The Girl in Red

That last bit sort of trickled out so that by the time she said “Park” it was almost swallowed up. This, somehow, was more surreal than anything that had happened to her since the Crisis began.

“And all of you have just one name, like Prince or Madonna. You may call me D.J., not Mr. Park. I see now that you are far too young to be the mother of those children. A sister, perhaps?” He went on without waiting for an answer. “You probably have several questions, and I’m assuming you were attempting to break my window because you were hungry.”

“Er. Yes,” Red said.

“Well, I have plenty of food inside and you are welcome to join me for lunch.”

Mr. Park—no, D.J., Red thought—looked at them expectantly.

“I’m assuming you don’t want to get caught when those young men return on the second circuit of their patrol,” D.J. said. He glanced at his watch. The brown leather band was cracked with age. It looked like the old-fashioned kind you had to wind every day. “You do have some time. They usually don’t circle back for a couple of hours.”

“The same men?” Red asked. “Why would they do that?”

“Oh, it’s not always the same men,” D.J. said. “But there are always three of them, and they come through here every couple of hours or so. None of them are especially attentive about checking the houses, but if you’re out in the open even they will notice you.”

Red felt Sam shift and the little girl’s gaze lock onto her face. If what D.J. said was true, then that meant the area wasn’t safe for them. Three men came through the town every couple of hours on a kind of patrol. That meant that they were affiliated with some group that had established this as part of their “territory.” Red wondered where their home base was.

“Their territory can’t be very big if the patrols are returning here every couple of hours,” Red murmured.

She’d said it more to herself, just thinking out loud, but D.J. answered her.

“I agree,” he said. “But the fact remains that they do return. And I should warn you that they are more diligent about examining the open houses at night. It seems they think that travelers might be squatting in them.”

“What do they do if they catch someone in one of the houses?” Red asked. She had a good idea of the answer, but it was best to know for certain.

D.J. looked from Sam and Riley back up to Red’s face and quirked an eyebrow, like he was asking if she really wanted him to say it in front of the children.

“Go ahead,” Red said. “It doesn’t help them to hide terrible things. They’ve already seen plenty.”

“They kill any men they find and take the women and children,” D.J. said.

Red felt Sam and Riley press harder into her sides.

“Red, let’s go inside, okay?” Riley said. His voice was muffled because most of his face was still hidden in her coat.

She hesitated, because it wasn’t in her nature to trust anyone and because for all she knew this man might be the leader of the patrolling gang.

“I have nothing to do with that group,” D.J. said, correctly interpreting her expression.

Damn, I thought my poker face was getting better.

“I assure you that I am just what I seem—an old man, living alone. I promise that if you come inside my home you will come to no harm from me.”

He seemed sincere. He sounded sincere. Still, she looked down at Sam and tapped the girl’s head with her elbow.

“What do you think?”

Sam thought about it for a moment. Even though Red and Sam had only known one another for a couple of days Red already could tell that Sam was like her—the type who considered every possible move before moving her chess piece. Sam was weighing the risks and rewards, just as Red did.

“I think we should go inside,” Sam said. “I don’t want to get caught by a patrol.”

D.J. smiled and held out a hand to indicate they should enter.

“After you,” he said.

Even though everyone was on board with the decision, it took a minute to get them shuffling in the right direction. Neither child would release their hold on Red’s coat, and she was still holding the axe in her hand.

“Sam, let go of me for a second, all right?” Red asked. “I want to put the axe away.”

Sam stepped back but she watched Red’s fingers sliding it into the loop at her waist. As soon as the axe was secure Sam grabbed Red’s hand. Red got her feet moving in the right direction and the kids came along, moving like a many-footed sea creature that drifts along the ocean floor.

D.J. seemed unconcerned by this, patiently waiting until they reached the door.

“You’ve got to let go of me or we’ll never get through,” Red said, but gently. Sam’s hand was damp inside her own.

Sam nodded and released her, but Riley shook his head.

“You have to let go or we’ve got to turn sideways and crab-walk in,” Red said.

“Crab-walk,” Riley said.

She thought it a little strange that Riley was acting so shy when he’d been more than willing to reveal his life story five minutes after he met Red—and he was the one who’d first agreed to go into the house. Maybe he was different around men.