Domino Falls (19 page)

Terry came closer. “Hey, are you shaking? Here, Kendra.” He pulled a thin brown blanket from the bed and draped it over her shoulders. The blanket smelled like it hadn't been washed since Freak Day, but it felt perfect because he had given it to her.

“What happened?” Terry prodded.

Kendra held up her palm as if Terry might
see
the feeling she'd brought back with her from touching the wall. She felt marked now. Terry only peered at her, confused, so Kendra hid her palm inside the blanket.

“Nothing I can describe,” she said. “It's just . . . I got a very funny feeling there. The way Wales kept looking at me . . . Something's not right, Terry. I know it. The DVD player was showing my dream—exactly.”

Terry looked concerned. She must sound crazy to him. “Did you see those missing girls?” he said, trolling for useful information.

Kendra shook her head. Terry was so much taller that she had to upturn her face to see his eyes. They were standing nearly close enough to touch, but Terry had never seemed farther away. What could she say to reach him?

“It felt like freaks inside,” she said.

Terry's eyes narrowed. “Where?”

“Everywhere,” she said. “It felt like freaks all over his damned ranch.”

“Did you smell anything? Rotten oranges?”

She thought for a moment. “No. Nothing.”

“See?”

Kendra shook her head. “No. I didn't say I smelled flowers but not freaks. I said I smelled
nothing,
as if there was some kind of odor-eater working overtime. Maybe one of those ozone generators or something.”

Terry struggled to make sense of her, sighing when he failed. His eyes looked pitying instead of intrigued. He thought she'd had a nervous breakdown too, and she hadn't even told him about the loud noise, or how the floor had seemed to shake.

How often did crazy people realize they were crazy?

Terry slipped his hands inside the blanket to rub her shoulders above her jacket. When his warm lips touched hers, she knew she would stop trying to explain. For those seconds, Wales's ranch didn't exist.

“I'm not going to let anyone hurt you, Kendra,” Terry said when the kiss ended. “Don't worry so much. We're safe. Let's go get some chow.”

And kissed her again.

Her eyes fell closed, as if she were asleep on her feet.

His kiss carried her away.

Sonia left her room in such a hurry that she almost ran into Piranha on the
way out. Her face drooped into a guilty frown.

Piranha hadn't seen Sonia with eye makeup on since the early days of camp, before the freaks, when she'd routinely sashayed past him to make sure he noticed her. He'd forgotten how dark mascara framed her eyes and made them leap to bright life.

But she hadn't dressed up her eyes for him.

“How was it?” he said, trying to sound neutral.

“Good.”

A long silence wrapped around them. The doorknob was still in Sonia's hand, the door cracked open an inch, but she slowly pulled it closed. He'd seen in a glance that the room was empty, but Sonia wasn't inviting him in.

“Thought we'd talk,” Piranha said.

Sonia snorted, as if to hide a laugh. He knew what she was thinking: after they started hanging out at camp, she'd cornered him from time to time saying,
Can't we talk? What do we call this?
He'd told her to play it cool, not to push so hard. He'd punished her by ignoring her for a day or two afterward, and she'd always come back as if she had to apologize. After Freak Day, she'd stopped asking to talk.

“Since when, Chuck?”

“You're right.” Piranha's head screamed at him to keep his dignity and walk away. But he couldn't. “Where you headed so fast?”

“Trying to get to town before dinner shuts down.”

“They didn't feed you at the Big House?”

Sonia's eyes flashed. “Oh, there was plenty! Fruit. Little bitty sandwiches. Egg rolls, even. But I was so busy taking it all in, I didn't eat much. So now I'm hungry.” Her voice dared him to say another word about the ranch.

“Then I'll walk with you,” Piranha said. “It's getting dark.”

Sonia sighed, impatient. He followed her eyes to the motel's driveway, where two Gold Shirts were waiting at the edge of the road, smoking cigarettes. They were young, close to her age. “I met a couple of guys who said they'd walk with me.”

The alarm panel in Piranha's hindbrain blared loud and bright red. He didn't know how he'd come to this crossroads so fast, but he had lost her. His anger was like a cloud of gasoline vapor: one wrong word might ignite it.

“Let me walk you instead?” He was careful to phrase it as a question.

Sonia sighed. “Piranha, look, I don't think—”

Not here,
he thought. Not on the second-level balcony of a Motel 6 in the plain view of every camper in the parking lot and bored spies through the windows. Not when he didn't have anywhere else to go.

“I thought I was going blind,” he said. “That's why I was a jerk. I was scared.”

“All you had to do was trust me,” she said. “You know it's not just that.”

But Piranha didn't know, so he sighed with frustration. He and Sonia had weathered the worst time of their lives together, back when neither of them had anyone else. Now she was breaking away, an ice cap melting. She could barely look him in the eye.

When she began walking toward the stairs to the first level, Piranha didn't follow until she beckoned him. He walked behind her in silence. The road was flat, but the walk felt steep. He couldn't see a star in the sky beyond the fog.

“Let me talk to my friends,” she said.

Downstairs, he hung back to give her the space with the Gold Shirts. One of them turned to give Piranha a glare. Piranha fought the urge to flip him the bird.

In the parking space nearest Piranha, a man was cooking a foul-smelling stew from God knew what scraps. Piranha wasn't sure why, but many of the newbies avoided group dinner, especially if they didn't have children, maybe for fear of imposing too much. Maybe for fear of something else. The old man's bundled belongings were piled in a cart, quickly replaced if he moved them. He was always ready for a quick escape.

“She's good as gone,” the man said, nearly under his breath.

“Excuse me?” Piranha said.

The old man met his eyes, but only for a blink. “If she's got an eye on the Golden Boys. Nothing you can do about it except keep out of their way.”

“Mind your business,” Piranha said, even when he knew he should be thanking him.

The man grinned and chuckled, exposing a jagged hole where his front tooth was missing. His face was sun-broiled to shoe leather. “Fine by me. When you're back out on the road—or worse—don't consider it a mystery.”

Piranha watched while the Gold Shirts turned to make their way toward town, without Sonia. He remembered the guy trying to see his daughter at dinner that first night, and the mechanic's family worried about a missing girl. Now a warning about the Gold Shirts. Coincidences? Realities of a harsher life? Or was it a pattern he needed to warn Sonia about until he was hoarse?

Sonia waved to him, beckoning.

“You know how it is.” Piranha shrugged to the old man. “People have to learn for themselves.” He was almost sure he could hear the old guy laughing behind him.

While he half-jogged to keep up with Sonia's rapid pace, Piranha had an epiphany: He loved Sonia.
Loved
her like no one he'd known who wasn't his blood. The revelation nearly shocked him, but the burning in his gut was all the evidence he needed. If he'd thought it would do any good, he would get down on his knees and beg.

But that would be the exact wrong move. And any warnings about Wales or the Gold Shirts were sure to sound like jealousy. He didn't want to piss her off. If he had to give up Sonia as his lover, he'd live with that, but he didn't want to lose his friend. Even walking in silence was better than avoiding each other.

“I get it,” Piranha said finally, when they were close enough to downtown to see the glow from the lighted windows—a constellation of shimmering golden stars.

“You get what?”

“Wales,” Piranha said. “It's not just about Threadville for you; you've always known about the Thread thing, and now,
bam.
Here you are. You want to be part of it. New history in the making, I guess.”

Sonia looked at him suspiciously. “Right,” she said, waiting for an attack.

“I'm not mad. I'm not gonna try to tell you what to do. But this is a big place, that's all. There's gonna be nice people, and people who can't spell ‘nice.' So if somebody does anything you don't like, don't forget you're not here alone.” His throat felt like sandpaper, but he forced the words out.

Bingo. Sonia's face softened into a girlish smile, her armor gone. “Thanks, P. I couldn't stand thinking you'd be mad. I want us to always be friends.”

Friends.
The word kicked him. She slowed her pace to give Piranha a quick peck on the lips, and she slipped her hand into his. Her fingertips were freezing cold, so he squeezed as they
walked, trying to keep her warm. Remembering the shape of her thin fingers. Pressing the pad of his thumb against her firm fingernails, one by one.

Most people were leaving the dining hall when they arrived, not going in. Families. Couples. Groups of traders. People walked close and kept their eyes alert, but everybody gave cordial nods or smiled.
Good to see you
had taken on a new meaning:
Thank you for not trying to bite me.

The Twins were walking out of the dining hall with Jackie as they walked in. Darius gave him a thumbs-up sign when he saw him holding Sonia's hand, and Piranha's face went hot. He didn't feel like explaining that he was only Sonia's buddy now, so he winked a lie. When Sonia slipped her hand free to get her food tray, Piranha was glad. The bread was long gone, but the room still smelled like garlic butter.

Ursalina sat by herself smoking at a table in a far corner. Apparently, clean air recommendations had relaxed since Freak Day. She guessed nobody expected to live long enough to worry about secondhand smoke. They joined her there.

Within five minutes, Terry and Kendra had found them too, breathless from rushing as they set their plates of spaghetti on the table. They hadn't been alone long, but the brightness in Kendra's eyes was evidence that it had been long enough to do more than talk.

“You feeling better?” Ursalina said to Kendra, patting her hand. Kendra nodded.

“She's fine,” Terry said. Piranha thought that if he'd hovered over Sonia the way Terry did over Kendra, she might still be his, Wales or no Wales.

“She felt a little sick at the mansion,” Ursalina said.

Sonia gave Kendra a scornful look, as if she'd insulted Wales.
Piranha hoped Wales would be good for Sonia, or he and Wales would have an ugly future together.

“She's got a hell of an imagination, all right,” Sonia said. “Or she's just crazy.”

“All right,” Terry said. Always the mediator.

Kendra stared at her food as she ate, ignoring Sonia. They might all need new sleeping arrangements soon.

“What did you think of Wales's place?” Terry asked Ursalina.

“Seemed all right,” Ursalina said. “A little creepy culty, but nothing to wet your pants over.” She sounded like she was scolding both Kendra and Sonia.

“And you couldn't feel it?” Kendra said suddenly. “It felt like that freakfield we drove past in the bus. How could you miss it?”

“I didn't smell any freaks,” Ursalina said, probably for the dozenth time.

Kendra's voice dipped low. “That's why the sign on the van said no dogs! He doesn't want us to know.”

“You are out of your mind,”
Sonia said. “What do you think, he's got a secret freak factory? Maybe he's the one who started it all, right?” Her voice cracked.

The people at the table stopped eating to stare. Sonia, Terry, and the rest fell silent on cue. Two women in black dresses at the table were Threadies for sure. Two Gold Shirts joined the neighboring table, and Piranha recognized them as the guys who had been waiting for Sonia by the road. They never glanced toward Piranha, but they sat close to him. They knew he was there.
Jerks.

But so what? Everyone said being a scav was the fastest way to get approved, if he didn't blow the politics. Ursalina was figuring out the politics in her way, Sonia in hers, and he would figure out the politics too. He was good at games.

Piranha moved to sit next to Terry, although it was hard to watch the way Terry leaned forward to lap up Kendra's every word, or the way she kept flicking strands of hair from his shoulders. He tried to feel happy for them, but he couldn't find anything except a pain like he'd swallowed a hot stone.

“Anybody else want some water?” Piranha said.

He wasn't that thirsty, but it was hard to resist the coolers and tin cups in the back of the room, free to anyone. Water was nothing to take for granted. Piranha gulped down two cups of the cold water just because he could.

He took his time getting back to the table, studying Wales's strange paintings on the wall. Webs and nets and constellations connecting all the stars in the sky into alien geometries. When a group of women he remembered from the Hungry Dog beckoned him to their table, he flirted politely even though all of them looked too old, or too everything, to keep his attention.

Piranha didn't glance at Sonia the rest of the night.

O
n
the street, Kendra noted a few strings of Christmas bulbs strung here and there and was shocked to remember that the twenty-fifth was only days away. Apparently, despite the end of the world, 'twas the season.