She kept shuffling forward, even though she had no idea what her destination was. From back in the room, she heard the boy call out to her.
“I didn’t tell you my name. They call me Bile.”
She slogged into a sopping wet hall. He shouted one more thing, but it was very quiet because she had already traveled far.
“I’ll always be here for you,” he said.
11
SWEAT POOLED INSIDE DAVID’S MASK. IT splashed up as he jogged down the hall, occasionally wetting his lips. The mask was torturous. It itched anywhere the rubber pressed against his skin. He was dying to dig a finger under the lining and scratch, but that would have been the last thing he ever did.
The virus was everywhere. He was wading through clouds of invisible poison, and he couldn’t help but feel that it had a mind of its own, that it was searching for a loose seam to slither through so it could swim down to the pink flesh of his lungs and feast.
David had a hoodie on under his jacket, and the hood covered his gas mask and his face underneath it fairly well. As long as no one looked too close. But if they did, and they saw his eye patch, he had no idea what would happen. He used to be famous here.
David slowed down because he was getting out of breath. It was just after midnight. He’d been in school for four hours and wasn’t any closer to finding Will. The elevator had been a bust, no trace of Will. David had decided to head to the Stairs next, but he knew the chances of Will being there weren’t great. There was a better chance that he and his brother would end up circling each other through the school until Will blew his lungs out onto his face shield. If he hadn’t already. David shuddered at the thought of Will dying so brutally.
He heard a noise. He stopped.
He felt the floor rumble under his feet. Something was coming his way. Fast. David panicked. He ran to the nearest classroom. Locked. It was too late. In his periphery he saw someone come tearing around the corner. He looked. It wasn’t a someone. It was a wild hog.
The snarling beast with protruding tusks charged him and he froze. Its heavy hooves cracked against the floor. White spit flung from its mouth. The beast bolted right past, and before David could even think to feel glad, seven shirtless Skaters, carrying sharpened broom handles, charged around the corner after the pig. David kept his head down and turned away. He hugged the lockers. They made pig squealing noises as they rushed past, and one of them laughed. When he dared to look up, he saw them disappear around another corner after the animal.
What had happened to this place?
McKinley was not how he remembered it. The building was in worse shape. Holes had been knocked through drywall, and entire sections of wall had been removed. Remaining walls were nearly blacked out with pen and marker graffiti. The floor was so dirty it was beginning to look like asphalt.
People were acting differently as well. They seemed more violent. He had already seen brutal altercations as he had snuck through the halls, hiding in one locker after another, darting from empty classrooms to maintenance closets. Through locker slats and from behind doors, he’d seen McKinley kids robbing each other at knifepoint. He’d watched as one Skater had been surrounded by three Geek girls. They’d told him to strip and give them his clothes or they’d beat him with hammers. He’d seen two Nerds trying to get a rolling book cart, stocked with water bottles, back to the library. A group of Saints had tackled them, repeatedly kicked them in the ribs, and dumped some of the bottles on their heads. The Saints left them on the ground, wet and writhing, and made off with the rest of the bottles. David had seen a frail Geek girl get felt up by Varsity boys as they were emptying her backpack onto the floor. Through all of it, David had stayed hidden and done nothing.
In the past, he would have done something about these situations, not watch them. He’d have intervened. But each time he watched one of these assaults go down, he’d only felt afraid for himself, that they would hear his breathing, that they’d tear his mask off, that he would die, and Will would too. He knew he had reason to be afraid, but David couldn’t shake the feeling that he had changed, that he had lost some part of himself that was right, and true, and brave.
David picked up the pace, and reached the Stairs without any more animal attacks. He stood staring at the doorway of the old Loner base. The door had been removed. He knew there were no Loners inside. He knew that. But he didn’t realize how hard it would be to see his old home abandoned. It hurt nearly as much as seeing his parents’ house overrun with raccoons and squatters, and he’d lived in that place all his life. As he walked into the desolate armory, his mind leapt back to when this bottom landing had been heaped with weapons. He ascended the Stairs where his fellow Loners had once greeted him with smiles, grateful for the safe home and sense of family he’d provided. He was startled by the little moments, the forgettable exchanges, that crackled in his brain—a hidden smile from Dorothy, the twins feeding each other, Will actually reading, Sasha teasing Gonzalo about how she was going to cut his hair in his sleep, and the first time Lucy had laughed at one of David’s jokes.
It almost made David smile.
Then, he saw the lounge wall. Light from the hall spotlighted a slew of profanity about the Loners, written in field paint. The sentiment was signed by Varsity. They’d enjoyed doing this, that much was clear. It made David bristle. He hurried across the empty landing and up the next flight. The Stairs were running out of dark corners where he might find Will, and it was making David anxious. But there was still his room, at the very top.
When David got there, he found his curtain entrance still hanging. He pushed one heavy flap aside, and saw a kid crouched in the corner with his back to David.
“Will?”
The kid turned and jumped to a fighting stance. He had blue hair. A Freak. He had a short two-by-four in his hand, ready to swing. His other hand was deformed, bent and twisted into a claw.
“Mort …,” David said.
Mort dropped the two-by-four and it clattered on the ground. He rushed to David and got his face right up against David’s mask. Mort’s eyes danced around David’s face.
“You’re alive!” Mort laughed high and loud. He did a little jig, hugged David, and wouldn’t let go. “I’m so glad to see you.”
“Okay, okay, Mort, take it easy,” David said, but in truth, all the joy Mort was displaying warmed David. He’d remembered that his gang had loved him, but he’d forgotten how it felt.