The Last Days (15 page)
Authors: Scott Westerfeld
Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Horror & Ghost Stories, #Performing Arts, #Music
I closed my eyes again. A new layer of hovering badness sprang up all around me, filling the room with a buzzing sound.
“That’s why you have to come rescue me,” she said. “Come let me out and I’ll show you everything.”
I bit my lip. “But you live in . . . Brooklyn, right?”
She groaned. “Don’t be lame. Just take the F train. Half an hour.”
Just half an hour. Plus however long it took the train to come, maybe an hour total. Not forever; I wasn’t afraid of the subways yet.
And if I didn’t go see her, how long would it take to fall asleep in my room all alone? A thousand hours, at least.
Every time I’d watched her sing, her songs moving through my hands as I played, I’d gone to bed that night with her cries still echoing in my brain. Every time, I’d imagined a thousand ways of following her back to Brooklyn, and now she was inviting me.
If I said no, this itch would never leave my skin.
“Everyone’s asleep here,” she was saying. “And I can show you where my music comes from.”
“Okay, Min. I’ll come.” I stood up, like I was heading out the door right then, but my head started to spin. I sat back down. “But how are you going to get out?”
“You’re going to rescue me. It’s easy. Pearl does it all the time.”
“Um, am I supposed to climb up to your window or something?”
“No, silly. Just walk up the stairs.” She giggled. “But first, you have to find the magic key. . . .”
16. LOVE BITES
-MINERVA-
Mozzy was taking for
ever
.
ever
.
I was dressed up so pretty, it was killing me just sitting here at my desk, staring at myself in the mirror. Zombie was pacing, knowing from the tinkle of my earrings that we were going out.
“Not long now,” I said softly. My stomach rumbled.
The thought of Moz coming over had changed the balance inside me—the hungry thing had woken up, stirred from the sleep Luz had forced upon it. I’d already chewed through all my emergency beef jerky, trying not to think of the way he smelled. So yummy and intense.
I took a bite of pork rind, letting its unctuous texture coat my mouth. Zombie wandered over and
mur-row
ed, so I gave him my fingers to lick.
mur-row
ed, so I gave him my fingers to lick.
“You can go play with your little friends soon.”
I looked at the clock: after two. Smelly Moz. What if he’d chickened out? I wanted to get closer to the earth. Singing felt wonderful, but I needed to feel the dirt under my fingernails, to smell and taste the things down there.
I needed to learn more, to put flesh on the words in my notebooks.
My stomach rumbled again, and I felt funny in a way I hadn’t for a while. Like before Luz came along—kind of . . . inhuman. That wasn’t good.
Mustn’t eat Mozzy
, I thought, and peeled a clove of garlic. It was fresh, the way Luz said was best, the papery skin still flecked with purple. The clove split between my teeth, sharp and hot as fresh chicken blood. My next breath sucked the flavor into my lungs, and my nerves steadied.
, I thought, and peeled a clove of garlic. It was fresh, the way Luz said was best, the papery skin still flecked with purple. The clove split between my teeth, sharp and hot as fresh chicken blood. My next breath sucked the flavor into my lungs, and my nerves steadied.
“That’ll teach you,” I whispered to the hungry thing inside me, then took a swig from the little bottle of tequila Pearl had smuggled in, swishing it around my mouth. Didn’t want to taste funny for Moz.
In the clarity of my garlic buzz, I took off my dark glasses and stared into the mirror, wondering in which direction I was headed tonight.
Some things, like Luz’s teas and tinctures, made me better, more boring and sensible. Others, like singing with Pearl’s band, brought out the magnificent beast inside me and summoned the big things underground. It was the same old balancing act—how far to go with boys, with booze, with dangerous places—but magnified until the whole earth shook.
I wasn’t sure yet which way Moz was going to take me. I knew that both halves of me wanted badly to take him under the ground, but I was pretty certain they had different ideas about what to
do
with him down there.
do
with him down there.
I gnashed another clove of garlic, swilled another shot of tequila, just in case.
The stairs creaked. . . .
Moz
.
Moz
.
I stood up, crossed to the door, and pressed my ear against it. He was down at the very bottom, making his slow way up. My thirsty hearing swept through the house: Max’s heart beating in the room next door, Daddy snoring low and even, no pages turning from my mother reading late in bed. Silence, except for the slow, cautious feet creeping up the stairs, the occasional crinkle of the house cooling down.
Zombie did figure eights around my feet.
“No purring,” I hissed. “Mommy’s listening.”
I slid my cheek along the door, put my nose up to the crack. Sniffed.
Moz was still too far downstairs to smell. I counted my own heartbeats to a thousand, spread my palms out on the door, pressed my anxious weight against it, groaning. Even shiny Pearl didn’t climb the stairs this slowly.
Finally he reached the top floor and I caught his scent, nervous and unsure.
And
hungry
. I smiled.
hungry
. I smiled.
He turned the hasp free, the faint vibrations traveling through wood and into my thirsty skin. The metal bolt slid across.
I took a step back, dizzy. Being rescued was
much
better when it was Mozzy doing it.
much
better when it was Mozzy doing it.
The door opened the tiniest crack.
“Min?” On a little puff of air, smelling of yummy Moz breath.
I didn’t answer, just stood there behind the door, Zombie warm against my ankle. Everything was tingling.
The door pushed open another nervous inch. “Minerva?”
“Mozzzz,” I buzzed.
“Jesus.”
His face peeked through, shiny in the candlelight, expressions squirming across it.
His face peeked through, shiny in the candlelight, expressions squirming across it.
I put my hand out to stroke his cheek. Brought it back and licked my fingers. Nervous-tasting, but Mozzy.
He pushed through into my room, leaned back to softly shut the door. Closed his eyes. “Jesus, Min. Those are some creaky-ass stairs.”
I giggled, slipping a hand through the unzipped top of his jacket, pressing my palm against his chest. His heart was pounding deliciously. If he hadn’t been breathing so hard, I could have heard the warm blood rushing through his veins.
Don’t think naughty thoughts
, I scolded myself.
, I scolded myself.
“You made it, though.”
His eyes opened, a relieved grin making his face shimmer. “Yeah.”
I pulled my hand back from the hothouse of his jacket, pressed fingers against the door. “No one heard you. Relax.”
Mozzy nodded but didn’t relax at all. His expression was so naked
,
tension transforming into excitement, his own hunger rumbling. His eyes rolled across my tight black dress and boots, growing wider, about to burst.
,
tension transforming into excitement, his own hunger rumbling. His eyes rolled across my tight black dress and boots, growing wider, about to burst.
“You’re all dressed up.”
I smiled. “Well, we’re going somewhere special, you know.”
“Oh.” He glanced down at himself: T-shirt under leather jacket, jeans. “I didn’t think . . . I mean, it’s two in the morning.”
“Shush, Moz. You look delicious.” I bent down and swept up Zombie. “Come on. Time for the creaky-ass stairs again.”
“Okay . . .” He frowned. “The cat’s coming?”
I sighed. Why was everyone always giving Zombie funny looks? He never stuck his nose into
their
business. Zombie had things to do, places to be. Zombie needed rescuing too. And he knew things.
their
business. Zombie had things to do, places to be. Zombie needed rescuing too. And he knew things.
If he could talk, Zombie would’ve told us what was coming.
But all I said was, “He’s got a date with a tree.”
“Oh, sure.” Moz smiled and softly opened the door.
With no smelly sun wrecking everything, outside was much better.
In beautiful soft starlight, I could see the dead leaves scattered on the ground, the spiderwebs sparkling in the grass, captured insects making them dance. The unburnt air was moist, thick with scents and sounds.
I put Zombie down, watched him slip in among the glistening piles of plastic bags. Those garbage mountains were alive in the darkness, the steady breeze carrying messages from deep inside.
I put my hand against one, felt its cool slickness. It had a scent like my room, my bedclothes, like something that Zombie and I shared. Little tremblings were rampant in the pile’s depths, answering my presence.
“Family,” I murmured, rustles of understanding moving through me.
“Um, yeah. Your family,” Moz whispered, glancing nervously back at my house, as if the porch light was about to pop on, Daddy emerging with a shotgun. “Where’re we going anyway?”
His anxious smell made hunger bubble up inside me again, and I wished I’d brought more garlic. I turned and took his hand, pulling him down the street. “This way. I’m taking you where I can show you things.”
“Oh, okay.” He followed in a silent trance, obedient in my grasp. As we neared the first intersection, though, my steps slowed. Everything was muddled.
I’d grown up on this street, but somehow things had changed. A new world had descended on my old neighborhood—a terrain of smells, skittering sounds, and territorial boundaries. The old maps inside my head had crumbled over the last two months, turning the street signs into gibberish.
“Which way’s the F stop, Moz?”
“We’re going somewhere by
subway
? It’s, like, two-thirty, Min!”
subway
? It’s, like, two-thirty, Min!”
I frowned. “We’re not getting on a train. Just need to remember.” I squeezed his hand, looking up into his bulging, thirsty eyes. “I’ve been locked up for a while, you know.”
“Oh, right.” His throat rippled with a swallow. “Sure. It’s back this way.”
I followed him, familiar landmarks seething with the new reality—the vacant lot one block over, alive now with shivering forms; my old preschool, playground swings creaking in the breeze; the best Lebanese restaurant in Brooklyn, its garbage smelling of rancid honey and chick-peas, trembling with movement.
Luz has been robbing me of all this
, I thought. She wanted to cure me of my new senses, to lock me away from this sumptuous half-lit world. Every step I took, I was finding out more. . . . I still had enough crazy left to understand.
, I thought. She wanted to cure me of my new senses, to lock me away from this sumptuous half-lit world. Every step I took, I was finding out more. . . . I still had enough crazy left to understand.
Moz took me to the F station down the block, and I pulled him to the lip of the stairs, breathed in the subterranean hum for a dizzy and exultant moment, like when
la musica
traveled through me. The beast rumbled, twisting happily in my guts.
la musica
traveled through me. The beast rumbled, twisting happily in my guts.
“But I thought we weren’t—”
“We’re not taking the train,” I said. “This is just a shortcut.”
“A shortcut?” he said, not quite believing.
“You can only get what you want underground, Mozzy. But believe me, you’ll love the way it tastes.”
He blinked, then nodded. I smiled, covering my eyes as I pulled him down into the fluorescent lights, his pulse fluttering under my fingers.
Every step we took, the pull was getting stronger.
Moz could sense it too, as if its influence traveled through my skin and into his, an electric current of desire. Or maybe he could smell it on me—here underground I felt myself glowing with it, the beast inside me doing back flips, screaming that it was almost loose. Whatever was down here had freed it from Luz’s restraints. My tongue ran across my teeth uneasily.
Must . . . not . . . eat . . . Mozzy.
But I couldn’t stop moving forward either.
Behind me Moz was panting, eyes glittering like wet glass. When I jumped down from the platform onto the empty subway tracks, he didn’t say a word, just paused for a moment before following. His lips were full of blood, and I could see his heart racing in his throat. It was all I could do not to take him right there, but I knew it would only get better the farther down we went. I pulled him into the darkness of the tunnel.
Gravel crunched under our feet, and the skitters and smells of tiny things were all around us. My friends, my family.
Then a shiver traveled up into my toes . . .
danger.
danger.
Moz pulled me to a stop. He’d felt it too. “Crap! Is that a train?”
I knelt, put one hand on a rail.
“Watch out! That’s—”
“Don’t be scared, Moz.” I pointed with my free hand. “
That’s
the electric one. This one’s just for listening. . . .” The smooth, cold metal under my palm was trembling, but not with the approach of a train. Everything around us shivered: gravel, iron beams, the work lights hanging from their cords. The earth was shuddering in fear.
That’s
the electric one. This one’s just for listening. . . .” The smooth, cold metal under my palm was trembling, but not with the approach of a train. Everything around us shivered: gravel, iron beams, the work lights hanging from their cords. The earth was shuddering in fear.
Calling me to the struggle—
la lucha.
Calling Moz too.
la lucha.
Calling Moz too.
And suddenly I knew something that Luz’s cures had hidden from me, something I’d only glimpsed in my songs. The thing underground, the thing that made the earth rumble, was our
enemy
.
enemy
.
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