[Win – 12:50 p.m.]
The rooftop's noisy now.
Jack's humming show tunes while cleaning bandages.
FahFah's braiding zip ties into her ponytail.
Namtan is literally trying to make zombie-proof earrings.
But Palm?
Palm is in full forge mode.
[12:52 p.m.]
He drags the leftover pile of music junk into the center.
"What are you doing?"
FahFah asks.
He grins.
"Making you not die."
Within minutes, he's grinding strings into guitar necks, snapping cymbals for edgework, tying mic cords into leather-wrapped grips.
Emily kneels beside him.
"You've done this before?"
"Sort of,"
he replies.
"But my old creations didn't need to pierce through brainstems."
[12:58 p.m.]
One by one, Palm hands them weapons:
A spiked trumpet staff for Best
A drumstick whip for Namtan
A sharp-edged violin bow knife for FahFah
A clarinet-dagger combo for Jack
Emily politely asks for just a sharpened pipe. Palm makes it.
Then he turns to Dean.
"You want something light? Quick?"
Dean doesn't even look at the pile.
"No."
Palm frowns.
"Come on, even a wire blade? You're tiny."
Dean finally glances up.
And says, too softly,
"I don't need tools to hurt people."
[1:00 p.m.]
Everyone quiets.
Palm pretends to not hear it.
Win doesn't.
I stare at Dean, unsettled.
"You're too brutal for a kid,"
I mutter.
Dean shrugs.
"You're too soft for someone trying to live."
The wind picks up again.
But it doesn't cool anything down.
[1:04 p.m.]
Later, while Palm's fiddling with wire coils, Best sits next to me again.
Jack, Namtan, and FahFah are napping or fiddling with their new weapons.
Best watches Lin sharpening her blade on a broken wall edge.
"She's too strict,"
he says flatly.
"She's careful,"
I say.
"She's dangerous,"
he replies.
"Same with that other one. Kao."
I don't answer.
Best leans forward, serious now.
"I trust you and Palm. You guys feel real. Human."
Then he adds:
"Those two? I don't know. Lin looks ready to execute anyone who sneezes. And Kao... doesn't even breathe."
I finally speak.
"She's saved us more times than I can count."
"Yeah,"
he says.
"But what happens when she doesn't?"
[1:07 p.m.]
Palm tosses me a blade wrapped in leather grip.
"New for you. This one has stronger base."
I catch it, nod.
Lin walks past us, glancing at the group.
She doesn't say anything.
But she heard.
I know she heard.
She sits near the far corner, alone, wrapping her arm again.
Kao's still cleaning her blade, barely blinking, as if the conversation meant nothing.
But I see it.
Her grip tightens on the cloth just a little too long.
[1:10 p.m.]
Palm finally stands, satisfied.
"We're armed. We're alive."
Jack cheers, twirling his clarinet dagger.
FahFah mock-salutes him.
But something's changing.
This rooftop isn't just a shelter now.
It's a fuse.
And we're all holding matches.
___________________________