Page 31 of Five Survive

“Okay, this is good,” Oliver said, surveying theresourcesthey had managed to gather. Red looked too: a pair of scissors, a lighter, a headlamp, a flashlight, spare batteries, a hammer, a screwdriver, duct tape, Scotch tape, vodka and a kitchen knife. Each item disappearing from her head as soon as she moved onto the next, like one of those memory games she always lost.

“Should I get this in place?” Arthur asked, hoisting the mattress up higher in his grip.

“Yeah, go ahead,” Oliver said. “Out of the way, everyone.”

Arthur walked through slowly, guiding the mattress past corners and people. The handle on the bathroom door tried to grab his shirt and pull him back. Reyna unhooked it for him and he nodded his thanks. He turned awkwardly to avoid Simon on the floor, but the back of the mattress bumped him on the head, and Simon muttered something else unheard.

“It should just slot in here, behind the back cushions,” Oliver said, taking the back end of the mattress and helping Arthur to guide it up and forward, in front of the broken window. They pushed it through, sliding it into the gap between the back of the sofa and the wall, wedged in under the overhead cupboards. “Hold on, it’s blocking the door,” Oliver said, shoving the mattress in farther, tucking the far end in beside the front passenger seat. “There we go,” he said, grabbing it and giving it a shake to check. “That’s wedged in there good.”

It might be wedged in there good, but would a mattress stop a bullet from a precision rifle? Red wasn’t sure it would, but at least they could now pretend they were safe in here, without the outside breathing in through that window. Pretending was half the game, and she should know. Her life depended on it.

“Right, that’s one window done.” Oliver stood back. “We still need to cover the one by the driver’s seat. Red?” He turned to her. “Did you find anything we can use?”

No, she was the only one who had failed on that front, staring down at her useless suitcase, its edges fraying as the threads unpicked themselves, like they wanted to break. And, hey, that gave her an idea, if they wanted it so bad.

“Yes,” she said, surprising herself most of all. “My suitcase. We can flatten it out and use it to board up that window. It’s breaking anyway.”

“Good idea,” Reyna said, ahead of Oliver. “And we can use the duct tape to keep it there.”

Oliver hadn’t said it was a good idea, Red was waiting, but he grabbed the knife from the table and held it out to her, handle first.

“You do the honors,” he said as she took it. “But also, let’s put your stuff somewhere. We don’t want all your crap in the way.”

“We can put it in my case,” Maddy sighed. “I’m sure it will fit, she doesn’t have much.”

Maddy grabbed Red’s suitcase and flipped it over, the upturned contents falling on top of her neatly packed possessions. She sighed again to see it, removing the leaking shampoo bottle and then pressing it all down so the lid would zip shut.

Red hoped Arthur hadn’t looked at her balled-up underwear. She knew one pair she’d packed had unicorns on it; Santa had gottenthem for her that final Christmas. Red hadn’t believed in him since she was eight, of course, but it was tradition that Santa got the Kennys ugly socks and underwear for Christmas. Only, Santa must have died when her mom did.

“Oli, can you help me get my bag back up there and out of the way?” Maddy asked.

Only his little sister was allowed to call him Oli. Believe her, Red had learned the hard way.

“Yep, sure.” He grunted as he lifted the double-packed case, Arthur opening the overhead cupboard for him as he drew close, helping him squeeze the stuffed bag inside.

Simon was just finishing up, brushing the last few shards and crumbs of broken glass from the sofa, backing away as he finished. The floor was all clear now. He carried the full pan into the kitchen—Red sucked in a breath as he stumbled, tripping over nothing—but his hand was somehow steady. He opened the cupboard with the trash can and dumped the glass out, tapping the pan against the edge to get the last of the glittering dust.

“Go on, Red.” Oliver had returned, standing over her as she crouched by the empty shell of her suitcase. “Let’s get this done.”

Red tightened her grip on the knife, holding it out to the corner nearest her. She tried not to look at the luggage tag hanging from the top, but her eyes betrayed her. Come on, it didn’t matter. Mom wasn’t in that luggage tag, Mom was dead. And they needed something to block the window; Red had to be useful, like everyone else was. She pressed the knife against the corner, sawing down with the serrated edge, cutting through the zipper, and the fabric, and the cardboard underneath. The knife chewed up the material with its teeth, splitting the corner apart. Red shifted to get the next one, the handle ofthe knife growing warm in her hands. Why did she find the wordresourcesfunny anyway? What she really should be thinking about instead was that red dot out there, and the person in charge of it. Watching. Waiting?

“Good job on the glass, Simon,” Oliver said, a delayedwell done,but awell doneall the same. A good leader motivates his team. Delegation. Motivation. Would Oliver saygood jobto her when she finished butchering her mom’s old suitcase?

“There,” she said, sitting back, the final corner cut through, the sides of the suitcase lying prone against the floor.

“All right, get it in place, then.”

That was all thewell doneshe got. Oliver Lavoy wasn’t as liberal with his approval as Maddy or Catherine. They gave Redwell dones all the time, if she’d earned them.

“I’ll help,” Arthur said, stepping forward to grab the duct tape and scissors from the table. Threeresourcesused already, oh come on, would she stop it with theresources.Just think of another word, then.Stuff. Thingamabobs. Jawn.

Red stood, picking up the remains of her suitcase, carrying it to the front of the RV, a few steps behind Arthur. He drew the edge of the curtain out a couple of inches and leaned closer to take a quick look.

“Just one of the panes shattered,” he said. “This side.” He gestured to the one at the front. “Do you want to hold it up and I’ll tape it?”

“That’s what she said!”

“Simon, come on, really,” Maddy snapped. “Now is not the time or place. If that’s the last thing I hear before I die, then I swear to God…”

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