Razor Girl

by Marianne Mancusi

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Molly ran down the street, tears blinding her. She knew she should go to the market, should stand in line as her mother had asked and collect the food they needed to stay in good health. But she couldn’t bring herself to go. Not yet.

  She didn’t know where she was running, and surprised herself when she ended up at Chris Griffin’s house. It was weird to think that the boy she’d barely tolerated for so many years had become her number one source of comfort.

  Banging on the door, she prayed he was home, home and—A crazy thought struck her. What if he was sick, too? What if everyone was sick? Everyone but her. She tried to decide which would be worse: dying, or being the only one left alive. Both options seemed beyond awful.

  The door swung open. A six-year-old dark-skinned girl peered out with huge almond-shaped eyes. She was dressed in a pair of cut-off jeans, as was the fashion, and a beaded silver top.

  “Um, hi,” Molly said. “Is Chris here?”

  “Chris!” the girl called loudly, not bothering to turn around.

  “Yeah?” A voice in the distance. Molly let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. He was okay. He was alive.

  “Some girl at the door.”

  “Who?”

  The little girl looked at Molly with a mixture of boredom and inquiry.

  “Molly,” she said.

  “Molly!” the girl repeated loudly for Chris’s benefit.

  “Be right there.”

  The child snapped her gum. “He’ll be right here,” she said unnecessarily, not unblocking the door to let Molly inside.

  “Um, yeah. Thanks.”

  A moment later, Chris appeared. He ruffled the little sentry’s hair. “You can let her in, you know, Tara,” he told her. Then he turned to Molly. “Don’t mind her,” he said fondly. “She’s just overprotective.” He shuffled her away from the door and beckoned for Molly to enter.

  She followed him down into a finished basement packed with sim decks and other electronic equipment. He invited her to sit down on the red plaid sofa and asked if she wanted a drink.

  She shook her head. “No, thank you.”

  “Are you sure?” He looked down at her, concerned. “You look pale. Maybe some water?”

  She nodded. “Okay.”

  He pressed a button on the refrigeration unit at the far end of the room. A bottle of water popped out of the slot below. He handed it to her.

  “How have you been?” he asked, sitting down beside her. “Still thinking about Mount Holyoke?”

  She shrugged, pulling her legs up under her. Taking a sip of the water, she tried to decide how best to answer the question. She hadn’t forgotten the monster, of course. But now it seemed almost irrelevant, given the news she’d received a few minutes before. “I went by Erin’s today,” she told him, her voice shaking. “And she’s…she’s sick.”

  “Oh, Molly, I’m sorry.” Chris leaned over and pulled her into a huge hug. That was all it took for her to lose her last semblance of control. Tears flowed from her eyes, soaking his T-shirt. Feeling embarrassed, she tried to pull away, but he held her tight, stroking her back with gentle fingers.

  “She’s my best friend,” Molly sobbed. “What if she dies? What if everyone dies? If kids are now getting it, then what hope do the rest of us have?”

  “Can I ask you a personal question?”

  “Sure,” she said, wondering what on Earth he was going to say.

  “Have you gotten your AIDS vaccine?”

  What? What did he just say? She jerked away, angry. “What are you asking?” she demanded. “I’m trying to tell you my best friend is probably dying and you’re interested in whether or not I have my license to fuck?” She glared at him. What a mistake she’d made coming here. And to think she’d thought he was different. But no, he was just like Drew and the rest of mankind, thinking with his dick. Maybe it was better the plague wiped them all out. They were truly pathetic as a species.

  Chris held up his hands in protest. “Relax!” he cried. “Jeez, it’s not like I’m asking to get in your pants.”

  She glowered at him, not sure what to say.

  “Wow, you’d really think I’d try something like that when you’re crying? What do you take me for?” He shook his head. “I’m asking ’cause I’ve been doing some more forum trolling, and from what some scientists have gathered, it seems the flu may be some kind of reaction to the AIDS vaccine. They claim that all the victims so far have been vaccinated.”

  “Oh.” She felt her face flame as she realized what he was saying. How stupid of her to think he wanted sex. He was Chris, not Drew. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to imply…” She trailed off, realizing the implications of his words. “So you’re saying the plague only affects those with their LTFs?” It made perfect sense. Erin had just gotten hers. Now she was sick. Molly hadn’t, and she felt fine. And her dad insisted she’d be okay. He’d probably read the same research. “Are you sure? I haven’t heard anything like that on the news.”

  “Yeah, that’s ’cause the government controls the media still, and they don’t want any people taking revenge. After all, they’re the ones who made it a requirement to get inoculated.”

  “I guess that makes sense.” Molly thought for a moment. “God, that’s so terrible. More than three-quarters of our population have gotten the shot. All that’s going to be left is a bunch of kids.”

  Chris nodded. “That’s what it looks like. Unless other adults are immune.”

  She felt cold. Scared. She buried her head back in his chest, wanting his warmth. He wrapped his arms around her again, nuzzling her head with his chin. “I know it’s scary,” he whispered. “But I promise, we’ll get through. We’ll figure out a way.”

  She nodded against him, enjoying the sensation of his hands rubbing up and down her back. He felt warm and solid and safe. Unlike the rest of the world.

  “I won’t let anything happen to you,” he swore. “I’ll keep you safe.”

  She looked up at him, knowing her face was blotchy and her cheeks tearstained. “Do you really mean that?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper. Sensations she hadn’t been aware existed were now coursing down her spine, tickling and tingling. He was so sweet. So brave. So caring. What had she been thinking all these years? Calling him a geek and valuing losers like Drew. He was a lot like a diamond himself. And she had treated him as a shard of glass.

  “Of course,” he replied, gravely serious. He reached up and brushed a tear from her cheek. The sensation gave her chills and warmed her belly. “I’d do anything for you, Molly.”

  Suddenly she knew what she wanted.

  “Anything?”

  He nodded.

  “Then kiss me.”

  And he did. His lips brushed hers with an ultimate tenderness. The chills came harder and faster now, and she found she could barely breathe. With a soft moan she parted her lips, allowing his tongue entrance. It was hesitant, as if Chris were afraid to push lest the offer be rescinded. So Molly took the lead, pressing her mouth against his and going after what she wanted. Their tongues met and danced as they clung to one another.

  She’d been kissed before. Plenty of times. But never had it felt like this. So passionate, so sweet. Maybe it was because of the situation, knowing that the end of the world as they knew it was likely near. Or maybe it was more than that. Maybe they were meant to be together. Whatever it was, it felt good. And for the first time since the whole thing began, Molly felt a tiny bit of peace.

  “I love you, Molly,” Chris whispered against her mouth.

  And she knew right then and there, crazy as the idea might be, she loved him, too.

  If the world was going to end, at the very least they had each other. And that was something.

  In fact, that was a lot.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  The sun beat down as the group followed the highway on the sixth day of their journey. By Chase’s estimation, they were at about the two hundred
mile point, which seemed like excellent progress until he realized that still left two hundred miles to go. And he was out of pills, thanks to Molly.

  He couldn’t believe she’d thrown them away. He’d asked casually, once they were back on the road, so she wouldn’t yell at him more. It had been a mistake. He’d wanted to throttle her when she informed him matter-of-factly that she’d tossed away his precious pills back at the rest area. It was too far to go back, and Chase couldn’t think of a reason to suggest it without sounding like a total druggie, which she already suspected him to be.

  Not that he was a druggie. He could quit anytime. But his face hurt a lot and the pills worked wonders to dull the pain. They worked a lot better than the first-aid kit aspirin, which she had so helpfully suggested he try.

  They were also nearly out of the food they’d packed, which meant a trip into one of the towns soon. They’d so far done their best to avoid once heavily populated areas, only stopping at roadside motels or highway rest stops. If it were up to Chase, he’d stay far away from all former civilization for good. That way he could almost pretend that just off the next exit grandmothers sat on front-porch rocking chairs, sipping mint juleps and gossiping about their crazy neighbors. He could imagine that each morning businessmen in stuffy suits were shuffling into their Smart SUVs and heading to the offices where they’d be greeted by the sexy secretaries with whom they were secretly sleeping. Soccer moms were pushing babies in strollers, and children were screaming as they played tag in the park.

  He wanted to imagine that life had gone on and the whole plague was just a really long, really bad joke.

  But towns were the best place to find food if they couldn’t hunt game, and they hadn’t seen any animals along this stretch of road. So that afternoon when they came across a sign for the town of Paradise, he’d made his offer. They could wait for him over at the Motel 6 right off the exit and he’d go in and search for food. It was safer if he went in alone, just in case something was down there. He also imagined himself returning victorious, the conquering hero with his collected supplies, Molly’s smile as he presented her with a gourmet three-course meal. He’d fill her stomach with excellent things and make her grateful for bringing him along. That idea alone was worth facing the horror of the suburbs.

  That and the fact that he’d get to do some exploration. He wanted to find a hospital or something, because that would have more pills. At least a few, for until his face got better. Then he could wean himself off them gradually, so he wouldn’t be sick. He agreed with Molly that it wasn’t a great idea to be popping opiates while on the road, but at the same time, going cold turkey was going to be disruptive to their intense travel schedule.

  “I don’t like it,” Molly said, surveying the town from the highway. “Something seems off here. Maybe we should wait a bit.”

  “It’s fine,” Chase countered, mainly because he was itching so badly for more pills, his stomach clenching with need. That was the problem with being off drugs. You could feel everything ten times as intensely, and none of it was comfortable. “I don’t see anything down there.”

  “I know. I don’t, either. It’s just I have a bad feeling. I don’t know why.”

  “What, are you psychic as well as cyber?” he grunted.

  She blushed. He had a moment of embarrassment and shame. He hadn’t meant to hit below the belt.

  “Sorry,” he muttered. “It’s just…I don’t see what the big deal is. I’ll go down, find us some supplies then come right back. You all can stay in that Motel 6 right off the exit and I’ll meet you there.” He threw her what he hoped was a cocky, confident, non-desperate smile. “We’ll eat like kings to night!”

  “But the horses are exhausted from the trek,” she said, trying a different tack. “They need rest, too. And also to eat.”

  “It’s not far. I’ll walk.”

  She slumped her shoulders and he knew he’d won. His stomach burned with anticipation, and he wondered how far a hospital was off the exit ramp. He’d seen a sign for one a little ways back. Of course, he’d also take a pharmacy. Or someone’s house. Just a quick stop, then he’d get food and come back and no one would be the wiser that he’d added one extra thing to the grocery list.

  “Be careful, Chase,” Molly said. “Seriously.”

  As if she cared. The only reason she kept him around was that she didn’t want to have to deal with the children all by herself, and she didn’t want to abandon them either. She’d made it clear she wanted nothing more from him.

  He waved away her fears. “I was born careful, baby,” he said, psyching himself up to go. The false bravado sounded silly, even to his own ears. But really, what could happen? It was a town just like the one he’d left. The one in which he’d survived for six years. No problem.

  “All right, kids, I’m out,” he informed the group. “When I come back we’ll have a feast.”

  The kids cheered. Darla stepped forward. “Be careful, Chase,” she said, giving him a motherly look. It was odd, coming from a little girl.

  He ruffled her hair. “I will, I will,” he assured her. “You and Molly. Geez. Worry warts, both of you.”

  He said his good-byes and headed down the exit ramp toward the town. Looking around, he saw Paradise was a bigger city than they’d lived in back home. Not a Manhattan, obviously, but it did have its share of tall buildings. And he could see some kind of stadium in the distance. He remembered watching his beloved Carolina Panthers win the Super Bowl in 2025. Sad, there’d never be another game like that.

  He walked out onto the main road, wishing he had Molly’s ocular implants. She’d been able to access quite a few maps as they traveled, and thus they’d avoided some areas they thought would have a high likelihood of Others. She likely would have been able to point him to the nearest pharmacy. Of course, he hadn’t been exactly able to ask.

  His eyes fell on a small shop at the corner of an intersection, the only building on the street with a glass window that wasn’t shattered. In the window were pictures of beautiful pieces of jewelry. Chase thought about Molly, always fingering that piece of glass in her pocket when she thought he wasn’t looking. She was acting like an ice princess, but deep inside he believed she was as sentimental as he was, remembering their past. It was really too bad she was afraid to show it, afraid to be vulnerable. But she was afraid, and she lived each day hiding behind that thick wall she’d built for herself.

  A thought suddenly occurred to him. Maybe he could get her something, some small token to show her what she meant to him. To show his gratitude for letting them come along, even though they slowed her down. He didn’t think diamonds or jewels were appropriate, but perhaps there was something that would adequately demonstrate how he felt.

  Entering the store, he scanned the glass cases looking for just the right thing. A lot had been taken, but there were a few offerings that remained. He wanted something strong but delicate, just like her. And then he saw it: a small music box, covered in layers of dust and sitting on a shelf. He opened it and turned the knob. To his surprise, a hologram of a princess appeared—it kind of looked like a Disney princess, actually—twirling in a pirouette while the box played its little tune. Was the tune “It’s a Small World”?

  It was perfect. After all, where were they headed but the Magic Kingdom? And Molly was certainly the princess of his fairy tale—even if things hadn’t worked out quite right just yet. But maybe this gift would convince her that there was still time for a happily ever after.

  Tucking the box under his arm, he headed back outside. A strange feeling came over him. The street was totally quiet. He didn’t even hear any birds in the trees. Weird. And then he saw the footprint.

  He stared at it, long and hard, trying to figure it out. It looked fresh. It also didn’t look like a footprint of one of the Others. They usually shuffled, and this was clean, a perfect imprint. He could even see the Nike logo embedded in the sole.

  He drew in a breath. Were there humans alive in t
his town?

  Half of him wanted to turn around and run back to the kids, to get Molly and tell her the news. The other half said he should go and investigate these survivors himself. Maybe they had stashes of food. Maybe they had knowledge of other groups. Maybe they’d seen Molly’s father.

  He walked in the direction the footprint pointed, searching for Others but seeing none. But soon he came across something better: a small pharmacy, its door wide open.

  I should just keep walking, he scolded himself. Find the guy who made the footprint. Concentrate on my mission. I don’t need drugs.

  But he did. His body ached and itched and the pharmacy drew him with an almost irresistible tractor beam. Soon he found himself walking through the front door, his forehead and palms damp with sweat.

  The front of the store had something exciting: a ton of candy. Chase was surprised that it hadn’t been eaten already, and he wasn’t sure if it was all still good, but he knew that it would get a good reception when he returned to the kids. But as he glanced around to find some plastic bags to gather the booty up, he saw something else, just to the back of the store. The prescription counter.

  Rushing over to it, he scanned the racks. Allergy medicines, stool softeners, emergency contraception. The spot where the good stuff should have been—the painkillers—was all cleared out.

  Had Mr. Footprint already helped himself? Chase found himself wondering. He squeezed his hands into fists. It figured. The survivor he’d stumbled onto was just going to be competition. He wondered what he should do about that.

  “Looking for something, boy?”

  The scratchy male voice from behind him nearly made Chase jump out of his skin. He whirled, whipping out his knife. Sun shone through the glass storefront window, silhouetting the intruder. All Chase could tell was that he was big.

  Mr. Footprint, he presumed.

  “Stay where you are,” he said, trying to keep fear from filling his voice. “I’ve got a knife.”