II - Admissions
The snow crunched. The twigs snapped. Breaths of cold air lingered around the mouths of the two survivors before fading away. Stomachs grumbled. Dry lips were licked.
Ronnie Anne looked around the snow, her eyes surveying over blank sheets of snow, while she carried her crossbow around. Lincoln looked around the low-hanging branches of the naked trees, holding his knife with his right hand. He looked left and right. Forward and backward.
"What's wrong, Lincoln? Looks like you've seen a ghost."
"Does it? I mean— I just… I thought I saw something here."
"If something spooked you, don't you think I would know about it?"
"I saw it earlier. It was like something moving around the woods."
"Was it an animal? A person?"
"I… I don't know."
Ronnie Anne knelt down and peered into the snowy ground. She smiled and tapped Lincoln's ankle.
"I think I know what you saw…" said Ronnie Anne. "Looks like tiny paws in the front and then long paws in the back. I don't think it takes a genius to figure out what animal these belong to. This reminds me— are you still a pussy when it comes to killing rabbits?"
"Oh my god… Lynn just can't keep her mouth shut."
Ronnie Anne stood up and followed the prints.
"Why would she have to?" she said. "This is something that people should know about. Is that why you always go on supply runs, but never hunt?"
"I'm not good at hunting."
"Well, you gotta get good now. We need to flank the rabbit. If I miss, then the rabbit might hop away. I need you to be on the other side if it does and catch it by surprise."
"Do I have to?" said Lincoln, his lips trembling.
"It's just a rabbit. It's gonna die out here anyway. Plus, you killed people before. Killing an animal for survival isn't any different. Now, shush. I think we're getting closer to the rabbit."
Lincoln gulped as he continued to follow the rabbit's prints. He felt a dull pain around his temples, prompting him to rub his fingers against it.
Lincoln kept walking ahead, rubbing his temples as he looked at Ronnie Anne lowering herself behind a pile of shrubs. He lowered himself as well. Lincoln then looked up, finding Ronnie Anne staring out into a field.
"I think I saw a white rabbit here," said Ronnie Anne.
Ronnie Anne stood up and turned around. She raised her palm and turned around again, looking out into the snowy field.
"Found the rabbit," said Ronnie Anne. "Stay here. I'm going to go on the other side. Remember, if I miss, catch the rabbit."
Lincoln nodded and kept himself hidden behind the shrub.
A minute passed. Ronnie Anne propped up from a bush on the other side of the snowy field. The rabbit was eating a small berry in the ground, unaware of its predator aiming her crossbow at it.
Ronnie Anne then pressed the trigger. The rabbit hopped at the last second, dodging the incoming bolt which struck a small pile of snow. It hopped around, before moving away from Ronnie Anne, heading towards Lincoln's direction. He kept himself covered by the shrubs as his eyes followed the rabbit. He gripped the handle of his knife and opened up his left hand. Suddenly, the rabbit jumped through the shrub and hopped towards Lincoln's body. He quickly jumped above it and grabbed the rabbit with his left hand. It squirmed around as Lincoln moved his knife towards it. However, he felt something holding his arm back. He turned around.
However, there was no one behind him. His right arm simply stood there, stiff and numb. He then turned towards the rabbit and felt it flailing its leg as his hands wrapped around its neck, choking the rabbit. He slowly loosed his grip, though it was loose enough for the rabbit to quickly squeeze its leg through his palm and out his hand before it freed itself. It then hopped away from Lincoln, making its way further into the woods.
"Damn it, Lincoln!" yelled Ronnie Anne. "You freakin' had the rabbit! Why'd you let it go? That was our food!"
Lincoln looked at her.
"Lincoln! You fuckin' idiot! I've never met a bigger pussy than you!"
"Shut up!" screamed Lincoln. "Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut… UP!"
Ronnie Anne dropped her crossbow and shoved Lincoln down to the ground, before she knelt down, grabbing his jacket collar.
"Go back to the fucking house if you can't kill a simple animal. You're pissing me off."
Ronnie Anne then shoved Lincoln back onto the ground, before she pressed her palms against the snowy ground, coughing. She wheezed as she wiped the mucus from her nose.
"Ugh, you just gave me a fuckin' headache," said Ronnie Anne.
She then stood up and grabbed her crossbow, following the new prints that the rabbit made. Lincoln sighed and shook his head before standing up. He groaned as his legs tightened itself, almost as if preparing for another cramp.
"Ronnie…"
"Don't. I'm mad at you."
"I'm sorry."
"Why are you following me? I thought I told you to go back to the house."
"I wasn't thinking clearly, alright? I'm hungry, I'm cranky, and I'm getting cramps."
"Lincoln… that happens to me once a month for like a week, alright? That rabbit could've been ours again."
"It won't happen again."
"Whatever. The next time I see it, I'll make sure not to miss."
Ronnie Anne then placed the front of the crossbow down on the ground, dragging the string upwards before placing a bolt on top of it. She then lifted her crossbow up, holding it like a rifle as she placed her fingers on the trigger guard.
Lincoln looked at his Bowie knife and saw a reflection of Weber in it. He quickly turned around, looking at the branches sticking out from the trees. He looked down and saw the footprints of Ronnie Anne and his own. He blinked rapidly and rubbed his temples again.
"Oh dear," gasped Ronnie Anne.
Lincoln turned around, facing forward again, and saw the grotesque sight in front of him. The carcass of a deer lay on the snow, its neck ripped open, its sides having scratch marks, and blood splatters stained on its leg. The deer's lifeless eyes stared ahead of itself, its tongue sticking out into the snow as a mysterious dark-red ooze seeped out of its jaw. Flies buzzed around the ooze, as hairy, tiny maggots crawled around its neck.
"Jeez," moaned Lincoln. "I feel bad for the deer. It's so… ugh."
"Yeah I know. Can't smell it though. So you know what that means."
Ronnie Anne placed the crossbow across her back and turned around, facing Lincoln.
"Good thing you're still here," she said. "Give me your knife."
"My knife?"
"Yes, your freakin' Bowie knife. Give it to me."
"Oh, no, no, no. No! Ron, that's nasty!"
"I'm starving!"
"So am I! But we can't eat that!"
"Why not? It's dead already. We could just cut out the non-bitten areas."
"We don't know what's gonna happen to us. That… could kill us."
Ronnie Anne growled and grabbed a pebble from the ground. She then tossed it at the deer, scaring some of the flies away.
"Damn it," she said. "You might be right. Let's just follow the damn rabbit."
The rabbit hopped around the woods, leaping over twigs, squeezing through logs, jumping across the snow. Lincoln and Ronnie Anne jogged across the woods, following the prints, as their energy quickly depleted. Both of them were panting as the cold air kept rubbing against their dry eyes, cracked skin, numb lips. Lincoln coughed as Ronnie Anne felt her fingers tingling with sharp pain once again.
"We're gonna freakin' die out here," she said. "Not even a day being alone and we're gonna die."
"Stop it, Ronnie. We're getting closer and closer to the rabbit."
"And then what? We still need water! I'm not gonna eat a rabbit raw and without a drink."
"Why would you need water to cook a rabbit? Oh wait…"
"That's right."
"You don't know how to make a campfire too?" gasped Lincoln. "Okay, that's not good."
Ronnie Anne sighed in defeat. She followed the rabbit's prints, though she walked a lot slower than before. Lincoln's pace was even faster in comparison. With each step, hope was dwindling away, hunger overtook their bodies, and their hearts were pounding against their chests.
"You're not… gonna eat me, right?" asked Lincoln.
"Well… if I get hungry enough…"
"Really?"
"No, dumbass. I'm not like… freakin'... Calvin."
"Are you okay?"
Ronnie Anne blinked slowly as she slouched her back, leaning forward with her arms down. Her breaths were slow and her eyes wandered around slowly. Her knees felt like collapsing. Her arms felt heavy like dumbbells. Her feet were biting her.
Suddenly, her eyes shot open.
"Rabbit!" she yelled.
The rabbit lifted its head and hopped away as Ronnie Anne and Lincoln chased after it. It then leaped down a hill, squeezing through all the twigs and sticks and logs hanging in the side of the hill. Ronnie Anne turned around and grabbed Lincoln's hand, slowly making her way down the hill. She twitched her eyes as she felt the pain of the sticks poking through her jeans and stabbing her ankles. Lincoln groaned as his shoes kept getting between the abundance of twigs and sticks in the hill.
Upon reaching the bottom of the hill, Ronnie Anne turned around and shushed Lincoln by placing her index finger on her lips before she crouched and approached a group of tall shrubs and trees. Lincoln crouched down as well and took careful steps as his footsteps stomped over the tiny pawprints.
Ronnie Anne moved around the shrubs and trees, finding yet another field, surrounded by extremely dense pine trees. But the one thing that her eyes immediately focused on was a small kid, no taller than Lana, holding a rabbit by its ears as blood seeped out its throat. The kid was wearing shorts over black leggings, two layers of hoodies, and white sneakers. His dirty blonde hair covered his entire back neck.
Lincoln looked at the kid, swallowing hard as the kid looked back at him and his friend with his brown eyes. He stared meekly at the two of them, not budging his slim, toned body- as toned as a little boy can be. The only thing that seemed to move was the blood dripping from his knife next to his sheath.
Ronnie Anne lowered her crossbow and raised her hands up. She chuckled nervously as she slowly walked towards the boy.
"Hello," she said. "That was ours. Can you give us like… half of it?"
The boy simply stared at Ronnie Anne, slowly backing away. Lincoln saw Simon Weber a couple meters in front of him, but after rubbing his eyes, it was only the boy holding the rabbit. Ronnie Anne kept on talking to the boy.
"On second thought, do you have water? You know? Water? Um… can you understand me?"
The boy tightened his grip on the knife as Ronnie Anne took more steps closer to him.
"Do you speak English? Spanish? Agua. Necesitamos agua. Are you in a group? Grupo?"
The boy backed away into the dense thickness of thin branches and thick trees. However, Ronnie Anne kept her sights on him. She sighed and raised her crossbow, pointing it at the boy.
"Speak, damn it!"
The boy flinched slightly, though he did not show fear in his eyes.
"Drop the frickin' rabbit! Entiendes? Dame el maldito conejo!"
"Ronnie!" gasped Lincoln. "He's a kid!"
"He's old enough to talk. Maybe not Spanish because he's as white as that rabbit but he should be able to speak something!"
The boy then placed two fingers between his lips and whistled as loudly as he could. Lincoln grabbed his M1911 pistol and looked around the woods, as Ronnie Anne stomped closer to the boy, who nervously hid behind a tree.
"What the hell was that?"
Ronnie Anne's eyes popped open as she heard the click of a hammer next to her right ear. She turned around and saw a pale-skinned boy taller than Lincoln with wavy hair flowing next to his freckles and down to his jaw aiming a gold-plated snub nose revolver at her. The boy wore a gold chain around his leather jacket and diamond-shaped earrings.
"Quit lookin' at me and drop that shit," said the tall boy, tilting his head towards the crossbow.
Lincoln looked at the tall boy and moved his arms upwards while gripping his pistol before an arrow flew across the dense forest and in front of him. It stuck to the bark of the tree next to him as Lincoln turned to his right, finding a dark-tan girl with a nose piercing and black straight hair tied in a ponytail. She wore high-waisted jeans, gloves made of wool, and a purple leather jacket. Next to the girl was a dark-skinned boy holding a mallet. He wore fingerless brown leather gloves along with an oil-stained coat and grimey jeans. He leaned forward while holding his knife, as if preparing to pounce Lincoln, his prey.
"Drop the 1911," said the boy with the mallet. "Or we take that girl's life."
Ronnie Anne heard the footsteps of a girl her size approaching her. She looked at the girl, noticing her light-tan skin, brown wavy hair, her almond-shaped hazel eyes, and her gold earrings. She was checking her nails through her black silk gloves before placing her hands back into her overcoat. The girl then took out a small drop point knife and placed it below Ronnie Anne's chin. She then slapped the crossbow down onto the ground.
"Were you gonna shoot our little Ira?" asked the girl.
Ronnie Anne looked down at the crossbow and nodded softly.
"We're starving," she replied. "I asked him nicely if that's what you wanted to know."
The boy with the gold chains knelt down and looked into the little boy's eyes. He placed his hands on his shoulder and raised his eyebrows.
"Are you okay? Did they hurt you?" he asked.
"I'm okay," the little boy whispered. "She just scared me."
The tall boy nodded. He stood up and looked at his friends, his stern face nodding.
"Lights out for 'em!" he yelled.
Ronnie Anne gasped as the hazel-eyed girl slammed her elbow across her head, striking her left temple and knocking her out. Her face landed on the snow, as a tiny cut appeared in her left temple.
"No!" yelled Lincoln, dropping his gun. "Okay, I dropped it! I dropped it! Don't kill-"
The last thing that Lincoln noticed was the dark-skinned boy throwing his fist towards his face. After a second, his face also fell on top of the snowy grass, his jaw showing a red mark. Then, his body- as well as Ronnie Anne's- were dragged away into the dense woods, leaving a large trail in the snow.
A small egg-shaped cloud hovered in the sky, slowly being pushed by the Earth's rotation. Lincoln blinked softly as his head continued to look upwards, hearing the sound of crackling wood and a bouncing basketball in the background. He raised his hands in an attempt to touch the cloud, though suddenly, he felt them pull back. He blinked quicker, as he snapped out of his dream-like trance. He sat himself upright against a black mesh fence and looked at his wrists, each tied in a unique knot. His puzzled expression then found itself being hawked at by a group of children- eleven of them- and a tall woman. Behind them was a lunch table sitting against the brick wall of a building and a campfire sitting next to the black mesh fence. Behind the lunch table and campfire was a slide and a swing set. He then turned to his right to see Ronnie Anne, still unconscious, with her wrists individually tied to the mesh fence.
"When do you think he's gonna say something?" asked the girl with the silk gloves.
He looked at the tall woman. Her choppy bob cut hair- covering her left ear- towered above the children. She wore a brown cargo jacket and jeans holding a snub-nosed revolver.
"Who are you?" asked Lincoln.
"I'm Madelaine Malone. You can call me Ms. Malone. What's your name?"
Lincoln looked around. He saw each and every child. One was bouncing a rubber ball against a brick wall. One was bouncing a basketball on the pavement. One was sharpening her arrows. One looked bored, looking at her silk gloves. One held his golden revolver. One was holding his blood-stained knife while staring meekly at him. One was unscrewing a doorknob, piece by piece. One was swirling a closed beaker around as the purple liquid sloshed around inside. One was wiping her glasses with her shirt. One was holding a clipboard, writing down something with a yellow pencil. One was standing in front of the tall woman, folding her arms, holding a bullet with her fingers.
"Don't be shy," said the girl with the silk gloves. "I bet you got a cute name."
"Why don't you children start first?" said Ms. Malone. "Tell him your age and where you're from. Don't forget to tell him what you like."
"Sure, I'll start first," said the girl with the silk gloves. "I'm Sonya. I held your friend at knifepoint back in the forest. She is your friend, right?"
Lincoln nodded.
"I'm thirteen. My parents were from Chile. But I was born in Miami and raised in D.C. and here in Bethesda, Maryland. Well, anyways- I like boys. Like- a lot."
Lincoln raised an eyebrow.
"I'm next," said another one of the children, placing her glasses back. "My name's Juliett. But ya' can call me Jewelee! It's my stage name."
Jewelee wore tap shoes with white socks, though her baggy jeans covered it. The girl wore a raggedy navy blue coat, long light-blue earrings, and red lipstick. She wore her hair to her left side, leaving her right side shaved.
"I'm twelve. My parents were from Pakistan. But I was born and raised in Philadelphia. I like acting. It's a beautiful art. And look around you. The whole world's my stage. Next!"
"My name's Wendell Hargrove," said the boy unscrewing the doorknob. "Just call me Hargrove though. We met back in the forest. I was the one holding the two knives. Heh, just in case you couldn't tell me apart from the others. Anyways, I was born and raised in D.C.. Certainly not Africa, despite what people may say, heh."
"What do you like?" said the girl folding her arms.
"Oh, my bad. I… umm… well, I like tinkering with things. Disassemble them. Repair them. Disassemble them again. I don't know- it's fun."
"Your age?"
"My bad. I'm twelve."
"Next!" said Ms. Malone.
"My name is Gertrude," said the girl holding the beaker. "Nice to meet you. You can call me Trudy. Or, that's what Troy calls me at least."
Lincoln looked at Gertrude's face and saw a red scar on her left chin. He then paid attention to her dark-brown eyes and her short light-brown hair. She wore a blue parka and two pairs of sweatpants.
"I am eleven years old. I was born in Sacramento, California. Then, I was raised in Richmond, Virginia. My parents may be of German descent… but I'm not too sure. I like chemistry. I like chemistry a lot."
"Okay," whispered Lincoln.
"Next!" said Mrs. Malone.
"I'm Desmond," said the boy with the golden revolver. "I knocked your girl out."
"That's not his girl," said Sonya. "He said that was his friend."
"He didn't say it. That's his girl."
"No, it isn't-"
"Hey, stop it!" hissed the girl with her folded arms. "Go, Desmond."
"Anyways. I'm thirteen. My parents and I were born and raised here- in Bethesda. I like Sonya. Just remember that."
Sonya rolled her eyes. Lincoln gulped as Desmond continued staring at him.
"Next!" said Ms. Malone.
"My name's Piers."
His black bangs dropped to his beady eyes. He kept tossing the bouncy ball against the brick wall, showing a smudge at a certain spot. He wore a black watch on his flicking right wrist. He wore a black bomber jacket and brown cargo pants, with throwing knives attached to them.
"I'm thirteen years old. I was born in Morgantown, West Virginia. I like throwing stuff."
Ms. Malone looked at him as he kept bouncing the ball. Piers looked at her, catching the ball once more.
"That's all I have to say."
"Okay. Next!"
"My name is Owen," said the boy bouncing the basketball. "I'm ten years old. My mom's from France, I think. My dad? Don't know. Don't care. I guess my mom birthed me in D.C. and I grew up in Baltimore, Maryland. And I suppose I like bouncing rubber balls. Sorta like Piers over there."
Piers glared at Owen while he kept on tossing the rubber ball against the wall before facing the wall again. Lincoln tried to look into Owen's eyes, but they seemed to look somewhere else. Owen wore a brown beanie— which covered his short curly hair— a cyan fleece jacket, gray sweatpants, white basketball shoes, and a tiny blue watch.
"Next!"
"I'm Fallyn," said the girl sharpening her arrow. "I'm eleven years old. My mother's from India and my father is from here. I was born and raised in Edison, New Jersey. I like hunting. I was in the forest with Hargrove, you know, when I shot an arrow near you. I missed on purpose, by the way."
"Well, that's nice to know," said Lincoln.
"Next!"
"Call me Troy," smiled the boy with the clipboard. "I was writing shit about you-"
"Language."
"Oh, sorry, Ms. Malone," he said before mouthing, "bitch."
Lincoln looked at Ms. Malone, who didn't seem to notice. He then looked down at Troy. He had light-brown hair, which curved upwards at the center. The rest of his hair was shaved down to the centimeter. He wore a red coat, which was opened up, revealing his gray hoodie underneath. He also wore skinny jeans, blue sneakers, and carried around a small neon green backpack.
"I was writing stuff about you. I've never seen anyone with white hair. Is that dyed or is that like some kinda condition? Are you like an albino?"
"Troy, shut up and introduce yourself," said the girl with the folded arms.
"Oh, sorry. That's my sister, Annie. You know how she gets. Oh, wait, you don't."
"Troy!"
"Sorry, sorry. I'm… uhh, eleven. I, uhh, I was born and raised here in Bethesda with Annie. My parents are from Greece, so I don't know if that makes me Greek or whatever. I was named after a Greek city, though-"
"Next," said Annie. "Sorry, Ms. Malone. He talked too much."
"It's alright. Go ahead, Annie."
"My name is Anna. But after my parents heard my brother call me Annie, that name seems to have stuck. So, here we are. I'm fourteen- the oldest out of everyone here. Like my brother said, my parents are from Greece- so that makes us Greek-American, Troy. And I like… playing video games. Too bad I can't play them anymore. Sucks."
Lincoln looked at Annie. Her light-brown hair resembled the choppy bob cut of Ms. Malone's hair. She wore red lipstick, a black choker, and black eyeliner. Her leather jacket and skinny jeans revealed her developed figure, more than any of the other girls. She was also the tallest of the children, even towering above Lincoln. As she unfolded her arm, she revealed her bruised knuckles, as well as the spear point knife she was holding.
Annie then looked down at the little boy with dirty blonde hair.
"It's okay. You can introduce yourself. He won't bite."
The little boy nodded.
"My name is Ira," he said, growing a smile afterwards. "I'm seven years old. My parents were born in Italy, but not me. I was born here in Bethesda. I like killing things."
Lincoln gasped softly. The image of Weber kept appearing in Ira's face. But after hearing the last sentence, it completely faded away.
"W-What?" whispered Lincoln.
"Now, why don't you introduce yourself?" asked Ms. Malone.
"I-I'm Lincoln. I'm thirteen years old. I… I'm from Royal Woods, Michigan. I l-like reading comic books and playing video games."
Annie smiled. Lincoln felt his breaths quiver.
"What are you going to do to us?"
"We're going to feed you guys. As soon as you and her untie your knots. You better hurry, I see some biters coming."
"Biters?"
Lincoln turned to his right, looking at two roamers approaching the black mesh fence. They were on the other side of the street, though they quickly ran across it, climbing up the hood of a car and crawling it across it. Then, they dropped down the sidewalk before lifting themselves up, quickly regaining their speed.
"Oh! Ronnie Anne! Wake up! Wake up!"
Ronnie Anne muttered as her eyes slowly blinked open. She lifted her head slowly, trying to see the blurry figures in front of her. Upon hearing the growling of two nearby roamers, she turned around and gasped, as she tried standing up. However, the rope pulled her back to the mesh fences, causing her to stumble and fall to her knees.
"What the?" she gasped. "What the hell is going on? Where am I? Who are you people! Lincoln, what's going on?"
"Untie the knots, now!"
Lincoln looked down at the ropes tied around his wrist. He pushed his back against the mesh fence to pull his arms more outwards, being able to touch them. He examined the knots for a second before untying it. He then released his left hand before untying his right hand. In five quick seconds, he completely released himself.
"How do you untie these?" yelled Ronnie Anne, pulling them away from the mesh fences.
"Back up. Don't tighten the rope. You see the little string in the bottom? Hold it and pull it then pull the big string on the top!"
Ronnie Anne backed up against the mesh fence before the two roamers slammed themselves against the fence. They growled as they fell to their knees, thrusting their jaws through the holes. Ronnie Anne screamed as she pulled herself away from the mesh fence, pulling the rope as hard as she can, tightening the knot. The knots strangled her wrists as she continued screaming.
"Ronnie!" yelled Lincoln as he reached for the knots.
However, Annie grabbed and held him back.
"She has to free herself," said Annie. "Otherwise, we're not feeding you guys."
"They're gonna bite her!"
"Sucks."
Ronnie Anne screamed as the roamers shoved their fingers through the mesh fence. Their teeth and nails were trying to grab onto the girl just as she raised her arms and turned around. The ropes were criss-crossed and shorter in length, forcing her wrists against the mesh fence. The two roamers were trying to bite her two wrists, before their long fingernails held onto her purple sweater. She screamed as they pulled her wrists closer to their mouth and flailed it around. She placed her shoes against the mesh fence and pulled outwards as she was no longer sitting on the floor. Her hands turned purple as the roamers grabbed the rope with their teeth, chomping through the left knot.
"No! Ronnie!" yelled Lincoln before his voice gave out.
Ronnie Anne continued to scream before the bitten part of the rope became thin enough and snapped, causing her to fall on her back against the pavement. She then crawled away from the mesh fence, pulling the rope through a hole.
"Oh my god! What the fuck, guys!"
She stood up, groaning in pain as her left hand turned more purple. She pulled the little string on the bottom before pulling the string on the top. Before she knew it, the knot untied and her hands were able to breathe.
"Who the fuck are you guys? Oh, I'm so gonna kill you, especially you!"
Desmond chuckled softly as Ronnie Anne pointed at him. Lincoln then placed his hands on Ronnie Anne's shoulders and shook her.
"Hey! Hey! Stop it! You're alive now. You're alive. They're gonna feed us."
"Feed us? Oh yeah, that's a way to treat a guest! Fuckers!"
"Yeah, come on, guys! What the heck was that?"
"That was your first test," said Ms. Malone, holding a bowl of soup and two spoons. "And you two just passed. Congratulations. You must be starving."
Ronnie Anne looked at the soup and then at Ms. Malone, who handed her a spoon. She grabbed the spoon and the bowl. She then walked over to the table and placed the bowl on top of it as Lincoln grabbed his spoon.
"Thanks," said Ronnie Anne, before taking a sip. "Wait a minute, aren't you Winona Ryder? I always thought you were shorter."
Ms. Malone laughed.
"Oh my! Umm, no! I get that a lot. I really do. My name's Madelaine Malone. You can call me Ms. Malone."
"Who's Winona Ryder?" asked Lincoln.
"Ever seen the Stranger Things trailer?"
Lincoln shook his head softly as Troy sat himself next to him, nodding.
"Alright, you're stupid, nevermind."
"Heh, I watched the trailer," said Troy. "Seemed kinda cool. Still pretty bummed out that the world ended before I could watch that shit."
"Troy…" growled Annie.
"Whoops. I must've forgotten the world is still PG."
Ronnie Anne then looked at him as he whispered something under his breath.
"Pretty gay."
"W-Who are you people?" asked Ronnie Anne.
Annie turned around and looked at Ms. Malone as she moved her hair away from her face and blinked softly.
"Do we have to?" she asked.
Ms. Malone nodded. Annie nodded softly before turning around, facing Ronnie Anne.
"I'll start. My name is Anna…"
A steel door creaked open as the sound of disorderly footsteps echoed across the hall next to a few closed doors before it slammed closed. Ahead in the hall were two blue doors. Lincoln and Ronnie Anne watched as Ms. Malone reached into her pockets and pulled out a set of keys, all circling around a circular keychain. She then stopped before the door and inserted her keys on the locks while the kids waited patiently and chattered with each other.
"Ms. M?" called Lincoln.
The chattering quickly died out. Lincoln felt the silence filling the hall.
"Ronnie Anne and I were with a group."
Ronnie Anne gave Lincoln a stern glare. He did not look at her though.
"Linc—" she whispered.
"We separated from them yesterday."
"Who's in this group?" asked Ms. Malone as she unlocked the door. "Family?"
"Yeah. It's my sisters, my—"
"How many people?"
"Uh, there's like… uh—"
"Two of them," said Ronnie Anne. "My older brother and his older sister. Bobby and Lori. They are both as tall as you. Lori wears this green military jacket, kinda like yours. I mean, just a bit like yours, not exactly like it. And Bobby wears this green fleece jacket."
"I once had an older brother," said Owen. "He's… he's not around anymore."
Lincoln looked into his eyes as he was ready to mouth something. However, he simply frowned. Ms. Malone opened the doors and walked down a stairwell. The children followed behind her.
"Where'd you guys separate?" asked Ms. Malone.
"D.C." said Lincoln.
"We'll head there first thing tomorrow. But first. You're going to do a few things for us."
Ms. Malone flicked on a switch and turned on the lights to a basement. The fluorescent lights revealed a cafeteria, where bunk beds, cabinets, and boxes of clothings all lined up next to each other. The beds with boxes of clothes next to them were lined up against the walls. The other beds that were spread out were empty and neatly made, as if no one used them before. There seemed to be about thirty bunk beds inside the cafeteria.
The children all walked inside the cafeteria, taking off some of their winter gear, such as their gloves, hats, and jackets. Ms. Malone looked at Lincoln and Ronnie Anne, tilting her heads in a certain direction before walking off.
"In the 1960s, at the height of the Cold War, there were fallout shelters built across the country. In schools, hospitals, government buildings, even in private homes. The threat of nuclear annihilation was so high that students practiced hiding here during drills. It was supposed to protect the children from the fallout of a nuclear blast. Tiny ionized balls of dust and ash filled with radiation. That was the threat then. But not anymore. Now, it's still a shelter for what's out there… but not from fallout."
Ms. Malone pointed at an empty bunk bed. Lincoln and Ronnie Anne walked over to it while Ms. Malone followed them.
"The past and the present are no different. Children were expected to survive somehow in a world destroyed by nuclear warfare. The government put money into building at schools. They knew schoolchildren would be the top priority in taking this space. They're not stupid. They know that children can easily adapt into any world they're placed in because whatever world you guys knew… it'll fade away with your old memories. Something new takes over. Humans… designed to survive a world of lawlessness. And I will never underestimate the power that children like you two have within."
"This isn't a world for children to live in," said Lincoln. "It's cruel. Too evil."
"I see two options. Shield them from the world… or make 'em adapt. However you choose, the inevitable will happen… death. Who do you think will face the inevitable first?"
Ronnie Anne poked the mattress in the bed. She then turned around.
"You chose just the right people," she said. "Me and Lincoln— we did a bunch of stuff to survive out there. We know what needs to be done."
"Good. I want to see what you two are capable of."
"What do you have in mind?" asked Lincoln.