“I think we need to scout around at least,” I suggest. “Find out our bearings, look for food and water, and report back.”
“But most of us are injured,” sniffs one girl. Tiffany. She looks like she is fresh off the farm and utterly terrified. Some of us have taken our captivity with grim determination, and some have completely fallen apart. Tiffany’s in the latter category.
“You should go, Georgie,” Liz chimes in.
“Me?” I sputter.
“You’re kind of our leader.”
God, I hate that I’m not the only one who thought that. I glance up at the snow pouring through the crack overhead. It looks cold, and I’m in shorty pajamas. “How am I the leader? I’m practically the last one to arrive.” Only Dominique was captured after me.
“Yeah, but you’re the one with all the plans. You’re the one who killed the guard, and Kira needs to stay here in case the others return because she’s got the ear thing. And my knee’s all jacked up. I wouldn’t get very far. Besides, you’re the one who’s good with the gun.” Liz flutters her lashes at me.
I snort. “Good at bashing things, you mean.”
“Hey, you did better than the rest of us, Georgie. Seriously.” She mock-punches at the air, pretending to box. “You want me to hum you some ‘Eye of the Tiger’ to get you pumped up?”
“Gee, thanks,” I tell her, trying to be upset that I just got volunteered. But it kinda has to be me, I think. Other than Kira and Liz, the others aren’t much of leaders. Everyone is hurt, and I want to point out that my wrist is fucked and my ribs ache, but . . . everyone is hurt. Liz is limping, Kira’s got a busted leg, and the others are a mess. Do I want to leave my fate in the hands of another and hope she could scout decently? “Anyone in here have any survival experience?”
Someone sniffs back tears. Other than that, silence.
Yeah. No one is equipped for this.
At my side, Liz hums “Eye of the Tiger.”
I shoot her the bird. “Okay, fine. If I’m going out in the snow, I need a couple of bars, the gun, and some water.”
“We don’t have canteens,” Liz points out. “Just eat the snow.”
“Not the yellow snow,” someone else quips.
“Oh sure, everyone’s a comedian now that I’m the one going out to scout,” I grumble, but I stretch my legs and tested my wrist and ribs, wincing. It sucks, but we’re low on options. “Okay, I’m somehow going to climb out of that hole in the roof, I guess. I need some clothes.” I gaze down at my dirty shorty pajamas. “I’m guessing these won’t cut it.”
“I know where you can get some nice warm clothing,” Liz says, and points at the dead guard.
“Ugh,” I say, though I was thinking the same thing. “I was kinda hoping someone would miraculously spring out a parka or something.”
“No such luck,” says Tiffany, getting to her feet. “I’ll help you undress him.”
A short time later, Tiffany and I have stripped the body of his clothing and try to figure out how to put it back on me. There are weird invisible buckles and fastenings instead of the usual zippers and buttons, and it smells like sewage and blood and some other spicily-nauseating scent, but it’s surprisingly warm and lined. The jacket’s a little tight across my breasts and makes me look like I have a uniboob, but I’m not wearing this for fashion. The biggest problems are that there are no gloves for my hands and the shoes are designed to fit something with only two big toes instead of five little ones. I squeeze my feet into each shoe, but it hurts.
Still better than nothing, I suppose, which is what I had before.
“Keep your hands tucked in your jacket,” Tiffany suggests. “Your body warmth should help.”
I nod and shove the gun down the front of the jacket, too, letting the long barrel rest between my boobs. I braid my dirty hair to get it out of my face, take the bars Liz offers me, and suck in a deep breath. “I’m going to go as far as I can,” I tell the others. “I’m going to look for help. Or people. Or food. Something. But I’ll be back. If I don’t come back by tomorrow, um, well . . . don’t come looking for me.”
“God, I wish I had some wood to knock on right about now,” Liz says. “Don’t say shit like that.”
“I’ll be fine,” I tell her, bluffing. “Now, help me get up to the ceiling so I can climb out.”