No, I bloody won’t.But I hold my tongue, just grateful she’s not arguing for once.
Then she steps back, scrutinizing me from top to bottom, a worrying smile creeping across her lips. “You look like a stuffed piñata about to burst,” she says, erupting into laughter.
Her words hit me like a slap. My body tenses, bracing for more.What a bitch!I glare at Carmen, seeing she’s still wearing the same worn, bargain-bin military camouflage outfit.
“Yeah? Better than dressing like a drug cartel guerilla reject,” I snap back, savoring the brief flicker of offense that wipes the smirk from her face, hurting her the way she hurts me, so she knows I’m no one’s victim.
Carmen bristles, almost shaking, “Hey,chica, I fought against the cartels!” She reminds me, not for the first time.
I couldn’t care less who fought who and why. Only the future matters—my future.
“Didn’t they leave you any clothes?” I ask, suddenly curious, wondering if she was given the same ridiculous gnomish outfit, or is what I’m wearing another practical joke from Dracoth.
“Sí, they did,” Carmen replies, glancing at the door, “Butjoder, I’m not forgetting where I came from—or where I’m going,” she says through clenched teeth, her sudden intensity surprising me.
Straight to the morgue if she keeps this madness up.
I glance at her, wondering if there’s any point in trying to talk sense into the stubborn woman. It seems to achieve nothing other than an earful of abuse. But I always find myself trying, regardless.
“Maybe where we’re going isn’t so bad,” I gesture to encompass the room, almost choking at the absurdity of highlighting these sparse uninspiring quarters as a reason to be hopeful, but it sure as hell beats the cell. “I mean, things are getting better for us.”
“Princesa...” Carmen grimaces, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You’re smarter than this,chica.” She holds out a hand, almost pleading for me to understand.
Idounderstand. The problem is, she doesn’t. She’s making a huge mistake.
Before I can exhale and resign myself to the same old argument, the door slides open with a smooth swoosh. Sandra bursts in, her broad smile drawing our attention. She’s still dressed in the clothes Dracoth gave her. I can’t help but feel irked, noticing the colors are less garish, and the gray-furred shoulders add a nice touch. She’s dressed like the head gnome and we’re her little gnome minions.
“Hey, we found a massive shower room!” Sandra announces in a rush, glancing between Carmen and me. “Well, actually Kazumi found it, but I wanted to let you two know.”
“A shower?” I repeat the words like sweet music to my ears. “Oh, thank God!” I’d prefer a bath—a massive, scalding-hot tubfilled with bath bombs... ah, if only. But I’ll settle for a shower, knowing I probably smell like Michael’s dirty socks at this point—those weapons of mass destruction could strip paint, melt steel, and actually improve Sarah’s unfortunate face.
I turn to Carmen, my joy almost contagious. “See? Things are looking up.” Although she doesn’t appear especially excited or impressed. Still, she follows us out of the room without further argument.
“Oh!” I exclaim, breath catching in my throat as my eyes sweep upward over the towering figure of a mini-Dracoth standing like a statue. This one has red hair, longer than Dracoth’s, and expressionless yellow eyes that seem to glow in the dim light. Despite the frightening, ashen-colored armor encasing him, he looks young—barely older than an adolescent.
“Hello,” I mutter, still a bit flummoxed. “What’s your name?” I press, trying for a smile, but it dies on my lips as the red-haired guard only regards me with a blank expression that sends chills down my spine.
“Pendejo. That’s their name,” Carmen sneers in response. My chest tightens, worried the guard will retaliate, but nothing. He just watches, not a flicker of annoyance or... well, anything. “See? They just follow me, staring like adegenerado. It’s driving me,loca!”
I can’t deny they are very unsettling, but maybe if she stopped attacking everyone, they’d stop stalking her?I bite back the thought, not ready for another argument—not when there’s a shower to get to.
“You could try being a bit nicer to them, Carmen,” Sandra chimes in, right on cue, forcing me to suppress a groan of exasperation at the coming pointless debate.
We continue down the familiar corridors, with the red-haired mini-Dracoth trailing behind us like the universe’s creepiest and most dangerous chaperone. I wrinkle my nose at the state ofthe place—dust everywhere, chipped marble, and open panels that look like they’re held together by sheer will. The entire ship could use a thorough cleaning—or better yet, a complete renovation. I can almost picture it with nice, pastel-colored walls and softer, warmer lighting... Ah, that would be nice...
“Nice?” Carmen snaps, bristling beside me, yanking me from my pleasant daydream, worried she’s somehow read my thoughts. “Nice, to thependejoswho abducted us?” Carmen rounds on Sandra, looking her up and down like she’s dog poop on her shoe. “Oh yeah, you bend over like a goodputafor them.”
Here we go.
I inhale sharply, as Sandra recoils as if struck, her mouth working soundlessly. It’s not surprising. Carmen is kind of intense and Sandra’s playing the whole good-girl role. Thank God though—the last thing we need is a stupid catfight.
Then, to my astonishment, Sandra’s eyes flash with something I haven’t seen from her before—rage.
“Fuck you, Carmen!” Sandra roars, surprising everyone, probably herself most of all, judging by her shaking fists and trembling lips. Yet, her blue eyes are locked onto Carmen like sharpened sapphires. “I’m not bending over for anyone! And I’m not taking your hateful crap anymore.”
Carmen wastes no time clenching her fists, squaring up to Sandra. Classic Carmen—resorting to violence when a choice word might solve the situation. The pair glare at each other and I’m surprised Sandra doesn’t back down.
I’ve been on the receiving end of Carmen’s threats before and I know how hard it is to not balk. The Sandra who first arrived on this ship wouldn’t dare fight back, but she’s changed somehow. Is this because of her talk with Dracoth? If so, it doesn’t bode well for me.
