Scorched Earth

There was not a day Garrett loved more than Saturdays. It wasn’t because the ladies in the mess hall gave out an extra pancake on Saturdays, or that he didn’t have patrol. One day a week, Garrett got to sleep in. He was relieved of morning duties each weekend for three hours, all of which he spent face down in his bunk, attempting to drown out the sounds arising from the camp. It was his one opportunity each week to catch up from the late night patrols and to recover from the physical abuse his body took.

Not this Saturday. No matter how hard he tried, Garrett couldn’t drown out the sounds of Kennedy cursing as he managed to trip over every single piece of furniture in the barracks. After the fourth loud thump, followed without fail by an expletive, Garrett cracked his eyes open. He could faintly see Kennedy limping away from one of the beds before squeezing his eyes shut. It didn’t work. No matter how much he groaned and pressed his face into his pillow, he could still see the imprint of the sun on the inside of his eyelids.

“Why the fuck are you awake, Kenny?”

Kennedy froze in place, holding the lamp he’d just knocked over in his hand, balancing on one foot.

“Uh well, you see…”

“I don’t even care. The real question is why the fuck are you here? You live with Em.” He paused, lifting his head up. His eyelashes stuck together as he reluctantly opened his eyes. “All the way across camp.” He placed emphasis on each word, clenching his back teeth together.

“Em kicked me out this morning because she promised Lucy she’d help with supplies for the hospital or something, and I wanted to know if you were up for a game.”

“It’s Saturday, Kennedy.”

“Yup, it sure is.” Kennedy grinned cheekily, attempting to deflect Garrett’s growing annoyance.

“Do you know what’s so great about Saturdays?” Garrett’s tone was deadly. He spoke quietly, as to not wake up any of the sleeping men in the barracks. Shooting a quick glance next to him, he made sure that they hadn’t woken Michael up. He sighed in relief, catching Kennedy’s guilty look as he turned back towards him.

“Erm, you get to see me?”

“I usually get left alone.”

“I was trying to be quiet, I swear!” Kennedy earnestly insisted, lowering his voice when Garrett glared at him, a head jerk towards Michael. “I saw you weren’t awake so I turned to leave and I knocked over the lamp.” He glanced down sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders. “Sorry, man.”

Garrett rolled his eyes, smashing his face back into his pillow. “Go away. I’m tryna sleep.” His voice was muffled, but Kennedy understood. With another quick apology, Garrett heard his fading footsteps. He winced as the screen door slammed behind him. Kennedy could never remember to carefully shut the door when he left. The men in the barracks took turns repairing the faulty door each time it came off its tracks or squeaked. No matter how hard he tried, Garrett could never get Kennedy to remember to shut it gently because he was so used to the door to his and Emily’s cabin.

He couldn’t find the energy to get out of bed. He lay diagonally across the small cot, his left leg draped over the covers, and one of his hands dangling off the side. Despite his best efforts to fall back asleep, Garrett knew it wasn’t going to happen. Once he’d opened his eyes, he’d lost all hope.

His body complained as he slowly pulled himself to his feet. He lifted his arm above his head, stretching out his muscles. His shirt rose up a few inches, and he winced as the rotating fan slapped cold air onto his stomach. He reached towards the small box doubling as a night stand and grabbed his toothbrush, toothpaste, and shampoo.

Garrett immediately shielded his eyes as he walked out of the barracks. The sun was already high, piercing light through his tired eyes. Shuffling along, he made his way over to the showers. Not many people were milling about; all of them off patrolling or working. Garrett was grateful for the privacy. It was hard finding time alone in a large community. There was always work that needed to be done.

He turned the shower on, reaching his hand out under the stream while it warmed up. Quickly shedding his clothes, he stepped in the shower, almost immediately dropping his shampoo.

“Fuck.” Glancing around, he was thankful that no one was there to witness his embarrassment. It was understood among the guys of the camp that they just ignored the awkwardness in the showers. They got in, did their business, and got out. No gossiping like the girls or lingering longer than necessary. Which was why Garrett was surprised to see someone waiting in the sink area for him.

Reggie was short and stocky, his head barely coming past Garrett’s shoulders. He was waiting, his back pressed up against the mirrors and his arms folded across his chest. Garrett raised his eyebrows, subconsciously tightening the knot on the towel around his waist.

He greeted the other man with a curt nod, silently hoping he’d go away. It was too early to deal with anyone, especially in the showers. He walked past Reggie to the sinks, splashing water on his face.

“Garrett.”

He turned, inwardly groaning. “Reg.”

“Do ya mind if I borrow your toothpaste? Liz had me sleepin’ on the couch last night and I didn’t have th’ chance to grab it from th’ bathroom.”

Glancing down at the toothpaste in his hand, Garrett grimaced. He hated sharing his toothpaste, more than anything in the world. Ever since Kennedy had switched his out for some nasty strawberry flavor, he’d been a bit wary about who he let use it. Reggie was a good guy, but he wasn’t exactly the cleanest guy in the camp. Granted, none of them were, but Reggie took the cake.

He slowly handed the tube over, watching carefully as Reggie’s grimy hands twisted the cap open. Glancing away, he caught site of himself in the mirror. He could faintly see the familiar scar running up his shoulder. He could remember the fight clearly.

They’d been unarmed when the zombies attacked. Garrett was the one to see them inching towards the house. They should have known by the smell, but everyone in the fallout shelter had been on edge for days. They were all imagining things that didn’t actually exist: the sound of dragging limbs, the moans of the virus tearing through an innocent, and the stench. They’d chalked it up to their tired minds and empty stomachs.

He could remember the screams the first girl let out as a zombie ripped and tore at her shoulder, its mouth a mixture of fresh and dried blood. Garrett tried not to linger on it, looking around frantically for a weapon of any kind, just something that could be used in self-defense. By the time he’d spotted the rusty pipe, the girl was dead. Her dark hair was matted with blood, and the zombie stood over her, blood dripping down from its jaw.

Garrett swung wildly, putting as much force as he could muster behind each blow. He was so focused on the zombie in front of him that he never noticed one coming up behind him. The force of its impact sent him flying into the wall, a metal nail tearing into his skin and his head slamming into the concrete.

The only thing Garrett could remember was waking up in Kennedy’s arms, moving quickly through a forest. Fire tore across his shoulder, and he tried weakly to raise his hand to touch his shoulder, but he didn’t have the strength. From the stories Kennedy told, he’d been knocked out. He always mocked him, laughing it off that he saved Garrett, but there was a certain seriousness to his eyes. Kennedy had gotten them away from the pack unscathed, but Garrett kept drifting in and out of consciousness, the blood loss in his arm too great.

He ran his fingers over the scar, staring at it in the mirror. The stiches had been sloppy and crooked, but it was a miracle they hadn’t gotten too infected. The pain was unbearable, as Kenny was no doctor.

Garrett could remember the day they found the camp. He couldn’t walk without passing out, and Kennedy couldn’t carry him and their backpacks much further. Someone on patrol had noticed them, and quickly shouted for help. They’d heard Kennedy’s shouts for help from across the woods. The only thing Garrett could remember was an older woman leaning over his shoulder, yelling directions over her shoulder as they rushed him to the hospital tent. Lucy had been looking over him ever since. She’d taken out the hasty stiches Kenny had put in, praising him on his quick thinking. But the damage was already done: he was left with a jagged scar cutting across his shoulder, a constant reminder of how they came to camp, and what they’d faced in order to get there.

He often wondered what happened to the rest of the refugees in the shelter. He knew some of them hadn’t made it. He kept waiting for the day when one of them would wander into camp, but it never came. Instead, he had the scar to remind him.

Something hit him on the shoulder, and Garrett glanced over to see Reggie’s back. He’d thrown the toothpaste back at him before walking out. Garrett grumbled, picking it up off the floor.

“Stupid people don’t know how to take care of shit. This stuff is hard to find. I can’t exactly go to Walmart and just buy new toothpaste.”

He complained under his breath all the way back to the barracks. Opening the door quietly, he noticed most of the beds were empty. He made his way over to his bed, sitting down on the edge of it. Garrett leaned over, pulling a box out from underneath his bed. Casting a quick glance around to make sure no one else was awake, he opened the flaps.

It was filled to the brim with several different types of Nutrigrain bars that Garrett had swiped from the kitchens in the early days of Emily and Kennedy’s relationship. He grabbed one, quickly putting the box back under his bed. The camp didn’t have food like that anymore. When the virus had first hit, the grocery stores had been ravaged, people stealing every single thing they could get their hands on.

He had to be careful to keep it hidden, or the men in his barracks would be all over them. It was one of the reasons Garrett liked having patrol first thing in the morning or the night shift. He could slip into the barracks and grab one without any of the guys noticing. It gave him a sense of privacy in a place where nothing was your own.

A groan came from the bed next to his, and Garrett turned slowly, the granola bar half hanging out of his mouth. Michael was blinking at him sleepily. Garrett couldn’t help but smile. Michael was so muscular and large that he barely fit on the small cot everyone was given.

“Wassat?” Michael narrowed his eyes as much as he could, trying to make out Garrett’s figure in the darkness of the barracks.

“S’nothing, Mike. Just go back to sleep.”

Michael nodded slowly before turning over on the cot. Garrett chuckled as the cot sagged in the middle, almost touching the floor. Grabbing a spare bar to put in his pocket, he headed out towards the main part of camp.

The bright sun burned his eyes, and he mourned the loss of his sunglasses. They’d broken a few weeks back when he and Kennedy were out on patrol. Garrett kept his head down, his eyes hurting. A shoulder bumped into his, blocking out the sun, and Garrett looked up, surprised. Simon walked alongside him, smiling broadly.

“Hey Gary.”

“Hey Simon. What’s up?”

He shrugged, taking a bite of the apple he held in his hands. “Not much. Most people are on patrol or whatnot, so it’s been pretty calm lately.”

Garrett scrunched his eyebrows together, concentrating on the ground as he walked forward. “What about that chick? She still getting on your case?”

“That Melanie girl? Nah. Apparently someone got ‘er a job over at the daycare or something, so she’s pretty much left me alone.”

Garrett glanced up. Her, put in charge of kids? “Er…are you sure we’re talking about the same girl? She uh, seemed a bit…”

Simon cut him off, chuckling. “Yeah, she’s a bit intense at first. But the job seems to suit her, and since it means I don’t gotta deal with her, it makes my job a helluva lot easier.”

Garrett nodded as the two reached the Armory. He glanced up, his eyes widening as he read the makeshift sign over the doorway.

“How did we get here? I swear, I was headed towards…” Garrett shook his head, confused. Simon laughed, pushing the door open.

“You followed me, I think. Should I be flattered or afraid that you’re stalking me?”

Garrett’s witty response was cut off by a loud booming voice from out of sight. Exchanging a glance with Simon, they rounded the corner.

Mitch was standing over one of the large containers the camp used for storage. Garrett crept forward for a better view. Typically, the boxes were kept far away from where the general public could get to them. Garrett could see a man he vaguely recognized from hanging around the armory kneeling by the container. He could barely make out the lock cutters in his hand, hovering over the lock and seal on the box.

“Open it.” Mitch’s voice was loud and commanding, and Garrett saw the man on the ground flinch before lifting the cutters.

“But sir, this is the last set.” His voice was hesitant, and Garrett could see him flinch.

“I said open it.” Mitch spat down at him, reaching for the cutters and pushing the man aside. “Give me those. I’ll just do it myself.”

“You can’t!” Before he could think, Garrett found himself moving around the corner, coming face to face with Mitch. His chest was heaving, and he was struggling to keep his temper in check. Tilting his head sideways, Garrett recognized the seal on the package.

“I don’t believe you’re in a position to tell me what I can and can’t do, Nickelsen. Back down.” Mitch kept his cool, reprimanding Garrett calmly.

“I can if it’s hurting the camp! You know we don’t have any more supplies than this, Mitch! What happens when the camp runs out? Then what, oh fearless leader?” Garrett spat out the words, too furious to care whether or not Mitch was his superior.

“We’ll be fine.”

“How can you even say that? It’s not going to be fine. Who are you going to let starve first? Yourself?”

Garrett raised his eyebrows at Mitch, throwing the ball in the other man’s court. Mitch shrank back, looking miffed. When he didn’t respond, Garrett took that as a sign to keep going.

“I didn’t think you would. So who will take the fall first? The men that protect this camp? Or the women and children? Surely we can spare them. Is that right?”

Mitch sputtered, waving his hands around wildly. “Be quiet, Nickelsen. You have no authority to speak here. You have no power.”

“What’ll we do then?” Garrett whipped around, fury evident in his eyes and his posture. His fists lay clenched at his sides, waiting at the ready. With a quick glance towards Simon, he brushed past Mitch, shoving him hard into the wall. “Think about that the next time you decide to do something so idiotic.”

Garrett slammed open the door, shoving his hands down into his pockets. He was mumbling to himself, trying to get as far away from Mitch and his stupidity as possible. He huffed to himself, muttering in low tones. “Fucking idiot always thinks he’s right. Hell, I could do his job better than him. Even Kenny could. Doesn’t he realize that we don’t have as much shit as we need? What an idiot.”

He heard footsteps behind him and he stopped in his tracks, glancing up. A small boy of about twelve was standing in front of him, bobbing nervously.

“Uhm…Mr. Nickelsen, sir?”

Garrett nodded, waiting for the boy to continue.

“Mrs. Brock sent me to get you. She needs your help.” He stumbled over his words, talking so quickly that Garrett had a hard time hearing him. The boy was wringing his hands, clearly anxious.

Garrett stood there confused for a second. Mrs. Brock? Who the hell was-oh. Emily. He rolled his eyes, internally smacking himself on the forehead. Addressing the boy, Garrett noticed he wouldn’t look him in the eyes. The boy just stared at the ground.

“Did she say what she wanted?”

“Uh, no.” He glanced up at Garrett, suddenly terrified. “No, sir. She didn’t. I’m sorry.”

“Okay. I guess I’ll just head over there. Thanks.”

The boy nodded once, and turned quickly on his heel to walk away. He’d gotten about three steps when Garrett called out to him.

“Hey, kid!”

The boy turned around, visibly trembling. “Yes, sir?”

“What’s your name?”

“Ralph.”

“Thanks, Ralph.” Garrett smiled at him, before heading towards Emily and Kennedy’s cabin.

It was simple, much like both of them. Neither Em nor Kenny could stand having clutter around.

Their cabin was on the far outskirts of the camp, away from the hustle and bustle of the hospital but close enough to the kitchens that Emily could get there when she was late. There weren’t any remarkable features about the cabin; it was almost identical to the others littered around the camp, except for one feature: the green door.

It never failed to make Garrett smile when he saw it. He remembered the day Kennedy had convinced him to distract the guards while he stole a small can of green paint. Emily had often talked about how her home when she was young had a bright green door, and how she always knew she was home when she’d walk up to it. Garrett remembered how Kennedy had managed to spill half of the paint on himself before finally getting the entire door painted. But most of all, he could remember Emily’s smile when she first saw it, and her tears as she kissed Kennedy full on the mouth.

It was this door that he walked up to then.

Garrett knocked three times, waiting patiently. After a few minutes, he knocked again to no response. He leaned over as far as the porch balcony would allow, trying to peer into one of the side windows. Glancing back at the door, he noticed it was open a crack. Pushing the door open, Garrett stepped inside.

“Emily? Kennedy?” He called out into the main part of the cabin. There were obvious signs that someone was there: lights were on, and there was a pot boiling on the stove. He reached over, turning the burner down before raising his voice again. “Emily?”

A large crash sounded from the back bedroom and Garrett raised his eyebrows. He heard faint cursing and giggles before the last door down the hallway flew open. Giggling and shushing whoever was inside, Emily quickly closed the door behind her, smiling broadly as she saw him.

“Garrett!”

“Uh, hey Em. Ralph found me? Said you needed my help or something?”

Emily smirked. “Yeah, Ralph. It was easy to get him to come find you. For god only knows what reason, he’s terrified of you. Thinks you’re this huge badass or something.”

Garrett grinned, standing up a little straighter. “I knew I liked that kid.”

Stifling a laugh, she turned to the counter where a box sat. “Could you do me a huge favor?”

Narrowing his eyes, Garrett stopped laughing. “Depends on the favor.”

“Could you take this over to the daycare for me?”

Garrett rolled his eyes, turning towards the door. “You called me all of the way over here for that?”

“Please, Garrett? I need to get this over to the daycare, but I’m swamped here. The hospital needs these bandages as soon as possible and I don’t have time to run over there.”

Garrett groaned, closing his eyes. He wasn’t even sure exactly which tent the daycare was. He thought he’d seen it plenty of times as he walked past it on his way to the mess hall, but he’d never actually been inside. It was one of those places that he avoided as much as possible. He never was a real hit with kids, so a tent full of them was the last thing on his mind. But Melanie worked there. Isn’t that what Simon had said?

Opening his eyes, he nodded slowly. “I guess I can do it. S’not like I’m doing much of anything else. But wait, what about Kenny? I thought he was supposed to be off-duty today too. Did Mitch put him on patrol or something?”

“Well, uh…he’s sort of busy right now.”

Garrett raised his eyebrows, the sheepish look on Emily’s face giving her away.

As if on cue, Kennedy wandered into the kitchen; his shirt half over his head as he haphazardly pulled it on. Seeing Garrett at the doorway, he froze. His gaze flicked back and forth between his wife and his best friend. Emily was leaning up against the sink, her arms folded across her chest and a smirk painted on her face. Garrett was at the door, a mixed look of shock and disgust flashing in his eyes.

“So when you said he was busy, you actually meant…” Garrett motioned towards Kennedy.

Garrett looked him over, taking in his disheveled appearance and mussed hair. He didn’t even want to know what Kennedy and Emily had been doing before he walked in. Narrowing his eyes, he looked back over at her. Her hair was messily forced into a bun, and he noticed her shirt was on inside out. He wrinkled his nose, trying to rid his mind of the image of the two of his friends together.

Emily giggled, her smirk widening as Kennedy crossed the room to give her a kiss. He started whistling some tune Garrett didn’t know. Taking Emily’s hand, he spun her around quickly before pulling her close to him. He moved back and forth on his feet, dancing with her in his arms. He lightly kissed her cheek, nuzzling her neck from behind. Still giggling, Emily shrugged her shoulders at Garrett, winking at him before turning to her husband.

“I told you, Gary…he was a little occupied."

“That is disgusting. Really, I didn’t need to know.” Holding his hand in front of his face, Garrett turned around and headed for the door, calling out behind him. “I can show myself out. No need to stop sucking face.”

Rolling his eyes, Garrett reached for the doorknob. He should have been used to them being all over each other. They’d been married for over a year, but Garrett still occasionally walked in on them. In a way, he was jealous. While the last thing he wanted was to be tied down, he longed for the comfort and support. He’d watch Kennedy and Emily together and he found himself resenting the way they moved fluidly around each other, or how she was always there to calm him down after a particularly rough day.

“Garrett!”

He turned, coming face to face with a breathless Emily. She held the box of band-aids and Neosporin in her hands. “You forgot this.”

“My bad. I guess I was a bit distracted with y’know,” he trailed off, gesturing towards the kitchen.

She blushed, holding the box out to him. “Sorry about that. It’s just…with everything that’s been going on, with the new people in from up North and all this talk about us running out of supplies, it’s got him a little worried.”

“It’s got us all worried, Em. He’ll be okay. He’s got you.” Taking the box from her, he gave her a stiff smile.

“Thanks, Gary.”

He lifted his hand in a wave as he began to walk off. He heard the door shut behind him and Emily’s faint giggle. He shook his head, not even wanting to know.

He trudged across the camp, lifting his head every so often to glare at the midday heat. His shoulders were already a little pink from patrol. The last thing he needed was another sunburn.

Weaving his way between the buildings, Garrett soon found himself outside of the camp’s nursery. Taking a deep breath and clutching the box under his arm, he reached out his left hand to open the door.

Garrett knew there was a reason he’d stayed as far away from the daycare as possible. The second he’d walked in the door, he felt two small arms wrap around his leg. He glanced down, but all he could see were two blonde pigtails. Moving his leg was impossible, because the small child had sat down, her arms clasped tightly around his leg.

“Er…hi?”

She slowly turned her head upwards, large brown eyes staring right through him. “Hi.”

“Can I have my leg back?”

“It’s not your leg.” Her voice was firm and she tightened her grip on his leg. She glanced back up at him, her stare challenging.

“It’s attached to me.”

“But it’s mine.” She was adamant and unyielding, even when Garrett gently tried to shake her off. After about ten minutes, he was growing desperate and irritated. He didn’t want to be there, and he definitely didn’t need a leech permanently attached to his leg. Especially a blonde, three year old leech.

“I need it, though.”

He didn’t see it coming, but the tears sprung up in her eyes. In an instant, his leg was released and the girl had run off into the crowd gathered around a small portable television. Garrett vaguely recognized it as one of the ones the patrolmen had brought back on one of the early raids.

The box under his arm, Garrett moved slowly around the back of the room, heading for the office down the hall. Before he could escape, a hand found its way into his. It was attached to a young boy, now headed in the opposite direction. Garrett felt himself being tugged along. Looking down at his captor, he felt a small hint of recognition, but he couldn’t place where he’d seen him before. The annoyance at not being able to figure it out soon became a small nagging in the back of his mind as the boy handed him a piece of paper and pointed to one of the chairs.

Garrett had always been skinny. It didn’t matter how much he ate, he never seemed to gain any muscle or fat. That didn’t matter. There was no way he was going to be able to fit into the tiny chair the boy was motioning to. It was made for a child, and a child he most certainly was not.

Holding his breath, he carefully lowered himself into the chair. In order to reach the table, he pulled the seat in. It was uncomfortable, to say the least. His knees were up in his face, and he kept scraping the front of them on the edges of the wooden table. Garrett ignored the pain as the boy handed him a blue crayon, gesturing for him to start coloring.

“You’re Garrett.”

Looking up from his horrible drawing of a blue tiger, Garrett nodded his head. “Who are you?”

“Will. I’m five. Wanna see my picture?”

Biting back a smile, Garrett put down the drawing he’d been working on. “Sure.”

Will grinned, holding up the piece of paper for Garrett to see. It was of two people, one small with short hair and a girl with long hair. He could make out a house in the background, with a long trail of flowers and a dog.

“Who is that?”

“It’s me an’ my sisty Mel and what my house used to look like.” His voice got quiet and his lip trembled. “Before the monsters came.”

Of course. He was the little boy that he’d seen with Melanie. The one she was reading to. Garrett couldn’t believe that he hadn’t recognized him. So she had a brother. No wonder she was trying so hard to get a gun. It made sense.

Will’s voice dragged him back from his thoughts. His voice was steady and clear, with the precision only a five year old could manage. “My sissy told me about the men like you. You scare the monsters away, right?”

Garrett nodded, keeping his voice even as he responded. “It’s my job to keep the monsters away. You don’t have to worry about them, okay? I’ll keep you safe.”

“That’s was Mel said. She said we’d be safe here. That once we made it here, everything would be okay.”

Garrett sat back in the too-small chair, stunned. Will’s words rang in his head, repeating over and over again. It shocked him how trusting the boy was. How much faith he put in his big sister, and in Garrett. No matter what, he was determined not to let Will down.

He felt a tug on his sleeve, and Garrett turned to look. A young boy motioned for Garrett to lean over and he complied. The boy cupped his hands around his mouth, whispering loudly in Garrett’s ear. “Is it true you’re a real life Zombie Hunter?”

A small smile on his face, Garrett nodded. He watched as the boy’s eyes widened and he immediately turned towards his neighbor and whispered it in his ear. Before he could say a word, the entire room of children was staring up at him as if he were a god. None of them could have been more than four, but Garrett still blushed deeply. He awkwardly backed up, fumbling over his words. He tried to explain that it wasn’t anything to be proud of, that anyone living there was a Zombie Hunter in some form, but he couldn’t find the words.

He’d almost backed his way up to the door before a girl with short red hair stood with her arms crossed stepped behind him, blocking his way.

For a second time, he crouched down so he could hear the quiet whispers.

Hearing her request, he stared wide-eyed at the little girl, the blue crayon still trapped between his fingers. “You want me to do what?”

“Play dress up with me. Come on, Mister! I wanna play princesses but Carla can’t play ‘cause her momma made ‘er stay home and you’re just sitting there and we need a Fairy Princess. We already have Sugarplum Princess and Princess Sparkle and I’m Moon Princess but we can’t play without a Fairy Princess.”

Garrett blinked several times, staring down dumbfounded at the girl as she looked impatiently back up at him. He wasn’t even sure how she could still breathe. He’d never met anyone who could talk that fast, let alone a young girl who could.

“So are you playing or not?”

“Uh..well, I…”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you! You’ll make an awesome Fairy Princess. I dunno if the wings will fit you, but I’ve got a tiara you can wear and Tania’s got this glitter her mom got her.”

“Wait, glitter? A what princess?” Garrett sputtered as she took the crayon from his hand, throwing it down on the table.

“Come on, Mister!” She grabbed his hand, pulling him roughly out of the small chair, leading him away from the miniature table. Garrett glanced frantically around for Melanie or any other adult, but they were nowhere in sight. He tripped over his feet, following the girl. For being about four years old, she had a surprisingly strong grip.

He found himself in a room off of the main lobby when the girl finally let go of his wrist and gave him an opportunity to look around. It was pink. He blinked a few times, but it didn’t go away. It was a girl’s dream room. At least, Garrett guessed as much. He didn’t have much experience when it came to girl’s rooms, especially since all of the guys lived in the barracks and the girls liked their privacy.

She was sitting down at a small, pink table, cradling a cracked porcelain doll in her arms.

“I’m Sam. And this is Gillian. You’ve gotta be extra careful with her. She’s not used to being held by a boy.”

Sam scrunched up her nose, but held out the doll to Garrett. He paused, not quite sure what to do. She sighed impatiently, shoving the doll into his outstretched hands, showing him how to hold her properly.

“You’ve gotta hold her head here, Mr. Man. Otherwise she’ll break. And that’d hurt her feelings.”

He looked at her incredulously, but she’d already turned her attention elsewhere. “Feelings, my ass. It’s a fucking doll.” He muttered under his breath, making sure that Sam couldn’t hear him.

“Make sure to rock her back and forth.”

He glared at the back of the small girl’s head. “I can’t believe I’m rocking a doll. I’m gonna kill Emily.”

“Now. It’s tea time. You may place Gillian in her spot and then take the seat to her left.”

“Tea time?” Garrett looked uneasy, glancing warily over at the pink table, piled high with fake, plastic food.

“Miss Melanie made cucumber sandwiches. They’re so good! Gillian likes them, don’t you?” Sam addressed the doll, chattering away.

She’d just handed Garrett what looked like something a cat spit up when she suddenly froze, her eyes growing wide. The plate dropped from her fingers, and Garrett managed to grab it right before it hit the floor.

“I almost forgot! You aren’t dressed. You can’t go to Tea Time without being dressed, Mister! It’s just not right!”

Garrett felt the plate being yanked out of his grasp, and once again, she claimed his wrist as she dragged him over to a large, and very pink, dresser. She pulled open one of the drawers, throwing clothes and material all over the room. Garrett counted the seconds until she was done, thinking of ways to get out of there. He glanced guiltily at the door. The package Emily had sent with him was still out in the main room. By now, it had probably been covered in crayon decorations. He wouldn’t put it past Will to be leading the charge.

The door he’d been staring at suddenly burst open, giving way to three young girls, all pushing each other and donning some sort of fairy paraphernalia.

“How come he gets to be Fairy Princess? I wanted to be her! It’s not fair!” A small girl of not more than three was stomping her foot and waving a glittery, pink wand around. Garrett looked away uneasily, scratching at the wings on his back. They were meant for a child, not a fully grown man. The elastic straps cut into his shoulders, but the eager look on Sam’s face had made them impossible to turn down, even if the tiny purple wings threatened every bit of manliness he possessed. He didn’t have much choice in the matter. While he’d been distracted by the door, she’d forced them onto his back.

Sam was quick to answer, centering her own wings and picking up a plastic wand from the floor. “He’s got the looks for it, Sarah. Duh. Fairy Princesses need high cheekbones.”

“Well, I’m the Sugarplum Princess. I’m the bestest.” Tania walked past Sarah, a fuzzy purple boa around her shoulders and her feet jammed into too-big glittery plastic heels.

“Are not! The Sparkle Princess has the most sparkles! That means I’m the best!” She stuck her tongue out at the other two, her lip trembling.

“So? My tiara is bigger!” Tania shot back, her small fists clenched at her sides. Sarah glared back, tears beginning to spill. She sniffled, holding the wand tightly to her chest.

Garrett glanced back and forth between the fighting girls and stepped back. Peering around the corner, he hoped for a glimpse of Melanie, or just someone to tell him what to do. He could deal with flesh-eating zombies, but he’d never been trained to deal with crying girls. He bent over to Sarah, putting his arm awkwardly around her shoulders. “Don’t cry. It’s okay. Shh. Please don’t cry.” He mumbled softly, patting the small girl on the back.

Garrett looked around, but the only pair of eyes staring back at him was a small girl with blonde hair. She hadn’t said a word while Sarah and Tania were there. She just stood there silently, a small blue wand in her hands. She wasn’t wearing any elaborate costume or too much glitter. She looked happier with the piece of plastic.

He was sure she couldn’t understand his silent pleas to rescue him and simultaneously make both girls stop crying.

Shuffling Sarah so that she was fully in his arms, Garrett carefully stood and walked over to the girl. He stumbled as Sarah gripped his neck, holding on for dear life. He was used to carrying a heavy shotgun, but shotguns don’t wiggle and move. Wrapping his left arm tightly around her, Garrett let out a sigh of relief as she loosened her grip around his neck. Garrett walked over to the girl in the corner, noticing hoe her guarded eyes had watched him as he crossed the room.

“What’s your name?”

For a moment, he wondered whether she would even respond. He’d heard that a few of the children had arrived to the camp as mutes. The doctors claimed it to be a side effect of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Garrett had seen it time and time again. It came in all different forms, but with similar roots. They’d all seen horrors that gave them relentless nightmares for months and months on end. He could occasionally hear a full-grown man in his barrack burst into tears during the night, screaming out a loved one’s name—someone who could never respond.

Garrett shifted nervously as the child’s calculating stare measured every inch of him.

“My name’s Kt.”

He shouldn’t have been so surprised or relieved to hear her speak.

“Hi, Kt. I’m Garrett. Could you tell me where one of the daycare instructors is?”
He smiled politely down at the small girl, who just blinked right back at him.

“Well, Miss Melanie is right there.” She said, pointing into the distance behind Garrett.

He froze, standing motionless for a few seconds before turning around. She was standing at the door, arms folded across her chest and a smirk present on her lips.

“Uh...how long have you been-er,” Garrett blushed, fumbling over his words. He scowled down at the floor, inwardly cursing himself for his inability to pull himself together. She was just a girl. A pretty girl, he allowed silently, but one with an awful temper. Why are you even attracted to her? He scolded himself, ignoring the pulling on his sleeve and the tears soaking into his shirt.She’s just like any other damn girl in this place: not worth it.

“Garrett?”

He heard his name, but he was too focused on not being seen to acknowledge it. He’d spent too much time with five year olds. If he stared at one spot long enough, maybe he could disappear.

“Why are you just staring at me? I asked you what was wrong with Sarah. Y’know, the girl sobbing into your shoulder?” Melanie stared at him as if he was a moron.

“Uh, right. She and Tania were..uhm, talking…and she just started crying. I, uh, didn’t know exactly what to do.”

Melanie rolled her eyes before reaching her arms out to take Sarah from him. She winced as Sarah instinctively clutched at her shoulders, clambering to settle into her arms. Melanie struggled, almost dropping her. She shifted Sarah’s weight until the girl sat on her hip, her small arms wound tightly around Melanie’s neck.

Garrett’s eyes watched as Sarah instantly settled down, burying into Melanie’s arm. His eyes traveled downward, resting on where Sarah’s leg had accidentally moved Melanie’s shirt upward. He couldn’t help but notice, and he blushed deeply when she caught him staring.

He stood there awkwardly, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck. “Sorry. I’ve never been that good with kids. I’ve just got my older brother, Trey…and well…” he trailed off as Melanie raised her eyebrows at him.

“Nice wings, stud. Purple is definitely your color.”

He turned scarlet, immediately reaching behind him to pull the wings off. His fingers got twisted around the straps as he fumbled with them. He felt gentle fingers join his and soon the wings were off, resting in his hands. Mumbling a small thanks to Melanie, he shoved them back at her.

“Here. I, uh…have to go. There’s uhm, a package for you. Emily sent it over from the hospital. I think it’s got band-aids or bandages or something in it. I’m not sure. It’s probably in the main room, still. Unless Will or someone got their hands on it or something. And if that happened, then I don’t really know where it is-”

“Garrett.” She reached out, touching his arm. He stopped talking immediately, clamping his mouth shut.

“I have to go.” He pulled out of her grasp and rushed for the door. Once outside, he leaned up against the building. How could he be so stupid in front of her? With a glance back inside, he pushed off of the building and headed across camp.