Patastrophe

Little Room

"Heyyy, sup guys?" she said and pushed the pistol to one of the pockets of her jeans, half of it poking out. "Saw these guys? These shitheads are new around town, a small tribe I'd say, and they come from-" she checked the clothes the two dead men wore: full-on pants and thin coats. "-from the west, around one of the larger Haggler settlements." she said.

I rolled my eyes and turned them away, taking sudden interest in the back part of the room. With the corner of my eye, I could see James showing that goddamn flirty smile of his and leaning on the wall.

"Well hello there." he said. "Sad that you didn't leave any guys for me."

I walked to the back of the room and stood next to some of the fellows chatting. They paused when they saw me, then went back to talking about whether or not there'd be some other journey away after this.

"Don't worry, we'll get you some." I heard Hoe say. "So, how's life?"

"Happily ever after." James replied. "Aaaaall casual. How you doing?" His voice had a funny tone.

"Happily ever after, I like that. What you say? Nevada or Madrid? Oh wait, maybe even Paris! Betcha that place's still romantic, even after the bombing." she chuckled.

What kind of flirting is this? I thought and tried to listen to the small group and where they could go – most of them really wanted to go south and check out The Detachment.

"Of course, m'lady, but why not go for some adventures first? Some deadly future." I could hear the grin in his voice. "Of course, any after is happily ever once we get outta here." He mumbled something I barely even heard, let alone understand. The sound of Hoe laughing, and the door opening and closing once. Footsteps closing in to me.

"Done?" I asked as I turned around to see James with a leftover smile. "Or are you not done discussing your happily ever after with m'lady?"

"The whole place should be safe now, and you have no right to poke at me with that." he said.

I formed a sinister smile. "Oh I have aall the right, mate. I have 'em aaaaall." I walked to the door and looked at James. "Anyway, you coming? Better have the romantic bastard with me than not."

He grinned and walked over. "What happened to Max, by the way?" he teased me.

I opened the door and we walked outside into the crowd of parents looking for their children. A couple, I noticed, were crying. We went the other way. "If I won't be questioning your things with her, you won't tease me with all the bullshittery of the past." I replied.

"Yeah, yeah, sure thing, of-" he was saying as I heard a shout from the end of the corridor.

"Patriciaaa!" It was my mother. I looked away at James.

I sighed. "Come oooon." James chuckled, and I elbowed him, turning back to face my mom. I watched as her tired-looking face, adorned with two blue eyes and a little scar on her left cheek, making her look like she's made that with some paint. She walked over and took my face between her hands. "Are you okay? I ran here as fast as I could when I heard the news! Did they harm you?" She glanced at James, then before I could even open my mouth, she went on interrogating me.

"What happened? Hear that there were people coming in for a shooting, are they alive? Did your teachers help you out?" She stood for a moment, thinking. "Yes, I must thank them for keeping you alive and safe and well and-" I gently took her hands off my face and stepped back. "Don't, mom."

She looked back at me, frowning. "Why not? There was no way that you would be able to fend them off with some knives!" she said.

"Uuuh, yeah, about that, we sort of did." I said. James looked away.

"We?" she asked. "As in with, you and the classmates?"

I nodded. "As in with, me and him." I pointed at James. My mom wrinkled her face – she didn't like him.

"You and him?!" she said. "You and him!" she shouted. "You and him?" Her voice was hysterical. I guided her to the principal's room, knowing it'd be empty now. Two people were carrying his body away. My mom was busy freaking out and this went unnoticed, the two men minding their own business.

We took our seats on two barely-standing chairs in the room filled with old tech parts, or as Mr. Jameson -the principal- would call, "sensible junk". My mom looked at me in the eye and asked: "Tell me what happened. I need to know." And so I told her how we first killed the two, how others joined up and all that, save for the parts where I got hit and James flirted. When I was done, I stood up, sighed and stretched my legs around the room. My mom was silent. After a minute, though, she talked: "We're going."

"What?" I asked.

"We're going. Away from here. It's not safe anymore, it seems. I believe that many others will also." She looked determined about this thought.

"We're just fine!" I exclaimed.

"What was it that happened today?" she asked. "Oh, right. A raid."

"It wasn't a raid, mom. At most a dive-in or something like so, a friend said they were-"

"I don't care what your friend said, Patricia, we're going." She stood up and stormed out the door. I followed her, knowing to stay silent. James was talking with his parents, smiling. He saw my grim expression, pressed his lips and waved with a smile: Good luck with that. We went back home.