Apocalypsis 01 - Kahayatle

hut we could see that in the middle of all of them was Trip, carrying someone like a baby.  
    A small person.  
    A girl.
    He brought her into the hut, and laid her down on the floor.   Her face was white.  
    I’d heard that expression before, that someone’s face had gone white, but I’d never actually seen it before.   Now I knew that it was no exaggeration; it was like all her color was totally gone.
    I moved closer because she looked familiar to me.  
    Trip was furious, his face a stone mask of anger.   His jaw was bulging out so far it made his face look deformed.  
    Her facial features clicked in my mind, reminding me of the girl with the baseball bat who’d nearly taken my head off not that long ago.  
    “Celia?” I asked as I moved closer.
    Trip’s head whipped up.   “How do you know my sister?” he demanded, accusatorially.
    My mouth dropped open.   “I … I met her.   Before we came here.   She gave me a map …”
    Her arm, or what was left of it, dropped down and thumped on the wood floor.   A weak moan escaped her lips.
    “Oh, my god,” whisper-shrieked Peter, “they took her arm!”
    Bodo grabbed Peter as he lost consciousness.  
    All I could do was stand there and stare.  
    Celia was lying near death on the floor of this ceremonial hut with only half an arm left on the right side of her body.   It had been taken off at the elbow and the stump was wrapped in scraps of ripped up t-shirt, the end covered in blood.
    ***
    The crying and occasional shrieking of the girls continued, while Bodo and I knelt down next to Coli and tried to help.
    “She’s lost too much blood.   She’s too pale.   I know she’s going into shock, but I don’t know what to do about it!”   Coli was crying, the words tumbling out of her mouth.
    I rubbed her back.   “Just make her comfortable.”   I pulled the cape off my head and rolled it up, putting it under Celia’s head.
    Trip clenched and unclenched his fists, alternately pacing behind us and coming back to stare at his sister who lay unresponsive on the ground.   Every once in a while her eyelids would flutter and she’d mumble something, but then she’d disappear into unconsciousness again.
    “How’d she get here?” I asked Kowi.
    “She got in a boat somewhere, probably back near her parent’s old vacation cabin.   It’s not that far from here.   She must have paddled with one arm.”
    “Was she alone?”
    “Yeah.   And there’s blood in the boat.   I don’t know how long it took her to get here.”
    I looked at the wrapping on her arm.   “Some of that is older blood, I think.”
    “I’m afraid to take it off,” said Coli.   “What if she starts bleeding more?”
    “Just leave it,” I said, putting my hand on Coli’s arm to let her know she wasn’t alone in questioning what was right and what was wrong.
    Peter was sitting off to the side, his legs pulled up to his chest, rocking himself rhythmically while he cried silently.   I saw two of the girls go and sit with him.   Buster laid down as close to him as he could, resting his chin on Peter’s hip.   Peter was oblivious to all of it.
    “We needt to try and talk to her - to see if she can tell us who didt this to her,” said Bodo.
    Coli leaned over and tapped Celia on the cheek gently.   “Celia!   Celia, wake up!   We need to talk to you.”
    Celia’s head moved a little, turning to the side.   Then her eyes opened and she blinked a couple times.   I watched as recognition dawned.  
    “Bryn?”
    “Yeah.   It’s me.   You’re in the Miccosukee camp.   What happened?”
    She turned her head and looked at the others.   “Coli?”
    “Yeah, babe.   It’s me.”
    “Where’s Trip?”
    He came striding over.   “Right here, Cee.   What the hell happened to you … to your arm?”   His voice broke.
    “Kids.   They came to the shop.   They broke in … and smashed all mom’s stuff.”   A tear trickled out of her eye.  
    I felt myself start to cry too.   I knew how much those stupid shell things meant to her.
    “They took me and kept me at this house.   It’s a big one, near the water.   They have lots of kids there - they use them like a … like a … pantry.”   She cried harder.
    “Did she say like a pantry?” whispered Bodo.   “What does dat mean?”
    “Sssh, I don’t know.”   I was afraid I knew exactly what it meant, but I needed to hear her say it.   Maybe it wasn’t as bad as I feared.
    “What