The Boss's Daughter

02

Today I wandered away from our sanctuary. I do this at least twice a week. It gets boring around there with no one my age to talk to. Well, there are a few people, but none of them are worth wasting my breath for.

Daddy knows about my little adventures, but he doesn't worry. He knows I can handle myself. Especially because of my mace. He insists I name it, but I don't very much see the point. And anyway, I can never think of anything good.

I always go to the woods when I wander. It's peaceful there, though I usually prefer chaos. I take a new path today. I usually take a left at the half-fallen tree, but today, I go right. I walk for a while, marking trees as I go so I can find my way back.

After about an hour, I see something in the distance. It looks like a person sitting on a log reading something. I slowly and quietly get closer.

As the distance between us becomes less and less, I'm able to see more and more of the figure. It's a boy. He has long brown hair and wears a brown cowboy hat. A scowl rests on his face as he reads what looks like a comic book. I can only see the left side of his face, but from what I can tell, he's about my age. And very cute.

I'm very close now. Maybe a yard and a half. He still hasn't seen me. Dangerous move for someone to be out on their own when they can't even see or hear someone sneak up on them. I'll give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he wants to be snuck up on. Maybe he secretly wants to be killed. I won't oblige.

I look at the ground around me. There's a thick twig right beside my foot. I tuck myself further behind the large tree and step on the twig, causing it to break with a loud snap. I hear the comic book crumple slightly. After a few seconds, I innocently peak one eye out from behind the tree.

The boy is now standing fully erect with a handgun drawn. Now I see his entire face. His right eye is covered with a white bandage. I'm immediately more enticed by him. He won't be bothered by my scar. Not that I'm insecure about it. I think it's badass, personally.

He sees me. As I intended him to. "Come out from behind there," he says.

I casually stroll out from behind the tree. The boy's gun lowers ever so slightly. He probably wasn't expecting a girl. Or maybe it's the scar. His eye darts down to the mace in my hand. His eye widens at the sight of it before looking back up at my face.

"I know right," I laugh. I raise the mace a bit and let out a sigh as I look at it. "I've had it for a few years now, and I still can't get over how awesome it is."

"Drop it," the boy demands.

"Ah come on, you can trust me," I smile. "I never use it without reason."

"I said 'drop it.'"

I sarcastically put my hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay, geez." I drop the mace on the ground between us.

Keeping his gun drawn, he picks up my mace and blindly tosses it off to the side. "Who are you?" He asks, returning his other hand to the gun.

"Name's Eliza," I say, outstretching my hand and stepping closer to him. "But you can call me Liza or Eli for short." He only glances at my hand. He keeps the scowl on his face and ignores my gesture. I slowly lower my hand. "Rude," I mumble.

"What group are you with?" He presses.

"Group? I'm not with any group," I say. "I'm all by myself."

"Right," his says disbelievingly. "You're by yourself without any supplies."

I shrug. "I get by."

He rolls his eye. "Do you want something, or are you just going to waste my time?"

"Ooo sassy, I like it," I smile.

He shakes his head and turns back toward his comic book, dropping his arms. He sits back down and flips through the book, looking for the appropriate page.

"What'd you say your name was?" I ask, strolling towards him.

"I didn't."

"Exactly!" He flashes his eye up at me. "I introduced myself, and you rudely ignored me."

He shakes his head. "Would you just go back to whatever camp you came from and leave me alone?"

I sigh and look down at my feet. "Okay, look," I start. "I just wanted to make friends! The kids at my camp are so boring. But you? I like you. You're not afraid of me."

"They're afraid of you?"

I shrug again. "Yeah well," I sit next to him on the log, "being the leader's kid has its disadvantages."

He looks at me. His lonely blue eye looks directly into my hazel ones. I'll save that begging question for another time. He has to trust me first.

What this boy doesn't know is that the kids don't fear me because they're afraid of what Daddy might do. They're afraid of what I might do if they say the wrong thing. I've heard some people say "She's just as crazy as her father." Those people get off with a warning: a hole through their hand courtesy of my mace.

"Carl," the boy says. "My name is Carl."