The Nightworld (12 page)

Chapter 23

“Listen, I’m sorry. About last night, I mean.” Zeke is standing at the door to my bedroom. “This fucking dark—it’s getting to me. I want to go outside and see the blue sky, you know?”

I sit up. I don’t want to say anything. I don’t feel especially forgiving of Zeke, but I don’t think I want to piss him off either.

“Are we cool?” Zeke isn’t letting it pass.

“I guess.” I don’t feel too cool with him. I don’t feel like I trust the guy at all, really.

“I just overreacted.” Zeke watches me from the doorway.

“To what?” I watch him back, interested in seeing what his answer might be. No such luck, though. He just shrugs and tells me breakfast is ready. Then he leaves.

I get out of the bed and rub my eyes. I’m hoping Zeke is okay—he just freaked me out a little last night. I keep telling myself he’s fine as I walk down the hall from the bedroom. I can hear Kath’s voice from the kitchen. When I reach the room, all three of them—Kath, Zeke, and Lara—are laughing.

“What’s the joke?” I smile at Lara. She looks beautiful even with mussed-up hair and sleepy eyes. I wish I could kiss her.

“We were just comparing notes about what our parents made us eat for breakfast.” Lara rolls her eyes. “Mine were hardly ever home, so I ate what I wanted.”

It’s strange how we’ve adjusted to talking about people from before the darkness in the past tense.

“My dad always made us eat eggs and bacon and hash browns, every single morning.” Zeke chuckles. “I guess he didn’t know about cholesterol.”

Kath grins too. Parents are easy targets. “Mine were hot on grains, so we had to eat steel-cut oats. Every freaking morning my mom cooked them on the stove for forty minutes. My brother hated them.” Kath’s voice trails off. She looks pensive.

“I bet he’s okay, Kath.” Zeke puts his arm around Kath’s shoulders. “He’s probably in some safe place with your parents.”

Kath doesn’t look so sure.

I try to change the subject. “So what’s for breakfast?”

Lara gives me a grateful look. “Pancakes!” She grins. “It looks like the electricity is back on for a little while, so we took full advantage.” She opens the oven door and shows me a foil-covered heap. “We just have to set the table.”

“I can help with that.” I notice that we’re still walking around in the dark, even though the lights could be on right now if the electricity is working. “We’re keeping the lights off?”

Zeke snorts. “First thing they look for—lights.”

“He means the crazies.” Lara hands me some silverware. “They watch to see if lights come on in the high-rises when the power blips on. If they do, the crazies come up after whatever they think they can get.”

We set the table that’s in the kitchen. I guess that breakfast is going to be a more formal affair than our other meals have been. As if she’s read my mind, Lara explains.

“Kath and I thought it would be fun for us all to eat like it used to be—at the table, you know?” She laughs. “Except me and Brian hardly ever ate at the table, and neither did Zeke’s family, and Kath says they only did at holidays.”

I smile, but I don’t say anything. I’m remembering how Dad used to be sure to eat with me every morning and every night after Mom died, until we both got so wrapped up in our own stuff. I miss those mealtimes. I bet everyone here is missing something like that. Wondering if they’ll ever do it again.

Kath comes to the table with the foiled pancake mountain. Zeke follows with some syrup.

“Let’s eat!” Zeke helps himself to five cakes.

We pass the plate around, and I smother my pancakes in maple syrup. They taste delicious. I eat mine slowly, savoring the flavor. None of us talk much over the meal. It seems like just the act of sitting together around the table is enough.

“Any plans for today?” I mop up the last of the syrup off my plate.

“I was hoping we could just lay low today.” Lara looks at Zeke. “It would be nice just to spend some time together.”

He raises both hands up at her. “I’ve got no beef with that.”

Lara looks relieved. I think about what it must be like to wait here while Zeke goes out to get supplies, wondering if he’ll ever come back.

“I’d like to get some wash done.” Kath raises her eyebrows at Zeke, and he laughs.

“I guess I know what I’m doing today.” Zeke shakes his head at Kath, but he’s clearly happy to help her.

After we’ve cleaned our plates, we stack them on the counter next to the sink. Lara fills one side of the double sink with water from a bucket and adds some dish soap.

“Want to wash or dry?” She holds out a towel.

“I’ll wash,” I say. “Why are we using water from buckets?” I nod toward the bucket.

“That’s from the balcony—rainwater, like I was telling you.” Lara takes the plate I hand her and dries it. “We try to use it for everything except cooking. We have several buckets now, and we have some netting that Zeke brought home from one of his forays. We put the netting on top to keep bugs out of the water. I wish we had some big old rubber bands. I’m using shoelaces knotted together to hold the netting over the buckets.”

I nod and keep washing. The things we’re going to have to become accustomed to in this new, dark world . . . I wonder how many other changes are in store.

“It’s weird, isn’t it?” Lara seems to know, once again, what I’m thinking.

I nod. “Yeah. I mean, here we are, dressed in five layers of clothes, doing dishes in cold rainwater in the dark, scared to step out onto the street, wondering where our meals are coming from and how long we can hold out up here. It’s
really
weird.”

We just stand there, staring at each other for the longest moment. I want to ask Lara about leaving this place, but we get interrupted.

“Whoa.” Kath walks up behind us. “Downer city in here, huh?”

Lara and I both laugh a little. “I guess so,” I say.

“Well, Zeke and me are going to brave the laundry room on the seventh floor. So will one of you come lock the stairwell after us?”

“Do you guys have to go down there?” Lara looks worried. “Can’t you just use our machine?”

“As long as the electricity holds out, I want to try to wash some jeans and stuff. We can use all the machines down there at once and get everything done if we’re lucky.” Kath smiles. “You know how long it takes with just one machine.”

“Okay.” Lara still looks worried. “But just the washing—bring everything up here to hang dry, right?”

“Right. Now come on!” Kath whirls and heads out of the kitchen.

“Want to come?” Lara dries the last dish. I follow her out to the living room, where Zeke is waiting by the door with two baskets full of laundry. Kath joins us almost immediately with another basket and a jar of quarters.

“Ready?” Zeke raises his eyebrows at Kath.

“Of course.” She gestures like a queen. “Onward, my prince.”

“Prince of dirty clothes.” Zeke holds the door for her. He seems to be in a better mood than he was last night, that’s for sure. I hope it lasts a long time.

Lara and I follow them out to the stairwell door. Lara takes the golf club out of the handle and holds the door open. “We’ll listen every five minutes.” After Zeke and Kath go through, Lara closes the door and shoves the golf club back through the door handle, snugging it into place with the rag. She checks a watch on her wrist that I haven’t noticed before. “Batteries,” she says when she sees me looking. “So far they still work. Yours is the windup kind, though, right?” She points to the watch Gus gave me. “Are you keeping it wound?”

I nod. “Yeah. The guy who gave it to me told me it might come in handy.” I wonder where Gus is now. Is he still in the house next door to Charlie’s, waiting for his son to come home? Is he even alive? I hope so. I keep seeing his grizzled face and hearing him give me advice. I wish he was here right now. He’d know exactly what to do.

Chapter 24

Thinking about Gus makes me think about my dad for some reason. Maybe it’s the part about knowing what to do. I bet if my dad were here, he’d know what we should be doing. I bet he wouldn’t be telling us to do laundry. That thought makes me smile. My dad would say something like, “Clean clothes are nice, but it seems to me like we may be in a crisis here.” And then he’d waggle his fingers in front of his face like he was holding a big old stogie. Some comedian used to do that—Groucho Marx, I think. Or maybe it was Charlie Chaplin? Whoever it was, Dad used to piss my mom off sometimes, doing that.

“It seems like we may be experiencing a slight problem,” he said when we blew a tire on our way to the second-grade school play. I remember I was in a lobster costume, and Mom was freaking out because I came on in the first act. “They may have to do without a crustacean tonight,” Dad said. “They’ll survive.” But he got the tire changed, and I got to the stage on time.

Thinking about Dad alive makes me think about him dead. I don’t think I’ll ever get the image of him out of my mind. I still can’t quite believe it’s actually true. I follow Lara back into the apartment and try to act like nothing’s wrong, but I think she can tell.

“Want to look at the sky?” She looks at her watch and walks over to the balcony door. “We’ve got four minutes until the next door check.”

“What are we looking for?” We step out onto the balcony.

“Light.” Lara sounds wistful. She scans the sky. “Just light.”

Of course there is none. The sky is a dark gray, like there is a heavy cloud cover, the kind where there’s going to be a bad storm. I can’t see any change in it at all. I scan the city streets. It looks like a war happened down there. The way the city is now, I have a hard time believing it will ever be normal again.

“It sucks.” Lara is looking down there too.

“We probably can’t stay here forever.” I wonder how she feels about leaving.

“I know.” Lara doesn’t seem upset. “I just . . . I hope my parents can find me if they come back.”

I don’t say anything for a minute. The last newscast I saw that mentioned Europe made it sound like they were just as bad off as the States are. I wonder if Lara’s parents are even alive. When I do speak, I’m careful to change the subject. “Probably time for us to check the door, right?”

She nods and we go back inside. There’s no sound at the stairwell door, though. We spend most of the next hour just talking, laughing about things we remember from school. Sometimes she gets quiet and I think maybe we’re talking about someone she knows is dead, but I’m afraid to ask.

“What about your friend Charlie? Is he okay?”

“I think he is, but I’m not sure. His parents took him out of town when it got dark. He texted me right before he left, but he didn’t have time to say much.” At the sound of Charlie’s name, Tank raises his head. He’s been lying on the couch, and I thought he was asleep.

“Oh—he misses him,” says Lara.

“Maybe,” I say. In fact, I’m sure Tank does miss Charlie. I think he’s wondering where his friend went, and why he got stuck with a lame replacement like me. All I can do is try to keep him safe until he and Charlie can be reunited. And it’s hard to feel too sorry for him right now, watching him get his ears scratched by the prettiest girl in school. “He looks pretty happy right now.”

Lara moves over next to me. “You know what I keep thinking about, Nick?”

“What?”

“That day—the day of the party. I was so excited that you might come. I remember watching the door every time the doorbell rang and hoping it would be you. And then, finally, it was.” She looks embarrassed. “I was so happy when you finally arrived.”

I can’t believe what she’s saying. I mean, I can, but it seems so strange to know that we felt the same way that day.

“Did you know that I—that I liked you, Lara?”

She looks down at her hands. “I thought you might. Just the way I’d catch you watching me sometimes. But I was never really sure. I hoped so, though.”

I have to kiss her then. And for the next hour, as we kiss, check the door, then kiss some more, it’s like everything goes away. I forget about the darkness, about my father being dead, about everything that’s happened. I forget about the future. It’s just the two of us, and this is the only world that matters. And every time I open my eyes and look at her, it’s like she’s the one bit of light still left in the world.

Finally Kath and Zeke come back from doing the laundry. “All of the jeans are dry!” Kath points to a stack of neatly folded pants. “All we have to hang up are the T-shirts.”

“Any sign of other people?” Lara asks as we help Kath drape shirts along the backs of the dining-room chairs.

“Nothing,” says Zeke. “We checked to see if there were any new clothes down there, or if it seemed like anybody had been there since we were last, but it all looked the same. I don’t think there’s anybody left in the building but us.”

I decide to broach the subject of leaving. “How long do you guys think we should stay here?”

“What do you mean?” Zeke sounds almost pissed off. So much for his better mood.

“I mean, if everyone is out of the building, how long can it be safe to stay here? We’ll run out of food in the immediate area after a certain amount of time, anyway.”

“People only know to come
here
if they’re trying to find us. They wouldn’t know where else to—” Zeke breaks off, and looks like he’s said more than he meant to say.

“It’s okay.” Lara shakes her head. “We’ll stay for a while longer, Zeke. We don’t have to make any decisions right now.”

Zeke must be thinking of Meagan and how she wouldn’t know how to find us. If she’s still alive. Lara’s remark seems to appease him, and the rest of the day is spent doing domestic things around the place. Since the electricity is back on, we get to have a hot dinner of canned ravioli, and Kath makes some sort of biscuits using only a mix and some water, and they’re delicious. I’m careful not to bring up planning again, and we all relax a little bit.

I can’t help thinking, though, about those men in my bedroom. I doubt they have a clue where I am, but I don’t want to stay in one place too long. I came here to see if Lara was safe. I planned to ask her to come with me to . . . wherever. Now I wonder if that’s such a good idea. She’s safe here, at least safer than she would be with me. If those men who killed my dad really are from the government, they won’t stop looking for the device they want, and they probably know by now that I have it. I had hoped that because the phones were out, they wouldn’t have had any way to track me to Charlie’s, but I realize now that if they’re government, they do. My phone will have given me away, even dead. They only have to look through the records of the texts I got before it stopped working to know that Charlie is a friend—from there it’s not hard to get an address. If it works like it does in the movies, they’ll be following every lead they get until they run me down.

Suddenly I’m glad Gus insisted on staying next door at his son’s house. I don’t think they would suspect he knew anything, even if they did know he was there.

“Ready to turn in?” Lara’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts. The evening has gone by already. I’m surprised at how tired I am. I nod at Lara, excuse myself, and head for bed.

I grab the device from my pack and crawl under the covers. There’s a tap on the door, and after I shove the device under my pillow I clear my throat. “Yeah?”

The door opens a bit, and Lara peeks inside the room.

“Okay if I come say good night?”

She comes in and sits on the edge of the bed. She looks as tired as I feel.

“You doing okay?” I wish there was some way I could make everything better for her.

“I’m fine.” She combs her fingers through her hair. “How about you, Nick? Do you want to talk any more, about . . . your dad? Or anything?”

I really don’t. Talking about it right now just seems to bring it closer, and I don’t want to see his face the way I saw it last. I shake my head.

Lara watches me for a moment, then nods. “It’s hard, sometimes. It’s enough to just be here, you know?” She surprises me then, by leaning toward me and giving me a soft, gentle kiss on the lips. I put my hand on her shoulder and pull her closer. The kiss turns into three, and then five, and then we both start laughing and pull away from each other.

“We’ll never get to sleep like this,” she says.

“You’re right about that.” I’m not so sure I want to get to sleep anymore.

“Well, I’ll see you in the morning, then.” She lingers at the door, and then disappears.

I’m not quite as sleepy as I was when I first got into bed. I dig the device out from under the pillow and turn it in my hands. I push the buttons, and the tendrils of light appear. I push again, and they get brighter. The third time I push, I expect it to get even brighter, but instead it goes out. I concentrate on the seams, and try to leverage the parts of it that look like they open. Nothing happens.

I know it has to do something. I just don’t know if I’ll ever figure out what.