All Smiles

Chapter Three (Lawrence's P.O.V.)

Lawrence awoke with a start and sunlight spilled into his vision. It wasn't exactly a scenic place to wake, with cracked cement floors and concrete littered about, but he was nonetheless thankful. It was a blessing simply to be alive, to breathe. He stifled a yawn and slipped from his sleeping bag, his vision bleary with sleep. He ran a hand thoughtlessly through his mess of curly, blonde hair, and blinked. He rose to hit feet quickly, and dusted off his shirt. Lawrence, as usual, wasn't the only one awake. Sitting quietly at the jarred entrance of camp was Krista, her back to him, leaning against the door frame with a rifle at her side. It was the last shift of night watch, and whether she had made the whole shift without giving in to sleep, he couldn't tell. Not that it was any of his business, really.

Night watch schedules weren't as strictly observed as the other protocols. Rosse, however hard she tried to instill a sense that staying constantly alert was an urgent necessity, he and the others had a nasty habit of slipping in a few moments of sleep under her nose. Really, Lawrence thought, that this was no news to Rosse. The woman knew everything. If a tree fell in the woods and no one was around to hear it, Rosse would still know when, where, and why it fell in excruciating detail - and exactly what it sounded like. That was her method, her painstaking thoroughness. It was a trait that Lawrence admired.
        He eased up behind Krista, careful not to spook her, and peered over her shoulder. She was asleep, alright. Her head lolled at an angle and her mouth hung open, in such an endearing way that Lawrence couldn't help but smile. She was pretty, she really was. If only he was about three years older, fifteen pounds heavier, and had access to a shower in the last four months...
        He shook her shoulder lightly, hoping to rouse her peacefully. "Krista, your shift's over." he whispered. Despite his best efforts, she didn't even stir. He raised his voice a little. "Krista. Kris, come on." after an exhausting amount of jabbing, her eyes finally fluttered open, and fixed on him.

"What? Am I late for breakfast?" her voice was groggy, her eyes only half open. He sighed.

"No, but your shift's over. I'm up now, so you better start looking alive before Rosse is, too." She nodded, and Lawrence felt his heart thrumming wildly against his ribs at the thought of how close they were, how little air separated their faces. For a split second, their eyes met, but she looked away, picked up her rifle, and wandered to the back of the building. He was tempted to let his eyes follow her, but he didn't bother. He saw the way she looked at him, like a little brother. A kid, not a love interest. What was the point?
        He shrugged off his feelings of dismay and stood up, following her path to the back wall. He readied himself for the day ahead, woke Scorpio, and headed outside. Rosse was usually there by the time he was ready; outside on the blacktop, when the group shared breakfast. Sure enough, his prediction held true. She was waiting, propped against the adjacent building, examining her pistol.
          "I'm ready, Rosse." He addressed her, and she glanced in his direction. She grunted in acknowledgement, not looking up from her examination of the Glock 19 in her hands. Lawrence frowned.

"Is something wrong?"

        "Pistol's jammed, that's all." her tone was relatively unconcerned, but still, Lawrence could sense irritation. She lowered it from her view and placed it back in its holster. Then, without hesitance, she made a high-pitched whistle.
          Moments later, Scorpio and Krista scampered into view. Krista was panting, a clear indication of their hurry. Scorpio muttered something under his breath, but the woman ignored it. Rosse cleared her throat and began.
        "Today will be busy," she declared, her gaze analyzing the group, not looking awfully impressed. "Krista, you'll be cooking today. Scorpio, I need you to check and ready all the equipment. You, Lawrence, are coming with me to gather firewood."
          Lawrence's eyes sparkled with excitement, and his shoulders tensed. While it wasn't a duty that was any real honor or privilege, it was something he looked forward to. Getting outside of camp, getting to stretch his legs and look around, was something he never passed up. The corner of Rosse's mouth twitched, curving upward just subtly enough to be noticed. A smile. Was she smiling at him?
          The group ate their breakfast in a hurry, as usual. It wasn't much, just a can of lukewarm baked beans, but meals were nothing grand out here. Rationing was important, in case they ran into trouble on a Run, in case they turned up dry. When they all finished, Krista gathered the scraps and tossed them out of the way, keeping anything that might be useful for later.
           As soon as Lawrence finished his small meal, Rosse approached him. "You said you were ready?" she inquired, and he answered with an enthusiastic nod. She scanned the horizon and then point east. "We're heading that way, towards the busier side of the city. I think you know what to expect." she looked at him now, and her eyes flashed. He knew the answer. Mentals. Lots and lots of Mentals.
          "I'm letting you come because I trust that you can handle a horde, kid. Don't let me down." there was a strange softness to her voice, something that was usually missing from her tone. It intrigued him, but he chose not to mention it.
          "I can do it, ma'am." Lawrence straightened his posture, trying to seem brave and confident, even though he felt nervousness thrashing within him like a vicious tidal wave. He was sure she could see through his act, but Rosse seemed satisfied. Without another word, she started off towards the business sector, and Lawrence followed behind.