“I love you, Dad.”
“Thanks for telling me,” he said, already slipping back into sleep.
• • •
Astrid’s plan in Goldsport was ludicrous—a whim, born of desperation. She knew that. But it was the best she could come up with, and in the end it worked. After all, no one had spent more time among the wicked than her, Hank, and Natalie. They’d all sensed that the turn was about to come—like sailors able to read a current that was invisible from the surface. That was why Hank made his move when he did. That was why Natalie knew what to do without anyone telling her. The searchers in their rubber bee suits didn’t realize what was happening until they were surrounded, their backs pressed against the greenway glass. And then it was too late—they hardly had a chance to raise their weapons before the wicked fell upon them.
It didn’t happen quickly. Hank stared at the floor of the quiet room, while Natalie covered her eyes and ears. Astrid could only bring herself to look at their feet through the glass—shuffling, scrambling, running. And falling. There were a few gunshots and some surprised squawking. A single bullet hit the wall of the quiet room, throwing out a halo of cracks. It looked like a snowball, thrown up against the glass.
Astrid opened the inner hatch, and the four of them stepped into the plaza. From outside, they could hear Henry Bushkirk laughing. The sound rang with impossible, joyous purity. It was hard not to feel happy for him.
“I hope none of them get hurt,” Natalie said. She meant, of course, the wicked people.
“Me too.”
Astrid, still barely able to walk, leaned on Natalie for support. Hank took Eva, holding her for only the second time in their lives. Together the four of them felt their way through the fog and across the shattered plaza. Grasses and young saplings had taken root in the sandy soil, curling around the fallen chunks of glass. Singers floated in the mist, casting bright rings of purple light around them. They sniffed out Hank as he passed, and descended to land upon his bee suit. They glowed there, like a string of lights wound about a Christmas tree.
Then the family put the plaza, and the rest of the ruined greenway, behind them. They passed into the woods and up the crescent hills. At the top they paused so that Astrid could rest in the shadow of Mother. The tank cannon was still aimed out at the north shore, as it had been for the past twenty years. It still looked, and smelled, exactly as Astrid remembered.
Eva cooed in Hank’s arms. She seemed taken by the singers perched on his suit, her arms flailing happily. The purple lights of her eyes reflected on the shining black veil of Hank’s bonnet. He looked from her, to Natalie, to Astrid. The three vexed women in his life.
“I’m going to try to deserve this,” he said.
“You’d better,” Astrid said. Then: “We’ll help you.”
In the far distance they heard one final gunshot. The wicked, having finished with the searchers, would soon come for them.
“We should probably get moving,” Astrid said.
“Where?”
“The searchers had a truck,” Natalie said.
“And food,” Hank added. “And medicine.”
“Is that right?”
“Yeah. I have a map.”
“Well. It’s an idea,” Astrid said. “Do either of you know how to drive?”
She’d meant it only lightheartedly, but Natalie answered her with total seriousness. “We can learn, Mom.”
“That we can,” Astrid agreed.
Hank pressed the baby into her arms and headed over to work on getting the gate open. They didn’t have the keys, but the big padlock was so rusted that it looked like it was made of old chocolate. Hank picked up a sturdy branch from the side of the road and began working it like a crowbar, trying to wedge the padlock open. Meanwhile, Natalie stepped a few paces back down the road, keeping a watch on the greenway below. In the distance they heard more sounds—the wicked, singing carols as they trickled through the greenway and slowly ascended the hill.
All this time Astrid rested at the base of the tank, holding Eva. She gazed up at the wall towering over them all. Concrete and steel, built with her grandfather’s money, if not his own two hands. This was Ronnie Gold’s legacy. Amblin’s legacy. Her legacy. A strange thought struck Astrid then—for as much time as she’d spent at the base of this wall, she’d never actually seen the other side of it. She didn’t even know what color the outside of the wall was painted. She’d left the sanctuary, of course, but never this way. And never completely. The wall, with its metal gate and razor wire, had always been there. Astrid was born beneath it. She’d grown tall under its shadow. When she and her family escaped Goldsport, the wall had followed them. It ringed Puffin Island just as surely as it did the greenway. Astrid had never, truly, gotten out from under it.
But she could. Hank could get out. Natalie could get out. Even her baby, her Eva, could get out. All it takes is one crack.
The singing was growing ever closer. Hank strained at the lock, but it wouldn’t give. Natalie went to help him, and together they pushed as hard as they could. And then, in an instant, the rusted metal snapped to pieces, and the gates swung open.
Epilogue
From the Diary of Amblin Gold
Dear book,
Hi, book. It’s me. It’s me, Amblin.
I lost you for a little while, book. I tried looking in the lighthouse, but you weren’t anywhere. It made me pretty angry. But then I remembered that Natalie threw you out of a window. I found you down on the rocks by the graveyard. I’m glad I found you again. I’ve been carrying you around for a little while now, but I haven’t had much time to talk.
So much has happened to me, book! Here’s a list that I made, starting at the beginning.
1. I went to live on Puffin Island for a little while.
2. I ate a lot of lobster and sometimes some crab and eggs.
3. Sometimes I ate other stuff, too, but mostly lobster and crab and eggs.
4. Also, I got to live in a big lighthouse!
5. And my daughter had a daughter.
6. I think she maybe even had a second one?
7. Then everybody left, and I was all alone.
8. Then I went home to Goldsport, and I wasn’t alone anymore.
Now that I think about it, eight things aren’t that many things. But still it feels like a lot to me.
I was really lonely on the island after everybody was gone. First Hank left me, and then Natalie left me, and finally Astrid left me. And Puffin Island sucks when you’re the only person on it. Natalie told me once that the puffins talk, but I think she was lying. Or else they only talk to her and not to me for some reason.
But I have good news!
A few days ago, some people came to visit me in a boat! They had beautiful yellow clothes that they wouldn’t let me touch. They told me that they were looking for their friends. They asked me if I had seen a woman named Miranda. I told them that I didn’t know anything about any Mirandas, but hi, I’m Amblin.
I used the knife on one of them. The other, I got with a rock.
Now I have a boat!
Having a boat is nice because now I’m in Goldsport. Everything here is different than I remember. Henry got SO OLD I CAN’T BELIEVE IT! And a lot of other people I used to know aren’t even alive anymore. But the good news, book, is that they said they saw my family. They saw my Astrid and her babies! Henry told me that they came by a few months ago, and that they left town through the big gate, up in the hills. Henry told me that he and some of the others tried to follow them, but that they got tired.
Book, I need you to believe me when I tell you this. I am NOT going to get tired. My family is out there somewhere. And I’m going to find them. I don’t care if I have to walk for a million years. I’m going to find them.
It’ll be so great when I do! Do you know why I think it’ll be great, book?
It’s because I love them.
Acknowledgments
Thank you Ellen Levine. Your support ove
r the last decade means the world to me. Thank you Caitlyn Dlouhy. Your belief in me and my work makes a sometimes-frightening business less so. I continue to learn from your wise edits, and my writing is so much stronger for the attention that you give it. Thank you Brett Finlayson and Calvin Hennick for being great readers, advisors, and friends.
Thank you Emily Rupp. Life was on the brink of turning upside-down as I finished this book, and you stepped in and righted it. Terhi and I will be forever grateful. Thanks also to so many close friends in Vietnam who gave support when we needed it. Thank you Nguyễn Thanh Huyền, Vũ Thị Thảo, Trương Thanh Miền, Trần Ngọc Hà, Pakawan O’Leary, and Michael O’Leary for taking such good care of our dear Onyx and Isabelle. Thank you Hoàng Vũ Huyền Trang for your advice, and friendship. Thank you Jack Cooper, Sundi Bonfiglio, and Nathan Bonfiglio for never allowing Terhi and I to feel alone out there. And thank you to all of my friends in the Office of Infrastructure in Kabul, Afghanistan, for welcoming me and for inspiring me.
And Terhi. Always Terhi. Thank you for being brave. Thank you for making me brave too.
About the Author
Alexander Yates is the author of the critically acclaimed adult novel Moondogs and the YA novels The Winter Place and How We Became Wicked, which he finished while working in Kabul, Afghanistan. He lives in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania. Visit him at alexanderyates.com.
Visit us at simonandschuster.com/teen
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A Caitlyn Dlouhy Book
Atheneum Books for Young Readers
Simon & Schuster, New York
Also by Alexander Yates
The Winter Place
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Text copyright © 2019 by Alexander Yates
Jacket illustration copyright © 2019 by Yau Hoong Tang
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Yates, Alex, 1982- author.
Title: How we became wicked / Alexander Yates.
Description: First edition. | New York : Atheneum, [2019] | “A Caitlyn Dlouhy book.” | Summary: “A viral disease called ‘the wickedness’ plagues the world, and sixteen-year-olds Astrid and Natalie are two of the only people immune. The girls live in separate, isolated communities, but recent encounters with wicked people link their stories in unexpected ways”—Provided by publisher.
Identifiers: LCCN 2018003651
ISBN 9781481419840 (hardcover) | ISBN 9781481419864 (eBook)
Subjects: | CYAC: Science fiction. | Virus diseases—Fiction. | Immunity—Fiction. | Survival—Fiction.
Classification: LCC PZ7.1.Y38 Ho 2019 | DDC [Fic]—dc23 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2018003651
How We Became Wicked Page 26