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Authors: Lillian Bowman

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BOOK: Anathema
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CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
 

“You’ve been busy.”

Russell is the last one in the hallway with me. I look up at him, feeling like I’m staring at him through a fog. Barely suppressed glee is on every pane of his face.

“Wow, the anathema behind the Shelter Valley Massacre. Who knew?” He laughs. “I’m gonna love seeing you butchered for this.

My parents keep texting. Their words scroll across the top of my screen.

We are heading home now.

We are on highway one. We’ll be there in an hour…

When we get home, we’ll pack your things and come pick you up at school …

“Go away, Russell.”

“No, no. I want a picture of this moment,” he says, pulling out his own phone. “Just for the record. So I can see this for the rest of my—”

“She said go away, Russ!”

The new voice startles us both. Russell and I look up as Amanda stalks towards us. She steps between us, hostility in every line of her body.

“So,” Russell says, sneering. “You’re picking sides.”
“I’ve already picked sides. I pick my best friend, not a perverted psychopath.”

“Your best friend is already dead,” Russell spits at her. “Maybe I’ll wait for her bounty to rise and take it myself.”

Amanda suddenly shoves him back against the locker. He’s startled enough to let her. “You touch her, or you go near her again, and I’ll make you sorry.”

I stare at them both, dazed.

Amanda suddenly lashes out with her arm, hitting it against the locker. Russell stares at her in utter confusion. A malevolent smile plays across her lips. She pulls back, cupping the faintly reddened skin of her arm, rubbing it.

“Ouch, Russ.”

“What?” Russell says.

“You grabbed my arm so hard,” Amanda says, mock innocently.

“I didn’t grab your arm. You hit your own arm.”

“Yet nobody saw it. It’s just my word against yours, and I say you grabbed my arm and shook me. I wonder what other injuries I could give myself and blame on you.”

“Are you serious—”

“After all,” Amanda adds venomously, “who would ever believe I was faking them? You’re the psychopath with a history of violence. I hear your hunting guild had an epic meltdown last night because you were too crazy for them. I, on the other hand, am the leader of the dance squad. I’ll get half the school to cosign anything I say about you. Then you’ll be the anathema.”

He catches his breath, suddenly catching onto what she’s suggesting.

Amanda’s eyes glitter with malice. “I can make sure you lose citizenship. I think you’d better stay away from Kat and never touch her again.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” he whispers.

“Try me. Please, Russ. Just try
.

He can’t seem to hold her eyes. Strange how I’ve held a machete up to him and smashed his face with a brick, yet he looks more terrified of Amanda than he’s ever been of me. Russell stumbles back from us both and staggers off down the hallway.

Amanda and I both stare after him in the thickening silence, and then she turns to me. The temptation to burst into tears sweeps over me. I swallow hard to keep my emotions in check.

“Is it true?” she asks me. “Was that you in the video everyone’s passing around?”

“Yeah.” There’s no point lying. “It’s true.”

 
“How did it happen?”

I sink down to the ground and sag my head against the wall. My brain is throbbing. “I told the
Showdown
people I’d give them Alexander. Then I led them into an ambush. A bunch of other anathemas were there. They killed them. For what it’s worth…”

“What?”

“I didn’t actually think the
Showdown
people would
all
end up dead.”

She kneels down in front of me, her face grave. “Have you looked at your bounty in the last few minutes?” She holds her phone in front of me.

My eyes drift to the screen. Look at that. Already up by another twenty-thousand. The family and friends of
Showdown
people move quickly. Soon it’ll be higher than Alexander’s.

 
“My bounty’s going to be the highest of anyone I know,” I note. “Wonder if I’ll live long enough to reach number one?”

“Take this seriously, Kat!”

“Why? I’m as good as dead, Amanda. I might as well look on the bright side.”

“You can’t think that way.”

I swallow down the hurt feelings that swell up inside me. “I didn’t think you’d care.”

“How can you ask me that?” Her eyes fill with tears. She blurs before me and I realize mine have, too. Like that, the ice breaks between us, and our arms are around each other.

“You should have told me,” she weeps in my ear. “You should’ve told me Russ was doing that to you.”

“I didn’t want
this
to happen.” Anger sparks inside me. “You haven’t even been talking to me!”

“Why do you think? You’re my best friend. You’re like my sister. You didn’t tell that my boyfriend was harassing you! You didn’t trust me enough to let me know I was dating a burgeoning sex offender!”

Put that way, I’m definitely the one in the wrong here. “I’m sorry. You’re right. Thank you for choosing me.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t do the right thing earlier. I didn’t want to believe it.” She buries her head against my shoulder. “I could kill him, Kat. I’m so mad at him.”

I laugh through my tears. “Some anathema will do it for you. Someday.” Despite everything, I’m so happy. My best friend. Back again. I haven’t lost her.

Amanda pulls back, her eyes wide. “What are we going to do now? You won’t be safe here anymore.”

I haven’t been safe here for a long time. “I don’t know.”

Silence lapses between us. We’re sitting side by side against the wall on the floor of the hallway, cool plaster under us, fluorescent lights humming overhead. Gray clouds hang outside the high windows, casting pale white light across the lockers. I’ve faced imminent death so many times since losing citizenship that I almost can’t worry about it anymore. My eyes find her phone again, with my profile on the core hunting database displayed.

“What do you know,” I say, “I’m an HI-4 now.”

I don’t know when they changed my hazard index, but there it is.
“History of violence. Likely to be armed. Approach with caution.”

I’m officially scary.

Suddenly Amanda bolts to her feet. “What do you want?” Her voice rings with hostility.

I look up quickly, expecting Russell to have returned.

It’s Alexander. He’s breathless like he’s run this whole way. One of his hands is inside his coat like he’s gripping a weapon. He ignores her. “I take it you heard?”

“Yeah, it’s hard to miss the looks of terror,” I reply.

His lips curve. “Welcome to being me.”

My heart give a curious flutter at his smile.

“Wait, you two are friends all of a sudden?” Amanda says, looking between us.

Alexander flicks her a brief, irritated look then says to me, “Can she be trusted?”

“Can
I
be trusted?” Amanda cries. “Excuse me, who do
you
think
you
are?”

“Alexander’s saved my life,” I tell her. “He’s been teaching me to survive.”

Her eyes narrow. “Fine,” she says.

“And Amanda’s my best friend,” I say to Alexander. “Anything you say to me, you can say in front of her.”

Alexander give a short jerk of his head. “Then listen closely: you need to leave town. Today.” He pulls something out of his coat then, and I realize it’s a scrap of paper. “These people are missionaries of sorts. They help anathemas. They can smuggle you to Mexico.”

I stare at the paper numbly. It’s an address.

“Pack one bag, essentials only,” he says. “Bring cash.”

“Wait, wait,” Amanda blurts. “You want her to go to Mexico?”

“It’s safer than staying here.”

“Yeah, safer… If she doesn’t get butchered by the drug cartels. What makes you think she’s any safer down there? Cartels sell American anathemas to people over the border all the time. I’ve heard about that. Everyone has!”

“At least in Mexico, cartels can be avoided if she works with the right people. Hunters can’t be avoided here. They’re everywhere. She’s about to become the most famous anathema in the country. She has a better chance of survival if she gets out of the country now.”

“She doesn’t even speak Spanish! Or like tacos!”

“She can learn Spanish and there’s a lot of food in Mexico apart from tacos,” Alexander says, growing impatient.

 
“Guys!” I interrupt quickly, rising to my feet to step between them. “My parents are going to want to have a say. I can’t just decide this on my own.”

My heart begins thumping. A myriad of faces whirl through my mind, the hunters who video blog on YouTube, the ones on TV. All those potential killers who might be heading out on the road for my $25,000 bounty right now. “Look, Mom and Dad texted that they’re going to pack my things and pick me up here—”

“You can’t wait that long,” Alexander cuts in. “This school is the first place anyone will look for you. Tell your parents to meet you at home, and then go there now.”

His words make me shiver, remind me that there are probably people heading to Cordoba Bay already.

“I’ll drive you, sweetie,” Amanda says, grabbing my hand.

It makes sense. Then we can leave as soon as my parents get there. I start to leave with her, but Alexander doesn’t come with us.

Of course. Of course, he wouldn’t. He’d have no reason to leave school. I turn around, realizing with a start that I may be leaving all of this behind. I may be leaving
him
behind.

His blue eyes peer at me, his face carefully neutral, always wary beneath his fringe of coal black hair. For a moment, where he stands in the empty hallway, he looks utterly alone. A burning sensation leaps up my throat.

“Thanks, Alexander.”

He nods.

I don’t know what I was hoping for. Maybe for him to cross the hallway towards me, to take me in his arms. To show some sign I’m not deluded, thinking there’s something between us. If he won’t, though, then I’m going to do it. I pull my hand from Amanda’s grip and step towards him.

And then there are footsteps behind me, and I’m whirled around, pulled against a strong chest. My nose smashes into a letter jacket, the familiar scent of Conrad in my nose. “Kat, you okay? I bailed on class when I heard what people are saying.”

“Conrad, I’m fine!” And by the time I push back from him, Alexander is already disappearing down the hallway like a shadow fading at sunset.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
 

Conrad and Amanda get me home in one piece. They wait with me while I pack, and don’t leave until my parents get home. Conrad moves to kiss me. I plant a hand on his chest at the last moment.

“Conrad, wait.” I consider it a moment, then give him a hug. Just a hug. His heart thumps against my cheek. “I’ll always care about you, but we can’t do this. Let’s face it: we’re probably never going to see each other again. You’re free.”

“But—”

“Move on. For me.”

This is as kind a way to break up with him as I can think of. Amanda is far more clever than him. I can tell from her face that she’s already figured out I’m dumping him in the nicest way possible.

“Conrad, start my car. Go,” Amanda orders him, shoving her keys into his hand.

He staggers out. Then Amanda draws me into a ferocious hug. “When this is all over,” she whispers in my hair, “get in contact with me again. I’ll come visit you in Mexico. Or France. Or even like, Sierra Leone or whatever. Just say alive.”

My throat clogs. “I’ll miss you, Mandy.” This is the worst part of leaving. The worst.

 

After I deadbolt the door behind them, I run upstairs. Mom is still frantic. She’s upset I ignored their texts and came home, and even more upset over the massacre thing.

“You need to explain yourself, young lady—” she begins.

“Pack first,” Dad urges her. “We’ll have time to clarify the situation in the car.”

“Where are we going?” I ask them.

“We’ll go camping out in the woods somewhere until this blows over,” Dad decides.

Mom halts, suddenly realizing it. “Frank, we can’t both leave work. We won’t have jobs to return to afterward. What if we run out of money? Someone needs to stay here.”

“She’ll be safer with me,” Dad insists.

“You make more than—”

“Mom! Dad!” I cry, bringing their attention back to me. They both look flustered. A strange sensation creeps over me just like I felt the day at the courthouse. My parents are afraid. They don’t have the answers. They’re making it up as they go along. Just like I am.

I hold out the scrap of paper. “Look, the other anathema at my school gave me this.”

Mom snatches it from my hand, examines it critically.

“They’re missionaries,” I explain. “They smuggle anathemas to Mexico.”

She scoffs. “Mexico?”

“I’ll take it over an endless camping trip.”

“How do you even know these people are who he says they are? You can’t trust an—” She catches herself at the last moment, realizing she was about to tell her anathema daughter not to trust anathemas. “This won’t work.”

“Why not? It’s better than ruining both your lives to fix mine. I have to go.”

Her lips firm. “These could be human traffickers. They might just want to get their hands on a cute little blonde girl.”

I smile. “Good thing I’m brunette now, huh?”

“Kathryn,” she bursts out, and flings her arms around me. I embrace her. Dad’s averted his eyes like he’s trying not to show emotion himself. I hate what I’ve done to my parents. This has to stop.

Then there’s a pounding on our front door.

Mom goes rigid in my arms. My breath catches in my throat. Dad pales.

No.

The pounding goes on. Multiple fists thumping the door. I can’t move. Already. There are already hunters here. How did they get here so soon?

Mom jerks back from me, her face hard with resolve. “They can’t come in the house as long as one of us is here.” She cups my cheek. “Let me handle this.”

“Lydia—” Dad begins.

“Stay with her, Frank!”

Dad pulls a baseball bat out of his closet, and takes a position at the top of the stairs so he can watch the front door. I creep up so I can peer from behind Dad’s shoulder. Mom marches down resolutely. She seems to pause to muster her courage a moment. Then she yanks it open.

The sight startles me.

It’s Liam the anathema. He lurks in the doorway with his scruffy brown hair to his shoulders, his battered leather coat. A deranged smile of greeting – too wide – lurks on his gaunt face.

“Good day, ma’am. Can Katie come out to play?”

“Who are you?” Mom demands. “Get away from our house!”

“Not going to happen today, unfortunately.” Liam shoves past her and saunters into the house. “Oi, Katie Grant!”

“What do you think you’re doing?” Mom screams. “You can’t just walk in here! It’s breaking an entering!”

“Ah ah, correction,” Liam holds up a fingers. “Law abiding citizens in good-standing can’t just bust in here. They’re breaking and entering. I am not a law abiding citizen in good standing, hence I am merely abiding by my nature and wreaking shameless havoc.” He halts at the foot of the stairs, spotting me. “Katie, my darling! Have you missed me?”

“You stop right there,” Dad threatens, holding up his bat.

“Wait, wait! I know him!” I yell, and dash past my father to meet Liam on the stairs. “He’s not a hunter!”

Despite my reassurances, the sight of him still chills my blood. I look at him and remember Wasters with chainsaws and guns. Liam grins ferociously, his eyes dancing with his usual deranged enjoyment. “You’re in a bit of a fix, aren’t you, you naughty girl?”

“Mom, it’s okay!” I shout quickly, because she’s approaching behind him with a paperweight in hand. “He’s…” I look at Liam, groping for the right words. I can’t find them, so I say, “He’s a friend.”

“There are hunters of all sorts converging on this town. You should see their tweets,” Liam says. “It’s all in good fun and very delightful, but I’m afraid you’re not going to get very far if you run. First petrol stop and you’ll be gutted. I have a better option: come with us.” He holds out a hand with thin, tobacco-stained fingers. “We came to offer the protection of your fellow outcasts.”

Out of all the options I face right now, this is the best. Join the Wasters.

My options seriously suck.

“Give me a minute,” I say, then rush up to grab my bag. I tear back down the stairs and I take his hand. His skin feels cold. “Let’s go.”

“Excuse me?” Mom roars, stepping in his path. “You’re not going anywhere with my daughter.”

Liam laughs and tugs me with him. “You’re not about to stop me.” He reaches inside his coat. I lunge forward to grab his arm before he can pull a weapon of any sort. He does
not
get to threaten my parents!

“Mom, Dad,” I say quickly, “trust me, he’s got a lot of people with him. They can…”I search his face, uncertain. “They can keep me a lot safer than I’ll be anywhere else.”

“It’s true. We’re a nasty sort,” Liam agrees. His hand tightens on mine as he pulls me with him.

“I can’t explain right now, Mom.”

“Kathryn!” Mom cries, following me as Liam and I move through the front door.

Just as I suspected, there’s a whole retinue of cars out here, Wasters at the wheels. Their arms and cigarettes hang from the window, curious faces peering out at us. Mom and Dad halt stock-still in the doorway. Dad has his cell phone out, his jaw hanging open. He obviously brought it to ID Liam. He didn’t expect to see this many anathemas in one place.

“We’ll take excellent care of your daughter. Tally-ho!” Liam calls, throwing them a mock salute. He impatiently gestures me into a car, and then leaps into the driver’s seat.

I look over at the backseat and see Noelle and a large boy. Her face is tense, her lips a tight line. Liam starts up the car, and then we’re lurching off down the street. I look back once at my parents, standing on the front lawn, mute with dismay and helplessness.

It’s better this way,
I think. I’ll go off with the anathemas and become a Waster. I won’t drag them down with me.

But misery fills my heart. I watch my house until I can’t see it anymore, fearful I’ll never live there again.

BOOK: Anathema
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