She saw the truth click into place on Belinda’s face.
“Oh my God, Lucy. Oh, baby. Oh no. What happened to you?” Belinda said.
Lucy wanted to tell her no, this was only a disguise, that she wasn’t this low, this dirty, this driven to the edge, but as soon as she thought it she started to cry. She was all those things, only in a disguise. She told Belinda everything. She told her about the baby, about starving, about living in hiding, about the feeling that the world was collapsing in all around her.
Belinda rubbed her back as Lucy spilled her feelings. Belinda bit her lip. She told her all the nice girlfriend things that she was supposed to say: that this would be okay, that this was probably meant to be, that she’d only grow stronger from it, and that Lucy was too nice a person for this to be the end of her story. All that stuff.
“I feel so much better just knowing I have you in my life again,” Lucy said.
A yelp escaped before Belinda could cover her mouth with her hand.
“What? What is it, Bel?”
Belinda shook her head and stomped her foot.
“It’s not fair. I’d change it if I could.”
“Change what?”
“I’m graduating today.”
Lucy felt like she was seeing life through a pinhole camera. Belinda’s voice became softer and softer. Her words had less impact, they were temporary distractions from the truth of how alone Lucy was. When the two of them parted, it was with forced casualness, because the real feelings were too tough. Belinda gave Lucy what food she could get from the library and some valuable items she had in her locker. Then, she hugged Lucy good-bye like it wasn’t a big deal. Neither of them could handle how big a deal it really was.
“Everything will be okay, Lucy. I won’t abandon you. I’ll get help.”
Lucy shook her head as Belinda walked away. Don’t say that. That was what Will said. That was exactly what Will had said. And he never came. Lucy became certain, as Belinda walked away, that she would do the same. Lucy wandered the halls in a daze, holding her belly, and telling herself that she would get through this, and maybe she would graduate before she gave birth, like Maxine, and then maybe the baby wouldn’t die when it breathed its first breath of infected air. If she made it out, there could be a happy life for her out there, as a mother. Maybe with Will.
Before she knew it she’d come to a trashed stairwell in the ruins. The destruction and decay matched her mood. The walls were in terrible shape, full of cracks and holes. The first three stairs down from the landing were intact, but beyond that, they were gone. She stood at the edge of the landing and stared down. Fifteen feet below her was an uneven floor full of trash and beer cans. It reminded her of the remnants of a homeless man’s bender that she had discovered once with her cousin. She’d found it gross and scary to look at back then, to imagine how sad the man must have been to spend the nights alone, drinking cheap liquor in a moldy heap of a building. Now she understood. She could see herself doing the same. The rest of that man’s life had probably been really sad, but the little booze party he had given himself hadn’t been. She bet it had been the only peace he knew.
Lucy didn’t even realize there was someone behind her. She hadn’t noticed that she’d been followed ever since she walked away from her fatty friend. Stupid bitch. Might as well have been blind on top of being ugly. But Hilary had to give it to her on the disguise. If she hadn’t spied Lucy taking all that crap out of her face, she would have missed this opportunity.
Hilary tightened her grip on the gun and slunk toward Lucy. She stepped softly, making sure to place each foot down where the floor was clean of any debris that might make noise under her shoes. She was only a few feet away now.
She leveled the gun’s barrel at the back of Lucy’s head as she crept. There was only one question on her mind. Should she waste a bullet on Lucy? They were so precious. They were the real source of her power.
Hilary remembered her tooth flushing down the toilet, and her trigger finger twitched. Her perfect tooth. The one that was meant to be in her mouth, that had fit better than this Freak girl’s tooth ever would. Lucy had sent her pretty white tooth on a waterslide into a tank full of shit.
She was so close that the gun nearly tickled by Lucy’s hair.
Hilary’s shoe made the slightest squeak against the floor. Lucy whipped around, and Hilary shoved instead of shot. The shove tipped Lucy over the edge before she could see who’d shoved her. When Lucy realized she was falling, she screamed. She plummeted off the remains of the staircase, and thumped down to the floor below. Hilary peered over the edge and saw Lucy splayed out on the floor, still as a stone.
She had been fantasizing about this. It was why she always kept a pair of pliers in her purse. She still wanted Lucy’s teeth. All of them. She craved them. She wanted to see Lucy walk the school with just pink gums smacking together, dripping with spit. She wouldn’t be able to make F sounds and she’d sound like an idiot. And the best part of all—Lucy would never turn a boy’s head again. Or maybe she would from time to time. But then, she’d smile, and the boys would run away in disgust.
Hilary was kicked out of her fantasy when the most atrocious-looking boy she’d ever seen emerged from the shadows near Lucy. His complexion was bloodless, his cheeks sunken, and he had broad, sharp shoulders. No fat left on his body, just ropes of twitching muscle underneath dry, shrink-wrapped skin. His lip was split, but the wet pink wound wasn’t bleeding, and he didn’t seem to notice. His eyes were cloudy and looked dumb, like farm-animal dumb. His hair was roughly cut off, in uneven lengths, like scissors had been held close to his scalp. In some scabby patches it looked like the hair had been pulled out at the roots. He wore a soiled dress tucked into black jeans that had developed a waxy sheen of burnished filth on the thighs.
The ghoulish boy grabbed Lucy’s ankles and dragged her toward a dark hole in the wall.
No! Hilary thought.
She ran to the nearest intact stairwell, leapt down the stairs, and dashed back to the spot where Lucy had landed. She searched for the pair in a frenzy, and got so angry she nearly emptied her gun into the wall, but it would have done no good. They were gone.
8
WILL SLAMMED THE REAR DOOR OF GONZALO’S custom minivan. The protective, steel blinds that crossed the rear window rattled. There was nothing left to pack. They’d gotten the list of supplies from Sam’s dad that they should look for on the way. They’d said their good-byes to the parents, and Will had a pocket full of good-luck charms after all the hugs and handshakes. A silver dollar. A St. Christopher’s medal. A green rabbit’s foot. An Indian head nickel. So much hope was riding on them, and they were as ready as they’d ever be to head out into the infected zone in search of the cure. Gonzalo had given them his van. He’d said they’d need it if they were going to make it to Minnesota. He wasn’t coming with them. The big guy had departed the day before in a jacked-up pickup truck to continue on his quest.