He pulls the trigger once more. His father's head jolts back, and he falls. His moaning ceases, his arms lay flat on the ground, and his chest deflates.
Patrick's tears erupt from him, and he falls to the ground. His body erratically thrashes. He pulls his knees to his chest, clutching them so tightly it hurts. He rocks back and forth continually asking, "Why?" to himself, to no one.
There were no goodbyes.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
"How often have you been to this area?" Rosaline asks, brushing hair off her sweaty forehead.
"This exact area, only twice before.” Hawaii replies, “We've been slowly expanding out as we rotate hunting grounds, seems to keep animals around longer.
"Up ahead looks pretty open. You sure we're safe?"
Sweetie causally bumps into Rosaline's arm, gaining her attention. She slows down allowing Hawaii to resume leading their three person hunting pack.
"¡Ay bendito! Why you stressin', nena!" she exclaims, flashing a smile.
"I just, I don't like to be exposed."
"Oh yeah," -Sweetie's brow raises in a manner that could only be interpreted as alluring- "never?"
The small warrior breaks eye contact with the teasing Latina, her shy temperament rearing it's head. Sweetie brushes against her again.
"Be comfortable with me."
Rosaline's nervous state continues as she hastily nods, "Okay, yeah."
"Okay?" Sweetie asks, grinning.
"I'm trying, I am, I just, um, I don't know."
Sweetie throws her head back, "¡Ay nena!" -she bumps Rosaline once more- "No, don't do that! Don't be shy, talk to me!" she says, giggling as she pokes at the timid woman.
"Sorry, I, um," -Rosaline's face flushes, reddening as if the sun were pounding upon only her- "I think you're cool and, you know, um, pretty."
Sweetie's smile extends from ear to ear. She giggles, "You just call me pretty nena?" she says.
"Ugh, yeah," -Rosaline's face scrunches, disgusted with herself- "that was lame."
"Yeah, a little."
Rosaline's skittishness eases allowing her to join Sweetie in laughing.
"Tell me something real, nena. Tell me about your mom."
Rosaline takes in a deep breath, wanting to allow herself to open up.
"She was amazing."
She can't help but to glow when thinking about her mother.
"She was really smart, and funny, and even though this world is so fucked up she never let us feel it. She made us feel safe."
"Us?" Sweetie asks, her head turning to look at Rosaline, slightly angling down, her hair sweeping over the side of her face.
"Yeah, me and my sister."
"What happened to them?"
"They...uh..."
Rosaline's voice cracks, her eyes swell, her hand nervously rustles with her hair.
"Hey" -Sweetie hunches down to her eye level- "it's okay, you don't have to."
"No, no," -Rosaline shakes her head regaining her composure- "I want to."
She inhales again, sharply, swallowing down the pain these memories bring her.
"We had set up camp, at the top of a hill, figured we could hear them coming if, if they did, but...I don't know what happened. Regan, my sister, was supposed to be keeping watch so mom could sleep some..."
She trails, swallowing down more anguish.
"It's okay." Sweetie says, comforting her.
"I woke up with my mom's hand covering my mouth, she was...that fucking thing was pulling her apart. We tried to run, but, one got Regan too."
"Can I?" Sweetie asks, with her arms out wide.
Rosaline nods then Sweetie pulls her in close, wrapping her arm around the distraught woman's shoulders.
"I'm so sorry nena."
"Yeah" -Rosaline wipes the tears from her face- "me too."
Sweetie hugs her tightly, resting her head upon Rosaline's.
"Hey, I have a odd question." says Rosaline.
"What?"
"What does 'nena' mean?"
Sweetie laughs, throwing her head back, genuinely surprised by the question.
"It means like girl or woman."
"And...ban...bandito?"
"¡Ay bendito!"
"Yeah" -a chuckle escapes her- "that one."
"It's an expression, it means, like, 'Oh you poor thing' like kinda surprised but understanding."
"So, it's kind of an insult?"
"I mean, I guess it can be, but that's not what I mean when I say it."
"What language is that?"
"You don't know what Spanish is?!"
"I mean, I don't really know anything, you know. I've never met anyone who speaks another language."
"Shit, really?"
Rosaline nods, feeling a bit embarrassed.
"I mean, yeah, I get that, I guess. There was lots of different people in the community. My abuela-”
Sweetie catches herself, noticing the scrunching of Rosaline's face.
“Abuela means grandma. My mama and my abuela spoke Spanish to us a lot, always talked to us about Puerto Rico, they said it was important to keep cultures alive, to pass them on, or they die, you know?"
"That makes sense. I'm Japanese, but I don't really know anything about it. My mom was born in America, so were her parents, but their parents were born in Japan. I never knew any of them."
"And your dad?"
"He was Japanese-American too, but I never knew him. He died when I was really young."
"I'm sorry."
"It's fine, can't miss what you didn't know."
Sweetie wraps her arm around Rosaline again, "I like you nena."
She blushes, her eyes wander up to meet Sweetie's, "I like you too."
Hawaii pops into view coming back up from the hill in front of them, lightly jogging to meet them.
"Just down in the valley, we got a deer there last time." he says.
It's game time. The three unpack the supplies they brought with them, and make a camp site to store their provisions. They push a log down into the valley. Rosaline and Sweetie set up on the log with their rifles, covering themselves with the green blanket they brought.
Hawaii climbs a tree near them, hunkering down against it on a solid branch. He scans the area with his binoculars, keeping his crossbow at the ready.
Nearly three hours pass with the three keeping total silence, waiting for their meal to come into view. Rosaline is surprised that the usually talkative Sweetie is able to keep calm for this long. She figures Hawaii wouldn't have brought her if she couldn't handle it.
Rosaline's thoughts go the Mikey. She wonders how he's doing without her today. This is the longest they've ever been apart, and she misses him dearly. Sweetie's shoulder nudges against hers. Her eyes dart
