The Variables (Virulent Book 3)

Home > Other > The Variables (Virulent Book 3) > Page 12
The Variables (Virulent Book 3) Page 12

by Wescott, Shelbi


  With that strange non-goodbye, Cass spun and exited, shutting the door behind her. He watched the space she had just left for a long time and wondered if she had been a dream, too.

  After a few moments, he reached down and grabbed the Flowers for Evil book and flipped through its pages. It didn’t take him long to realize that the note she had left for him was gone.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Maxine opened the door to their apartment. Blair stood there, her long blonde hair pulled up into a cascading ponytail, her makeup touched up since the meeting a few hours earlier. Her lips were extra glossy—distractingly shiny. In her hands, she held a small wrapped gift, and when she saw Maxine, she waited, staring, until she was offered a chance to come inside.

  “Well. You were serious,” Maxine said. “Come on in. Come in.”

  Lucy and Grant rose as Blair entered. She shifted uncomfortably in the middle of the room and held the present against her stomach.

  “Hey,” Lucy said. She hadn’t talked to Blair since she had brought Frank to her and used him as a bargaining chip to earn some time with Grant. It had been a wasted effort. Blair had tried to kill her. That was the only piece of information that mattered.

  “Hello,” Blair answered formally. She looked back at Maxine. “I brought something for Teddy.”

  “I’ll get him,” Maxine said. She went into the boys’ room and came out holding Teddy’s hand. He looked up at Blair and then scurried behind Maxine, peering out and staring at the present in her hands.

  Blair crouched down to the ground and extended her gift. “This is for you,” she said. “Do you want to open it?”

  Teddy nodded, but he didn’t move.

  “Well, you’ll have to come out from there if you want to see what’s inside,” Blair said and she set the present down between them on the floor like she was training a puppy.

  Lucy wanted to scoop Teddy up and run away. She felt like screaming, “It’s a trap!” But even though everyone else in the room held their collective breaths, Teddy didn’t seem enticed by the package. He clutched Maxine’s hand tighter and ducked away from Blair’s eagerness.

  “Well, then,” Blair announced and she stood up, taking the gift with her. “You’ll just have to open it later.” She cleared her throat and looked between Maxine and Teddy, and then Lucy and Grant. “There will never be a good time to announce this, so...”

  “No,” Maxine interrupted. “You’ll need to leave.”

  “It’s not up for debate,” Blair said coldly.

  Maxine turned to Teddy and kissed him on the head. She directed him back to the room and instructed him to play. When the door was shut, she stalked over to Blair and stood in front of her—although Lucy’s mom was shorter, Blair seemed cowed by her presence.

  “Let’s get one thing clear. Your father killed that boy’s mother. And told my husband that he was our responsibility. So, he’s been my responsibility. When Ethan is out of the hospital, Ethan will continue to care for the child. And there is no way on God’s green earth that you can come in here and take him somewhere else. It’s monumentally unfair.” Maxine crossed her arms and peered upward.

  “Unfair,” Blair repeated. “I can get the guards if this is going to be a problem.”

  “It is a problem,” Maxine said. “That boy does not belong to you.”

  “He doesn’t belong to you either,” Blair snapped with unadulterated petulance.

  Lucy watched the exchange and felt the intensity of her mother’s words. Yet, she knew, and she could see her mother knew it, too, that they were going to lose Teddy. She wanted to run to the door and barricade herself in front of it. How could Blair act like she cared about the boy when she wanted to uproot him again? How much displacement and fear could one little boy handle?

  “He’s scared,” Lucy said from the other side of the room.

  “Lucy, just stop,” her mother replied. Hurt, Lucy sat on the couch and Grant sat by her side. They had known Darla for only two days, and yet they felt her loss deeply in every part of them. Raising Teddy and keeping him safe was a way Lucy knew they could repay their debt to her.

  “Get him. It will be painless, I promise. I’ve already prepared a room for him. He won’t have to share.” Blair added this last piece as if sharing a room with the other King children had been an extreme hardship for the boy.

  “I want to talk to your father,” Maxine demanded.

  “He’s busy with Island prep. The entire Board is meeting right now. But I’m sure your husband can get you some time to discuss this once we’re on Kymberlin,” Blair said and she made a move toward the bedroom door.

  “Don’t you dare,” Maxine snapped.

  “The child is mine. He’s more assuredly not yours. He’s been promised to me.”

  “Like a present?” Maxine was disgusted. “Your daddy doesn’t know what to get you, so he rips apart someone’s family and hands you their child like it fixes something? You are a cold, ruthless woman...”

  “I’m a cold, ruthless woman?” Blair stalked forward tentatively. “Go pop out another baby of your own.” She threw the threat outward and Maxine didn’t flinch. She kept going, “Or...better yet, why don’t you spend some time parenting the children you already have. Is your oldest son speaking yet?”

  “Get out of my house,” Maxine said with a steady voice. She said it with the same cadence as if she requested Blair return a book she had borrowed—forced ambivalence. “You have exactly ten seconds to leave my family alone.”

  “Fine,” Blair said. She flipped her head; her ponytail wagged. “I’ll get the guards. We’ll do this the hard way.” Still holding her wrapped gift, she spun back toward the door and began to rush her way out. Her head was high, but Lucy could tell that Blair had not anticipated a roadblock.

  “No!” Maxine shouted after her. When Blair didn’t stop, she yelled louder. “Don’t you dare bring guards into this. Stop. Now.”

  Blair turned. The package in her hands shook.

  “Get me the boy,” Blair said.

  “Wait,” Maxine replied and she put her hand up. “There are things you should know. He wakes up with nightmares. And we’ve discovered that you can calm him down by singing Bob Denver songs.”

  “I don’t know any—”

  “Learn some,” Maxine said. She narrowed her eyes and put her hands on her hips. “He doesn’t like anything with tomatoes. The boxed lunches with the crackers are his favorite. He’s been sleeping with one of Harper’s dolls and I think you should take it with you...”

  “I have some toys for him,” Blair said, her voice getting weaker.

  “It’s not about toys. It’s about comfort and stability. This boy is fragile and scared...he’s not a damn pet.”

  “I’m not a monster.” Blair’s nostrils flared.

  “No.” Maxine ran her hand through her hair. “But you’re selfish enough to think that you can storm inside someone else’s life and not cause any damage. So,” she continued, “be kind to this child. He deserves every ounce of love you can give him and nothing less.”

  “Mom—” Lucy said again from the corner of the room. Her heart raced and her gut ached. She felt like she was going to throw up.

  Maxine turned and Lucy could see her mother was close to tears. She had a clear tell: she bit the fleshy part of her lower lip. But she would never let Blair see her cry; she would never give Blair the satisfaction of knowing how much it hurt.

  “Lucy,” Maxine said, her voice steady. “Go bring Teddy to me.”

  “Mom,” Lucy breathed.

  “It’s done.”

  Lucy left Grant on the couch and walked into the bedroom where Teddy sat huddled under the covers. Harper giggled from the corner and the twins tossed pillows down off the bunk beds, obliterating targets left below.

  “We’re playing time machine,” Harper said.

  “I’m in the time machine!” Teddy called, his voice muffled from under the bla
nkets.

  “Oh yeah?” Lucy asked and she glanced underneath. Teddy burst out into a laugh and squealed, pulling back down on the covers to bury himself again.

  “You can’t look when I’m in the time machine! You’ll ruin it!”

  She let the blanket fall. “Where are you going?”

  “To the future!” Harper exclaimed.

  Teddy crawled out from underneath. “Okay, I’m here! In the future! What can we do in the future?” he asked. “Fight bad guys?”

  Lucy swooped him up and held him tight. “You should absolutely fight bad guys in the future, little man,” she said. “Hey...come with me for a second, okay?”

  “Okay.” He rested his head on her shoulder.

  She walked back out into the main room. Maxine was waiting by the door. Blair extended her hand.

  “No,” Teddy said. “I don’t want to go.” Instantly he was trembling, and Maxine walked over and reached out to him and he slipped into her arms. She whispered in his ear and smoothed his wild hair. Teddy nodded, but he began to cry. She kept whispering soothing words, staring at Blair as she said them. And Blair looked on. “Okay. Okay,” he said. “Okay.”

  “Brave,” Maxine said audibly. Teddy nodded.

  She let him slide to the floor, and then she handed him Harper’s doll. He clutched it against his chest and stood mournfully in the center of the room.

  Blair reached down and took his hand. He inhaled and jutted his lower lip out. And Blair opened her mouth to say something and then changed her mind. Silently, she led him back out into the hallway, and Maxine shut the door slowly, careful not to let it slam behind them. Leaning against it, she buried her head in her hands and began to cry.

  Unsure of how to respond, Lucy hesitated and then she walked forward. “Mom? Mom?” When Maxine looked up, her eyes were red, and her nose was running.

  “I’m fine,” she said biting her lip. “God, I’m fine. I will be fine. But Teddy? I don’t know. It’s just...” she paused. “Lucy, Grant...just...let it be a lesson. Nothing in Huck’s world belongs to you. Not your possessions, not your home, and certainly not your dignity. Don’t ever let him trick you into thinking it does.”

  With that, she slipped past Lucy, walked into her own room, and slammed the door behind her.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Dean kicked the tire in frustration and let out a string of curse words. The rubber lay flat against the asphalt of Highway 12 and the rim had started to buckle. They had gone as far as they could with the flapping tire, but now the car was entirely out of commission. Cradling his foot and feeling foolish, Dean scanned the landscape. They were in the middle of nowhere, amidst the towering trees of the Clearwater National Forest: no houses, no other vehicles. Without any other options, they would be forced to walk. And they had done enough walking already. Their feet were blistered and sore; Ainsley had swapped shoes, but her heels were still freckled with swollen wounds.

  Without a hot air balloon at their disposal, they had made it out of Portland the next best way: they walked. At first it felt like a futile roundabout journey, and it took them days longer than they had anticipated. Getting across the river was the first challenge. From Portland, they went south, and found an untouched train bridge. Backtracking, they stuck close to the main thoroughfares and realized just how impassable the urban roads could be. Eventually they bypassed the majority of the wreckage, and just past the old Bridge of the Gods on Highway 84, they nabbed their first car. It was an empty mini-van with a full tank, the back seat full of Little League equipment.

  It ran out of gas before they crossed the border into Idaho, but they timed it just right and swapped it for a Cadillac sitting in someone’s driveway. When they went inside to look for the keys, they took the opportunity to raid the pantry as well. They acquired some fleece blankets, and a few new pieces of clothing. If the world outside had not been so empty and bleak, they would have appeared as any ordinary family on a cross-country excursion.

  Their original plan was to cut across the Idaho panhandle and go straight through to Montana. But blockages, floods, and other unforeseen issues stymied their plot; to top it off, road developers had not accommodated their desires, and they found their travel tedious as they twisted through Clearwater on a path to Missoula.

  Darla couldn’t make the car go faster. She could not stop Ainsley’s sulking and Dean’s happy-go-lucky smirk, which he seemed to wear regardless of their situation. She could not navigate them closer to Nebraska, or make their food stretch for longer, or entertain the growing boredom. She could not make them feel the same level of intensity for getting to her son.

  And now the Cadillac had a flat.

  With progress stalled, everyone’s nerves were raw.

  “We’re not going to find another car for miles,” Dean said. “We’re up in the mountains, for Chrissakes.”

  “Days,” Darla said, her arms crossed. “We’re losing days...”

  “We’ll find something,” Ainsley contributed. She had sat down in the middle of the road and spread her legs out in front of her and began to stretch. Then she leaned backward against the road and stared up into the sky. “We’ll keep plugging along. Toward the people who tried to kill us.”

  “You don’t have to come with us,” Darla answered swiftly. Then she rolled her head over to look at Ainsley and dropped her tone, “Seriously.”

  “I don’t. But I’m going to.” Ainsley raised her eyebrows with a taunting flair. Then she mumbled, “It’s not the smartest decision we’ve ever made...but you’re not the only one who lost something, alright? Can you give me a break already?”

  Darla took a step toward Ainsley, who didn’t budge.

  “Can we stop saying that? Losing my wife and my friends was hard enough, that’s true. And I’m sorry about your mom, Ainsley, I am. But this trip is about Teddy. Grant. Nothing more.”

  “Sure,” Ainsley replied with rancor. “Nothing more.”

  “Wait...” Darla stopped mid-sentence and then pointed off into the hills, the rough direction of Nebraska. “You mean Ethan? You’re trekking across the barren landscape of rural America for a boy?” Darla asked.

  Ainsley shut her eyes and drew her mouth tight. She refused to answer as Darla snickered, and then turned back to the car.

  “Come on, Dean. Let’s grab our things. We’re walking.”

  Ainsley sat up in a hurry.

  “That boy is the only friend I have left...in the whole entire world,” she yelled. “Maybe you think that’s stupid, but it’s true.”

  “Don’t you even tell me you were falling in love with him or I’m absolutely leaving you in the wilderness,” Darla shouted back, her head buried in the back seat of the Cadillac as she pulled out their collection of canned food, blankets, and the backpacks they’d nabbed from a school playground in Eastern Oregon before crossing the border. They were children’s bags; small and cartoonish, and they sat high on their backs.

  Darla slipped her slender legs back on to the pavement and crawled her way back out of the car, and she paused to look at Ainsley; scrunch-faced and sober, unmoving.

  “Ainsley,” Darla started. She swept her hair out of her face and then shot a look at Dean, who began putting provisions in the packs. “He was...is...a good kid. I like him, too. But we’re not going back for Ethan. Jesus, you know that, right?”

  “Why do you get to call all the shots?” Ainsley fired back. “Why are your needs the only ones that matter?”

  “Needs? You listen—” Darla started, but Dean cleared his throat in warning. She ignored him. “I’m on a mission and that mission does not involve Ethan King. Not even for a second. And that guy means a lot to me...you hear that, Ainsley? He means a lot to me. But my own kid means more. A helluva lot more. And if you think for one moment that I’d sacrifice saving Teddy for even a second more with Ethan...you’re out of your hormone-addled mind.”

  “Hey. Easy now,” Dean said, playing the diplomat
. “Ethan’s not the bad guy here. You heard that boy talk. He thought the saints would come a’marching in, waving the flag of friendship. I know lots of things about boys, especially boys Ethan’s age, and I’ll tell you what, I bet he’s beating himself up every hour for not being able to stop that massacre.”

  “Sure,” Darla replied. She grabbed the small puppy backpack and slung it over her right shoulder. “I agree with you, Dean. Now let’s start walking.” She started trudging up the road, the luscious green of the forest a pristine backdrop. Dean followed, but then stopped. He looked back at Ainsley and called for her, but she stayed rooted to the road—the twenty-year-old girl acting out by demanding her space at the most inopportune time.

  “What if he needs us?” Ainsley called after them from the ground. She said it fast and flip, not even bothering to move.

  Darla took in a deep breath and started to respond, but then she turned away from Ainsley and kept on walking, keeping her eyes focused on the winding road and the river running parallel to them. A breeze blew through the trees; Darla sent up a silent prayer that an abandoned car would be waiting for them around the next bend: one void of decaying bodies and mechanical problems.

  “I’ll go talk to her,” Dean whispered and he started to walk back, but Darla grabbed his arm.

  “We’re all tired here. She’ll catch up when she wants to.”

  “You’re going to leave her lying there?”

  “Why not? You think a car is going to run her over?” Darla raised her eyebrows and Dean reluctantly acquiesced.

  “It doesn’t feel right just walking on and not at least trying to encourage her to come along,” Dean replied. “I’m the older, wiser voice...”

  Darla snorted. But she remained firm. “Keep walking, Dean. Ainsley’s an adult. We’ll be here when she wants to start acting like one.”

 

‹ Prev