Escape from Eden (31 page)

Out of all the odd things in the pantry, those containers were the strangest. Why such a vast quantity? Is that how the Reverend planned on killing the Flock? With poisoned drinks?

On the top shelf I spotted an unmarked box. I opened the top and saw seven vials of a whitish powder, but there were indented spaces in the Styrofoam lining for ten. Three must have been used for the Bright Night cookies.

“I found it,” I said. I was certain that these were what I saw Agatha hiding in her apron that made the clinking noise in her pocket the day we baked the cookies.

“Found what?” Bridgette asked.

Without answering her, I took the box from the shelf, carefully scooped out the remaining vials, and replaced it with the lid securely in place. I held one of the vials up to the light. The powder inside was white, crystalized. It looked a lot like salt or sugar to me.

“I’m kitchen manager, Mia,” she said. “What is that?”

“Poison,” I said.

“Poison, what for?”

I cast her a meaningful look. “To kill the Flock. Remember the cookies, Bridgette?”

“Oh,” she said. “Those greedy fools deserved it. Planning on making another batch?”

Gabriel let her go. “I can’t even touch her,” he said.

I turned on the water at a prep sink near one of the large cutting boards and poured the poison down the drain.

“Not one word to anyone about this, got it?” I said. “Or I tell Thaddeus about you and Freddie.”

She blinked back tears. “We’re in love, you know.”

“I’m sure you are,” Gabriel said flatly.

Bridgette whipped her head toward him. “We are. It’s just … the Reverend won’t let us be together. He said that Freddie isn’t going to be courting me. He’s been chosen for someone else.”

“It’s all very interesting, Bridgette,” I said, “but I’m trying to concentrate here.” I opened the next vial and spilled the crystal powder into the running water.

“Really, Mia?” Bridgette said. “Because Freddie was chosen for you.”

I stopped, stunned into silence. Bridgette stood, hands on hips, her glare as sharp as the knives hanging on the magnetic strip behind her.

“Well,” Gabriel said to me with a falsely pleasant, strange smile. “At least you know what you’re getting now, huh? No surprises.”

Before I could say anything, Bridgette lunged for him with her nails out like a cat’s claws.

“You bastard!” she cried.

He held up his hands, shielding his face. “I was kidding!”

“Bridgette,” I said in the most calming voice I could muster. “Stop or else … ” It seemed to draw her attention from Gabriel. I picked up another vial and emptied it. “I can guarantee you Freddie is not interested in courting me. From what I—” I stopped for a second. “From what I can tell, he’s very interested in you.”

A small grin crept up her face. “Good.” But then her lip, stretched into that upturned smile, began to tremble. “But we can’t be together. The Reverend won’t allow it.”

“Why not?” I asked.

Bridgette threw her arms out to her sides. “Because he makes the decisions, Mia. He’s the one we answer to. We serve him.”

“You are so brainwashed,” Gabriel said.

“Shut up,” Bridgette said. “All you are is a boy slut who was dragged here to Edenton by your parents to cleanse you of your disgusting sins.”

Gabriel didn’t move, didn’t say anything back, only lowered his chin to his chest and glowered at her. After a few seconds of tense silence, he asked, “How do you know about that?”

“Some of us are more privy to information than others, Gabriel. I heard about your ways well before you got here.”

I had the sense then not to ask what she meant, even though I had a good clue, considering what he’d said about drugs and tattoos–and what he didn’t say about the girls in New York.

I pinned her with a pointed glare. “What happened in our lives before Edenton doesn’t matter, Bridgette.”

“Yeah, well … ” Bridgette fiddled with the hem of her skirt. “Look, you have your poison.” She waved a hand at the remaining full vials by the sink. “I won’t say anything if you don’t say anything about Freddie.” She shifted her eyes to Gabriel and back to me again. “And if you refuse to court Freddie.”

Freddie was a sweet, good guy but I did just see him in a very intimate position with Bridgette. “Of course I’ll refuse to court Freddie.”

“Won’t matter soon anyway,” Gabriel said.

“What does that mean?” Bridgette asked.

“Nothing,” I said and reached for another vial. As I unscrewed the cap, I heard a sound outside the kitchen door.

“Someone’s coming,” Gabriel whispered.

Bridgette threw a smirk in my direction. “Might be Agatha,” she said.

I shoved all the vials into the pocket of my dress and quickly locked the pantry, throwing the key to Bridgette. She frowned as she slipped it onto her wrist.

The kitchen door swung open. Freddie walked in. Grizz was huge, and Freddie was close to his size. I’d never noticed Freddie’s potential menace until we were in the kitchen, after hours, with his … girlfriend? I’d seen him naked, and he shouldn’t have seemed quite as scary. Shouldn’t have.

His dark eyes looked Gabriel and me over with suspicion, then focused on Bridgette. “What’s going on?”

“Found my key!” she smiled, holding up her wrist.

“Good.” He swung an open palm to us. “What are they doing here?”

“Well, Mia?” Bridgette asked. “What are you doing here?”

No help from her, then. I stood silently, blinking rapidly, trying to think of an excuse. I was growing tired of all the acting—the lying. I wasn’t a natural liar.

Gabriel reached up and placed his hand on Freddie’s shoulder. Freddie looked down at it as if his hand were made from flesh-eating acid.

“Fred,” Gabriel said. “Got some news. Looks like we’re going to have to blackmail you.”

“Didn’t we just blackmail Bridgette?” I asked him.

“You did!” Bridgette said with a perfect pout that made Freddie’s eyes cloud with doubt.

Freddie swiped Gabriel’s hand away. “Mia, what’s this about?”

“Uh.” I stuck my hands in my pockets, one touching the vials of poison, the other fingering the microphone. The idea struck, so obvious and clear that I couldn’t believe I didn’t think of it earlier. “Freddie, you know the back gate? The one through the jungle that leads to the administrative section of Edenton?”

Freddie glanced around uncomfortably. “Yeah.”

“You think you can leave that unlocked?”

He tilted his head to the side. “Why, Mia?”

I glanced at Gabriel. He smiled a knowing, crooked smile. I smiled back, because despite it all, his sudden coldness that night on the mountain, the push-pull earlier in the tunnel, he was with me, here in Edenton.

I reached in my pocket and touched the microphone. All the network needed was a location, the code to enter the tunnels, and the invasion could begin.

Dawn approached quickly, the sky lightening over the trees in the East. Bridgette and I rushed back to our cottage to change for breakfast prep before the other girls woke.

The vials clinked together in my pocket. By the time we’d talked to Freddie, it was late and I expected Agatha in the kitchen at any moment. I’d have to figure out a way to get the vials back into the pantry during or after breakfast.

Inside our cottage, Dina and Aliyah were still asleep in their bunks, the thin gray light seeping into the room. I sat on my empty bed, still made from the day before, and unlaced my boots. Bridgette did the same, but with a sour look on her perfectly sculpted face. I glanced up at Lily’s bunk, then down at Juanita’s, both deserted, tautly made, the blankets flawless and stretched so tight a button could bounce off of them. Their set of bunk beds was like an abandoned ship, a ghost ship, anchored to the floor of our cottage. An everyday reminder of what the Reverend had done.

I scooped a change of uniform from my trunk and headed into the bathroom. Immediately, I poured the rest of the poison into the toilet and flushed it.

“Hurry up,” Bridgette said, banging on the door.

I changed, brushed my teeth, pulled my hair back in a ponytail, and placed the empty vials in the pocket of my skirt. I swung the door open with all the energy I had left in me.

I grinned at Bridgette. “Do you think I look pretty?” I asked her.

“No,” she said. “You never look pretty.”

I held out my hand. “Give me the key back or I’ll go ask Freddie if he thinks I look pretty.”

“Why are you being so mean?” she asked me, taking the bracelet off and handing it to me.

“Stress.”

I dropped it in my pocket as Bridgette slipped past me into the bathroom and slammed the door. I was being mean, and I knew it. But sometimes that’s what Bridgette reacted to best: a spoonful of her own bitter medicine.

“You guys are up early,” Aliyah said, rubbing her eyes.

“I didn’t sleep much,” I said.

She looked worried, her skin creasing between her dark, thin brows. I knew what she was thinking. That I couldn’t sleep because of my Prayer Circle experience. I had to tell her the truth at some point, about the network. I wouldn’t have to blackmail her for help.

Dina hopped out of her bunk, and as she and Aliyah were pulling uniforms from their trunks, we heard a knock at the door. Before I could answer it, the door swung open. He stood in the doorway like a big tree, thick arms branching out on either side, clutching the jamb.

“Girls,” Thaddeus said, ignoring Aliyah and Dina in their varying states of undress and staring directly at me. “Would you please make way?”

I stepped back away from the door and Freddie rolled in a wheelchair. Sitting in that wheelchair, a chalk-white sheet tucked up to her chin, was Juanita. My heart slammed into my ribs at the sight of her. Freddie parked the chair next to her bunk.

I whispered her name but kept my distance. Her eyes were open, but they were blank and glassy. Strands of dark hair escaped the elastic tie at the nape of her neck and hung around her drawn face.

Aliyah threaded her arms through her uniform dress and rushed to her side. “What happened to her?” she asked, stroking the skin along Juanita’s hand with her fingers, and skimming them along her arm, near the tape that anchored a tube running from her arm to a bag of liquid hanging on the back of the wheelchair.

“Accidental gunshot wound in the village where she was volunteering,” Thaddeus said.

Freddie stood behind him with a grim expression. He then escaped the cottage without a word.

“Gunshot?” Dina asked.

I stood staring at Juanita. She was as pale as the sheet draped over her, dark circles like purple bruises beneath her eyes. I could barely believe she was here. What did she remember? From her deadened gaze, it seemed she didn’t remember much of anything. Or even heard what we were saying. I blinked out of my daze.

“Why isn’t she in the infirmary?” I asked quietly.

Thaddeus was quiet for a moment, his eyes still on me. He said, “We’re waiting for the new doctor to arrive.”

“New doctor?” Aliyah asked. “Where is Doc Gladstone?”

I said nothing and hoped my blank expression didn’t betray the fact that I knew what happened to Doc Gladstone.

“He’s unavailable,” Thaddeus said. “The Reverend will explain when he is ready.”

“If she was shot, shouldn’t she be in the hospital?” I asked, finding my voice.

“She was discharged from the hospital in San Sebastian earlier.” His dismissive tone sent ice through my veins. “I’ve asked Nurse Ivy to check on Juanita, but she’s held up on an assignment for the Reverend. She’ll be here when she’s finished up.” He inclined his head in our direction. “Until later, ladies.”

As soon as he was gone, I joined Aliyah at Juanita’s side. I knelt down next to the wheelchair and placed my palm on Juanita’s forehead, unsure why. But it seemed like the appropriate thing to do with my shaking hands. She smelled of adhesive and pungent alcohol and something I couldn’t place, something lost and foreign. Her eyes remained unfocused, the distance in them frightening me.

Too softly for Aliyah to hear, I whispered, “I’m sorry,” into Juanita’s ear. “I’m sorry for leaving you alone.” She didn’t react.

“What is she doing here?” Bridgette asked, standing in the bathroom doorway. She stared at Juanita as if she were laced with writhing maggots.

“She’s here to recover,” I said.

“From what?”

“A gunshot,” Dina said as she blinked back tears. She looked away from Juanita and focused on tying her shoes. “It happened while she was helping the poor.”

Images rushed back from that night, the memory raging out of control for a second. I fought the urge to cry.

“A gunshot?” Bridgette asked. She swung a look at me. “I can’t believe you left her alone in that village.”

“Bridgette!” Aliyah said. “They didn’t choose to leave her. They followed the Reverend’s orders.” She turned to me. “Right Mia?”

“Of course I didn’t want to leave her,” I said, trying to hide the hitch in my voice. In my mind, all I saw was Juanita, laid out on the black asphalt of that jungle road with black blood seeping through her red dress.

Juanita mumbled something.

“What, Juanita?” Aliyah asked.

Juanita’s eyes remained unfocused. “Don’t leave me alone,” she whispered. “Don’t leave me.”

Guilt tightened my chest. I rose to my feet and brought my hand to my throat. I heaved a sob I couldn’t hold back.

“Of course you didn’t want to leave her,” Bridgette said to me with a hint of malice. “Come on girls, we have breakfast duty.”

“Wait!” I said. “We can’t leave Juanita. You just said—”

“We’re leaving her in our very safe cottage. Not in the middle of a strange village.”

I glanced down at Juanita, then thought of the vials in my pocket. I needed to refill them and get them back into the pantry before anyone noticed they were gone.

“I’ll stay,” Aliyah said.

“You can’t,” Bridgette said. “We’re short-handed.” She gestured at Lily’s empty bunk, and at Juanita.

“Get the girls from the laundry to help,” Aliyah said and sat on the bunk next to Juanita. “I’m staying here.”

“Then Mia,” Bridgette said, “you need to work harder to make up for it.”