G-157 (24 page)

“There’s been a lot of strays lately.”

“Stray what,” Troy asked as he skip
ped another rock across the pond
’s smooth surface.

“Stray dogs.”

“They’re not strays. That’s the Walters’ shepherd, that’s the Smith’s lab. There’s Mrs. Stonewell’s golden retriever.”

“But where are their families?”

“I don’t know,” Troy shrugged. “Maybe they’re on their way.”

“No.” Aire shook her head. “Everyone’s dog always stays by their side on the way here. They don’t run around like
little savages. See that big black lab there? The one coming out of the water?”

“Yeah.”

“That dog belongs to Chris Amos and his family. I’ve seen him running round town for the last two weeks.”

“So?”

“
So
,
I haven’t seen Chris at school for the last two weeks either.”

Troy turned his head to look at her, his eyes darkening under his scrunched brow. His knuckles turned white as he clenched the pebbles in his hand. “Why are you watching Chris?”

“Calm down crazy, I’m not watching Chris. There’s a lot of people I haven’t seen at school. I’m just saying that Chris’s dog starting running around town after Chris disappeared. That must mean something happened to his whole family too.”

“They were probably just recruited, Aire. It’s not a big deal.”

“It
is
a big deal,” she said as she stood up. “Why would the Army need a whole family? Especially one with a five-year-old?”

Troy slammed the remaining pebbles he had into the ground. “What is the big deal? They’re gone, we’re here. Why do you care? Why can’t you just accept the way things are? You’re always so uptight about everything. Why can’t you be a normal person?”

“I
am
a normal person
.
It’s everyone else around here who has something wrong with
them
.”

“So you think there’s something wrong with me?”

“Right now?  Y
eah, I do.”

“I’ve got a news flash for you, missy,” he said, pointing his finger at her. “There’s something wrong with you. You’ve always had some weird superiority complex and think you’re so much better than everyone.”

“I do not.”

“Yes you do,” he shouted. “That’s why you think you’re too good to stay in John’s Town and
that’s why you’re abandoning me
to go to some school. You think you’re smarter and better than the rest of us.”

“Is that what this is about?” She crossed her arms and sank her heels down, the guitar clutched firmly by her side. “You’re mad that I’m going
to go away to college so your
ploy to keep me here is too insult me?”

“Aire, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it,” he said as he held his hand out and began walking towards her.

“No, you did mean it, Troy.” She jumped down from the boulder and picked up her pack, strapping the guitar over her shoulder.

“Aire, please. I said I’m sorry.”

“No,” she said, spinning on her heel to face him and point
ing
a finger back at him. “You’re not sorry, you’re an idiot.”

“But-“

“No, you get away from me. Don’t talk to me until
you
can act like a normal
person
.”

She spun back around and stomped across the grass, her black hair whipping
behind her
. His temples throbbed as he watched her walk away. His breathing quickened, and
he clenched his fists
as his fingers began to numb.  A strong ring pitched in his ears, growing louder and louder as his face reddened. His body shook from the rage boiling within.

The Walters’ shepherd sat down in front of him, his tongue hanging out as he waited
for
the boy to pet him. Troy continued to stare ahead, watching Aire fade into the distance. She was
leaving
him. She was
choosing
to leave him.

Blood trickled from his palms as his fingernails buried deeper into his skin. She wasn’t going to leave him. She would
always
be with him. He’d make sure of that.

The shepherd barked, impatient for Troy’s attention. He glared down at the dog, his lips curled in a sneer. His foot lashed out
and gave
it a hard kick in the ribs
.
I
t let out a y
elp
and
hobbled away, its limping steps slowing as it
crossed the meadow. Troy smiled as he watched the dog collapse into the grass.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Monday May 3, 2010

Population: 239

She felt empty. Not speaking to Troy made her uneasy, increased the loneliness she felt. Twice on Sunday she had almost gone over to his house to talk it over with him. She’d made it to the sidewalk on the second attempt, but turned arou
nd instead. She was still angry, and a
ny conversation would be pointless until she cooled down.

She took a deep breath and pulled her shoulders back when she saw him sitting in their first hour class. Holding her head high, she walked by without looking at him and took her seat. She could feel his eyes boring into her the whole hour, could almost hear him whispering to her to turn around. She kept her eyes forward, never taking them off Mrs. Finch the entire agonizing hour.

He tapped her shoulder when the bell rang.

“Yes,” she said, still averting her eyes from him as she packed her bag.

“I really don’t like not talking to you.”

“Well, then maybe you shouldn’t say stupid things when you do
talk
to me.”

“I know,” he said. “I was a dumb jerk and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any of those things. I was just upset.”

She glanced up at him.
Heavy bags drooped under his bloodshot eyes from sleepless nights, and a feeling of victory washed over her
.

“Okay.”

“Do you forgive me?
” he asked.

“Maybe,” she said, and threw her backpack over her shoulder as she stood up.

“Look,” he said, stepping in front of her. “I truly am sorry. Let me make it up to you. Can I take you to Maggie’s after school?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m going to talk to Doc about my mother after school, remember?”

“How about after you get done? Like four o’clock?”

“Okay,” she said, allowing a smile to break through. “And don’t be late.”

“Great. I’ll be there.”

“Okay.”

“Can I walk you to your next class?”

“Hmm,” she said, tapping her finger on her chin and looking at the ceiling. “I don’t know.”

“Please?”

She laughed and looped her arms around his. “Of course.”

“Thanks,” he said, his smile broadening.

She felt lighter the rest of the day, thankful her show down with Troy was over. Her step had a slight bounce in it on her brisk walk to Dr. Caughlin
’s after school, but it quickly disappeared as t
he heaviness of her mind returned when she entered the practice. Darlene was at her desk, painting her nails with her shoes kicked off like always. The old door still creaked and groaned as she struggled to close it behind her. The same smells still filled her nose as she sat on the broken chair. She felt something was off though, something she couldn’t name.

“I was wondering when you’d be back,” Darlene said.

“It’s been a while. I came to see Doc about my mother.”

“One sec, I’ll get him for you.” Darlene stood up and grabbed the broom by her desk and began to pound the ceiling. “Doc,” she shouted. “Aire’s here to see you. Get up.”

Aire shook her head. “It never changes.”

“I know,” Darlene said, laughing as she checked to see if the broom had smudged her fresh nail polish. “It’s a wonder the man stays in business.”

“Supply and demand.” Both girls turned to see the doctor lumbering down the stairs. “I’m the only supply of
physicians in town, so people demand to see me when they need to. In a small town it makes for a restful life. Come on, Aire.”

The doctor shuffled into the exam room and plopped down onto his stool while Aire sprung lightly onto the table.

“So,” he said, removing his glasses to clean them. “What brings you by today?”

“My mother.”

“Your mother?
What’s wrong with her?”

“She just stays in bed all day and won’t eat. She says she’s just tired, but I think there’s more to it than that. It’s like she gave up on life, like there’s nothing but sadness.”

“Huh,” he grunted, returning his glasses to his face. Spinning in his chair, he turned to the cabinet and shuffled through its contents
and produced
an orange plastic bottle with a white twist top. “Here. Have your mother take two of these twice a day. That should get her back to normal in no time.”

“What is it?”

“Vitamin B-12 supplements.”

Aire frowned. “You think my mother has a vitamin deficiency?”

“Yes. A person deficient in B-12 la
cks coordination and
cognition, loses energy, and can suffer memory loss. Give these about a week and you should start seeing improvements.”

“Okay.” Aire ran her finger over the label. “Doc, you had to study biology and ecosystems in school, right?”

“Right.”

“And you know a lot about diseases?”

“Wouldn’t be a doctor if I didn’t.”

“Do you think there’s something wrong with our water?”

Dr. Caughlin frowned. “What do you mean?”

“A lot of people are acting like my mom. And with all the fights and craziness going on I…I don’t know,” she shrugged. “I thought maybe there might be a bug or something going around.”

“Could be,” he nodded. “I wouldn’t rule it out. But sometimes things like that just happen.”

Aire frowned again, hesitating. “Why do people get recruited?”

“Because the military needs people to keep us safe.”

“I know,” she said, “but why do people only get recruited when they start going a little crazy?”

“Because those people show signs of higher emotional levels necessary for the armed services. Plus they usually have something unique about them already.” The doctor shook his head and made a
tsk-tsk
noise at her. “Aire, you’re such a smart girl, why would you ask such a silly question?”