Elliot:
Seventy percent of communication is through body language. After living with Erica my entire life, I have taught myself to read hers fluidly. When she's particularly happy, she starts whistling. When she's uncomfortable, she wrings her fingers until they turn red. She blinks too many times when she lies. It's the only way I can catch her when she's not telling me the truth.
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.
She 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 almost two days. Michael noticed Erica sitting by herself, 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 never came back. He sat beside her, his arms resting on his knees, and listened to Erica talk about who knows what. She tucked her hair behind her ear, a shy habit that couldn't mean anything good. It was when she took that spoonful of carrots that she crossed the line.
"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 - well, ever since the blackout."
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 those places that had several floors where they took care of sick people?"
"You mean hospitals?"
"Right, right. It's an old hospital."
It made sense. There were a lot of open spaces and large rooms. The building didn't look like it was being 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 whistled 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, gathering them from a table of several different traps and hunting weapons. They all looked homemade, but I was still impressed.
"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 any more 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 thirty feet up a tree and it took them half a day to find me." Skip said.
I smirked, seeing some of myself in the boy. "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 tendency to see good in people that worried me. "Just checking."
The mud was thick where we were walking. I couldn't see how it would be a good area for setting traps. Michael moved swiftly through the mud like an earthworm, and Skip flicked his fingers over every branch and leaf that we brushed past. I trudged behind them both, occasionally sprayed with water droplets from Skip.
"You shouldn't do that." I had to shout a little over the rainfall. "Those plants could be poisonous."
"It's just a leaf." He ran his dirty fingers over the wrinkled bark of a tree.
Michael didn't seem to be concerned, so I let it go. He stopped walking to tug a coil of wire from his backpack. "Wait here." He disappeared behind the brush.
I sighed, realizing this amateur hunting trip was a waste of time. If I wanted to walk in the rain all night I would have dragged Erica with me. There was no use in spending the night with all of these Rebel orphans.
Skip was eyeing the tall tree standing before him. He cracked his knuckles and wiped his forehead. His body language could be read by anyone. "How fast do you think I can climb this?"
I knew it wasn't right, but I played along. "Faster than Michael can come back."
Skip grinned a toothless grin and practically ran up the trunk like a squirrel. I smiled, squinting up through the raindrops to watch the little sucker go.
Michael came back not three seconds later. "What are you doing?" He followed my eyes up the tree. "Where's Skip?" He asked through his teeth.
"The kid's a natural." I argued. Michael was about to argue back but his face became frozen. He grabbed my shoulder and pulled me to the ground with him, soaking my clothes in the squishy forest floor. "What the hell-"
"Shh! Someone's coming."
I heard the hooves squashing through the mud and the squeaky wheels of the cart. The branches in the trees above us groaned in protest to Skip's weight. Michael peeked through low branches to catch a glimpse of the two Militia soldiers bickering on the cart.
"This damn road looks exactly the same as it did yesterday. There's no reason we should have to be out here in the middle of a thunderstorm."
"Stop whining. It's bad enough they paired me with you, I don't need to hear you whine."
"Can't we both agree that the - hey, what the hell was that for?" The soldier slapped his hand over the back of his neck.
"I didn't do anything." The other soldier held up his hands innocently. This time, I heard something hit him square in the forehead. "What'd you just throw at me?"
The first soldier peered up in the treetops. Michael swallowed roughly as we both spotted Skip's foot dangling from the branches. "Something fell out of the trees." The soldier said.
"That sure as hell was not -"
"It was the wind, dammit! Now shut up before I really throw something at you."
Another minute passed and they were out of sight just as quickly as they came. I straightened myself out and heard Skip's nimble feet hit the ground.
Michael grabbed a fistful of Skip's shirt. "Are you trying to get us all killed?"
"Did you see what I did?" Skip seemed excited regardless of Michael's attitude. He whipped out a slingshot made from a couple of twigs and showed it to me. "There are plenty of acorns up there."
It took me a second to connect the dots. I looked at Michael, his mouth pressed into a line, and I laughed out loud. "Nice aim." I offered the kid a high-five.
Michael rubbed his eye and pushed past my shoulder. "Come on. We're done for tonight."
