The Last Place on Earth (27 page)

Kyle broke in, “No one talks like that to my dad.”

Mr. Hawking ignored Kyle. “You listen to me, Dunkle. We have been paying you—more than you deserve, frankly—for a year and a half. And we've let you live on our land. Damn right I can tell you what to do.”

If Mr. Hawking was right outside the cave, then …

I shoved away the bark blanket and hurried into the daylight, trailing bit of grass and leaves.

“Henry!”

He turned. “Daisy! Thank God.”

I hurled myself toward him, and he hugged me hard.

“We've been searching for two days.”

I stepped back. “Didn't they tell you where we were going?”

Henry shook his head. “We got up in the morning, and everyone was gone.”

Mr. Dunkle stood in front of the dead bear, arms crossed over his chest, army fatigues splattered with blood.

Mr. Hawking took two steps toward him. “We have a contract. And that contract states that you will not abandon the property without sufficient notice and a justifiable cause.”

Mr. Dunkle sneered. “What ya gonna do, sue me?” (Under the circumstances and considering that Mr. Hawking was a lawyer, it was a decent comeback.)

“We are
one community
,” Mr. Hawking said, his jaw tight.

Mr. Dunkle puffed out his chest. “You need us more'n we need you. Heck, we don't need you at all. You go back to your fancy house, see how long you survive on your own.”

“We know you lied about being in the Special Forces,” Mr. Hawking snapped.

“So?”

“So…” Mr. Hawking was at a loss for words, but not for long. “So I feel sorry for your children. Growing up with a father who is a thief and a liar.”

Blood-smeared hunting knife in hand, Kyle sprang toward Mr. Hawking. “Don't you talk to my daddy like that!”

“Kyle, don't!” I yelled.

Miraculously, Kyle stopped in his tracks, which gave Mr. Hawking the opportunity to pull out a handgun. Everyone froze. For a moment, I forgot to breathe.

Slowly, Kyle lowered his knife. “Which side you gonna take?” he asked me.

Heart thundering, I looked at Kyle, then at Henry, and then back to Kyle again.

Someone moved near the mouth of the cave. Kirsten and Karessa stood next to each other, each holding a twin. The boiled berries had worked their magic: The ends of Kirsten's hair were a bright, cheery purple. Oblivious to the tension, little Sassy blew me a kiss.

“Can't we all just get along?” I whimpered.

“Too late for that.” Mr. Hawking's voice was surprisingly calm considering that a crazed teenage boy with a bloody knife had threatened him just moments before. But then, he was holding a gun, and a gun beats everything. Just ask that poor bear.

Mr. Hawking slipped his gun back into the holster and drew himself up tall. “You will remove your vehicles from our property by sundown.” He turned to me. “Coming?”

The tension in the air felt combustible. I hesitated for only a moment before nodding. Eyes to the ground, I joined Henry and his father for the trek back to the house, leaving the Dunkles and the bark blanket behind.

My heart didn't stop racing till we were far away from the cave. I tried not to think about the bear. Or Sassy. Or how I never got to tell Kirsten that her hair looked really good. I was just so grateful that Henry had found me and was bringing me back to safety.

“Do I smell?” I asked Henry. “I really need a shower. And food. I need food.”

“You smell like trees.” He fished in his pocket and handed me a protein bar. Hands shaking, I ripped open the package and ate it in four dusty bites. Henry handed me a metal water bottle, and I gulped greedily until I had finished the last drop.

I handed back the empty bottle. “Have you heard anything about what's going on out there?”

“Martin drove down the mountain yesterday. Your mother texted back. Said she and Peter are okay and she's glad you are safe in the mountains.”

My relief was so intense, it made my legs wobbly, and I had to stop walking for a moment. “Where is she? Did she go to your house?”

“She didn't say anything else, just that they are healthy.”

“Well, that's … wow.”
Peter and my mother are okay.

“There were no new texts from Sienna,” Henry said. “Martin is freaking out.”

Ahead of us, Mr. Hawking disappeared over a giant boulder. Henry hauled himself up and turned to give me his hand. I stuck my pink-sneakered foot in a crevice, took Henry's hand, and pushed off from the ground. My sneaker slid out of the crevice, and I began to fall, but he grabbed me under the arm and held me until I regained my footing.

When I reached the top, we both stood up, but he kept his hands under my arms, holding me steady.

I said, “They told me you weren't coming. That you let your parents send me away.”

“And you believed that? After everything?”

“I don't know what I believe anymore.”

“Oh, Daisy.” In a sudden motion, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine. My entire face warmed. For the moment, I forgot where I was and why I was here. It was just me and Henry, alone in the universe.

When he pulled back, his smile was gentle. “Now you've been kissed.”

I didn't know what to say to that. No way was I going to tell him about Kyle, so I just nodded.

We scrambled down the other side of the boulder and walked along a short path that led to the house, hurrying to catch up to Mr. Hawking. I couldn't wait to get clean and to take a long, long nap in the stuffy bus.

The front gate was open. “So you could get in if you came back,” Henry explained.

I picked up my pace. “I never thought I'd be so happy to see this place.”

When I got to the open gate, Henry grabbed my arm. “Wait. Something's wrong.”

Mr. Waxweiler stood on the front steps, a shotgun poised.

Mr. Hawking came up behind us. “Don't shoot! It's us!”

In his oddly high voice, Mr. Waxweiler called out, “WE HAVE AN INTRUDER!”

A young man stood in the shadows next to Martin's car. I couldn't see his face, but I recognized the way he held his shoulders, the slight paunch around his waist, those long skinny legs.…

“Peter!” Overjoyed, I sprinted toward my brother. But Henry ran after me and grabbed me by the waist, holding me back.

“Let me go!” I tried to pry his hands away, but he held tight.

“I don't want you to get sick.” His breath was warm on my ear.

“It's
Peter
.”

My brother saw me. “Daisy? Are you okay?”

“I'm fine. Dirty, but safe. And healthy. Are you okay?”

Peter stepped into a patch of sunlight. He needed a shave even more than usual, but that didn't matter because his cheeks bloomed with color.
Peter was okay.

“I'm going with you!” I called out.

“No!” Henry protested, still holding on to me. “He might be infected.”

“He's fine. Just look at him!”

“He's fine now. But he could still get sick. The symptoms come on quickly.”

“Where's Mom?” I asked Peter. “Is she still okay?”

“She's fine. She's … at home.”

From the pause, I guessed that they had gone to Henry's house. Henry's parents wouldn't like that, but I was past caring what Henry's parents thought about anything.

“Is Mom going to work?” I asked.

“No. Her office is closed till this thing blows over.”

“
If
it blows over,” Mr. Hawking said.

“Pretty much everything is closed,” Peter said. “They shut down LAX this morning.” He looked at Mr. Waxweiler, who was still poised to shoot. “Sir? Can you put that down?”

“Only if you promise not to move,” Mr. Waxweiler squeaked. “We can't risk infection.”

“I won't move,” Peter said. “I totally understand why you're freaking out because it's scarier than a zombie invasion out there. They're telling everyone to stay home. This is the first time I've left the house in a week. I've been shut up with my mother and her boyfriend, and no one's sick.”

Mr. Waxweiler lowered the shotgun, but he kept both hands on it.

“Randy's still around?” I said, incredulous.

“Turns out he's good in a crisis,” Peter said. “Talks a lot, though. It's been a long week.”

“What about looters?” Mr. Hawking asked.

“None that I've heard of.”

“Not yet, anyway,” Mr. Waxweiler grumbled, shotgun still firmly in his grip.

“Is the power still on?” Mr. Hawking asked. “The water?”

“Um, yeah. But it's scary. The news reports? If you get this thing, you pretty much die. But I read on the Internet that they're close to a cure.”

“They'll say anything to avoid mass hysteria,” Mr. Hawking said. “Even if they've found something that works, it'll take months to get it to market. Years, even.”

I said, “Mr. Waxweiler? Please don't shoot, but my brother and I are leaving now. Come on, Peter.”

“Daisy, no,” Henry said, even as he loosened his hold on my arm.

“I need to go, Henry.”

My shower would have to wait until I got home.
Home
. I was finally getting out of here.

But Peter didn't move. “Slight problem,” he said.

“What?”

He scratched his scruffy chin. “I drove to the place where we parked last time. I walked a little bit into the woods, but I was afraid I'd get lost, so I went back to the car. But when I tried to start it up, nothing happened.”

“The car's dead?”

He nodded. “We're kind of stuck here.”

 

Thirty-Eight

PETER'S DESCENT INTO
the bunker wasn't as traumatic as mine for several reasons. One, he got to climb down the rope ladder into the decontamination chamber instead of free-falling into a dirt hole. Two, he knew he was being put into quarantine and how long it would last. And three, over the past few months, Peter had built up an impressive tolerance for spending long hours in confined spaces without daylight. Of course, he couldn't get cell phone reception and there was no gaming console, but Henry gave him a Nintendo one of the Dunkle boys had left in the house, along with a stash of solar-charged batteries.

But still. It was weird watching my brother disappear into the ground. Gwendolyn's dad had opened up the hatch, but then he made a big deal about getting far away before letting Peter approach. From a distance, Mr. Hawking told Peter how to lock himself inside. He made it very clear that if Peter got sick (he wouldn't get sick … I couldn't let my mind go there), no one would help him.

That's not true
. I would help him. I would never abandon my brother.

Henry and I stood on the edge of the clearing. “He'll be okay,” Henry said. “If he was infected, he'd be exhibiting symptoms by now.”

“Then why does he have to spend a week underground?” I was still angry at Henry for holding me back when I tried to run to my brother. And I was angry at everyone for treating Peter like he had cooties.

Henry said, “We need to be one hundred percent sure he's not sick. It's community policy.”

“Community?” I turned to face him. “Half of your community never showed up, and the other half is gone.”

“Do you actually miss the Dunkles?”

“Some of them.”

“This is about Kyle, isn't it?”

“What?”

“I saw the way he was looking at you this morning.”

“You did
not
just say that.”

He checked my face and then looked at the ground.

Suddenly, I was furious. “You're jealous?
Seriously?
Kyle has nothing to do with nothing. I mean
anything
.” (Two days in the wilderness with those people and my grammar was shot.) “It's weird that he kissed me, but I'm just going to pretend it didn't happen.”

Henry's eyes widened. In my anger, I'd forgotten that I hadn't told him about the kiss. It used to be that I told Henry everything. All that had changed.

I continued, “I don't dislike Kyle as much as I used to, but I don't
like-like
him. If he
like-likes
me, whatever—I really don't care. I just want to go home. I just want things to be the way they were. Though you and me, our friendship—I don't know if that will ever be the same.”

“Maybe it doesn't have to be the same. Maybe it can be something more.”

“Is this … a new idea?” I asked.

“No. I've thought about it for a long time.”

I tried to interpret Henry's expression, but the sun was in my eyes. Not that it mattered. I couldn't read him anymore. Maybe I never really could.

“If you felt that way, Henry, it would have been helpful if you had said something sooner. You didn't even like Hannah, but she went after you, so it was easy. That's what you always do—take the easy way out. I used to think you stayed home from school because you're so smart, you didn't need to go. But really, you stayed home because you knew I'd bring you your makeup work and tell you what you missed. You're just lazy.”

On that note, I turned and stomped into the woods, in the direction of the house. When I heard Henry behind me, I started running, at least as much as I could without tripping over a rock or stepping on a snake.

“You're going the wrong way!” he called.

I halted and looked left. Then right. Everything out here in nature looked the same—all, you know, nature-y. Randomly, I chose a direction and ran.

“Stop!” he yelled. “You'll get lost.”

I stopped. I waited. I had no choice. I couldn't survive out here on my own. I didn't like Henry much right now, but I needed him.

When he caught up to me, he was breathing hard.