The Dollhouse Asylum

by Mary Gray

  All I can see are the others dropping—like Izzy and Bee. And Ramus. And Tristan. Lance and Gwen. Six deaths are on my hands. He’s killing them and I’m letting it be. I can’t allow this; I need to show him this plan is pointless—that he’ll never be happy even if he gets down to three.

  “And that concludes our date.” Teo jumps to his feet just as my heart lands in my throat. I got so caught up in the fact that he’s getting down to three couples that I didn’t reach for the remote. I make myself follow, grasp for words that float around in my head. I could ask him to kiss me. I could throw my arms around him.

  “It was a morning of bliss,” Teo says as he brushes his lips across my face, my hair. I tense for a millisecond to reach inside his coat when he brushes his lips on my throat. Warmth surges up and down my chest. I like it. My neck actually likes it. I deserve to be flogged and dragged down this hellish street.

  Shaken, I thrust my hand in his coat, but just in time, Teo stoops down to grab the blanket. Setting it in my hands, he says, “Again, thank you, my love, but I fear ostracism is against my ideals. Better for our neighbors to face a death of haste than face the rage of Hades should they try to leave.”

  And then he’s gone, and I’ve failed to get the remote.

  Shaking and angry with myself, I watch the four remaining men stroll to the street after Teo. They do not dawdle, but stride purposefully to their homes. I try to see down the line, watch each of them as they leave, but Abe’s happy gait distracts me. He kisses Eloise’s letter again and again, but he doesn’t dare turn to wave goodbye.

  How will Teo pick which of the remaining couples should stay? Will two of them be the girls who haven’t held the parties in their own homes, or are they destined to failure no matter what they prepare? Or maybe Teo will accept whatever these ladies do, now that he seems to be in a more contented mood.

  I need to speak with Marcus; I need to know what he’s learned about the fence, if it’s possible for us to escape. Because the clock’s ticking and there’s no telling how long Teo will stay content like this.

  18

  Walking toward my red brick house and its pencil-thin trees, I notice my mailbox lid has fallen wide open, so I reach inside. My fingers touch a letter, and when I rip it open, it’s in the same handwriting as the letter from before. This must be Jonas’s writing, because now it states that he will host the next party.

  Part of me is relieved—this gives the remaining couples more time to plan their soirées. But why would Jonas host a party? Maybe it has something to do with what Teo said about Jonas owing him.

  Once inside my house, I’m torn as to what to do. It’s early, not even lunchtime. Yesterday, I might have expected Izzy to pop in with a plan, but there is no Izzy. No one to pop aerials or gush over boys. If I could, I’d go to my room and pull the blankets over my head, but that is not how to “best” Teo. I need to research our escape. Marcus and Cleo may be rustling around in some trees, so I need to find them.

  Whisking through Bee’s house and out the back door, I fly past the backyards—narrowly missing a few of those anthills again—and once I find the spot where I saw Marcus yesterday, behind Cleo’s house, I jump into the trees.

  I round the short and extra-knobby one I found Marc standing near yesterday, but I come up empty. No Marcus. What did I think he was doing? Sitting around here all day hoping to find me? There’s no way I’m going to find him in the trees. I still can’t believe I didn’t grab the remote.

  Picking my way through the spikey trees, I pray the people contaminated with the Living Rot didn’t take Ramus and Bee. I can only imagine what they would do to them with their blood-dripping teeth.

  Running now, I whip past branches and bark and leaves, everything a green and brown blur. A few thorns snag on my skirt like claws on a witch’s bony fingertips, but I keep going, because I must see Ramus and Bee.

  When I reach the fence, though, nothing catches my eye from the other side. The body bags—they’re supposed to be there. I move down the fence line in case I’m not in the same spot, narrow my eyes to slits to peek through the wires. But beyond the fence I only see more woods and trees. Maybe a field after that, but it’s hard to see.

  I’m not seeing dark shadows. No body bags. My heart leaps to my throat; I’m too late.

  As I’m batting away a low tree branch tickling the back of my leg, a low voice makes me stop.

  “You sure know how to make that tree look good,” Marcus says, tromping toward me.

  It has to be the cheesiest pickup line I’ve ever heard, but he’s here. Maybe he was looking for me. I’m lucky it wasn’t Teo or Jonas who found me.

  Five or six seconds too late, I say, “Just one of my many hidden talents.” I don’t have the heart to bring up Ramus and Bee.

  My timing is awful, but Marcus is quick on the uptake. “Like walking quietly in the woods at night?” He ambles closer, the sun skittering through the leaves highlighting the blues in his eyes.

  I scowl. “Whatever. I was wearing the wrong kind of shoes.” Wrong kind of shoes?

  “Ah, yes,” he plants himself in front of me, “tennis shoes are terrible for walking in the woods.”

  I grunt, because there’s nothing brilliant I can say to that, but a slow smile twitches Marc’s upper lip. I’m not sure how, but we’re suddenly inches apart, and I’m not entirely sure who closed the distance. We’re nearly chest to chest, and—

  Dear God, why’s he so shiny? He’s sopping wet.

  “Marc?” I take a step back, because there’s something wrong with him. I am hot, but not enough to get sweaty. The sweat coating his chest makes it look like he’s just stepped out of the shower. His face is dripping wet. This has to be a diabetes thing.

  Marcus doesn’t move. His steaming hand holds onto the small of my back, and I don’t want to spoil this moment, but I know that I should—something’s very wrong. “Marc?” I look into his eyes. “Is your insulin working all right?”

  He shrugs. Lots of shrugging from Marcus—I wonder if that’s something he picked up from all those weekends hanging out with Ramus—that indifferent side. I should tell him about my conversation with Teo and how he’s planning to get down to three couples, but Marc’s talking again and there isn’t time. In the slow, lazy way he has with telling me things, he says, “I may have exaggerated a little how much insulin I have left.”

  My stomach spirals straight down. “How much do you have left?” A day or two, probably.

  He shrugs again, but he doesn’t answer what I asked. Instead, he toys with one of those grenade-like seeds with his boot. Why’s he avoiding answering me? It can’t be because he didn’t hear me, and I know it’s not because he doesn’t trust me. He doesn’t have any left.

  I feel my mouth working, but no sound comes out. “You ran out, didn’t you?”

  There’s no way I’m bringing up the other couples now, because Marcus already has too much on his plate. He should be in a hospital, hooked up to an IV.

  Marcus shrugs again. “I have a few hours left. I’m stretching it out.” I’m about done with all this shrugging. He needs to take it easy, lie down. But he also shouldn’t have lied to me. He should have told me exactly how much he had from the beginning.

  “We need to find Teo, now!” I tug his hand. This is stupid, hanging out in the woods when he’s about to crash. What if he has a seizure or falls over or something? I don’t even know CPR. I can’t dial 911 or anything—

  But Marcus acts like he doesn’t hear me. He smiles this goofy, close-lipped smirk. “You know,” he says, “I’m going to be dead soon, anyway. I know you think of me as just a friend, but it would mean a lot to me if we could—” He stares at my lips. If he only knew how badly I want to kiss him. To know if his kisses could rival Teo’s. I’m such a whack-job for even thinking about Teo right now, but some part of me responds to Teo for some reason, and I need to know if that part of me can respond to someone who isn’t crazy.

  But we can’t kiss now
. Not yet. Because he wants to kiss me like it’s his final wish or something, and that is the last thing I will ever accept—Marcus, gone. The idea ties all sorts of knots and squeezes them inside my gut. I want to kiss Marcus. So much. But putting my lips to his now would make it seem like I agree with him giving up. We’re not giving up. We need to get that insulin now.

  Marcus must be reading my mind, because he kicks that rock he was toying with and says, “I know where it is.” The rock hits another tree and bounces back, rolling before it stops.

  I could wrap my hands around his chiseled, sweat-caked body and toss him from these woods—straight for the houses and that insulin. Why’s he standing around? “Then show me!” I plead.

  Eyes trained on the fence, Marc smiles, which looks more like a frown. “Ol ‘bino left it in the car.” But he needs his medicine now. That’s why he’s staring at the fence; he knows he needs to get out. He doesn’t need to go back to the compound. He needs Teo’s car. To think Teo’s SUV could be parked a few meters past the fence. If we could just slip right through it, he’d be okay.

  But how does he know this, exactly? Teo never mentioned this to me. “Did Jonas tell you or something?”

  Marcus laughs like I’m insulting him now. “Yep, because we’re best buds.”

  I’m so not above slapping him. “How do you know that’s where the vials are?”

  He rolls his eyes like I’m slow. “I heard Jonas and Teo talking about it, okay?”

  I’m not real fond of his tone, but I guess it’s okay since he’s sick from having such high blood sugar—he must be carefully parsing out whatever insulin he has left. We need a plan to get the insulin, break through this fence, and I need the opportunity to get to know him more. Teo makes me feel melancholy—has always made me feel that way. But I should be with someone who makes me feel positive, happy, and I can see that Marcus would do that, but we need to save him first.

  As he’s crouching to study the cement along the ground, the back of Marc’s shirt hitches up just enough that I catch a sliver of skin on his back, which isn’t as tan as Teo’s, but nice. Smooth-looking. And toned. Kneeling next to him, I stare at the mass of barbed wire blocking us from the outside and wilt a little when I remember again how Ramus’s and Bee’s body bags are gone. Gone. Here I’ve been checking Marcus out, and Ramus and Bee have been taken by them.

  “What could make it click?” Marcus asks, shaking his head in frustration.

  I still think it’s the remote, and I think it has to be the one in Teo’s coat. A universal remote kind of thing, only made for impending death. I just need to kiss Teo and slip it out. It’s not an idea Marcus likes, but I really don’t think we’ll come up with something better, so I say, “We’ll figure something out. If we can’t get over the fence, we could lock Teo up.”

  Marcus’s upper lip twitches like he’s working hard not to be mad. Not that I blame him. Staying here has to be the last thing he wants. I don’t want it, either, and of course that’s a lousy idea since his insulin is on the other side.

  Giving up on the magic button to open the fence, I sit on a flat rock on the forest floor. I don’t want to go back yet; I’d rather spend more time with Marcus in these woods. Not that I should be wasting these precious moments with him—we should be opening the fence—but Jonas’s party will be in an hour or two, and Teo will get suspicious if I cross to his side of the street. He wants to get down to three couples. I’d like to share this with Marcus, but that’s the last thing he needs—something else to stress over, apart from the fence and insulin.

  Sitting next to me on the forest floor, Marc raises one knee, rests his elbow on top, and braces his forehead like even sitting here costs him too much energy. I’d like to tell him to lie down. Go to sleep or something; use just a little bit of insulin. But that would be precisely the wrong thing to say; just to prove me wrong, he’d start running laps.

  So I wait, studying his sopping wet shirt, which clings to his chest. My, aren’t those nicely formed pecs. I wonder if he works out, if he’s one of those guys with rock-hard abs, or just enough definition but not too much.

  Bringing my knees to my chest, I have to ask him, “Are you doing okay?” Because the sweat running down his face only reiterates the fact that he shouldn’t be out here, but in bed.

  Marcus takes a deep breath, like he’s filling up an inflatable tank, and when he releases it, it’s like he’s waited too long for it to deflate. “Know what gets me?”

  I shake my head, having absolutely no clue what he’s thinking.

  “You’re exactly the type of girl I wanted you to be.”

  It takes everything I have not to smile stupidly. For a millisecond my face starts twitching, but the good type of twitching, because though everything’s going to hell, he’s telling me he likes me. Likes me. I’m not sure why, but I’ll take it.

  “You’re different.” I hug my knees, trying to keep my voice from getting all fluttery. “I always thought you were playful. That’s about—”

  “—it,” Marcus finishes lamely. He’s not angry or vengeful or full of plans like his brother would be; he just sits there, beaten, staring at that fence.

  “You never did tell me what happened the first time.” I gesture to the bruise on Marcus’s face, imagining it was Teo again.

  His lips curl into a smile. “Oh, you don’t need to ask.”

  “Teo?”

  He shrugs. “I’ve always been the rabble-rouser. That’s why I’m surprised my brother brought me here in the first place, but I suppose even my brother’s wishes are affected by blood.”

  When he says blood, my mind immediately goes to the endless crimson oozing from Izzy’s chest, but he means the bond between brothers, and that’s why he’s making a bitter face like something smells bad. But the only scent I pick up from Marcus is eucalyptus and the sawdust from the two pairs of seven homes, which makes my nose twitch. I’m about to sneeze—

  I stop my nose on his sleeve. This only makes it worse, because now all I can smell are the sweet dampness wafting off his shirt and the paints Marcus lent to me, and all I want to do is forget about my other senses and breathe.

  Marcus must be thinking I’m a little off base, what with the tip of my nose resting on his sleeve, so I close the distance to his shoulder and let my head drop onto the very top. It reminds me of sandstone covered in a cloak. He’s sturdy but not immoveable, and the layer between us is thin but just enough.

  “What would you do if I sat next to you in class?” Marcus asks, and it’s the warmest type of sound because I can feel the calm vibrations of his voice. “You know, if we went to the same school?”

  I feel a bit foolish for wanting to burrow inside his words and fall asleep. “Share my book,” I suggest, because maybe Marcus left his book at home by mistake.

  “I’d go for that.” Gingerly, he plucks my hand from the backs of my knees and holds it like it’s under the desk. It’s damp but still nice. “Book sharing has perks.”

  “I’d offer you some Skittles,” I smile, reaching into a pretend pocket and handing him an invisible bunch.

  Marcus gathers the little circles in his free hand and drops two or three in his mouth. He groans, then slips one inside of my mouth. “At lunchtime,” he says, “we would get Slurpees. And by seventh period I’d ask you out.”

  “For a movie?”

  “To a dance.”

  “I’d rather go bowling.”

  Marcus cracks open a smile. “I’ll bet.”

  I think about night’s cool fingers wrapping us up, snatching us away from all the problems we can’t fix. The electric fence melts, and we find his insulin in Teo’s SUV. I don’t know how we’ve stolen this moment, but it’s just what I always thought it would be. Marc does make me feel happy, light. With Teo, I feel scared, heavy. That’s not how love should be.

  The sun’s dipping low, blinking through the trees, and I know it’s almost time for Jonas’s party. We have to go back, yet it’s good for us to
go back. Every second we waste out here without Marc’s insulin is one second closer to his death. I need Teo’s remote; it has to open this fence.

  “So, we’ll get the remote?” I ask him, because now I can think of little else.

  Marcus nods gravely, his eyes looking more sunken than blue. “Just be careful, Cheyenne. Because I’ll do anything to have that chance with you.”

  I perk up an eyebrow, unsure what he means.

  “To sit with you in class.” He smiles sheepishly. “I’d do anything to share a book with you.”

  19

  “Persephone,” Teo says when I open my front door for him before we head to Jonas’s house. He holds a small box out to me, and all I can do is stare at that black suit, thinking of his remote. I wish I could freeze time—snatch away the remote and leave.

  I look down at the box in his hands. He’s offering me a present. Did my visit with Marcus make me forget I’m supposed to give him one, too? But Teo gently sets the box in my hands and I step backward to let him in, forcing my eyes away from his coat. The box is made of metal, but with air holes throughout. An insect is inside.

  “What’s this?” I ask, trying to make sense of the bug. I’ve never received an insect as a present. Hopefully it’s not a metaphor for a mating ritual.

  But there’s only one bug, and Teo smiles wanly. “It’s a damselfly,” he says. “You usually find them near water, but I found her in the woods behind my house last night.” He reaches over and unlatches the lid. I think the bug will fly away, but there’s a layer of sheer fabric keeping her trapped inside.

  I study the insect, never having heard the name before, though it looks familiar. Wings held closely together top off her slender, cobalt body, and two round eyes stare up at me, almost like a puppy’s eyes. I glance up briefly at Teo. “She’s not a dragonfly?”

  Teo studies the creature in my hands and shakes his head. “This little jewel is more slender than a dragonfly and holds her wings together, like she’s always on the defensive. Dragonflies flaunt their wings.”