Quarantine: The Loners (11 page)

Another pair of Geeks approached, lugging water. David held his breath. They passed without a word.

Halfway down the hallway, more students began stepping out from classrooms. And then more. And more. It seemed like they were never going to stop. Like a nightmare.
David hunched over and picked up the pace. He nearly collided with someone and got a peeved “Watch it!” thrown his way. He kept walking, but just as he rounded the corner, a voice rang out.

“Hey, it’s you!”

The voice sounded like it had come from directly in front of him. David flinched and looked up, expecting the worst.

The source was a scruffy band Geek with a sharp nose and pockmarked cheeks. But he wasn’t shouting at David. He was pointing at another kid next to David who held a Frisbee.

“I knew it was you! What, were you just never going to give it back?”

David glanced at the Frisbee thief next to him, who was fumbling for a response. For a moment he didn’t know what to do. He was still frozen, as if he’d been caught. The thief made eye contact with David and recognition flashed in his eyes.

David aimed his eyes back at the floor and strode forward, but it was too late. He heard the noise of a phone camera shutter behind him. In two seconds, the Frisbee thief was at David’s left side, walking in unison with him.

“Hey, you’re David, right?”

David ignored him and lengthened his stride. The kid backed off for a moment, then matched David’s new pace.

“Yo, what’s your problem, man? Back off,” David spat out, mustering faux anger. He didn’t want to look at the kid, but it was tough to achieve a scary “Back off!” when he was looking straight at the floor.

“You’re him! I was in Spanish with you,” the kid said. “Taylor.

That’s my name. Remember?”

“I didn’t take Spanish,” David lied. But he remembered Taylor.

“Tayloroso,” he used to call himself. Every time Señora Pérez went around the room asking each student “
Cómo estás?
,” when she got to Taylor he would answer with a spicy flair, “
Yo
siento muy . . . Tayloroso!
” The kid was annoying.

Tayloroso held his phone up, trying to get a shot of David’s face. David broke into a run.

“Hey! Hold on! I want to talk to you,” Tayloroso shouted, running after him. When David didn’t stop, Tayloroso yelled at the top of his lungs, “Hey, it’s the kid who killed that Varsity!” David pushed hard and gained a slight burst of speed. He heard shouts of recognition from the other students. Someone pulled David’s hood off. It didn’t matter now. He had to keep moving. He flicked his head back to see just how many kids he was dealing with. Five more were running beside Tayloroso.

“That’s him! That’s the guy!” Tayloroso hollered.

Groggy kids poked their heads out of classrooms. Some of them grabbed at his sweatshirt and laughed. They swarmed behind him. His legs wouldn’t move fast enough; it felt like a nightmare. David let the pipe slide down out of his sleeve and into his hand. Maybe the sight of a weapon would keep them away
.

Wishful thinking. Someone snatched the pipe out of David’s hand. He looked back at the mob chasing him as he rounded a corner. His vision flared white. He hit the floor before he realized he’d been punched. David blinked through the haze and the pain and saw two Varsity guys towering over him.

A third person stepped between them. It was Sam. His voice was the last thing David heard before an incoming Varsity fist smashed his vision to black.

“Tell everyone. The execution of David Thorpe starts in ten minutes.”

DAVID AWOKE WHEN SOMETHING LONG
and cold and rubbery coiled around his neck and choked his throat shut. The white-hot light of the market seared his eyes at first. A crowd of people stared at him. That thing that gripped his neck, it yanked him up, it bit under his jaw and bent his head down; pain cut up through his neck like a cleaver. He had no air. David dangled by his neck, toes scraping for the floor, fingernails raking at his windpipe. He tried to suck in a breath, but it only hollowed his stomach.

He was being hanged. David thrashed his feet, which twisted him around to face the other end of the hall. He saw Fudgey, the football team’s kicker, and three other Varsity guys holding an orange extension cord that was looped over a sprinkler pipe above David and cinched around his neck.

They leaned back like it was a game of tug of war.

“All right, let him on his feet.”

The noose went halfway slack, and David found the ground.

He gagged. Blood rushed to his head, and he felt his sense of balance slip away. Another pair of Varsity guys wrenched his arms behind him and held him up; David’s legs were just noodles in shoes.

“You all know why we’re here,” Sam’s voice said from behind him. “Yesterday David Thorpe murdered my friend Brad Hammond.”

David’s vision came back into focus. The market was packed with people, except for a fifteen-foot-wide circle of clear floor around David. Each gang was represented. The crowd was riveted, almost excited, as they waited for his life to be taken in front of them. He remembered seeing a lot of those very same faces in the stands on a Friday night, during his final season, cheering him on.

“There aren’t many rules in here,” Sam said, “ but I’m making one today. No one kills my friends.” David’s breathing settled into a rhythm, and he was able to lock his legs straight underneath him; he felt somewhat solid again. Solid and scared out of his mind.

“You don’t kill us,” Sam continued. “You hear me? You try anything, and what’s about to happen to him . . . I’ll make sure it’ll happen to you.”

“He hit his head!” David shouted.

All eyes snapped to him.

“It was one punch,” he went on. “Brad fell and hit his head.

I didn’t murder him!”

“Liar. You liar!” Sam said, “Fudgey, shut him up,” Fudgey let go of David’s right arm and clamped his hand over David’s mouth. David bit down on the Fudgey’s finger. Fudgey screamed and fell back. David spun and drove the sharp part of his elbow into the other guy’s ear. It was Anthony Smith, a linebacker who’d always hated David. To his right, the Varsity guys holding the extension cord dropped it and ran at him. David dashed forward.

He got a good five feet into the crowd before he felt the noose yank on his neck. It stopped him dead just as he came face-to-face with a Nerd girl in the crowd. She had dry, frizzy black bangs that nearly covered her eyes.

“He was going to rape her!” David said.

The Nerd girl froze, terrified. Her eyes shook as she looked back at him; she looked like she was being mugged. Conversations burst out through the crowd. His noose jerked up and back, pulling David off his feet; he crashed to the floor, onto his back. The crowd towered over him like sequoias. The noose pulled again and dragged him back through the crowd.

Lit from above, the faces of the crowd were lost in shadow.

“She was all alone, she had no one to protect her!” David yelled up to them.

Once he was pulled back into the clearing, five Varsity guys jumped on him. They pinned his arms behind him again, throttled him around, and forced him back into place, under the sprinkler pipe.

“Guys, listen to me,” David said to them. “You know me. I wouldn’t do something like that!”

Sam grabbed a fistful of David’s hair and cranked his head back. Sam’s eyes were flared open so wide that David could see white above his corneas. He spoke in a raspy hush that only David could hear.

“You just had to start it back up, didn’t you?”

“Sam, don’t do this.”

A scraggly vein inflated across Sam’s forehead.

“You did this to yourself.”

“Just—just think for a second. What are you doing?”

“Lift!” Sam said.

David heard a collected heave of effort from behind him.

The cord clenched his neck so hard his head wanted to pop off his body. Again, his feet couldn’t find the floor, his lungs were stuck empty. His hangmen heaved again, and David rose farther above the heads of the crowd. His feet chopped at the air.

He couldn’t scream. He looked into the crowd. Someone needed to help him. They had to. But each person he looked to looked away, as though he wasn’t there. As though he wasn’t being lynched right in front of them. They did nothing.

The sound of his own gagging became muffled, like he was hearing it through a pillow. The world darkened. He was an anvil dropped into the ocean, sinking away from life, down into the dark and the cold.

He saw Will.

His vision was dull, but he opened his eyes wider. Will charged into the far end of the hallway. He lugged an overstuffed black garbage bag over his shoulder. Within seconds, a stampede of hollering Varsity guys rushed into the hallway after him. Will ran into the dense crowd, and the stampede barreled in right after him. The smashing of bodies sparked a ripple of violence as opposing gangs careened. When Will broke through to the open circle, he swung the bag around.

Food flew out in a wide arc and scattered onto the floor. The hallway went berserk.

Fights erupted everywhere. People punching, whelping, falling down below him. The tumult overtook the clear circle of floor underneath him. Fudgey and his other hangmen were knocked to the floor. David heard the noose zip over the pipe.

He felt air rush down his throat and his body lose all weight for a moment before he smacked down onto the floor. The feet of the brawlers above kicked him and stepped on him.

Chubby hands picked him up. It was Belinda. She had her arms around his hips, holding him into her plush flank. Mort’s sweaty hands held his head and shoulders. Together, they rammed their way through the thrashing crowd, carrying him. Leonard, Nelson, and the weird twins crowded around, shielding David from view. They carried him away from the hallway riot, out of the market, and into a dark hall. The roaring chaos in the market faded until all David could hear was the huff and wheeze of Belinda’s breathing.

WILL TOOK THE CORNER FAST
. Fear tickled the back of his neck, making him run harder. There easily could have been fifteen of them still after him. He covered the next hallway in seconds and hooked a right at an intersection. His pursuers were the best athletes in the school; he was never going to outrun them.

He saw a locker grave.
RIP
was scratched into the paint in tall letters. Someone had broken the duct tape seal, and the stench of death permeated the air. He whipped the locker open. A rotting body stared down at Will’s shoes. Its arms were snaked through the straps of an old blue backpack that hung on a coat hook. The reek fouled his stomach. The growling pack of Varsity goons neared the corner. He plugged his nose, covered his mouth, and stuffed himself into the locker, closing the door behind him.

He heard Varsity run past the locker. His hand brushed against a knob of dry, shrunken flesh. He didn’t breathe. The Varsity guys were talking to each other, but he couldn’t hear the words through the door. Something was poking him in his back. It could have been an elbow. Or a broken rib. He heard the sound of multiple lockers being opened down the hall. He wanted to take a breath. They opened more lockers, right by Will. He let a little air out and took a quick breath in.

He stifled vomit, and the acid burned his throat. He was sure that he’d just inhaled particles of death. He heard the locker next to his being opened and slammed shut. He braced for an attack. But his locker didn’t open.

He didn’t hear any more noises.

Were they gone?

He couldn’t hold his breath.

Ten seconds, maybe he could last ten more seconds
.

By five, he was ready to die. After seven seconds, Will pushed open the door and fell to the hallway floor on his knees. He looked down the hall, expecting Varsity eyes to be staring back at him. There was no one there.

Will laughed. He’d single-handedly ruined Sam’s big show, and his brother was saved. As soon as he’d heard the announcement over the PA.system about David’s execution, Will couldn’t hide under those gym bleachers any longer.

Who were those kids that carried David off? Scraps, clearly, but he’d never seen Scraps band together bravely like that before. And where did they take David?

As long as David wasn’t in Varsity’s hands, Will was pretty sure David could take care of himself. He had to get back to Lucy in the elevator. He was dying to tell her everything that had happened. He was tingling as he relived the glory, his lips moving slightly as he rehearsed his delivery.

Buoyant conversation and laughter echoed down the hall.

Will ducked into the nearest stairwell and pressed himself against the wall. He had a clear view of some Freak girls. They had smudged ash mascara and matching blue bobs that hid their eyes. They were returning home from the market.

“That was literally the sickest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“In a good way?

“Totally. I’m in love.”

Will grinned, psyched to hear about his handiwork.

“David’s cute, huh?”

What?

“Is it wrong that the cord around his neck got me hot? I just wanted crawl on top of him—”

“Omigod, you are mentally ill!”

The girls laughed.

“People are saying he planned the whole thing. Like, he let them capture him so he could make Varsity look stupid.” Will curled his lip.

“Whoa. Really? Wow. It totally worked.”

“That sounds so like him. I used to know him. He’s kind of a genius.”

How could they call David a genius? He didn’t plan dick.

The Freak girls walked toward the stairwell. Will had enough time to run up the stairs and disappear, but he didn’t.

He stuck his hands in his pocket and leaned against the wall inside the stairwell with his coolest pose. These girls were going to get all flustered when they saw the guy who saved David’s life. The girls stepped through the doorway.

He smirked at them, “’S up?”

“Ew . . . Scrap,” the first said.

The second girl pulled her friends along, up the stairs.

They had to be joking. Did they just not see what he did?

“David stands for something. Like, he’s a really good person,” the third said as the girls continued up the stairs.

“I know,” her friend said. “He’s, like, a saint for taking care of his little brother with all those problems. Its so sad.”

“You’re sad!” Will shouted.

The girls flipped him off and disappeared up the next flight.

Unbelievable,
Will thought.
Freaks suck.
He rolled back into the hall to go home.

Ten minutes later, he was at the elevator. He slipped into the control closet and then up through the vent. After a few rungs of the ladder he hopped into the darkness, knowing just where his feet would land. They made a brassy boom against the metal of the elevator. The sound hung in the air. There was no light on inside the car. He dipped his head down inside, gripping the sides of the hatch hard. No one was inside.

“Lucy?” He said for good measure.

No answer.

Will pulled himself back up and sat on the roof of the elevator shaft. He tried to make sense of her absence. He was starting to panic about David too. Things might not have gone as smoothly as he thought after David escaped the market.

No. Everything’s fine,
he thought.
Lucy just left out of curiosity, but she’s smart. She wouldn’t go far. She’ll be back.

He decided to stay cool and wait. He dropped back into the elevator, lit a candle, and picked up a book of short stories David had been reading. The creaking of the elevator’s steel cables reverberated up and down the shaft, sounding like a fingernail slowly scratching down the string of an electric bass. Will tried to concentrate on the story but couldn’t. He tossed the book aside and just sat, staring at the candle. He tapped his fingers. He didn’t know for how long.

I gotta get out of here.

Will pulled himself out of the elevator and climbed the ladder to the vent. There was no way he could sit still, and he figured that if he kept moving he’d eventually run into either Lucy or David. He crawled through the vent to the closet and pushed open the door to the hallway.

Two identical pale faces stared back at him.

“Gah!”

Will stumbled back into the closet and pulled the door shut.

He held firm on the knob. He waited for the invaders to tug on the door. Or knock. Anything. But nothing happened. Will leaned close to where the door met the frame.

“Hello?” he said.

“Is—is—” a boy’s voice began.

“You Will?” a girl’s voice finished.

Will crinkled his nose, confused. “Yeah,” he said.

“Got a letter for you.”

“Slide it under the door.”

A scrap of paper appeared at his feet. Will picked it up and opened it, straining to read it in the darkness. He pulled a lighter from his pocket and sparked it. The lighter was almost empty and produced only a blue nub of flame. On the scrap was written: “Lucy’s with me. These kids will take you to us. D.” Will relaxed when he recognized David’s handwriting. He pushed open the door and came face-to-face with the ghoulish twins. They shared the same cringing smile; it revealed more nostril than teeth.

“We don’t bite,” the boy said.

The girl covered her mouth and giggled. Will turned up his nose, crumpled up the paper, and pocketed it.

“You two are weird looking,” Will said, “and that’s saying something in this dump.”

The boy kept a straight face, but the girl sneered at Will and spit to acknowledge the insult. The saliva dribbled down her shorts. The twins turned in unison and walked away from Will. He figured that was his cue to follow.

“I mean, seriously, are you two okay? How long have you been dead? I think I bunked up with a friend of yours in a locker a little while ago.”

They giggled. Will craned his head, surprised at their response. But they weren’t listening to him. They were communicating with each other through barely audible whispers and slight hand gestures. Another flourish of giggles and a glance back at Will. They were talking about him. Will sped up to see if he could hear what they were saying.

“. . . ehse ogto suey-sus . . .”

The girl giggled hard this time. A mucous bubble expanded from her nose and then popped. Part of the bottom of her oversize T-shirt was crusted into a point. She lifted it and wiped her nose. Will stifled a gag.

“Let me guess? Single?” Will said.

“The dump,” Will said to himself. “Shoulda seen that coming.” Will stood at the top of the stairs to the basement. At the bottom of the stairs were two open doors that led to the basement. Trash bags were scattered around the doors. The twins trudged their way through the doors. It smelled rank, not rotting-corpse rank but enough to piss Will off.

Will groaned, took a deep breath, and waded into the trash and debris. He passed through the doors into the basement.

The room was as big as a basketball court. Before the explosion it had been the school’s storage area, but everything worthwhile had been raided. Piles of black plastic trash bags, ruined furniture, and debris filled the room. There were hundreds of piles, some knee-high, some almost to the ceiling. To Will’s surprise, every light in the room except one was still working. Not that it helped anything. The lights cast a bluish tone across the wall-to-wall junk.

There was a small crowd of white-hairs gathered at the wall to Will’s left. They stood around the only other door in the room, which was shut. On it was a sign that read BOILER

ROOM. Will recognized most of the group—they were the ones who pulled David out of the quad. There was Leonard and the runty kid with the funnel, but there was no sign of David or Lucy. Without acknowledging Will again, the twins settled at a small three-legged table, pulled out a dirty pink string, and started playing cat’s cradle with each other.

“Yeah, okay, later . . . nice hanging with you . . . and your snotshirt,” he called after them, but they ignored him.

Will walked to the boiler room door. Leonard Jong stood guard. He still couldn’t get over the fact that Leonard was one of the ones who helped get David out of the market. In middle school, Will once saw Leonard scream and run away crying when a squirrel got too close to him.

“Leonard . . . hey. You remember me, right?” Leonard shrugged. It was sort of a yes, a shy yes.

“I’m looking for David.”

“He’s inside.”

Leonard’s voice was quiet and melodic.

“Thanks,” Will said as he reached for the door handle.

Leonard pushed Will’s hand away.

“Nobody go—” Leonard said, and then Will couldn’t hear the rest.

“What?”

“Nobody goes inside,” he said, this time only slightly louder.

“Yeah, but I’m his brother.”

“I—don’t know that.”

Leonard’s voice dropped an octave midsentence. Will wasn’t buying it.

“I saved him in the market. You were there. Let me in.”

“A lot of people want to see David right now.” Will rolled his eyes and grabbed for the door handle again.

Leonard grasped his wrists. Will shook them loose and balled up his fists, ready to fight. Leonard squeaked.

“Looks like you’re B-list around here, Spaz,” someone said.

Will scoured the huddle of Scraps nearby for the speaker and saw Smudge leaning against the wall, smirking back at him. Will sank. If there was a worse witness to his rejection at the door, he couldn’t think of one.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Will said.

Smudge thumbed the Scraps beside him,.“These stalkers came for protection. I came ’cause . . . well, I just wanted to see what happens next.”

“Protection?”

“Yeah. Your bro’s, like, the next Moses or something.” Will glanced back at Leonard and the four Scraps who came to his aid. They eyed Will suspiciously.

“I think he’s changing clothes in there,” Will said in an attempt to sound off the cuff. “That’s why they won’t let me in.” Smudge’s smile widened.

“Lucy’s in there.”

“Oh. Yeah?” Will said.

“They might be taking clothes off, but I’m not sure they’re putting ’em back on,” Smudge said.

“Shut up.”

“Hey, man, I’m just saying. He saves her life one day, goes toe to toe with the most powerful guy in school the next. I’m not imagining any dry panties in that room.” Will remembered the fantasy painted by the Freak girl he’d overheard in the hall.
Just be glad David’s alive,
Will thought.

But he could feel jealousy rising up in him.

“I rescued him,” Will said.

“Not the way I heard it.”

Did everyone have their eyes closed when he saved the day? This was unbelievable.

“I don’t believe you,” Will said. “Lucy’s not in there.”

“What’d she think of the necklace?”

Will pressed his hand on his pocket. He could feel the links of the fine chain through the worn denim. He had forgotten all about it with everything that had happened. And suddenly, it seemed much less special.

“I—I haven’t seen her yet,” Will muttered.

The door that Will wasn’t allowed go through opened.

“Well, here’s your chance,” Smudge said.

Belinda emerged from the other room. Everyone went quiet.

Kids gathered around like band groupies. There were ten of them.

“He’s ready to speak,” Belinda said. Her voice warbled with reverence. She stepped aside, and David appeared in the doorway with Lucy next to him. Will tensed up. Lucy had her arm wrapped around his waist, and his arm was around her shoulder. Will needed them to stop touching each other.