Apocalypsis 03 - Exodus

tears for a while … maybe for a lifetime. I was done with sadness and ready to move on to hope. Until I saw evidence of his dead body, I was going to assume he was alive and out there somewhere for me to find.
    I came out from behind the curtain almost feeling like a new person. I was clean, my arm was healing, and I had a mission. Plus, I’d killed a monster that had haunted my nightmares for weeks on end, so that was enough to make me ready to at least face the day and find out what Kowi wanted from me.
    “Come on, Peter. Let’s go find out what Kowi’s deal is.”
    “Okee dokee. Come on, Buster! Let’s go see the boss! Yes, yes, yes!” he started baby-talking. “The bossy wossy. The chiefy weefy…”
    I smiled watching the two of them act like complete idiots. Life did not totally suck, and I refused to wallow in sorrow anymore until I knew for sure that I had a reason to.

CHAPTER TWO

    PETER AND I ENTERED THE clinic and went to Kowi’s bedside. He was propped up, reading a book. As we got closer, I realized it was George’s journal. I bit back the scolding that was on the tip of my tongue. He had to be bored out of his mind in here, so I could hardly blame him for wanting some good reading material. I still hadn’t read everything in it, probably because every page was worth studying.
    “Oh, hey.” Kowi held up the book. “Borrowed the journal. Hope that’s okay.”
    “No problem,” I said, trying to keep my eyes off the bandage that was on his abdomen. It had some blood seeping through. “How are you feeling?”
    “Better, actually.” He looked down at his wound. “If the damn thing would quit leaking, I’d feel a little more comfortable about saying that, though.”
    “That’s normal,” said Celia, coming in to join us. “Hey, Bryn … Peter. What’s up?”
    “Just coming by for a visit,” said Peter. “How are you doing?”
    Celia lifted up her half-arm which was still bandaged. She seemed to be more comfortable moving it around now, when before she had always kept it glued to her side. “As good as I can be, I guess.” She turned her attention to Kowi. “Here. Take this.” She handed him a pill and a bottle of water. “Drink the whole thing.”
    “Yes, boss,” he said, before throwing the pill into his mouth and gulping down the entire bottle. He handed it back to her. “There you go. Ready to poke and prod now?”
    She scowled at him. “I’ll do that later, after they leave.” She walked away to tend to another patient.
    “What are they poking you for?” asked Peter, probably wondering like me if they were doing some weird-ass medicine man stuff on him.
    “Just redoing the bandages, seeing if there’s any pus in there.”
    Peter grimaced. “Sorry I asked.”
    Kowi smiled. “Hey, I’m not complaining. Being poked is better than the alternative.”
    “Not being poked?” I asked.
    He laughed. “No. Being too dead to bother poking.” Then his smile disappeared. “Oh, crap. Sorry, Bryn. I didn’t … mean anything by it.”
    I grinned madly at him. “No offense.”
    Kowi frowned at me and then looked at Peter. Peter was staring at me like I’d lost my mind.
    “Stop looking at me like that. Bodo’s not dead. I’d know it if he were.”
    Peter’s eyes got wide but he said nothing. Kowi cleared his throat but otherwise remained quiet. An uncomfortable silence fell over the area, so I said the first thing that came to mind, trying to change the subject.
    “So … canners. Some escaped …”
    Kowi glanced down at the journal he held in his hand and said, “Yeah.” He looked back up. “I’ve been reading some stuff in here, and I wanted to talk to you and Trip about it.”
    “Why me?” I asked.
    “Because I trust you to make good decisions for our welfare. You know how to fight better than any of us, and it’s always going to fall to you to make us ready for whatever comes.”
    I felt proud and pressured at the same time. It brought my happiness level down several notches.
    Peter slung his arm across my shoulders. “Bryn’s totally there for you guys, just like I am. But she needs time to recover. She’s been through a lot.”
    “We all have. I’m not saying she needs to do anything until she’s ready. But I’m worried those canners who got away will try and find us.”
    “How will they? They don’t even know where we came from,” said Peter.
    “We were all wearing moccasins and warpaint. It’s no mystery most of us are Native