He looks up and his eyes meet mine. His eyes widen and then his face brightens.
“Hi,” he mouths.
I just stare back at him. I’m still unsure of what to do. I should run, but if I do, maybe he’ll come out here after me.
Think of something!
Then he lifts his eyes in the direction of the woman’s fingers and his hair and mouths, “Help me.” He grimaces and I can’t help it, I laugh out loud. I clap a hand over my mouth and take a step backward, right into my mom.
“Lyla, what are you doing? We have tons to do, let’s go.” My mom pulls on my arm and I give Cody one last look before I turn toward the maze of aisles and start putting things into one of our two carts. My hands are trembly and I can’t stop looking over my shoulder. I’m praying not to see Cody again, but then hoping to see him at the same time.
Shopping always takes a long time for us. Since we only do it once or twice each year, we aren’t very familiar with the layout of the store. We can’t always find the items that are on our list and spend lots of time walking up and down the aisles. Canned goods and cereals are easiest, but things like aspirin and duct tape are hard. Usually I don’t mind, but today I’m willing Mom to move even faster than she already is.
“We’ll be done soon, don’t worry.” Mom pats my shoulder. She must think that I’m nervous for the same reasons she is. Guilt consumes me. I’ve let this boy infect my brain. I’m weak and susceptible to temptation, especially when it comes wrapped in the body of a boy like Cody. I’m the reason for Pioneer’s prayers last night. He must suspect my weakness. Maybe the Brethren—far away but watching me—told him.
I keep searching for Cody as we fill the cart with toilet paper and paper towels, but after at least a half hour, there’s still no sign of him. I start to relax a little. We’ve filled one cart and are halfway through another now. Maybe he had to leave. I try not to let this thought disappoint me too much. It’s a good thing he hasn’t shown up.
I pat my pocket, the one with Marie’s money in it. After we’re done here, I might have a chance to get her magazines. Maybe I’ll try when we fill up the truck with gas. Even though there are books and magazines here, I won’t get an opportunity to buy any. My mom never lets me out of her sight in this store. She says it’s too big and that there are too many opportunities for trouble to find me, but at the gas station maybe I can convince her to let me pay like Marie does and get the magazines there. I’m not excited about the idea. I’m more sick than anything else, but it’s as good a distraction as any to keep me from obsessing about Cody. Plus, part of me wants to be able to do what Marie did, to do something no one expects of me.
“Grab me that big jar of olives over there.” Mom squints at the list in her hand as she nudges me. I scan the shelves, my mind still on the money and my supposed mission and Cody. I turn to hand her the gallon-sized jar, but I let go too soon. The jar slips from between both of our outstretched hands and smashes by my mom’s feet. Olives and light brown liquid spread out across the aisle. My mother lets out a little yelp as some of the liquid splashes onto her pants. They are soaked all along the bottom and middle with juice.
“Sorry!” I squeak.
“It was an accident, no one’s fault,” Mom says as we stoop together to start picking up the broken glass.
A man with a name tag enters the aisle and hurries over to us. “No, no, no, ladies, please don’t go pickin’ that stuff up on your own. You’ll cut yourselves. I’ve got this.” The man waves us away as he pulls out a small walkie-talkie-type thing and starts speaking into it. “Suz, we got a mess on aisle seven.”
My mom’s pants are stuck to her calves. The air around us reeks of olives. “I need to go and try to get this stuff out of my pants,” she says. “I can’t smell this all the way home. I’ll be sick.”
“The bathroom’s up front, right?” I ask as I turn the cart in that direction.
“Yes, but it’s past the checkout lines. We’ll have to check out and then go in, but even then we can’t really leave the cart alone, can we?” My mom chews on her lip. “I’ll just deal with it for now until we find your father.” She shakes her leg out a bit, but her pants are a second skin where the hem meets her ankles. She has to be uncomfortable.
“Why don’t we just find a cheap pair of pants and then you can change really quick while I wait with the carts out here?”
My mom looks like she’s ready to say no out of habit, but then she hesitates. The pants must really be bothering her for her to even consider leaving me alone. I know that the smell is definitely getting to me. I hate olives. We both do.
“Fine, but you have to stay right up front. No wandering around and no talking to strangers.”
I nod my head. “I think I can handle myself for two whole minutes, Mom.” Although at this point, I’m not completely sure.
We pick out a pair of seven-dollar navy pants from the clearance rack and head to the front of the store. I stop just before the checkout, directly across from the bathrooms. My mom pulls her cart up next to mine and heads to the closest checkout line. She glances at me repeatedly while she waits for the person in front of her to pay. I swear she’s convinced that a swarm of psycho killers will come running out of nowhere and snatch me up. I shake my head and look around for my dad. It’s then that I notice where I’m standing—right in front of the magazine and book section. I swallow hard and look up at my mom. If I hurry, maybe I can grab a few magazines and make it through the checkout line before she comes back out.
I wait while she gathers up her bag and her receipt and heads toward the bathroom. She hesitates by the door. I try to smile at her, but my mouth’s gotten very dry all of a sudden and my lips seem to be stuck to my teeth. So instead I wave and hope that I don’t look as nervous and guilty as I feel. She waves back and goes into the bathroom.
I look around one more time for my dad, but he’s nowhere in sight. I inch toward the display shelves full of books and magazines, sure that at any moment one or both of my parents will come rushing up behind me yelling “Aha!” I wipe my palms on my shorts and walk the seven remaining steps to the magazines. I give them one quick scan before I pick the two with the prettiest people on them. I turn toward our shopping carts and try to decide which checkout line looks quickest when I notice a cardboard book display of more than a dozen books with the kind of covers Marie mentioned.
I stop and pick up one with a cover I know Marie will love. It makes me want to grimace or gag or both. There’s a bare-chested man on it and his muscles are so well defined that they look cartoonish, all hairless and tan. His hair is dark and tousled like someone’s just run their fingers through it. Next to him is an extremely busty woman with long dark hair and parted lips. Her hand is draped over one of his shoulders and she’s swooning into him. I wonder if this is how Marie sees herself and Brian when they’re together. I imagine their heads on top of the bodies on the book cover and I laugh out loud. I turn the book over and start looking for the price.
“You’re into romance books?” a male voice says.
I startle and almost drop the book. Cody is across the display from me. His eyebrow is quirked up and he’s grinning at me.
“Um, no, I mean, sort of … it’s for a friend,” I mumble, and my face fills with heat. A tornado of emotions—panic, joy, and horror—swirls through me.
He holds up his hands. “Hey, no judgment here. My mom loves those things. She’s got about a dozen beside her bed right now. Trust me, the one you’ve got there is tame by comparison.” He shivers and then chuckles.
“I thought you’d left” is all I can manage to say.
“I was just waiting to see if I could get you alone. Something tells me your parents wouldn’t approve of us … talking. Right?”
I smile a little. “Um, yeah.”
“Lucky for me you attacked your mom with those olives. I was beginning to think you would leave before I’d get my chance.”
I laugh a little and stare at the
books in front of me. Cody flips through a stack of books beside him. “You could always get your friend this one.” He holds up a book with a bronzed and glistening pirate in pants so tight and low that it isn’t hard to guess what’s underneath them.
“Who can resist a dude in extra-tight striped pants?” Cody smirks, and we both laugh.
His eyes crinkle and his lips twist off to one side of his face when he smiles. His hair is still damp from his haircut, tousled and soft looking near the nape of his neck. I have the strangest urge to touch the tiny hairs there to see if they feel the way that I think they do, like duck down.
I’m staring and he’s smiling at me while I do it. I look back down at the books. I have to get away from him. Whatever this is that I’m feeling is all wrong. I know it and yet I can’t make myself walk away. Instead I find myself trying to memorize his face. How can a boy I barely know interest me this much? Why him and not Will?
Will is chosen, like me. Cody’s not. The Brethren have decided that he’s supposed to die. If he was good, he’d be in Mandrodage Meadows with us. The Brethren would’ve seen to it and led Pioneer to him. Instead he’s here in Culver Creek, which means that I’m losing it over a guy who’s been sentenced to death, inherently damaged and evil.
But who knew someone so supposedly evil could seem so … not? Nothing about him screams danger to me. Shouldn’t I have some sort of warning bell going off in my head? Shouldn’t I have an overwhelming urge to run? I don’t. So what does that say about me?
Cody’s watching me. He’d been talking about something a moment ago, but now he’s just staring at me, his head cocked to one side like he’s trying to eavesdrop on my thoughts.
“Where’d you just go?” he asks softly.
“Sorry, I just … should probably find my parents.” I finally commit to what I have to do and it sucks.
“But we’ve only been talking for a few minutes.” He moves a little closer and leans against the book display. His hand is close enough to mine that our fingers touch. My stomach flops around like a fish on land.
“Why don’t we just walk the aisles? If your parents show up, you can tell them that you went looking for them and got turned around,” Cody asks. He hasn’t moved his hand. It’s still touching mine.
I move over a little to put some space between us. “I can’t. I promised my mom that I’d wait right here with our carts. We’re just about done shopping anyway. So this is kind of it, sorry.”
His face falls a little. “You’re sure?”
I nod.
“Lyla!” Mom shouts my name. Her face is the picture of panic. People turn to look at her and then at me. My face flushes and I fight the urge to go hide under one of the clothing racks.
“See? I’ve really gotta go,” I mumble at Cody. I can’t meet his eyes as I talk.
Mom’s already closed the distance between us. “Are you all right?” she asks loudly enough for Cody and several other people standing nearby to hear.
“Mom, I’m fine,” I say through gritted teeth.
“I’m Cody.” Cody offers my mom his hand to shake, but she looks at it like it might sting her. “Lyla gave me a tour of your neighborhood when I was there with my dad last week. Sheriff Crowley?”
Mom just stares at him.
“Anyway, I saw her over here and just thought that I’d say hello.” He smiles, but my mom’s face is pinched and suspicious. I want to die.
“Yes, well, I’m afraid we’ve got a busy day ahead of us. No time for chitchat. Come along, Lyla.” She pulls at my arm. Her fingers grip it uncomfortably.
I look at Cody one last time. Our eyes lock for a second. I shouldn’t feel disappointed. I knew something like this would happen. I barely know him. My chest squeezes and I feel dangerously close to tears. Whatever this was, it’s over before it could even start—which, according to everything that I believe, is only right. I just wish it didn’t feel so wrong.
“Hey, wait! Don’t you want your magazines … and books?” Cody calls out, and I cringe. He holds the magazines up where my mom can see them. Mom cuts her eyes at me. I won’t look at her.
“Lyla?” She looks at me like she’s never seen me before in her life.
“Um, I was only looking at them. He must’ve misunderstood.”
Cody looks ready to bring the book and magazines to me, but then he looks at my mom and thinks better of it. Instead he shrugs and sets them down. Mom pulls my arm a little harder.
“Mind telling me what’s going on?”
“Nothing, nothing’s going on,” I say woodenly. It’s true. Nothing is going on, not anymore.
If your mind and heart are not meditating on my words and the commandments of the Brethren at all times, you’re setting yourself up for a fall.
—Pioneer
I follow my parents back to the truck. We eat a little lunch in the cab while we’re still in the Walmart parking lot. Usually we try to go to the park and eat outside, but my parents are anxious to get back on the road, so our last intown meal overlooks shopping carts and cars.
I’m not all that hungry, so I sketch instead. I start off sketching a bird that’s wandering around the parking lot, but before long I flip to a new page and start drawing Cody. I work on getting the shape of his chin right, the angle of his jaw. Maybe if I can get him on paper, I can flush him out of my system. I promise myself that I’ll throw this sketch out once I’m done with it. Then I’ll forget all about this morning and concentrate on the mornings that’ll come after this one, on all of the things big and small we still have to do before we go into the Silo.
By the time I’m done sketching, my parents have finished eating and are busy tidying up the truck. I feel a little better, more centered. I push Cody toward the back of my thoughts and nibble on a cheese sandwich as we stuff all our garbage into a plastic bag. Only a few more stops and this day, this town, will be a thing of the past as far as I’m concerned, no more than a dream.
We have to stop at the post office next and then the gas station before we leave town for good. My dad starts the truck and my mom hands me the bag of trash she’s gathered so I can throw it away. I hop out of the cab and walk the trash to the front entrance of the store. I watch the continuous stream of people coming out and begin to search for the trashcan.
I’ve just crossed the main thoroughfare between the parking lot and the front doors when Cody appears. The automatic doors slide open and there he is. I smile almost on reflex. I take a step forward, my hand already coming up to wave. Then I wonder if my parents are watching, if they see me doing the one thing I shouldn’t, and I turn around. I start to take a step back into the parking lot. I can throw our stuff out at the post office.
I have about a second to register sunlight glinting off something metal. There’s a flash of green. Something strikes my left side. Hard. My body flops against it. I realize with a detached sense of wonder that it’s a car. I walked in front of a moving car.
The world tilts. I’m falling. My butt smacks the asphalt. My hands scrape across loose gravel before my head snaps downward. There’s a strange cracking sound inside my head. I blink. Then I open my mouth to breathe, but my lungs won’t work. The car screeches to a halt a few feet away.
I’m flat on my back on the road. My shirt has ridden up and my lower back is burning, melting into the ground. I can’t move, can’t make myself get up. There’s noise and people all around me, but I can’t make sense of any of it. Then it’s as if the asphalt expands, wraps around me until there’s nothing more than blackness and the sound of my mother’s screams in my ears.
When I open my eyes next, there’s a ring of heads looming over me. I can’t make sense of their faces, can’t decide if I know any of them. My head hurts—enough so that I keep closing my eyes again to block out the colors and light. The flashes of movement around me feel as abrupt and disturbing as gunfire. My ears are ringing. I can still hear, but the noises are muffled. People are talking. None of it makes sense. I try to sit up, bu
t hands hold me tight to the ground. It hurts to fight them off, so I stop trying. I lick my lips instead and try to speak.
“Sweetie, you have to stay very still for me.” My dad’s voice breaks through the haze in my head. He’s next to me, right by my shoulder. His face is all fear. It scares me.
“Car,” I manage to mumble. My eyes are either watery from the pain or I’m crying. I can’t tell which.
“Yes, we know. The ambulance is coming now.” My dad looks up and I follow his gaze. He’s staring at my mom. She’s leaning over my other side. My head clears a little. They’re scared because I have to go to the hospital. This is bad. It means unwanted attention for all of us. I struggle against my dad’s hands again. I have to get up. We have to leave before the ambulance actually gets here. We have to get back to Mandrodage Meadows.
“I’m all right,” I croak.
“No, sweetie, you’re not. You have to lie still.” Dad leans over, close to my ear, and whispers in it. “Don’t worry. We’ll handle the people at the hospital. The only thing that matters right now is that we make sure you’re okay.”
I look out at the crowd of people standing around us. Most are whispering to each other, their faces openly curious. Do they already know who we are? Where we’re from? I look for Cody. He was there. In the store. Right before I got hit. I don’t see him anywhere now, though.
Good.
At least he had enough sense not to get involved.
My mom smooths my hair and kisses my forehead. Her face goes from reassuring to crumply and half hysterical, then back again. She’s barely holding it together. I’ve made her face her worst fear all over again. I can see her reliving Karen’s disappearance as she looks down at me.
“I’ll be fine, Mom. I promise.” I try to smile, but wince instead. My head and neck are pounding.
My mom finally loses the battle and lets out one long wail just as the ambulance comes tearing through the parking lot, its siren mixing with her cry in a terrible duet.
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