“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you later. Let’s just get Vella’s so we can call for help.”
“There’s no one to call. The pigs are all out partyii I tried them.”
“I know. I meant call for someone outside. The National Guard or something. The San Francisco police. Ij don’t know.”
“Where does Vella live?”
“On Ash.” Penelope gestured down the street. “A few| blocks past school.”
Kevin’s face paled. “Don’t go there.”
Chills surfed down Penelope’s arms at the fear in his voice. “Why? What is it?”
“Don’t go there. I’ve been there.”
“What is it?”
“You don’t want to know.”
He was right. She didn’t want to know. She had seen tool much already, had heard too much, had experienced too| much. Her limit had been reached. She wanted only to : away and escape, to have troops come in here and clean aul this up, and to return in the daytime when it was all over.
“Do you think Vella is …” She could not finish thefj sentence.
“If she was at her house, she’s dead.” He looked up and down the street.
The area from which she’d come was f coming even more crowded. Others were joining the frayl the fight spreading. In the yellowish glow of the street-1 lights the silhouettes of unmoving bodies could be seenl on the asphalt. “School,” he said. “It was abandoned when I went by earlier. We can go there.”
“And do what?”
“Hide. Find a classroom, lock ourselves inside, and wait for morning.”
“I don’t know …”
Kevin smiled thinly. “Dion won’t care. He knows he can trust me.”
Penelope blinked. He didn’t know about Dion. Tears seeped out from between her eyelids-and down her cheeks, and she wiped them angrily away, willing herself not to cry. She had not had the luxury of experiencing her feelings, and as far as she was concerned, that luxury was still not yet available to her. She would have time to wallow in her misery later. Right-now she had to act. She had to keep herself alive.
And away from Dion and her mothers.
Kevin saw her wipe away the tears. Their eyes met, and he looked away, embarrassed. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Dion’s dead?”
“No.”
“He’s all right, then?”
“Not that either.”
“He’s one of them?”
She shook her head. “It’s a long story. Let’s find a room. I’ll tell you there. We’ll have a lot of time to kill.”
Kevin nodded. “I was thinking Sherwood’s history class. It’s on the second floor, facing the street. We’ll be able to see anyone coming.”
Penelope nodded tiredly. “Fine with me.”
They hurried, side by side, down the rest of the block, checking first to make sure no one was around before dashing across the faculty parking lot to the classroom building.
The front doors were locked.
“Come on,” Kevin said. “Around the side. We’ll break a window and crawl in. Too much exposure here.”
Kevin took off one of his boots and used it to break and clear out the window glass of one of the science rooms. He crawled in first, then grabbed her arms and helped her in. They waited a minute, listening, ready to jump back out and escape if necessary, but there were no alarms, voices, no sounds within the building at all.
They exited the science room, walked down the hall-l way and upstairs to the history classroom. It was unlocked, and they had no trouble getting in, but ther seemed to be no lock on the door at all. Kevin wanted try another room, maybe the teachers’ staff room, some! place that would have a lockable door, but Penelope like the idea of being able to see the street, and they pushe the teacher’s desk against the door, then sat on two of thej students’ desks and stared out the window.
There were fires and searchlights, mobs of people passed in front of the street, going first one way and then the other. In the still air, sounds were amplified, distorted.! Everything sounded close. Gunshots. Car crashes. Laughter. Music. Screams.
A lot of screams.
Kevin fell asleep a few hours later, after she had told 2 him of Dion and her mothers. It was a wild story, but I questions he’d asked made it sound as though he believe it.
Why wouldn’t he after everything he’d seen?
She couldn’t sleep, though. She stayed awake, staring] out at the city above the rooftops and the trees. The gun| shots stopped, as did the crashes. The laughter died. The| music faded.
Only the screams remained.
And they continued throughout the night.
In the morning, she could almost believe that none of it had happened, that it was a normal world, that she and Kevin had merely stayed late in the classroom to study and had fallen asleep, or even that they were rebellious teenagers in love who had snuck into the building for a romantic rendezvous and had spent the night together.
Anything was easier to believe than the truth.
Getting up quietly, Penelope walked across the cold tile to the window and peeked through the closed slats of the blinds. The street outside looked the same as it always did. There were a few cars parked next to the curb, and the houses across the way were early morning still. The weather was gloomy and cold, the air touched with a tinge of fog.
Only there was no traffic on the street. Not a single car drove past, not a single pedestrian walked by.
In the center of the parking lot she saw empty, broken wine bottles.
Dion, she thought.
She felt a sickening twinge of nausea as she recalled Mother Janine bending over in front of Dion, baring her sex to him. What had happened to her mother after that? Had she been ruptured by his enormous organ?
Had she died from hemmorhaging or internal bleeding?
Penelope hoped so.
No, she didn’t.
Maybe she did.
She took a deep breath. She wasn’t sure. The truth was, she didn’t really know what she felt Her thoughts and emotions were still in a state of shock. She peered through the blinds, at the hillside above their winery on the opposite side of the city. She thought of the orgy in; the meadow last night, and though the remembrance hot-j rifled and frightened her, it was at the same time … enticing.
She moved away from the window. The pull was strong. There was no denying that. It was only strength and willpower that had kept her from succumbing, that| had allowed her to overcome the base desires of herl blood.
Blood.
That was the most frightening thing about it all. The fact that she wanted to be part of it, that she knew she should be part of it.
But how long could her mind hold out against her body and her emotions?
She moved away from the window. There was a telephone mounted on the wall to the side of the blackboard. She hadn’t noticed it last night, but she saw it now, and she walked across the room and picked it up.
No dial tone.
The phone was dead, but that didn’t really mean any| thing. The line just went to the switchboard in the office. If she could get to a phone on one of the outside lines, she might be able to call for help.
She walked over to the door, started pulling on the < of the teacher’s desk to move it away. There was a loud screech as one of the desk legs scraped across the floor.’!
Kevin awoke with a start, practically leaping to his feera from the position on the floor in which he’d fallen asleep.| He was instantly awake and on the alert, glancing quickly! from the door to the windows and back again, before fn! nally letting his gaze settle on Penelope.
“What are y doing?” he demanded.
“I was going to look for a phone, see if we could c; for help.”
“You were going to sneak out on your own?”
She looked away, embarrassed. “I didn’t want to w you up.”
“Shit.” He shook his head. “I guess you can’t trust an one.”
“And just what the hell
is that supposed to mean?”
“It means I thought we were in this together. It means that since we seem to be the only two normal people left in the whole fucking valley, I thought we were going to stick with each other and not sneak around behind each other’s backs.”
She looked at him apologetically. “Sorry.”
He was silent for a moment. “So where were you going to call from?”
“A phone in the office. Or the pay phone by the gym if that didn’t work.”
“Who were you going to call?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “The police in Vallejo, maybe. Or Oakland.
Or San Francisco.”
He nodded. “Sounds like a plan. But I’m coming with you.”
“Okay.”
Together they moved aside the desk and chairs they’d used to block the door. Kevin put his ear to the door for a moment, listening to make sure no one was out there, before opening it.
The hallway was deserted. And dark. It was morning, but no windows opened onto the hallway, and, save for theirs, the doors to all of the classrooms were closed. The lights were off.
Penelope had never seen the school like this, and somehow it seemed creepier than it had last night. Buildings were supposed to be dark at nighttime, but this daytime gloom was unnerving.
They walked slowly down the hallway toward the stairs, not speaking, treading softly. There were no sounds other than their own, but instead of reassuring her, the silence made her feel uneasy, on edge. Someone could be lying in wait for them right now, hearing their every move, listening to their progress, preparing to leap out from behind one of these closed doors … They made it safely to the stairway, started quietly down.
It was not as dark downstairs. A row of thin windows high above the lockers let in a dusty version of daylight. There was no noise, no indication that anyone else was Present, but Penelope still felt tense.
They should have brought weapons, she thought. They were stupid. If some*| one attacked them, they had nothing with which to fighls back.
They walked toward the office. It was weird being ia| here like this.
Usually, the corridor was crammed with! students rushing to and from classes, sorting through theirl lockers, talking and laughing with one another. Butjl empty, the hallway seemed not only sad and lonely but, Jf under the circumstances, ominous.
The office door was locked, but the door to the staff lounge next to it was open, and Kevin walked in, Penelope following. There was a phone on a battered table in front of an old sofa, and they hurried over to it.
Kevin picked it up, put it to his ear. His expression said everything.
It was dead.
He jiggled the dial tone button, then dropped the receiver disgustedly into the cradle.
“Shit,” he said.
Were all the phones in the city dead, or only the ones in the school?
Penelope didn’t know, but she did know that she had to go outside and find out for herself. If telephone service had been cut off, then they’d have to try to find someone to help them, or get a car themselves and drive out of the valley.
Kevin had obviously been thinking along the same lines. “The phones are down,” he said. “But maybe it’s only the school. I’ll go out and see if I can find a phone that works.”
“No, you won’t.”
He blinked. “What?”
“You can’t go out there. They’ll kill you. I’D go.”
He glared at her. “The fuck you will.”
“The fuck I won’t.”
“Oh, you’re going to go traipsing around the city to save us? What do you expect me to do? Sit in here all day?”
“Yes.”
“Shit!” He kicked the table, and it flew onto its side with a loud crash. He hurried to pick it up, instantly realizing his mistake, hoping no one had heard the sound.
“Look,” she said, “just calm down. You’re going to have to lay low for a while. I’ll go out there and try to find a phone or someone who can help us—”
“You won’t go out there and do anything.”
“They won’t hurt me.”
“Who?”
“My mothers.”
“What about Dion?”
“I’ll deal with him if I see him.”
“You’ll be easier to spot in the daytime.”
“They want me to join them. They won’t harm me. You’re nobody. They don’t care what happens to you. They’d toss you to the wolves in a second.”
Kevin was silent for a moment. He nodded. “You’re right,” he said. “I
may be an asshole, but I’m not a moron.” He looked toward the blurred glass window at the far end of the staff lounge. “So where are you going to go? You can’t go to the police station. We already know the cops won’t help.”
“Fire stations, churches … I don’t know. I’ll find somebody. If not, I’ll steal a car.”
Kevin nodded excitedly. “Yeah. A car. That’s what we need to do. Get a car and get the hell out of here.” He thought for a moment. “You need a weapon, though. Something you can use if you get attacked.”
“If I get attacked, there probably won’t be a whole lot I can—”
“You’re not going out alone without something.”
She heard the seriousness in his voice, understood me sense of what he was saying, and nodded. “We’ll both get weapons.”
“That’s the idea.”
She followed him down the hallway. If this had been a movie, she thought, he would have taken her hand. It would have been the first hint that xomance would eventually bloom between them. But they had not touched, had not come anywhere close to touching, and for that she was grateful. All those fictional depictions of two people thrown together by circumstance in the midst of a great disaster and finding accelerated love had always seemed like a load of bull to her, and she was glad to I cover that she had been right.
So why was she thinking about it?
Inside the custodial office, they found everything the needed and more:
hammers, screwdrivers, shovels, rake litter spears, hedge clippers, scissors. Penelope chose long Phillip’s screwdriver and a pair of scissors, both which she tucked into the waistband of her pants.
“Be careful how you bend,” Kevin said, grinning.
“Thanks.”
Kevin grabbed several screwdrivers, a hammer, clippers, and a litter spear.
“If Rambo was a gardener …” Penelope said.
Kevin laughed.
That was a good sign, she thought. They could still laugh about the situation. They could still joke. That gavel her confidence. The fact that they were able to retain theirf sense of humor despite the situation made it all seem a; little less ominous. Humor somehow erected a barrier be-y tween themselves and the horrors and served to keep everything else at bay.
“Do you have a watch?” Kevin asked.
Penelope shook her head.
“Here, take mine.” He unfastened the band at his wristf and handed his watch to her. “Since we don’t havisj walkie-talkies or anything and can’t keep in contact wit&fj each other, we need to set up a specific time for you to| meet me back here. If you’re not back by that time, I’ll! know something’s wrong and I’ll come after you.”
Penelope nodded as she fastened the watch to her wrist.”
“What time is it now?”
She looked. “Seven-twenty. I’ll be back by nine.”
“Okay.”
They walked back down the hall, toward the front entrance.
When they reached the front door, they stopped, looked at each other.
“Be careful,” Kevin said.
“I will.”
Penelope took a deep breath, opened the door, and peered out. The air was cold, punctuated with a slight chill breeze. From north of town, from the direction of the wineries, she could hear the faint sounds of screaming, cheering. This far away, it sounded almost benign, like people having a party.
&
nbsp; She looked to the left and then to the right, making sure there was no one around. The coast was clear, and without looking back at Kevin, she ran across the parking lot to the street. She heard the door shut behind her.
She reached the sidewalk. Now she could see some of the damage that had not been visible from the classroom. Up the street, a pickup was overturned and still burning, two bodies discarded on the asphalt next to it like limp rag dolls. Beyond that she saw movement. A small group of obviously armed, obviously intoxicated people prowling the neighborhood. Half of them were naked. They moved on, heading down another street, but another group crossed an intersection farther up, and she knew she’d probably run into others. She glanced around. Under a tree on the easement was an unbroken wine bottle, still a third full, and she quickly ran over and dumped the contents on her head and shoulders, rubbing the wine into her hair and skin so she would smell as though she was drunk, as though she was one of them. She opened her blouse, exposing a breast.
She was ready.
But where would she go? Not the winery, certainly, and not to the police station.
The fire station. That’s what she’d said to Kevin, and that’s where she would go. Even if the firemen had been overpowered or converted, there would still be communications equipment there. Last night’s destruction hadn’t been purposeful, planned. It had been random and wanton, the ignorant rampage of inebriated … what? Dionysian revelers?
Yes.
She shook her head, trying to clear it.
Maenads.
Why had she never heard that word before? Her mothers were maenads.
Hell, she was a maenad. You’d think they would have told her a little about it, hinted around something.
Maybe they had.
She remembered the stories they’d told her as a child, 1 the fairy tales of chaos and blood lust and rethroned kings. She recalled one favorite story involving a young princess who had to drink a magic elixir to become strong enough to kill a pack of wolves who had captured her father.
Maybe they’d been trying to prepare her.
She stared down at the empty bottle on the grass. The wine on her skin smelled good, and a part of her wished she’d saved a few swallows to drink.
No!
Blood.
Dominion Page 27