The Colorado Chapters Trilogy by Kathy Miner

Author:Kathy Miner
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: plague, metaphysical, evolution, survival, postapocalyptic, dystopian, speculative
Publisher: Kathy Miner

TWELVE: Grace: Colorado Springs, CO

“Hey! You!”

Grace turned. Loudmouth was headed straight towards her. Her stomach lurched, as it always did, but she held her ground and stared dully at a spot in the center of his chest. It was a trick she’d perfected in the past several weeks: Not quite making eye contact. Eyes were too recognizable, and she’d been far too close to his, too many times.

Loudmouth stopped in front of her and grabbed at the bottle clutched in her arms. “Whatcha got there, Stinky?”

Grace resisted for a moment, hanging on, then let him jerk the half-full bottle away. She sniffed loudly, and swiped at her perpetually streaming nose with a filthy forearm. “Whiskey. Found it in a doctor’s office down on Circle. I was just gonna take it to –” Her mind blanked for a second, and all she could think was “Bean Counter” – the name she’d given the gang’s clip-board-carrying accountant. “To Mr. Watts.” She sniffed again, swiped again, then snuck a grimy forefinger up one nostril. “He said we could get double rations if we brought in alcohol.”

Loudmouth curled his lip at her, then averted his eyes in disgust. “So, what – you thought you’d save this back ‘til then? You been hoarding it?”

“Nuh-uh! Found it this morning, I swear! Give it back,” she wheedled, her voice a nasal whine. She grabbed at the sloshing bottle. “I walked all day to get it here! I’m hungry!”

Loudmouth let her grasp the bottle, let her pull on it, then ripped it free of her hands and shoved her in the same motion. He cackled as she sprawled in the dirt and was already walking away when Grace sat up. Grace stared after him, mouth hanging open – but not far enough to reveal the cotton pads that disfigured her cheeks and lower lip – wearing an expression of dull anger.

“Not fair,” she whined, for the benefit of anyone watching, and because she never, ever broke character. Under the act, though, she felt a rush of adrenalin that bordered on euphoria. It happened every time she interacted with that blowhard, paraded right under his nose, and left him none the wiser.

As far as these people were concerned, she was a scrawny prepubescent boy with a hack-job haircut, a boy whose nose ran constantly, whose eyes were always red and diseased-looking, and who smelled so awful, people gagged if they got too close. A not-too-bright boy who breathed noisily through loose lips and stained teeth, who scuttled around the fringes of things, always looking for a handout. Grace inhabited the character so completely, she sometimes forgot she had ever been someone else.

She struggled to her feet, rubbed her rump, then hurried away, shoulders slumped in dejection. A glance to the west decided her course; she only had a couple hours of daylight left. She didn’t check over her shoulder – to do so would show too much street-savvy for her character – but she did throw all her senses open, feeling for eyes on her, skin prickling as her awareness expanded.

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