity that she could see through the window that there was a long line of them, and that they were filled with soldiers—real soldiers this time, with proper uniforms and patches and name tags and all the accompanying gear (which included more guns than she ever wanted to see in her life).

Soon there were three more soldiers around them, each man holding his weapon trained on Red and Adam like they were the most dangerous criminals in America. Nobody spoke after the first guy (and they were all guys, Red noted, not a woman among them and that wasn’t a good sign) called his buddies over.

Red didn’t say anything because she was not volunteering any information to anybody no matter what the circumstances and she was pretty sure Adam wasn’t speaking because he didn’t want to get shot if he startled one of them.

Red and Adam remained in position with their hands on the backs of their heads. Part of her wondered how she was going to get back up again because kneeling like this on a hard floor was really not good for her left knee and she was worried that if she struggled or stumbled when rising that these men would interpret it as aggression and shoot her out of hand. It would be such a stupid waste to get shot for a dumb reason and then Adam would be all alone, too, and Lord knew Adam needed someone to look after him even if he was older than her.

Her brain ran around in circles like this, her inner monologue on babbling mode because there was nothing else for it to do.

The soldiers appeared to be waiting for someone. They didn’t speak to Red or Adam or to each other, just kept their weapons trained on their prisoners.

Prisoners, Red thought bitterly. If they were just going to get caught they probably should have driven as far as they could. Maybe their parents would still be alive and they could all be prisoners together.

No, Red, don’t you think like that. Don’t try to double back and say if only we’d done this or that. Choices were made and right or wrong they can’t be unmade.

Red could see the broken double doors of the store from her position on the floor. Two men entered. They both wore camouflage uniforms with caps instead of helmets and carried sidearms but no rifles.

Each man appeared to be over six feet tall, but one was several inches taller than the other. He was easily the biggest person Red had ever seen who wasn’t on a professional basketball team. His height was so distracting that she almost missed the little leather bag he carried in his right hand.

Oh no, she thought. There was nothing in that bag that she wanted. She knew with a blinding certainty that he would open that bag and out would come a needle or a bottle, a little something to make her sleep or make her pliant.