Apocalypsis: Book 2 (Warpaint) (20 page)

He kissed the top of my head.  “Dat’s a good compliment from you … da fighting part.  Do you think your dad would like me?  Back before when he was alife?”

“Yeah,” I said, turning and squeezing him to me tightly, trying to keep from crying, “my dad would have loved you a lot.”

“Well dat’s good.  Because I know you really respect him and so if he can luff me den so can you someday.”

I smiled.  His logic made sense.  “I just need more time, I think.  To know how I really feel and stuff.”  I looked up at him.  “I hope that doesn’t make you mad.  Or hurt your feelings.”

He frowned at me.  “Who me?  Dis is Bodo you are speaking to here.  I don’t run from da challenches.  Dat’s what I like about you, Bryn.  You are a ferry difficult woman to know and to convince.  I will eventually wear you down, dough.  Dat’s a fact for me.  You will luff me before my life is over.  I will be sure of dat.”

I laughed.  He was so goofy and serious at the same time, it was impossible not to smile.  “Okay, whatever you say, Mr. Bryn.”

He squeezed me tighter.  “Dat’s right.  I am Mr. Bryn.  And now I say dat you haff to giff me anudder kiss.  Right now.  Don’t make me wait.”

I reached up onto tiptoes to kiss him and drown a little more in the heat that he so easily brought up into my body, setting me on fire with need.

I couldn’t ever imagine getting enough of him, and that made me both excited and scared at the same time.  It seemed like only a dangerous thing in this world, to be so weak and dependent on another person.

***

I woke again the next morning in Bodo’s arms, and this time I also had to contend with his heavy leg that had wrapped itself over me, pinning me down and making me sweat.

Jesus
,
when winter comes I won’t even need a blanket
.  I pushed him off with more than a little effort, bumping into and waking Peter in the process.  Bodo kept up his gentle snoring after only a few-second pause.

“Ready for the big day?” Peter asked, yawning and scrubbing his face.

“Yeah.  As ready as I’ll ever be,” I said, standing and stretching.  I was a little sore from yesterday’s activities but probably a lot less sore than I was going to be over the next few days.  “Come on, let’s go.  Maybe I can get some stretching and yoga in before everyone gets there.”

“Yoga?  I didn’t know you did that stuff.”

We walked towards the outhouse together.

“Yeah, sometimes.  It’s good for flexibility.  I just use it as a way to help me with the krav maga.”

“Well, whatever you’re doing, it seems be working.”

I changed the subject.  “So what have you been up to, other than organizing my life?”  I hated that whenever we were together, all we seemed to do was talk about me.  Peter probably thought I had a head bigger than our hut.

“Oh, I’ve been learning the art of bread-making.  It’s pretty cool, actually.  All my work in chemistry class was apparently
not
wasted.”  He seemed surprised.

“Really?”

“Yeah.  And biology class, too.  Making bread includes all kinds of things about wild yeasts and sugars and the build-up of gases as everything interacts.  They really know their stuff here.”

“How did they figure it all out?  Do they have books like us?”

“Yeah.  But mostly their families prepared them before they died.  There was this indian village thing out here somewhere, where they did all kinds of indian crafts and stuff for tourists; but once everyone knew they were going to die, I guess the parents all talked to the old-timers here, and on other reservations around the country, and put together a real indian village for their kids.  One that totally functions without modern products.”

I shook my head in amazement.  It sounded as if a lot of their parents were like my dad, only even smarter maybe.  “That’s so cool.  We are so frigging lucky we found them, you know?”

“Yeah.  Every day I think that more and more.  Today when you do your final cuts, I’m going to be working with the Miccosukee in the weaving hut.  Did you know they make their own cloth here?  And thread and everything?  It’s crazy.”

“I guess I didn’t know that.  I just assumed they had cloth from before.  Like stuff their parents had bought at the store.”

“They do have some of that, but they are making new stuff, too.  And they have sewing machines that work on foot-pedal-power.  They also sew by hand sometimes.  They’ve got supplies to last for the next twenty years, practically.  Like needles and stuff.  Really, it’s like being around in pioneer days or something, but with some stuff from the future thrown in to make it easier.”

We walked out of the trees surrounding our hut and went into our kitchen.  There was some food in a basket but Bodo was gone.

“Where’d he go?” asked Peter, mystified.  “We should have passed him on our way back.”  He turned around and looked in the direction from where we’d come.

“I’m pretty sure he didn’t leave for the outhouse,” I said, digging through my backpack for a new shirt to wear.  The one I’d trained and slept in was getting pretty ripe.

“Where is he, then?”

“With his other girlfriend,” I said, standing up and taking off my dirty top.

“Whaaat?!” said Peter, his hand flying up to his chest.  “You’re kidding me, right?  Because that’s not even funny, Bryn, you butthead.  Don’t scare me like that.”

“No, I’m dead serious.  He has another love.”  I pulled the new shirt on over my head, enjoying the smell of the fresh air that had dried it after I’d washed it out by hand.  It wasn’t fresh-from-the-washer-smelling like my clothes used to be, but it wasn’t totally terrible either.

“Other than you, you mean?” he asked, now with his hands on his hips, sounding pissed off.

“Yes.  Just ask him.  He’ll tell you.”  I smiled to myself, turning so he wouldn’t see it.

“I’m going to.  As soon as I see him again, I’m going to give him a piece of my mind.  That’s just not right, treating you like that.”

“I know, right?”  I kept my back to him, secretly hugging myself for taking advantage of Peter’s gullible nature like this.  He was more than adorable when he was all mad at someone, and better he be mad at Bodo than me, even if it were a falsely-induced mad.

Peter stomped over to the shelves and started straightening the already perfectly-straightened books.

“I’m pretty sure you’ve already alphabetized them
and
lined them up to the millimeter, Peter.”

“Shut up, Bryn.  I’m upset.  Organizing calms me down.”

I felt a little bad now, seeing how seriously he was taking this, so I went over and grabbed his hands, making him stand up in front of me.  “I’m sorry.  I’m teasing you.  Just a little.”

Peter frowned at me, waiting for my explanation.  He was super good at scolding with just a look.

“He does have another love, and she’s female, but she’s not human.  Okay?  Does that make it better?”

“Uh, no. 
Definitely
not.  Because right now I’m thinking about forbidden canner love or something along those lines.”

“Ew
, Peter, no.  Do you honestly think I’d be with him if he was messing around with a canner?”

“God, I hope not,” he said, sassily.

“No, dingaling.  She’s not human.  She’s an animal.  But I really think he should be the one to tell you about her.  It’s kind of … well … like Lily and you in a way.  I mean, it’s not as serious, of course.  But it’s the same basic idea, only level five instead of, like, level one hundred.  Do you get what I mean?”

“Kind of.  And kind of not. But I trust you, so if you still love him despite his other love affair then I’ll wait until he explains himself to me before I judge.”  Peter paused, glancing down at our linked hands.  “You squeezed the bejesus out of my fingers when I said you loved him.”  He looked back up at me, searching my eyes.  “Do you?  Love him I mean?”

I shrugged, trying to pull my hands away, but Peter wouldn’t let go.

“No running away,” he said.  “Talk to Doctor Peter, psychoanalyst.”

I smiled at his goofy but serious face and opened up enough to answer his question.  “I like him very, very much.”  I broke away from Peter’s gaze.  “But he told me last night that he loves me.”  I felt guilty for some reason I didn’t even understand.

“Wow.  That’s so sweet,” said Peter, his voice softening.  “You’re happy about that, right?”

“Yeah.  I guess.”

Peter let go of my hands and grabbed me into a hug.  I tried just patting him on his boney back, but finally gave in to share a real hug when he didn’t relent.

“This gives me hope, Bryn,” he said over my shoulder.  “If you can find someone to love you, then maybe I will, too.”  He made two exaggerated sniffs.

“Hey!” I said, laughing and trying to pull away.  “What’s that supposed to mean, punk?”

He giggled, still talking over my shoulder.  “I’m just saying.  We’re both one in a million.  It’s hard to find people who can appreciate such rare gems.”

I quit trying to disengage myself and hugged him hard.  “Well, when you put it that way, how can I disagree?”

“Hey,” said a voice.  “I’m going to tell Bodo you’re cheating on him,” said an amused Paci from off to my right.

I released Peter and stood up straight.  “Go ahead,” I said cheerfully.  “He’ll have to fight me to keep me off Peter’s irresistible self.”

Peter slapped me in the butt as I walked away to meet Paci.  

“Ready to get your ass kicked?” I asked, bumping fists with him when I got close enough.

“No, I’m ready to kick
other
people’s asses.  I plan on walking away unharmed.”

I snorted.  “Good luck with that.”

“Hey!  So long as I don’t have
you
for a partner, I have a fighting chance.”

“Maybe,” I said, noncommittally.  Paci wasn’t the best fighter of the group, but he sure wasn’t the worst either.  What he lacked in skill he made up for in enthusiasm.  Even when he was knocked down pretty hard, he always came bouncing up for more.  He’d made it this far, and I was pretty sure he’d make the final cut; but there was no way of knowing until we did the final tests.

“Come on,” he said.  “I’ll walk with you.”

I looked over at Peter who was folding up our blankets.  “See you, Peter.  Enjoy your weaving.”

“Yeah.  Enjoy your man-beating,” he said cheerfully.

I laughed silently as I followed Paci out of our hut and through the trees.

***

Paci and I arrived at the clearing to find everyone already there, including Bodo.  He frowned at me as I walked up to say hello, leaving Paci to go join his friends.

“What’s up?” I asked, noticing that his eyebrows were drawn together.

“Nothing.  Chust watching dat Paci and wanting to be with him over dare.”  Bodo was gesturing to the area where the test-fighting went on.

“Jealousy,” I said aloud, but mostly thinking it to myself.  I wasn’t sure how I felt about it.  On one hand it was flattering, but on another, it was annoying.

I quickly decided it irritated me more than anything else.  I spoke so only Bodo would hear me.  “Bodo, just because you’re my boyfriend or whatever, it doesn’t mean you own me.”

“Yes, I know,” he said quietly.  “My brain knows dis, of course.  But my heart wants to smash him on da head.  Is dat wrong?”  He looked almost confused.

“I guess it’s normal for a guy to feel that way, but to me, it’s not cool.  I don’t like the idea that you consider me your territory or something.”

“Okay, den.  I will try not to dream about the smashing of hiss face, den.”  Bodo leaned over and kissed me right on the mouth.

I didn’t even have time to respond, and by the time I had a suitably annoyed retort worked out in my head, he had walked away to join the group of guys that didn’t include Paci.  I shook my head at his retreating form. 
Guys are so weird sometimes.

I turned my attention to the groups of people scattered about the area, noticing for the first time that there were a lot more here than I had winnowed the group down to yesterday.

“So … uh … looks like we have too many people here.”

“Spectators,” said Kowi loudly from where he was standing at the edge of the trees.  Trip was next to him, his arms crossed.  His expression gave nothing away, but I could tell Kowi was happy about the turnout.

“Okaaay.  I guess that’s fine.”  I shifted my attention to the remaining candidates who had gathered together in the center of the clearing.  “Three lines, divided evenly.  Go.  Now.”  I clapped my hands together twice, startling them into movement.  I loved seeing my father’s old techniques working like that.  It made me feel like he was with me, watching over my shoulder, urging me in the right direction.

“Two-on-one drills today, but first we’re going to do some warm-ups.  Punches.  Go!”  I watched as they jumped into position and got their muscles ready to work, all of them showing off their natural skills and balance that had marked them as easy candidates for this last session.  It was going to be really hard picking the final group.

Trip and Kowi wandered over and stood with me.

“They look good,” said Kowi.  “Like they’ve been doing this longer than just a couple days.”

I nodded.  “Yeah.  These guys are naturals.”  The group still included a few girls, but I wasn’t sure if they were going to be able to hang to the end.  “They still need a lot of work, but at least I have something to start with.”

“You think you can get them ready in less than a week?” asked Trip, looking doubtful.

“No, I don’t.  I think I can help them improve on what they already have, skill-wise.  But to get them to the point that I’d feel totally confident they could go out there and kick anybody’s ass, armed or not, I’d need months.  I’m only doing the best I can and that’s it.”

“That’s all anyone expects of you,” said Kowi, frowning at Trip.

Trip walked away, shaking his head slowly, casting glances over at the group still doing their punches.

I couldn’t let his disapproval and worry color my session.  I needed to stay focused, so I stopped looking at him, instead watching each person doing the exercises individually for a few seconds.  I wanted to try and identify anything that would tell me they weren’t ready to leave the safety of the swamp and encounter people with guns and knives.  I saw three possible suspects with weaknesses too easy to exploit - two of them girls - but needed to confirm my suspicions by watching some contact.