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thejusticelounge2012-08-03 11:34 am
bossymarmalade) wrote in thejusticelounge2012-08-03 11:34 am
desert blonde
The first thing they’d done was all shave their hair off.
It helped them to look identical to the eyes of people they’d meet on the road — threw the strangers off, made them think maybe there was a bigger force to face than three blonde girls. Nobody took teenaged blonde girls seriously. They’d learned that back in Topeka, in a swampy hurricane of wild-eyed dirty ravenous attacks that Mia still couldn’t believe they’d managed to fight free of.
Sometimes it was like the remaining living humans were more threatening than the zombies.
Mia shifted her quiver along her shoulder as she watched Steph stand on a burned-out SUV, shading her eyes with her hand as she stared down the road. Cassie came running back from scouting in the other direction and Mia absently admired the high, straight lift of her knees, the way she wasn’t out of breath when she joined Mia in the shade of the overturned pickup she was leaning against.
“There’s a big dugout concrete pipeline in that direction,” Cassie said. “We can hole up there for the night, it’d be good shelter and it’s out of the way.”
“Sounds good to me,” Mia said. “Since we live like rats anyhow.” Cassie rolled her eyes, but the look quickly turned to concern.
“That’s hurting you,” she said, touching her fingers over Mia’s on the strap of her quiver. Mia’d made it herself ages ago, fashioned it from a messenger bag, but the wide nylon strap had so much sand and sweat in it now that it was rubbing her raw. Cassie’s fingers were cool, for a moment, and it was only as they heated up that Mia hissed.
Cassie gave her a hard look. Then she bent over, untied one of the multiple strips of rag she had wound around her legs, and proceeded to wrap it around Mia’s quiver strap. “You’re so dumb,” she said softly, as Mia tipped her head to allow better access. “You push and push yourself and never say when you’re hurt.”
“Don’t notice half the time,” Mia said, letting her voice roll out laconic and raspy. “Everybody’s got shit they don’t talk about, Cass, don’t you know that by now? Maybe I *like* feeling that strap biting into me. Maybe it reminds me that feeling it burn me is better than getting my skull cracked open and my brain scooped out.”
“Still going above and beyond in filling your role as The Cynical One, I see.” Steph hopped down from above them; she was terrifyingly quiet when she wanted to be. Cassie finished wrapping and stepped back, her pretty mouth turning an interesting dark pink, and Mia filed that away for later as she re-hefted her quiver and nodded at the new feeling.
“So, girlies,” she said. “Let’s go kill us some motherfucking zombies.”
It helped them to look identical to the eyes of people they’d meet on the road — threw the strangers off, made them think maybe there was a bigger force to face than three blonde girls. Nobody took teenaged blonde girls seriously. They’d learned that back in Topeka, in a swampy hurricane of wild-eyed dirty ravenous attacks that Mia still couldn’t believe they’d managed to fight free of.
Sometimes it was like the remaining living humans were more threatening than the zombies.
Mia shifted her quiver along her shoulder as she watched Steph stand on a burned-out SUV, shading her eyes with her hand as she stared down the road. Cassie came running back from scouting in the other direction and Mia absently admired the high, straight lift of her knees, the way she wasn’t out of breath when she joined Mia in the shade of the overturned pickup she was leaning against.
“There’s a big dugout concrete pipeline in that direction,” Cassie said. “We can hole up there for the night, it’d be good shelter and it’s out of the way.”
“Sounds good to me,” Mia said. “Since we live like rats anyhow.” Cassie rolled her eyes, but the look quickly turned to concern.
“That’s hurting you,” she said, touching her fingers over Mia’s on the strap of her quiver. Mia’d made it herself ages ago, fashioned it from a messenger bag, but the wide nylon strap had so much sand and sweat in it now that it was rubbing her raw. Cassie’s fingers were cool, for a moment, and it was only as they heated up that Mia hissed.
Cassie gave her a hard look. Then she bent over, untied one of the multiple strips of rag she had wound around her legs, and proceeded to wrap it around Mia’s quiver strap. “You’re so dumb,” she said softly, as Mia tipped her head to allow better access. “You push and push yourself and never say when you’re hurt.”
“Don’t notice half the time,” Mia said, letting her voice roll out laconic and raspy. “Everybody’s got shit they don’t talk about, Cass, don’t you know that by now? Maybe I *like* feeling that strap biting into me. Maybe it reminds me that feeling it burn me is better than getting my skull cracked open and my brain scooped out.”
“Still going above and beyond in filling your role as The Cynical One, I see.” Steph hopped down from above them; she was terrifyingly quiet when she wanted to be. Cassie finished wrapping and stepped back, her pretty mouth turning an interesting dark pink, and Mia filed that away for later as she re-hefted her quiver and nodded at the new feeling.
“So, girlies,” she said. “Let’s go kill us some motherfucking zombies.”