by Alan Janney
“I guess that don’t matter. Seeing as you kicked him out. Then you get rid of Dalton.”
“You know him too?”
“Dalton comes around. Think he’s a little sweet on me.”
I rest my elbows on my knees and my forehead in my hands. Miss Pauline seems like she’s everyone’s mother. Coming here was selfish. She already has enough on her plate, while I just run around making messes. “Thank you for letting me sleep here.”
“About to start dinner. Stay and eat. Skinny little ninãta.”
“I’ve taken too much of your time. I appreciate the offer.”
“Gonna push me away too?”
“No, I—”
“We both taking care of orphans. Maybe you and me, we need each other.”
My head is still in my hands and I admit, “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Lord Jesus, ain’t that the truth.”
“It’s that obvious?”
“You a baby, Miss Carmine. Still nothing but a newborn, but you been given the whole world to tend. How’s anyone going to do that?”
“Good question. I wish I knew.”
“Could start by not refusing help.” She grunts to her feet and turns on a burner which is connected to solar panels outside. “I pray every night. For you. Need all the help you can get.”
“I’m not sure I can trust their help.”
“Well. I won’t pretend to know. But seems to me moldy bread is better than no bread. To a starving woman.” She puts a pot of water on and starts chopping vegetables. Making soup? My stomach growls. “Heard you met Walter.”
I sniff. “He’s a real treat.”
“He used to be in Compton. One of the Chemist’s first men.” Her knife stops and she stares far off into the cabinets. “Walter used to abuse the woman. Call me the Hag. Come here, Hag.” She shudders and resumes cutting. “I pray for Walter too. Don’t know it’ll do any good. Glad we’re rid of him.”
“We’re not rid of Walter yet, I’m afraid. I’m working on it.”
“Nice pretty girl like you? Better leave him to the Jackson boy. I’m no sexist. I just like you in one piece.”
“Yeah,” I say, and now I’m sadly staring far off into the cabinets too. “The Jackson boy.”
- Four -
It’s eight at night when I return to the tower.
Dalton slung a hammock outside the lobby doors. He stares impassively at me over the Baldacci novel in his fist. I evicted him from the tower, but not the Kingdom. He probably wouldn’t have left if I had.
I walk inside without speaking to him. Tomorrow perhaps. The residual embers of my anger still burn right now. Every week, he said. Every week he sent reports to the Outlaw. Ugh.
He thinks I’m weak. But if I’m weak then we’re all going to die. I can’t be soft. I can’t fail. I promised.
My Devotee is overjoyed and relieved at my return, like he worried I’d never come back. Big baby.
Inside my bedroom I examine the reflection in my mirror. I’m still pretty. Why didn’t the Outlaw like me? I remove the hair clips and store them carefully; I might wear them again. Kick off the boots; will never wear again. Hang up the tunic: love it, might wear again tomorrow. Strip out of the jeans and lay them on the bed next to a few outfits Kayla left. She removed the piles of girly clothes but left some I might like. She wasn’t wrong. I could be convinced to wear these. Especially this white one. All of tops are off-the-shoulder. Are capris in style? Could I wear them with shorts?
I’m wearing UnderArmour spandex shorts and a black tank top. Perhaps my underwear needs an update too. There must be more to lingerie than activewear.
I’m about to remove the red silk ribbon from my knees and feet when I realize a man is standing behind me. He says, “Cute outfit. Black and red are my colors.”
He’s on me in a flash before I can hit him. Before I can call for help. My arms are pinned and he covers my mouth. He’s made of iron! I see the Outlaw in the mirror, his red mask, his lips at my ear.
He’s wearing the cologne I bought him.
“Katie. It’s only me. Don’t scream. Wouldn’t do you much good anyway. You fired your guard, right?”
I bite hard into the flesh of his hand. He doesn’t flinch; it’s like chewing leather.
“I got an idea. Let’s go on a date. Wanna? I know this great place.”
What?! I duck my head and jerk it backwards, crushing his nose. Again, into his mouth. Each time earning a sick crunch and a groan.
“Mmmmpfgh!” I scream.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he mutters. Before I know it, he’s grabbed my hand and we’re climbing the outside of Olympic. Actually, he’s climbing, and I’m dangling and scrabbling for hand and footholds. It’s like he’s glued to the building. Far below, the ground swings dizzily. I half climb and half get hauled upwards.
“You idiot. Let go,” I hiss. “Let go of my hand. Immediately.”
“Playing hard to get? It won’t work.”
“You’re not allowed to be here. And how on earth are you climbing so fast? I can’t climb like this.”
“One of my oddities. Almost there.”
The top two floors of Olympic are in bad shape. The observation deck was hit by a rocket and the stairs destroyed months ago. He pulls me to the south side. I wish he’d kidnapped me before I took off the pretty tunic.
“Let go,” I say.
“Does anything happen when our skin touches?”
“What do you mean?” I jerk free.
“Does your headache go away?”
“I don’t get headaches,” I lie.
Yes I do.
“Yes you do. Do they go away when we touch?”
“No,” I lie again. Katie Lopez is surging through my limbs, threatening to take control. Katie wants to kiss him, and I want to garrote him. “You were banished from the city. Why are you back?”
“Trying to get to first base.”
“Be serious.”
“I am. I miss you. But also, I need to find out if the disease has broken your brain.”
“A waste of your time. I’m more sane than most.”
He gingerly touches his nose and wrinkles it. Was he a normal man I’d probably have driven the nasal bone into his brain. “Oooooouch. You’ve gotten stronger.”
“I’m not Katie Lopez.”
“I can tell. You’re taller and your boobs are bigger.”
I hit him with the back of my hand. It’s like striking a statue. “You’re not allowed to talk about my body.” But I’m pleased he noticed.
No. No I’m not. What is wrong with me.
“I meant it as a compliment. You used to be short. You look great. Healthy. Last time I saw you, you were waking up from a coma. Not healthy.”
I only now realize he’s set up candles everywhere and there’s two chairs for us to sit on. This would be romantic if…you know…if….something. If I didn’t loathe him. The stars look photoshopped. His cologne smells so good that my first instinct is to bite him.
“Don’t get the wrong idea.” He holds his hands up, palms out. “The candles aren’t here for seduction. I wanted lights and you have no power.”
“This is not a date.”
“Relax. I have no interest in dating you.”
“You…why not?” The questions slips out before I consider it. This is going sub-optimally. Humiliating. He pulls off his red mask and stuffs it into a pocket. His hair falls into place around his eyes. Maybe I don’t hate that length after all. He’s beautiful. I hate him. I change the subject before he can answer, “You were there when I woke up?”
He sits and indicates I do the same. I don’t. Instead I make a show of unwinding compression silk from my knees.
He asks, “What’s with the ribbons?”
“They palliate my joint pain.”
“Which joints?”
“The majority.”
He watches with interest. “That’s the virus. Happens to some of us. I could
hear your bones grinding in your sleep.”
“Do yours ache also?”
“No. Blue-Eyes has bad bones, I know. She can’t run.”
I could hit him; his guard isn’t up. I could retreat, but he might catch me. I could call for help, but do I need it? He doesn’t appear to be aggressive.
Maybe I could sit in his lap.
I clear my throat and ask, “What do you mean you heard bones grinding?”
“During your coma.”
“You were in attendance?”
“How much do you remember? Of your awakening?”
I shake my head. “Nothing. My memory starts several days after. In a Walmart, I think.”
“You can hold my hand.”
“You can keep dreaming.”
“My headache was terrible for the first eight months. I bet yours is too. Holding my hand will help.”
“No thank you.” But maybe. Just to defy General Brown. I sit and ball up the silk from my knees. Before I can argue he’s taken my foot and is unwrapping the short section of ribbon around my ankle. My body relaxes at his touch. I think his fingers are trembling.
He’s nervous. Precious boy. I’ve loved him since I was nine. He was a grade older than me.
“Yes, I was in attendance. When you woke,” he says.
“Then you abandoned me. I remember that. I was alone.”
“I didn’t abandon you. And you weren’t alone. You were surrounded by Variants. It was freaky, like they coronated you in your sleep.”
“We refer to them as Guardians.”
“Whatever. They were all over that hospital.”
“Were you and Katie still dating at the time?”
“Yes. We were dating.” He looks up from my foot and catches my gaze. I wish he wouldn’t do that, it’s terribly off-putting. Katie Lopez is happy and rattling on about candles and fire and her pleasure makes me blush. I hope he doesn’t notice.
I ask, “Where’d you go? After I woke up?”
“To a hospital in Arizona. I think. I’m fuzzy on the details.”
“Why?”
He chuckles, and it’s a nice easy sound. “Because you broke my back.”
I sit up straight and he drops my foot. “No I didn’t.”
“Yes you did. You woke up and panicked or something. You hit me and threw me from a third floor window.”
My hand is over my mouth. It’s so bizarre that I almost laugh. “Is that why you limp?”
He frowns, affronted. “It’s a tiny limp. More of a strut. But yes. Doctors said I’d never walk again.”
“I heard about the broken back, but didn’t realize… So I broke your back and you’re still in love with me?”
Oh no. Ugh. Another sentence I desperately want back. My mouth is out of control. He sits back in his chair with a cagey grin on his face. “Who says I’m in love with you?”
“Everyone. Sorry, I shouldn’t have…I should just shut up.”
“I’m not in love with you.”
“Why not?”
“I was in love with Katie Lopez. You say you’re not her.”
“That’s right.” Katie’s gone quiet and the silence in my head is deafening. “I’m not her. We’re different. Do you know why my breasts enlarged? Why I’m taller? I’ve read about the virus online but it doesn’t satisfactorily clarify anything.”
“Yeah we’re a secretive bunch. Not much is known. I bet if you asked your Guardians you’ll find the growth happened to some of them too. It was explained to me that the disease enhances our natural assets. Guys get taller. Harrier. Girls get prettier. Your friend Kayla smells better. Stuff like that. You’ve always been athletic and pretty. Now perhaps even more so.”
He thinks I’m pretty. But I don’t care.
“Were you and Katie a good couple?”
“The best. She was everything.”
“What was she like?”
He takes a long time answering. This has to be surreal and uncomfortable for him, talking to his ex-girlfriend who can’t remember him. Or if she can, won’t admit it.
“Katie was the one truly good person in a high school full of selfish, overly-rich, vapid consumers. The rest of us had our flaws, but not her. We loved her. She was the fire we all gathered around for warmth. Maybe she still is,” he says and he indicates the surrounding city. The surrounding eighty-thousand people. “You may not remember yourself, but you haven’t changed much. You’re still strong. Determined. Emotional. Intelligent.”
Katie is crying. I think most of her higher mental processes are dormant except emotion; she runs on pure feeling. “I’m not the same.”
“Yes you are. If you don’t remember then I’ll be the judge. This is no empty tabula rasa I see. You are Katie Lopez, hardened into a warrior.”
I blink the tears away. Her moods must be affecting mine. “Katie sounds magical. But I’m not her. I’m full of anger. Hate. Ambition. I’ve killed…a lot of people. I almost killed General Brown today when I found out he betrayed me.”
“You’ve been through hell. You probably have clinical abandonment and trust issues. You were betrayed by everyone you knew.”
“Who?”
“Me, for starters. I left you in the care of a woman who betrayed you. She sold you to the Chemist. You watched me sail away, and you told me then you didn’t think we’d see each other again. You watched your friend Cory die. Then your friend Tank abandoned you. Then you spent a day with the Chemist, knowing full well he was going to operate on you. So I think you’ve earned some trust issues.”
We’re silent a moment, letting the words and emotions fade. I don’t know how to feel about him. He seems genuine, and Katie adores him. As a general rule I don’t trust anyone, but there’s something to be said for unconditional love. He’s right about the headaches; they disappear when we touch.
I say, “You don’t feel as strong as you did the other night.”
“What do you mean?”
“In the Starlight Bowl. Your presence was overwhelming. But here, and at Dodgers Stadium, it’s tolerable.”
“You spied on me?”
“Of course. You’re a threat.”
“No I’m not.”
“Yes. You are. Somehow you’re masking your biological output, but that only changes how effectively I feel the danger. How do you do that?”
“Hard to explain. I practiced for months. I can control how strongly the disease broadcasts itself, basically. Like flexing a muscle. I’m doing it now so you don’t take my head off.”
“How long can you control it?”
“Good question.”
“Show me.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
He grins. “That’s more of a second date activity.”
“Who says I want to go on a second date?”
“I got nothing better to do than kidnap you every night.”
“Release your grip on the disease. I want to see if I can control myself.”
He locks eyes with me, deep contact. The air around him seems to shift, and his bioluminescence increases. I feel the heat off his skin. The hackles on my neck rise and my nails dig into the couch. Bad idea. He is a danger. A wolf in sheep’s clothing.
“Do you see?” he asks.
“Yes. I see.”
“And?”
“And I want you to leave. Even if you love me, even if you’re a good-looking guy, this can’t work. You repel me.”
He nods his head, mouth a grim line. I can tell he’s bottling up his scent again, locking away the disease as tightly as possible. But it’s too late. I feel Guardians below us awaken. They know he’s here. We don’t have much time.
Quickly, I ask, “Why is everyone coming here? You, Walter, the Shooter?”
“Walter wants to kill you and take the Guardians. The Shooter and I come for a different reason.”
“Which is?”
“We think you’re worth rescuing.”
“I don’t need to be rescued. I d
on’t need you.”
“Katie—”
“I have an army of Guardians. Men and women who follow me. I have a Devotee who sees to my every need, even romantic needs.” The words sting him, as I intended. I want to hurt him, drive him away. I don’t know why and I can’t stop. I want to finish talking, but my mouth rebels. “You are not necessary. I can do this. Alone.”
“Your Guardians are climbing the walls. Can you feel them?”
I snap, “Of course I can. They can’t tolerate you. Just as I can’t tolerate you.”
“Katie—”
“It’s not personal. It’s biological. And it’s why you must remain outside of our boundary.”
Guardians reach our floor and begin pouring over the lip of the destroyed observation deck. They’re driven mad by his disease. Dozens of them, nearly feral.
The Outlaw doesn’t seem concerned. He stands and points at them. Only a finger. “Wait.”
He doesn’t shout but the strength of his voice crushes me. And crushes the oncoming horde. The amplitude is pitched to establish dominance. They react like they’ve been struck with a firehose. His body seems to swell, like he gets taller when he’s angry.
He controls Variants with his voice. Wow.
He is hurt. I see it in his eyes. I was too harsh. This man has been nothing but kind. I glance at the Guardians and see their hate, and witness myself in the frenzy. I responded the same as they do; too violent. Wasn’t I just telling Dalton I wouldn’t give in to urges?
“Chase, I—”
There is a pop. A snap and sizzle of electricity. Chase drops, struck down by an electroshock weapon. Who?? I search the crowd and see several tasers, brought by warriors who’ve battled him before. He tries to rise while his body twitches, but the spell he cast over the Guardians vanishes. They surge.
“No!” I cry.
Most don’t listen. They’re lost to insanity. Chase is attacked, beaten, and lifted over their heads.
“Stop!” I roar. Finally I have their attention, but it’s too late. He is launched far off the tower by strong arms. I scramble to the side, searching the black. He’s gone. He’ll die. My heart drops. No one can survive that…
No. There! Against the dark sky a shape streaks away from our tower, stars winking out as he passes. The Outlaw soars on wings in a majestic arc, curving north.