The Reasons Seem Weird, But...

It takes a moment for Meg’s suggestion to fully sink in.

“Wait, what?” You can’t decide whether to be flattered by her trust that you could be the best leader for your little group, or to be insulted by the implication that you’re only the best available. “What kind of reasoning is that?”

“Simple.” Meg manages to aim Trusty one handed as she uses the other to count reasons on her fingers. “I’ll be honest here: I’m not a leading type. I’m not really the kind of person to willingly take charge and the only reason anyone would listen to me in most situations is the fact that I have about a dozen different weapons capable of personal harm in my apartment and can make more.” At this, Heather visibly pales, Alex flinches and backs away even further, and Charlie’s look of bewilderment deepens into outright inability to process.

“What are you, some kind of apocalypse preparedness nut?” Alex seems to realize that he should have kept his mouth shut too late, and his eyes go wide as Meg narrows her own gaze at him, her eyes darkening like stormclouds.

“You think I actually expected any of this crap to happen?” She raises an eyebrow as though the very idea is laughable. “I’m a self-diagnosed high-functioning sociopath who proudly admits to an obsession with making things that can cause serious bodily harm, not crazy. All that partying with Numbnuts must’ve killed more of your neurons than I thought, Barbell.” Naturally, this assertion does nothing to put anyone at ease, and you’re pretty sure that you saw Sam lean away from the blonde as surreptitiously as she could.

“Yeah, so…” Alex rubs the back of his neck. “Why not someone else here?”

“Alex!” Charlie’s face is in a grimace as he snarls at his friend. “You’re actually going with this?”

“Sorry bro, but I’d like to survive, and I don’t see that happening if I piss off the bombshell who might be able to make actual bombshells.” He shivers.

“For fuck’s sake…” Charlie growls.

“Moving on. Sugar-tits over there I don’t know enough about.” You think you actually see Meg eyeing Heather without an ounce of subtlety, and the brunette shifts a little, obviously feeling similarly. “I mean, I like what I see, but I can’t say that’s enough reason to let her give orders. For all I know, she’d make us carry sixteen suitcases filled with lingerie.”

“I don’t even have that much.” Heather’s voice is soft, but audible. “Is that what people really….”

“Barbell over there might be decent at it. Maybe.” Meg’s expression shows she doesn’t really believe that. “But like Sugar, I don’t know enough about him to trust him with command.” Alex visibly shrugs.

“I’m cool with not being in charge of making the life-or-**** decisions.” He sounds a little more sure this time.

“Numbnuts over there blew any confidence I might have developed eventually with his obvious plans to get some ass rather than do anything actually useful.” Charlie’s eyes narrow and he appears to be preparing a response, but Meg interrupts before it can even start. “Plus I don’t feel like being eyed up as a tool for him to get his dick wet. Some chicks might be into that, but I’m not looking for that kind of arrangement.” She turns to Sam. “And Red, I’m sorry, but I don’t know anything about you. I’m about 90% sure you’re a total sub, but that’s not really relevant unless you think that being submissive in bed is indicative of submissiveness in normal life, and I haven’t figured out the correlation-connection accuracy there yet.” Your girlfriend looks a little like she swallowed a lemon, but doesn’t say anything.

“Thus,” Meg continues, “by process of elimination, the best candidate for bosshood is Buttercup. Not least because he actually has a plan and seems able to communicate with people without making obvious come-ons.” She returns her other hand to Trusty, hefting it. “And if further reason is needed, I say it’s a good idea and I have a gun.” You would think she’d pump the action for emphasis, but instead she lets the room fall into silence, broken only by the breaths of the six of you and the sound of her chewing. Finally, Alex speaks up.

“I mean, even without the gun thing I’m sold.”

“While I think the reasoning is… questionable…” Sam bounces on her heels as she speaks, nibbling her lip and gazing at the floor with a thoughtful expression, “I don’t disagree with the conclusion.” She looks at you, her brow furrowed. “But only if you’re okay with it, Michael.”

Charlie is scowling.

“Whatever. I think I’d be a badass survival leader, and none of you assholes is gonna convince me otherwise.”

Heather doesn’t say anything, but nods vaguely before retreating back into her own thoughts.

“Alright then!” Meg nods, looking back to you. “So are they part of the plan, or….” She raises her eyebrows in what she apparently thinks is a subtle gesture.

“We….” You pause, slightly overwhelmed by the fact that you’re being trusted with the lives of five people (or in some cases tolerated) “We’ll assume the answer is yes until proven otherwise.” The vagueness of your conversation leaves Heather and Alex with curious expressions, but Sam’s lips are drawn into a thin line as she understands the implications. There might not be enough room for all of you when Bella arrives with the rescue.

“We should probably get back to what I was focusing on.” She looks you in the eye, her face still tight and her muscles tense. “I had enough supplies before, but that was for two people, maybe three if we stretched it. Six are going to need more than I had gotten together. A lot more. With more people working to get it together there’s a good chance we’ll find enough, but we’re still on a timeline, since….” She trails off, but you know what she was about to say. “Since it’s probably not going to be safe to stay here for too long.”

“So, what are we looking for then?” Alex looks about as lost as you would be in his place, and for a moment you re-examine the risks of the three newcomers knowing about the rescue. The thought doesn’t last long, and you refocus.

“Things that won’t easily go bad. Essentials. Water, non-perishables, maybe energy drinks and things like that.” You sigh. “Shit, I dunno. We need at least enough to get through the night.” You look at Meg. “Can you pick locks?”

“Maybe.” She shrugs. “Never tried, really. Most of the time the door’s open or I just kick it in.”

“The landlord’s apartment on the top floor is locked. The fire escape door is also locked. The landlord might have had something we can use, and the fire escape is obvious.”

“So break and enter to snoop on one and open up a potential escape route for the other. Got it.” She nods before walking past you. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Take these.” You reach into your blazer, handing her the lockpicks. “Might be easier.” She raises an eyebrow at you as the bubble she’s blowing deflates, but continues away without further comment.

“Sam, Heather, can you focus on searching the other apartments?” The redhead nods with a smile. The brunette shrugs.

“On it, captain.” Leaning up to give you a peck on the lips, your girlfriend winks before going. Heather is slower to move.

“This….” Her voice is rough and no louder than a whisper. “I guess this is all we can do, huh? Live day by day and hope we don’t die?” She looks up at you, and you’re not sure whether she wants confirmation or an assurance that things aren’t as bad as they seem.

“For now, I guess. Hopefully we’ll… find someplace safe, or maybe there will be other survivors.” She doesn’t seem much reassured, but she nods.

“T-Thank you, Michael.”

“For what?”

“For trying.” She wraps her arms around herself, looking smaller than you’ve ever seen her. “For not giving up or pretending.” She shrugs.

“I haven’t done much.” Her shift in mood leaves you uncertain, and you honestly don’t understand what you’ve done that she’s thanking you for.

“You’ve done something, though.” She gives you a fragile smile. “And it’s more than pretending like nothing’s changed.” She touches your arm fleetingly before leaving, and you can just feel the foul mood Charlie’s been accumulating.

Turning to your asshole of a roommate, you notice that Alex is standing off to the side, as though waiting to see which of you holds up better.

“Okay, what the hell, roomie!” Charlie stalks over to you, his lips twisted and his eyes narrowed. His face is a few shades short of being red, and his hands are balled into fists.

“What, Charlie?” You’re honestly surprised by how calm you feel. You’ve never actually been the target of your roommate’s ire before, and you can see why people stay clear of him when he gets like this. But somehow it doesn’t impact you. Whether it’s a stronger sense of how small the gap between the two of you actually is, or simple overconfidence born of the support you were shown mere moments ago, he doesn’t frighten you.

“That!” He waves his arm in the direction Heather and Sam left. “I mean, Red’s fair game, sure, and I don’t even really blame you -”

“She is a fine piece of ass, that’s for sure.” Alex nods with what he probably thinks is an air of wisdom. “Solid 8, at least. Of course, the blondie’s a 9 or 10 for sure, but I can’t blame you either.” He pauses. “Though I’ve always had a thing for crazy chicks.”

“Fuck off, Alex!” Charlie’s voice comes out with a dangerous rumble, his teeth bared in a snarl, but he’s still facing you. “But that? You stole my girl, asshole!”

“And how is that?” You cross your arms, raising your eyebrows. “As far as I saw, she was dropping you anyway, and I’m not pursuing her.”

“Oh, and that ‘thank you, Michael, you’re so wonderful Michael’ shit was just friendly?”

“On my end, yeah.” You sigh. “Charlie, this isn’t getting us anywhere.”

“Not- oh, no, ohoho, you’re not getting out of this that easy, roomie.” He does his best to use the inches he has on you to loom, but it really comes across as him trying too hard. “You think this is over? Fuck no!” He leans in, and you fight the urge to cringe as you feel his breath. “You steal my girl, asshole, and I’ll find a way to return the favor. You hear? I’ll -” His threat is interrupted by Alex’s hand falling on his shoulder. Looking over, he frowns at his black-haired friend. “The hell is it, Alex?”

“Not cool, dude.” Alex shakes his head slowly. Somberly. His eyes are closed and his voice is serious. “I’m down for a lot of stuff, bro. There was that time brought cameras to that party and then got everyone to agree to the wet t-shirt contest, that whole thing with the spiked punch at that other one, and of course I was cool with the occasional panty-swipe, ‘cause that’s all just good fun, y’know?” You think Alex has a very skewed idea of ‘good fun.’ “I’m even cool with helping you get that special lube, right, ‘cause I know you’re usin’ it right.” He leans in. “But that, dude? I might use a lot of pick-up lines, dude, but I know two things: one is that no doesn’t mean ‘maybe.’ Harry was wrong about that and I gotta say I didn’t really feel bad when he got picked up by the cops for harassment. The other is that chasing another man’s girl is a breach of the sacred trust of guyhood. You were basically saying you’d do both, bro.” He shakes his head again. “Not. Cool.” He turns to you. “I’ll make sure nothing sketchy happens. We cool, Rockwall?”

“Rockwall?” Is he comparing you to something?

“You didn’t even flinch, bro.” The expression on Alex’s face seems to be one of respect. “You got the burn-face and you didn’t even twitch. You were solid as a rock, man.”

“Oh.” He’s complimenting you. That’s… nice? “Right. Yeah. We’re cool, I guess.”

“Cool.” Alex tightens his grip on Charlie’s shoulder. “C’mon, bro. I get the feeling we’re on water duty.”

“Alex, what the fuck? You’re just going along with this?” Your roommate looks outright scandalized.

“I’m not messing with a guy who can take your burn-face without a single twitch, bro. Plus he’s got the gun-chick on his side. I’d rather not be on the wrong end of a Weapon of Genital Destruction, you get me?” You hear them bickering (or rather, Charlie bickering and Alex responding surprisingly calmly) as they walk away, and you’re left in the entry hall. Sighing, you take the chair you had moved and place it back against the door.

You have five people who are basically working for you, one of whom kind of (definitely) hates your guts, you’re stuck here until tomorrow, and now you’ve got no idea what you need to do.

You really hope Bella shows up, because this leader thing is not easy to get used to.