The Nameless Army

.::Eli::.

Seventy percent of communication is through body language. After living with Erica my entire life, I have taught  myself to read hers fluidly. It's the only way I can catch her lying.

I watched her on and off while she ate her meal (which she refused to accept until Peter Pan talked her into it) and read her like a book in the process. She claimed she was still upset by the damn cat situation, but she sure as hell wasn't acting like it.

This is basically how it played out: Erica secluded herself in a helpless little corner and drew pictures with a stick in the dirt while the rest of us indulged in the only real meal I'd seen in days. Michael noticed Erica, but it was Peter Pan that flew in to the rescue. 

"It's no use." I said, watching him waste his time making up a plate for her. "She's a stubborn little beast."

He stood over the pots of vegetables. "Which does she like more?"

"Carrots." 

He scooped some extra carrots on the plate and carried it to her, along with some mismatched silverware. I smiled to myself. She always hated carrots.

I peeked up every now and again when I realized Peter Pan never came back. He sat beside her, his arms resting on his knees, and listened to Erica talk about who knows what -- but -- did she just -- she just ate carrots!

"Unbelievable." I muttered to myself.

Michael glanced up at me, then peeked at the two in the corner. "What?"

"She hates carrots." I said.

Michael wrinkled his brow. "Then why is she eating them?"

I put my empty plate on the ground beside my feet. "How could she refuse?"

The kid thought really hard about it. "I don't like carrots, either. But when it's all you have to eat..."

I stared at him and decided to be blunt. "Where did you all come from?"

"Where?" He looked at me funny. "I've lived here my whole life."

I glanced around at the mossy brick walls again. "Really?"

He nodded, stacking my plate with his. "We all have."

I peeked back at Erica before following Michael to the washing basin. "All of you lived here? In this building?"

Michael nearly rolled his eyes. "Yeah, like the places that had several floors and a bunch of smaller homes inside...what were they called?"

"You mean apartment buildings?"

"Right, right. Apartment buildings." 

It made sense. The building didn't look like it was used in any of the floors higher than ground level. "Well what happened?"

"What do you mean?" Michael started watching some of the boys chase each other around the lot.

I watched them too, before they ran past Peter and Erica. "Where are all the adults?" I refrained from using the other word.

The kid flat out ignored me. "Hey Peter?"

Peter Pan perked up at his name like a dog. Erica's eyes met mine and she dropped them just as fast. So pathetic.

"Skip asked me three times today if he could come along and help set traps." Michael nodded at one of the scraggly boys playing tag, and he scurried over.

Peter looked the boy over. "You aren't afraid of the dark, are you Skip?"

Skip stuck out his chest and broadened his shoulders. "Nope."

Peter smirked. "Kid has to learn sooner or later."

Skip threw a celebratory fist in the air. "Yes! I'll get my new traps."

"Hurry up." Michael called after him. He began packing his own supplies.

"Why don't you take Eli with you?"

My neck jerked toward Erica's voice. Michael looked at me curiously. "You know how to set traps?"

"He's been catching things his whole life. He knows some cool tricks, don't you Eli?" She smiled at me, and it was sickening.

I shrugged. "I know a few."

"Take him with you." Peter agreed. "Just don't let him wreck anymore rabbit traps."

Michael nodded, tossing his bag over his shoulder. "Skip!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming!"

"Wait." Erica jumped to her feet with sudden concern. "You said the Militia makes runs through here?"

"Not this early." Michael explained. "The rain will hold them off even longer."

I peeked outside and frowned. I forgot about the damn rain.

"Are you sure?" Erica asked again.

Michael smiled at her. "I'm sure."

Peter stood up next to my sister. "Keep an eye on Skip, please. You remember what happened last time we--"

"I climbed about twelve feet up a tree and it took them half a day to find me." Skip said.

"Well done."

"Don't climb any trees tonight. It's damp and dark out there." Peter ordered. He started sounding more and more like our father. It unsettled me.

"Okay, okay. Come on!" Skip hurried off right into the rain.

Michael flicked the hood of his sweatshirt over his head. I did the same.

Erica tapped me on the shoulder. "Be careful, okay?"

I rolled my eyes at her. It was then that I realized I would be leaving her there, alone with Peter Pan and his battered flag.

I spied on him while he added more logs to the fire. I leaned close to Erica. "Do you still have that baseball bat?"

She looked past me, confused by my question. "Over there, next to my bag. Why?"

It was her innocence and her annoying ability to see good in people that worried me. "Just checking."