Apocalypsis 02 - Warpaint

advantage of the fact that my arms were pinned down by Mr. Bryn. I pushed Bodo away and got up, wiping the dog drool off my face as I followed Buster out of the hut and headed over to the bathrooms. I was glad for the few minutes alone before the day started so I could get my head on straight and figure out finally what I wanted to do. I tried to think of all the situations we’d be getting into and the skills we’d need to execute our plans, designing physical tests around them that would highlight the candidates’ strengths and weaknesses.
    Peter was outside the outhouse door when I finished, yawning and still looking half asleep.
    “What are you doing up so early?” I asked.
    “Gotta get you organized,” he said, stepping into the small room and leaving me alone outside.
    I gave him some space and waited for him to come out. He joined me a couple minutes later and we walked back to the hut together.
    “I worked it all out.” Peter paused to yawn again. “I have fifteen people per session. Sorry I couldn’t make them smaller. You only gave me a day and there are lots of people to see.”
    “Don’t worry about it. That’s fine. How many sessions?”
    “You have one hundred and thirteen indians and Bodo. I assumed you wanted to include him.”
    I didn’t argue, even though the truth was I wanted to keep him out of it.
    “You said thirty minute sessions and all in one day, so that makes almost eight sessions. And you need breaks in between and meals, so that’s pretty much you working all day. I mixed guys and girls together, since I figured you’d want to test them to find the strongest ones, and it didn’t make sense to split the girls off by themselves. I hope that’s okay.”
    “Yeah, it’s fine. And I can manage that schedule. I thought it was going to be worse, actually. Thanks, Peter.”
    “You are very welcome.” He smiled, proud of himself, I could tell.
    “Did you write it down for me somewhere?”
    “No. It’s in my head, though.”
    I looked at him askance. “You have all of them? In your head?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Names and everything.” I said. No way did I believe that.
    “Yes. Do you doubt me?”
    “No. Yes. I don’t know.”
    He rattled off a list of people I was going to see at 11:30, and I put my hand up to stop him.
    “Fine. I get it. You memorized the entire schedule. How did you do that?”
    “Discipline. I’ve forced myself for years to remember all kinds of details. I can look at a scene and remember almost everything I saw, even months later.”
    “Wow. That’s kinda freaky, actually.”
    “It’s a skill, Bryn, not a handicap.”
    I was thinking about how it was a skill we could probably really use in our recon mission. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to share my thoughts out loud, though, because the idea of having little wimpy Peter out there anywhere near those canners made me feel sick to my stomach. I decided to wait and see what the day brought before I seriously considered it.
    “So what happened with you and Bodo yesterday? I noticed him demanding kisses and you not arguing about it. Does that mean he’s Mr. Bryn now?”
    “Shut up,” I said, shoving Peter gently. “Don’t call him that. If friggin Paci or any of them hear it, I’ll never live it down.” I sighed. “But yeah, he’s, like, my boyfriend I guess you could say.”
    “That’s nice.” Peter was smiling, so I knew he wasn’t making fun of me.
    “Yeah, it is. I think my dad would have liked him.”
    “So his secrets don’t bother you anymore?”
    “No.”
    “Did you find out what they are?”
    “Yep.”
    “Well? Fess up! What’d he say?”
    “I’ll have to let him tell you. Or show you. It’s not my secret to share.”
    “Party pooper,” said Peter, pouting. “That is so not fair.”
    “No, this one is not your regular secret kind of thing. It’s something more than that.”
    “Oh,” said Peter, more subdued now. “Do you think he’ll tell me?”
    “I know he will. Just give him some time.”
    Peter sighed. “Okay. It’s not like I’m going anywhere.”
    Not if I have anything to say about it.
    ***
    I arrived at the session after everyone had already gathered in the clearing set up for our purposes. Fifteen kids stood in front of me, more guys than girls, all of them wearing indian garb in one form or another. It made me think that when we did our recon, we’d want to be wearing regular street clothes and not something that identified us as coming from