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Every day, more rainbows.
For the most part, Janine didn’t mind. Pride month was upon them, and showing their colors was a (mostly) innocuous way for the runners to blow off some steam.
It had started when Runner Four picked up a face painting kit on a routine supply run. The next day half the runners were sporting pride colors – a full rainbow, shades of pink and orange, pink-purple-blue that faded together in an ombre, pink-yellow-blue that stood out more readily, black and grey and purple, a similar flag with yellow instead of grey, pastel blue and pink. Frankly, she’d enjoyed the display over breakfast the next morning. The camaraderie and acceptance had been refreshing; after all, life in the apocalypse was hard enough without having to hide part of yourself. It had been a display of exactly what the month was meant for: pride.
Things had only escalated from there.
The extra face paint had been repurposed to decorate doors in the runners’ quarters. Then little flags had begun appearing on reports. This was irritating, but not fatal; Janine didn’t like official documentation being anything less than pristine, but it wasn’t a battle she was willing to fight.
Runner Three had found a tie-dye kit the next week. That was when all hell had broken loose.
T-shirts, bedsheets, towels, underthings if you left them where you friends could snatch them – anything dyeable began sporting pride colors. Fabric was draped over windows like flags; one had even made its way over the comms shack, fluttering in the breeze for all to see.
Then it was food coloring at every meal. Then paint on the outside of buildings. Then fabric dye in a certain runner’s hair (Runner Eleven would likely sport pink, purple, and blue for months, and Runner One’s hands were sure to be stained for even longer).
Again, it was all harmless enough that Janine let it slide. She had bigger things to think about than runners staining themselves with bright colors. Even the redecoration of her buildings she could let go, provided she breathed through the frustration of things being not quite uniform. She’d accepted a long time ago that if a specific runner dorm were to exist, then she would have no control over its state.
This morning’s surprise, however, had been too far.
Janine stood, drumming her fingers on her desk as she looked over the suspects she’d rounded up.
Runners Three and Five leaned against the bookshelf with their arms crossed. When hijinks occurred, it was usually a safe bet they were involved.
Runners One and Eleven were seated in the chairs opposite her desk, glancing back and forth, while Runner Thirteen leaned on One’s chair and rolled her eyes. The two involved in the hair color fiasco were far more likely to blame than Ms. Wood, but she spent enough time with them that her presence was necessary.
Mr. Holden and Mr. Woods were in the corner, arguing in hushed voices. No, they weren’t technically runners, but they were co-conspirators often enough.
Then there was Mr. Yao, just inside the door, eyes darting all over the room like he couldn’t quite figure out what to do.
“Well,” Janine said finally, “Is no one going to own up to this incident?”
“Jenny, you haven’t even told us what happened,” Three said.
“That’s because one of you knows full well why you are all here,” she replied.
“We have an alibi!” Jack exclaimed. Eugene smacked his arm.
Janine raised an eyebrow. “I’ve not yet told you when the incident occurred, Mr. Holden, how on earth can you know you have an alibi? Unless, of course, you know exactly when the incident occurred, because you were the one who did it.”
Jack started to respond, but Eugene slapped a hand over his mouth.
“We have no idea what you’re talking about, Janine.”
“Perhaps not. Mr. Yao?”
The boy’s eyes went wide. “Don’t look at me!” he yelped, glancing over to Five like she could save him.
“Janine, you know you pulled me off of a hospital shift for this?” Five asked. “Can you please just tell us what’s going on so we can get to the bottom of it and go back to our lives?”
“I’m not sure I can, Runner Five,” she replied. “But perhaps you’d like to enlighten everyone else.”
Five stared back at her, blank-faced. The runner had a damn good poker face, that was for sure. No wonder she and Sara worked so well together.
“We were in the middle of a workout when you called us,” Runner Eleven said. “I was practicing my ninja kicks. SO helpful against zombies. You’re taking away valuable training time.”
“Seriously, Janine,” Runner Thirteen cut in, “If these two did something stupid again, just tell us, and I’ll knock their heads together later.”
Janine was losing her patience.
“I’m afraid that won’t cut it, Ms. Wood,” she replied. “Listen, all of you, I have been patient with your antics thus far. I allowed you to modify your official Abel Runner t-shirts. I did not complain when official paperwork was degraded. I’ve even held my tongue about the veritable graffiti on my property. But I will not stand for what I found this morning. So I will ask you again: is no one going to own up to this incident?”
Everyone was silent for a moment. Then, Runner One leaned in conspiratorially.
“You know, I did see Five and Sam sneaking around last night.”
The runner and the operator loudly protested.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Five said. “What do you mean ‘sneaking around?’”
“Really,” Sam said, his ears bright pink, “what could we possibly have been up to?”
“I can think of a few things,” Simon muttered, before Five elbowed him in the stomach so hard he heaved.
“If you must know, we were going to get something to eat,” Five said. “I didn’t get my usual rations after my run yesterday, and Sam yelled at me and dragged me to the mess hall.”
“Jenny, don’t you have cameras all over this place?” Simon asked. “Couldn’t you just check those to see whoever did whatever it is you’re so upset about?”
“No, Simon, I cannot check the cameras, because the incident occurred in a camera dead zone. Whoever is responsible for this incident surely knew that. Which is precisely why you’re here, Mr. Yao.”
Sam threw up his hands in frustration. “I still don’t know what you’re talking about, Janine!”
“Can we please hurry this along?” Eugene asked. “We have a show to do in ten minutes –”
“Then I suggest one of you speak up so we can put this incident to bed.”
Things were quiet again for a moment, then Five groaned loudly.
“Janine, honestly, this is a waste of time. Whoever perpetrated this grave crime against humanity either isn’t in this room or isn’t going to speak up, so if you’ll just tell us what harmless prank you’re harping on about –”
“Harmless prank?” Janine demanded. “Harmless prank??”
She reached under her desk, grabbed her feathered companion with both hands, and set it down in front of everyone.
“You dyed a chicken!”
Silence again, but this time the stunned kind. Finally, Five cleared her throat.
“Is that…is that the chicken I found at the Rofflenet station and named after you?”
Janine narrowed her eyes. “I think you know damn well it is.”
Simon stifled a laugh. “Uh, Jenny? I don’t think I see why you’re so upset.”
“Are the colors wrong?” Five asked. “Because technically there’s no way to know which colors to use for a chicken with your name.”
“My personal life is none of your business, Runner Five,” Janine snapped. “And the specific colors are beside the point.”
“This is what you’re so upset about, though?” Jack said. “A rainbow chicken?”
“Seriously,” Sam agreed, “I think it’s fun.”
Janine pinched the bridge of her nose. “Fun, Mr. Yao? You think coloring the feathers of a chicken is fun?”
“Well, I –”
“You could’ve done serious harm to this bird!” she continued. “You interfered with a source of food!”
“Oh please,” Five said, “Those are plant-based dyes, totally harmless.”
“Is that an admission of guilt, Runner Five?”
She rolled her eyes. “No, I just recognize the lower saturation from the dyes my family used to color Easter eggs when I was a kid.”
“So no one is willing to admit they are responsible for this?”
The eight suspects muttered to themselves, glancing at each other.
Janine shut her eyes, hoping to stave off the headache she could feel approaching.
“Fine. Fine. Get out, all of you. And please, make it clear to all of your friends that the rainbow graffiti stops here. Next time, there will be serious consequences.”
Everyone scurried out of the room, all except Five, who turned back before going through the doorway.
“Hey, Janine?” she said.
“What, Runner Five?”
“The chicken shit on your desk. Not rainbow. Which is a shame.”
Janine exhaled sharply. “Get out, Runner Five.”
With everyone gone, Janine collapsed into her chair and shook her head.
“Oh, Janine Chicken,” she said, “Whatever are we going to do with you?”