Taking in a deep breath, I sat back on my heels to peer up into the face of yet another child whose mother had been taken by Cecalitrin. Taken… by Henry.
“We have more in common than you think. I know what made your mother sick. I know why she died.”
Back on the couch with the dog now at her feet, Georgia inspected the bite mark on my hand.
“Cecalitrin made your mother do that, to her own baby?”
I couldn’t help but notice Thomas flinch. His hands had curled into fists and his jaw tensed like he might hit something.
“Yes,” I said.
“I want to kill him,” Georgia said. “I don’t mean ‘psycho killer with a machine gun’ or anything like that. But I am going to find a way to give Henry Lowen a taste of his own medicine. Of that, I can promise you.”
She got up, took two cookies, and left the room, leaving Dan to stare off after her in awe.
“Well, she’s gonna have to get in line,” Thomas said, rising to stand before the fire. He was shaking with fury. “I’ve got first dibs. What I wouldn’t do to get my hands around Henry’s neck.”
I moved next to him. “Thomas, no more talk about killing, okay? My heart can’t handle it.”
There was a soft knock at the door, but Thomas didn’t seem to hear it. As Dan padded down the hall, Thomas turned to face me, his hands reaching for my shoulders.
“The more I learn about your life, the more I want to drag you away from here and force you to leave it all behind. Leave them behind. It’s all I can do to sit idly by.”
He was staring so hard I had to turn away. Dan was muttering to whoever was at the front door. I turned my head in that direction, but Thomas grabbed my chin.
“Look at me, Kaya,” he said firmly.
He wasn’t giving me any other choice.
“Let me take you away from here.”
Dan was yelling for Georgia. “It’s that reporter chick again to see you. You might as well come and talk to her.”
Thomas was so focused it might as well have been only me and him on the planet. Zombies could have been at the front door, and I doubted he would notice.
“What do you think has changed in the last few days?” I asked.
He gulped hard. The front door was opening, hinges squeaking. “Everything. When you were sick, do you remember any of it?” he asked.
“Well of course I do.”
“Who did you call out for?” his eyes eagerly searched mine. “Whose name did you say when you were so sick all you could do was lay there? Who was it you wanted next to you so badly that you practically screamed his name?”
“I was feverish, I don’t r-remember.”
“Yeah, you do,” he said, his tone making me want to pull away and run.
Whoever had come in the front door was standing not far from us now and clearing their throat. It was so strangely familiar that Thomas finally took notice. His hands dropped to his sides when a woman, polished and stunning with auburn hair piled up on her head and tall body draped in a pant suit, shook her head at us in annoyance.
“Kaya,” she said, hands on her hips. “Does no one working for your maniac father know what you look like?”
I couldn’t believe who I was seeing. Breaking away from Thomas, I practically fell on my face stumbling forward at a million miles an hour. I threw myself into strong farm-girl arms that tightened around me affectionately, and I couldn’t hold back the tears. She was here. And real. And I was unable to let go of my friend—my beautiful, heavily covered in makeup friend.
“Marlene,” I breathed.
I could feel her smile. “Ya. I missed you too, dumbass.”
The last half hour of the drive back to Louisa took forever. The truck was low on gas, but I didn’t dare stop in town where the cops were fueling up, too. I was on fumes, coasting downhill and feeling relieved when the familiar valley opened around me. With the sun going down in my rearview mirror and sleep tugging at my eyes, I kept driving, motivated by holding that little girl in my arms.
Through the snow, Louisa barreled out the front door toward me, wearing her blue princess dress, with Brutus close behind. Scooping her up and holding her tiny body next to mine released our tears. For a long while, I kneeled in the front yard of Seth’s home, not caring about the snow melting beneath my knees, doing nothing but listening to Louisa breathe.
“Please don’t leave me again,” she said after a long while.
I made a vow I hoped to keep. “I promise, I’ll never leave you again.”
While Regan and Ellis took care of Seth’s body—the details of which I did not want to know—I read books to Louisa. Crawling into bed next to her, surrounded by plush toys and a very out-of-sorts Brutus, my mind drifted to Luke. I couldn’t do anything for him but read story after story to his little sister and care for her the way he’d want me to. When I turned the page in a book of dinosaurs, Louisa stopped my hand and asked about him, and I told her he and Kaya were on holidays. Then she asked about Seth, and I told her he had gone away for a very long time. Maybe even for forever. She grew quiet, her tiny fingers tracing a picture of a baby triceratops when she finally said to me, “I’ll look after Brutus for him. I’ll be the bestest mommy, just like you are to me, Lisa. I’ll never leave him either.”
I knew now without a doubt what I had to do.
I put the address I’d found on Seth’s body out of my mind and absolved all thoughts of responsibility to Luke. I was a mom now, and that had to be my priority. Me, Louisa, and Brutus the dog were a family.
“We’ve been holed up in here for eight days,” Oliver said, fingers digging in to the arms of an overstuffed recliner. “If I have to eat another granola bar or stare at your sorry face a minute longer, I think I’ll explode.”
“There are no more granola bars,” I said dismally.
We were reeling from yet another botched attempt to leave the room. The first time we had made it back to the gate, Oliver’s code didn’t work to unlock it, and we had to come rushing back. Today’s attempt at prying the locked gate open was foiled when the floor thundered with approaching boots. Now, our nerves were fried, our stomachs were sticking to our spines, and our positive pep talk policy had expired.
“I guess we’re scaling the walls. Might as well start gathering up the sheets to tie into knots.”
Oliver’s chin pressed into his neck. “Have you looked outside… looked down? I mean—”
“I’m kidding, Oliver.”
He relaxed. “Oh. Sorry. Just need some real food,” he mumbled.
I thought I heard him say something else, but realized the keypad on the door was beeping. Someone was coming into the room, and we still hadn’t barricaded the door.
Oliver bolted upright. We both headed for Kaya’s room, but had to stop and crouch behind Stephan’s bookcase instead when it was clear we wouldn’t make it. I got on my hands and knees and Oliver pressed himself flat against the many spines of Stephen King novels. Holding our breath, we waited for the onslaught of guards—fully expecting confrontation and to be no match against them with our weapons made from sharpened toothbrushes and spoons.
But there were no guards. Just the rattle of a cleaning cart and the slim outline of one person, and she was singing. Oliver arched an eyebrow in question.
“It’s a maid,” I mouthed to him.
A feather duster was swiped over the coffee table, hearth, and the top of the piano by a young girl. She made her way to the counter that housed the small fridge and sink, and when she noticed all the empty food wrappers, her singing stopped—but only for a second. Her actions then became rushed. She was collecting the garbage, and her song grew louder.
Lie low, lie low, you’ve nowhere to go… just wait, just wait, we’ll tell you when it’s safe.
Was it a warning? Or a Disney song?
From under a stack of linens on her cart, the maid pulled out a silver tray and placed it in the fridge. Her song repeated as she began fumbling with small paper b
oxes. Getting on her hands and knees, she placed them along the baseboards beneath the counter, and then unexpectedly, her eyes met mine. She saw me, plain as day, but just got back to her feet and pushed the cart toward the door.
“Guard. I’m all done in here. Let me out,” she said.
The door squeaked open. The cart went out with the maid. The lock beeped.
“Why was she in here?” I asked when enough time had passed before we both tentatively moved back into the middle of the room.
“Mice,” Oliver said.
I was at the door, pressing my ear up against it and hearing nothing. “Mice?”
“Yup. The whole building is crawling with them. They keep putting these glue boxes in the rooms to catch them.”
He was holding one the maid had put on the floor, and I involuntarily shivered. I hated mice, just as much as I hated spiders and millipedes. “Did you hear the song she was singing? She saw me plain as day. Looked me right in the eyes as if she was fully expecting to see someone—”
“Holy shit!”
My heart practically stopped at Oliver’s outburst. I turned to see him by the fridge holding the silver tray left there by the maid, and I was fairly sure there were tears in his eyes.
“Pancakes. Luke, it’s pancakes! Two big plates of ‘em with maple syrup, scrambled eggs, and hash browns!”
I rushed to Oliver, half expecting him to fall to his knees and praise the Lord Almighty for his favorite foods. I patted him on the shoulder, knowing his joy wasn’t just because of pancakes, it was the relief of knowing there was someone in the estate on our side. We weren’t in this alone.
* * *
“It’s gotta be someone in the security office. That’s the only reason we haven’t been caught on camera and there haven’t been guards searching this room daily.”
Oliver was peeking out between the curtains at the dark sky.
“Lucky us.” I patted my stomach, now blissfully full.
“So what now then, Luke? Do we sit and wait for instructions? Hope that maid comes back with more food? It just doesn’t seem right to do nothing.”
“We’re trapped anyway, so I might as well beat your ass at cards for a couple of days. If there is no change after that, then yeah, we’re scaling the walls.”
“Not in a million years will I hang over the edge of this balcony. I’d rather eat dust and die in a pool of my own self-pity and stubbornness.”
“Well, you’ll be doing that alone.”
Oliver sighed and let the curtain fall back into place. “I knew you weren’t kidding. You’re crazy enough to do that, aren’t ya?”
Being high up didn’t bother me, and I liked the rush of going down. “That’s how I got out of here the first time. Through that door in the garden.”
“You jumped?”
Hunger had shrunk a few of Oliver’s brain cells.
“No,” I said, stifling a laugh. “I had gear on the other side.”
Oliver settled back into his favorite chair. “When was that?” he asked.
Hadn’t I told him about the night I snuck in? “Kaya’s eighteenth birthday. I posed as a waiter. Wandered through the whole place until I found this room.”
“Oh right,” he said absently, picking at his fingernails.
“I thought I’d been caught when you came after Kaya in the garden.”
Oliver’s forehead creased, puzzled. “You were in the garden? The night of her eighteenth?”
“Uh, yeah. I just told you, that’s how I got out.”
Something seemed to click in place in Oliver’s head. “She was different after that night. I could feel it. But the whole time I thought it was because of… me.”
“Oh?” I was intrigued. “Yeah, that was the first time I met her. Although at the time I didn’t know who she was, I just knew that she—”
I stopped.
“Go on,” Oliver said.
“Uh, this is still kinda weird talking to you about her.”
He nodded. “Yeah, no kidding. But whatever. Keep talking. You knew that what?”
I swallowed hard, remembering how the green gown matched her eyes, how it fit her body, how she smiled at me the very first time and what she said.
“I knew that—” A lump grew in my throat. “She was the person I wanted to give the world to. What I wanted to fight for.”
“You knew that right away?” Oliver’s face twisted with disbelief.
“Without a doubt.”
“Huh.” Oliver pondered this a moment. “So, it was love at first sight. That’s essentially what you’re saying.”
“I hadn’t really thought of it that way. But yeah. I guess so.”
He laughed and slapped his leg. “That’s ridiculous.”
I was completely taken aback. “What?”
“Yeah. Ridiculous. Totally. You can’t fall in love with someone you’ve known for minutes.”
“And why not? Are there rules? If so, no one told me about them.”
Oliver sounded like a hundred-year-old man. “Because love has to mature. It takes time. It’s not instant.”
Now I was the one to laugh; how would he know how I felt? “Then what would you call it?” I said, staring him down. “And how would you know if you’ve never experienced it? I am living proof that love at first sight is a thing. Now, I don’t really care if you believe it or not but let me tell you that it’s the most real thing that has ever happened to me. Without any doubt, without any reservations or hesitations, I knew when I saw her that I loved her.”
Oliver wasn’t having it. “That is as unbelievable and corny as one of those chick romance novels. I mean, I’m not doubting an attraction, but insta-love? That just doesn’t happen, Luke.”
“Or, is it as plausible and possible as a science fiction novel? You know, just because you haven’t experienced it doesn’t mean it’s not real. You can’t see the air we breathe, but it’s there. Dig where I’m coming from?”
Oliver cleared his throat, the smile disappeared from his face, and he wrung his hands. “Or how ‘bout this: maybe it’s just easier to tell yourself that it’s not possible, than to realize you had it in your hands and let it slip away.”
He was talking about himself and what he had with Kaya. I considered putting my hands over my ears when he continued.
“I might have thick skin, but my heart laid bare before you is vulnerable. Tread lightly or not at all,” he said.
I stifled a laugh. “What did those pancakes have in them? Whose poetry are you reciting?”
He shrugged his shoulders as his mood plummeted. “I dunno. Poe? Joyce? No one? Who cares.”
Sad brown eyes met mine from across the room, and if I could have sunk into the couch and disappeared, I would have. It was like looking at a wounded puppy.
“What are you going to do when this is over?” I asked, needing to get his mind onto something other than Kaya and thus re-instating the positivity policy. “When we get out of here—and notice how I said when—what’s on the agenda?”
Oliver shook his head and seemed to clear away the thoughts that had been clouding up his eyes. “I haven’t given it any thought, really. This is all I’ve known since my parents… well, you know, died.”
I did know, and I wished I didn’t. Oliver reliving that nightmare when he was sick would stick with me forever. “I thought you’d probably be off hunting down the guy that did it,” I said offhandedly, wishing I could light the fireplace—the room was so cold.
“Well, I would love to do that, but I have no idea who it was,” Oliver said, putting his feet up on the coffee table.
I was confused. “Yeah ya do.”
“What do you mean?”
“Uh, you told me who did it back in that motel room.”
Oliver leapt to his feet, wild-eyed. “I did what?”
“You told me,” I repeated, unsure why he suddenly seemed like he might yank my thoughts out through my ears.
“What did I say? I know I saw the whole t
hing, but I’ve blocked it out. I spent my childhood erasing every single moment of that evening from my mind, and as an adult I couldn’t get it back. Luke, what did I tell you?”
The name, spoken in the dead of night in Oliver’s feverish little-boy voice, would forever haunt me. I could hear it now and picture the torment in his eyes when he told the man to stop stabbing his mama.
“Anderson Manning,” I said. “You told me that Anderson Manning killed your family.”
I didn’t realize a black man could become so pale, and then fill back up with a color that could only be described as rage.
“I’m guessing that now you have an agenda once we’re outta here?” I asked, very carefully.
He gave his neck a crack to one side, then the other. “Put it this way, if we don’t have a way out of here real soon, I’ll start tying the sheets together.”
Nonsensical yapping was eating up the precious silence. Somehow, we were at the top of Mount Ridiculous and diving at breakneck speed into Lake Stupid. Everyone was throwing ideas around on how to get Luke and Oliver out of the estate; climb the walls and break in… overtake the guards… fly in overhead and drop down onto the roof…
I couldn’t take it any longer. “We aren’t in a James Bond movie for God’s sake!”
That shut them up. Good. To heck with Thomas and his machismo, Kaya and her complete lack of regard for her personal safety, Dan with nothing but insanity in his every word, and Georgia, so smart yet so dumb with the worst ideas of all.
“What do you suggest then, Marlene?” she said. “Got anything? Or are you just gonna sit there and judge.”
I had the strangest feeling this girl was jealous of me, which was satisfyingly weird. I’d left on the makeup covering my birthmark, so she still hadn’t seen my purple face. Maybe I would uncover it and glare at her. Make her squirm a little.
Kaya shot me a look that said, ‘play nice.’
I put on my thinking cap, tugging it down hard over my ears. “All I know is that we can’t fight an inferno with a watering can. We have no firepower—” I nodded in Kaya’s direction, “—only bargaining power.”
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