Thatas's a great way to get killed. We canas't fight a city of vampires, even in the daylight,as Alex said.
But we have to find out what happened,as she protested.
We may never know what happened,as Alex charged. as The only thing we can do is survive.
Ginger threw the corded plastic microphone down on the countertop so hard that it bounced and struck a reel of lottery tickets. She stormed away to the back of the store.
Alex moved to follow her, but I caught his sleeve. as Give her some time,as I said, as soothingly as I could.
He grunted and went back to rummaging through the medicines.
I gravitated toward a strange contraption in the corner. It stood on four legs, and had a glass tabletop with colored bits of enamel and springs inside.
Itas's a pinball machine,as Alex said.
I blinked. as It makes . . . pinballs?
No. Itas's a game. You put in a quarter.as He pointed to the slot. as A ball gets loaded here.as He gestured to a rod with a spring wrapped around it and pulled. It made a startlingly loud noise in the silence.
I jumped back, and he chuckled. as Itas's a lot more fun when the poweras's on. The ball hits the bells, and it lights up. You score points based on how long the ballas's in play.
I leaned curiously over the glass. as Interesting.as I met his eyes. as You actually pay money for this?
Remind me to show you Pac-Man sometime.
I frowned. as We play checkers or chess back home . . .as My voice trailed off. as Or, we did.
Alex squeezed my shoulder. as Maybe we can find a chess set somewhere along the way.
Thereas's water!as Ginger exclaimed.
I turned, clutching my apron full of goodies. Ginger had emerged from a hallway marked SHOWERS. Her hair was wet, and she held a bottle of shampoo. She looked overjoyed.
Itas's working?as Alexas's face split into a grin. He let out a spontaneous whoop and tore off his jacket.
Yes! I donas't know if itas's still whatas's left in the pipes, but thereas's water. And itas's even kind of warm.
I scurried down the tiled hallway. Ginger had started a fire in a wastebasket, and the flames illuminated a bathroom. Lockers stood on the left side, sinks on the right. And beyond them, shower stalls. I wrapped my apron up, kicked off my shoes. I peeled off my dress, mindful to keep track of the pins that fastened it together, threw my bonnet and the rest of my clothes in a pile, and skidded into the nearest stall.
I turned the handle and held my breath.
A blessed stream of lukewarm water flowed out and over my head. I scrubbed it through my hair and over my face. I felt filthy. Not just from the grime of the journey. From the evil and destruction. From hopelessness. It clung to me like a corrosive film. I could feel evil creeping into my pores, feel my morality slipping down the drain. Each day, I was slipping further and further away from my faith. I had begun to demand things of God. I had surrendered to fear and doubt.
I choked back a sob. I felt that I was falling. Failing. I squeezed my eyes shut. I couldnas't tell if there were tears on my face or just the warm water.
The sweet smell of violets assaulted my nose. I took a deep breath, savoring that innocent scent.
I felt hands in my hair, the soft lather of shampoo. Startled, I twisted back to find that Alex was massaging my scalp.
Naked.
I felt a flush crawling over my cheeks. as I . . .
It wasnas't as if I hadnas't seen him in the nude before. Ias'd given myself to him back home. I knew that it had been wrong, violated every rule Ias'd been taught. But I cared for him. Not in a romantic, head-over-heels kind of passionate longing Ias'd seen glorified in the English magazines. Instead, I felt a deep steadiness when we were together, a quiet reservoir of strength. It made me wonder whether there were different kinds of love, for different kinds of people.
But it was still new, and I was still shy. My hands curled over my chest to cover myself, but my eyes roved over the water sluicing down his shoulders. The scarred ankh on his heart contrasted sharply with his fair skin, and I could see the black Djed pillar creeping up his neck in ink.
I donas't know that I could say that we were as in loveas the way that they talk about in books. But it was the end of the world. as I thought youas'd like this.as He held up a bottle of scented shampoo. Water dripped down his chiseled chin and he grinned sheepishly. as It says itas's as˜violet wisteria water blossom, with ylang ylang.as' I donas't know what that is, but it sounded girly, eh?
Whereas's Ginger?as I managed to croak.
He jabbed a thumb behind him. as Sheas's out there, playing with a musical toothbrush.
I could hear tinny jingling and happy chortling behind the trickle of water.
He tenderly wiped a glob of soap from my eye. as I . . .
The water suddenly dropped in temperature, and I squealed. I thrust my soapy head under the cold water to finish rinsing off, then stepped back for Alex to do the same.
I beat a hasty retreat to the room with the wall-mounted hair dryers. Ginger was wrapped in a towel, bobbing her head along in time to her musical toothbrush.
I snatched up a towel from a pile in the corner and began to dry myself off. Ias'd gotten myself pinned back in my dress by the time Ginger had made herself decent. I looked down at my apron full of food and set about tying the corners together. Ginger didnas't mention the flush that still clung to my face, but I could feel the heat.
And that couldnas't be good. Not for me, and certainly not for the fragile state of my faith.
***
Weas'd scavenged through the convenience store in less than an hour, stuffing everything we could carry into plastic grocery bags and some mildewy-smelling laundry bags that weas'd found in the shower area. Weas'd come away with some good first-aid supplies, some food, fresh water, and some lighters. Those would be helpfulas"though I could start a fire without one, it was time-consuming and very dependent upon the weather. Ias'd also found a small collection of brooms and mops that would make good stakes. And weas'd found maps. Those were the most valuable things.
My heart soared a bit at our good fortune, and I set about tying the bags to Horaceas's tack. He pressed his head into my chest and I rubbed his forelock.
I promise not to leave you behind,as I murmured.
He seemed nervous, pawing and fussing at the packs Ias'd tied to him. I took this to mean that he wasnas't used to being used as a pack mule. But I was still eager to move on.
I glanced at the city skyline on the horizon, and longing welled up within me. I had always wanted to see the city someday, but it seemed that as somedayas would never come. Not that my faith needed any more tempting.