Colony East (8 page)

Now Abby recognized the girl. She was the one wearing the baseball cap who had ducked inside the house across from the O’Brien’s house. Throughout the night and most of the day, Abby thought, the girl had been spying on them.

Soon, the other gang members caught up. They reminded Abby of desperate predators. She understood what had weakened them—the illness, a lack of sleep, chasing Mel over half the city—but that only made them more dangerous. They would stop at nothing to get the pills, which of course, neither she nor Mel had.

“What can they do to us?” Abby whispered.

“Run,” Mel cried and bolted.

Abby dropped her sack and ran after her friend. In a blur of thoughts, one cut the deepest. It was incredibly stupid to have dropped the bag. They needed those supplies, but it was too late to go back. She tightened her grip on the thermos.

Pumping her arms and lifting her knees, she dodged a kid on a skateboard, hopped over a corpse, and veered around a group of kids that were milling about. She felt the first drops of rain.

When the downpour started, many on the street and sidewalk scurried to their plywood shelters. It was now possible to run in a straight line, but Brad enjoyed the same advantage. Abby turned and saw that he was gaining on her. The drumbeat of his plodding feet grew louder. She expected him to pounce at any moment. If he tackled her, she’d try to gouge his eyes out. She’d have to fight him and his gang alone because Mel had just disappeared from view. Any fight would probably end quickly and not in her favor.

Abby huffed through her mouth, sucking in as much air as possible and then blowing out hard. In. Out. In. Out. Gulping oxygen, she inhaled until her lungs inflated to capacity and it felt like they were about to explode in her chest. Then she forcefully expelled the air out until her lungs felt as empty as shredded balloons.

Her pace slowed as the effort to lift her legs increased with every stride. On the Museum of Science grounds, she stumbled from a spasm in her right thigh. Immediately, she felt the spasm jump to her left thigh so both were trembling, a warning that she was about to collapse. Hobbling, she moved more and more slowly. She stumbled again, caught herself, and continued awkwardly.

Abby lost her footing on the slick pavement, and this time, she didn’t think she could recover. Pitching forward, she turned an ankle. She cried out and tensed up for a crash landing on the grass.

Mel appeared out of nowhere and caught her in her arms. Long strands of hair plastered Mel’s face, and water trickled off her chin and nose. She was a mess, but Abby had never been so happy to be face to face with a friend impersonating a drowning rat.

Abby gasped for breath. “Mel, slow down!”

“Sorry.”

Abby turned around to see a beautiful sight. The gang had also stopped. They had lost ground, too, though they were still dangerously close. Brad was wheezing. The other boy was on one knee, holding his sides. One of the girls was puking. The one with a baseball cap was hugging a light post.

Abby and Mel locked arms and continued. Abby was limping for real now. The gang immediately followed them at the same pace. It was now a race among turtles.

They crossed the McGrath-O’Brien Highway. Cars and trucks, all with skeletons behind their wheels, sat where they had crashed and come to rest a little over a year ago.

“Mel, I’m going to tell you how to find the yacht club. If I can’t make it…”

“Abby, shut up.”

“Seriously,” Abby said.

“Shut. Up.”

In a muddy lot, Mel scooped up two fist-sized rocks. “I’m going to kill them if I get a chance.”

“Mel, shut up.”

Mel held out one of the rocks. Abby accepted it reluctantly.

They took turns looking back. Coming down like liquid drills, raindrops smashed the pavement and splattered up, obscuring the view. Abby thought their chance of losing the gang completely was getting better when one of the girls fell behind and then stopped. Brad slumped over, half running, half walking in an erratic zigzag pattern.

A moment later, Mel tugged at her arm. “Faster!”

Abby turned to see that, incredibly, Brad was gaining on them again. Water exploded from the puddles that he stepped into. She tried to speed up, but she felt as if she were dragging an anchor.

Ahead, a pack of kids had sought shelter under a bridge. When she and Mel stepped out of the deluge, some of the kids eyed them with suspicion, but most with boredom.

“See those kids behind us,” Mel told them, “they have pills.”

Heads turned, and some of the kids stood. Abby saw a blade flash in one boy’s hand. Sad regret pumped through her veins. What Brad’s gang had done to Mel’s friends was unspeakable, but why put others in danger? Mel had changed more than Abby had imagined since the night of the purple moon.

They stepped out from under the bridge and into the drenching rain. Abby craned her neck when she heard a scream. One kid was on the ground. Brad was throwing wild punches and kicks. The other kids scattered, allowing Brad to continue chasing them.

Abby opened her hand and dropped her rock.

Brad was now twenty feet away. His glistening knife blade swung back and forth with every awkward stride he took. The clap of his footsteps rose above the rush of rain beating down.

Anger crackled like furious lightning in Mel’s eyes. “Hurry.” She almost pulled Abby’s arm off.

They continued, gaining and losing ground to Brad, both parties slowing down to a marathon of caterpillars.

When Abby spotted the Bunker Hill Monument, she knew that the yacht club was a quarter mile away. “We’re almost there.”

“How far can you run?” Mel asked.

Run? “About twenty yards.”

Mel scoffed. “If your life depended on it, you could only run twenty yards?”

Her life did depend on it, and Abby had first thought ten yards, but she had doubled her answer.

“I don’t think so,” Mel continued. “You can run for half a mile. Tell me when we have a half-mile to go.”

Abby’s lungs screamed for oxygen. She staggered because of cramping muscles. She was afraid of Brad, but she was just as afraid that her body would simply give out.

The bike path was just ahead. It hugged the harbor and passed close to the yacht club. They only had about two hundred yards to go, which was a lot less than the half-mile warning that Mel had asked for. Abby gritted her teeth and imagined a pack of wild animals was chasing her. The only way to escape them was to become like them, unthinking and focused, fueled by the most powerful instinct of all, the drive to survive. Did animals ever collapse from exhaustion? She was about to find out.

“Now,” Abby shouted.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Jordan reefed
Stargazer’s
sail, an action that involved rolling some of the sail around the boom to reduce the surface area of the canvas. He would sacrifice speed for safety. Salt air corroded clips and hasps, reducing the strength of the rope, and by not raising the sail fully, he would put less stress on the gear.

The boat was as ready as it was going to be. To get underway, all Jordan had to do was cut the line tied to the mooring buoy.

He inflated the raft and climbed in. The raft would hold three passengers safely. If Timmy was with Abby and Mel, Jordan would make two trips. He fixed the oars in the oarlocks, dipped the blades in the water, and pulled.

Fuzzy plumes hovered over the city. The rain looked like coal dust between the dark clouds and building tops. The wind stiffened from the approaching squall.

When the raft scraped the bottom, Jordan hopped out and sank to his ankles in silky mud. The rain was now coming down steadily, and clouds of steam boiled up at the airport. He dragged the raft toward the beach and flipped it over to prevent the wind from blowing it away. He didn’t want to have to explain to Abby that the tiny yellow dot halfway across the harbor was their raft.

He retrieved the pills from the base of the flagpole and pushed the bag deep into his wet pocket.

Just then, two people appeared at the end of the driveway. Jordan blinked and wiped his eyes. With the rain coming down harder, he couldn’t tell who they were. Except for how slowly they were approaching him, they looked like they were running—pumping arms and leaning forward. Waving the paddle in the air, Jordan ran to meet them. He saw it was Abby and Mel.

Abby, wide-eyed and panicking, gasped, “Brad’s coming!”

Jordan loped beside them, wondering if he might have to carry Abby. She stumbled and fell twice before they reached the raft. As he dragged the raft into the water, he didn’t see anyone coming down the driveway. He pointed to
Stargazer
. “That’s our way home.” When he was knee-deep, he instructed them to climb in. He pushed the raft until he was up to his waist. Then he jumped up, hugged the side, and rolled in.

He handed an oar to Abby. Admitting she was too weak to row, she passed it to Mel. With the wind at their backs, they moved at a good pace toward
Stargazer
. Gusts sent dark shivers pulsing across the water as rain pooled at their feet.

“Look!” Abby’s voice trembled. “It’s Brad. Can they get us?”

Two boys and a girl limped across the muddy beach and stood at the water’s edge.

Jordan gauged the receding shore and made some quick calculations. “We’re safe,” he told his sister, knowing that even if Brad was a strong swimmer he posed no threat to them.

The wind carried a sound that nearly caused Jordan to let go of the paddle. He traded glances with Abby and Mel. The gargling throb of the motorcycle grew louder.

“Mandy and Timmy,” Abby cried. “They changed their minds.”

Jordan watched in stunned disbelief as Mandy rode to the end of the yacht club driveway and came to a stop before the docks. Timmy hopped off the back and took off his helmet. The gang members started for them, fanning out in a semi-circle.

“Get on the bike,” Jordan said mostly to himself. “Go. We’ll wait for you.”

“Mandy never backs down.” Abby’s voice had a tone of resignation.

When Mandy took out her knife, each gang member produced a weapon. Timmy handed his backpack to Mandy, who raised her knife in one hand and held the backpack in the other. Jordan figured she’d use the pack to blunt an attack.

Timmy balled his fists, looking ready to take on anyone.

“Jordan, we have to go back,” Abby cried.

“I’m taking you and Mel to the boat,” he told them. “The raft won’t hold everyone. I’ll go back for them.” He wondered how long Mandy could keep the gang at bay.

He and Mel paddled for all they were worth until they were beside
Stargazer
. He maneuvered the raft to the stern where it would be easier for them to climb out. He held the rudder to steady the raft as Mel went first. From
Stargazer
, she helped Abby.

“Put these in the cabin.” Jordan handed Abby the bag of pills. Then he shoved off.

He wished that he had asked Mel for the paring knife. A puny weapon was better than his bare hands alone. It was too late to go back.

Squinting in the windblast, he reached out and dug the oar blade deep. He sank the shaft until his hand touched the water and then, twisting his torso for power, pulled the blade until it splashed out of the water. He thought the oar could double as a weapon.

Lowering his head, he stroked until his shoulders and upper back burned from fatigue. The raft, collecting rain, was riding lower in the water with the weight. It felt like he was paddling a sinking boat.

He nearly cried out in defeat when he looked back and saw that he’d only gone twenty feet or so. Abby, waving her arms and shouting, appeared to be a mime. The wind ripped the words from her lips and blew them in the opposite direction.

When he turned back toward shore, he saw Mandy swing her knife at Brad, who jumped back. The tall boy sneered. He seemed content to retreat and advance as part of a pack.

Jordan bent forward at the waist to lower his profile in the headwind and took shallower strokes. When he saw he was making progress with this new paddling technique, he got a boost of strength from somewhere.

Thinking he was in waist-deep water, he grabbed the raft’s towline and jumped out. He sank into the icy depths, the water going over his head.

Pushing off the bottom, he broke the surface of the water and gulped air before he sank again. Leaning forward as far as buoyancy allowed, he bounced on his toes and inched toward shore.

He beached the raft on the wet mud and flipped it over. Both oars were missing; they must have tumbled out. He scanned the water, but didn’t see either one. They’d have to paddle with their hands.

As the wind threw sheets of rain down that almost blinded him, Jordan cupped his hand over his eyes. Mandy, with Timmy at her side, was waving her knife back and forth as the menacing gang inched closer.

Jordan gulped at the sight of the gang’s arsenal. Brad and the girl each gripped knives with blades as long and lethal as Mandy’s. The other boy held a length of heavy chain, which he swung back and forth like a pendulum.

Jordan put one hand behind his back as if he were about to produce a weapon.

“Take Timmy.” Mandy threw him a look that allowed no argument.

Yeah, right!
He was not about to make two trips in a raft without oars.

Jordan waved them over. “Let’s go.”

Mandy gave the boy a tiny shove. “Go to Jordan!”

Timmy snapped back to her like an elastic band, clenching his jaw in defiance.

The girl with the knife started for Jordan. He stepped back by instinct. Not completely thawed out from his plunge, he was numb from the waist down, and he almost lost his balance and fell over. Emboldened by his retreat, she came at him faster. He kept his hand behind his back and held his ground. Then he locked eyes with her and took a step forward. She backed away, her eyes darting with doubt.

“He doesn’t have any pills,” Mandy told them. “I got ’em.”

Jordan shook his head. Did he hear her clearly? Then he realized that Mandy wanted to make sure Timmy got to
Stargazer
safely. She was planning to hold off the gang single-handedly.