Half Lives (12 page)

Up ahead I saw a biggish lump on the side of the road. I wasn’t used to seeing animals that were my size on the roadside. I hadn’t considered that there would be wildlife when I
jumped out of the taxi. I scanned the landscape. What scary creatures lived out here? Bears? Lions? Tigers? Man-eating gorillas? I didn’t know. I’d napped or sneak-texted through most
of biology and geography. I was starting to think I’d slept through most of my short, insignificant life.

I kept my distance from the roadkill. I didn’t need some half-dead hyena taking a bite out of me. I’d seen
Aliens
– or was it
Predator
? – where they
thought the thing was dead only to have it rear up and attack. And my dad said I was wasting my time watching all those horror movies! He could never have imagined that they would end up becoming a
handy survival guide.

The lump on the roadside twitched. Marissa and I screamed and grabbed for each other.

Wait a minute
. Was that animal wearing a polo shirt?

The thing groaned. It wasn’t the growl of a bear. It was human but, in this scenario, humans were probably the most deadly creatures of all. I had to get away from whatever it was. I
looked for oncoming traffic. The coast was clear. I started to cross.

‘Shouldn’t we try to help?’ Marissa asked, holding me back.

Normally I’d think she was right, but right now everything and everyone was my enemy. I wasn’t taking any chances.

‘Hey, are you OK?’ she shouted to the lump.

Between video games,
CSI
s and horror movies, I probably averaged fifty dead bodies a day. This was different. Flies were collecting and covering the body while a buzzard, an actual
buzzard, circled overhead.

‘What . . . the . . . hell . . . do . . . you . . . think?’ the voice was weak and the words were spoken painstakingly slowly. ‘Help me.’ It was a boy, maybe twelve or
thirteen, and he was trying to push himself up. Rusty-brown patches of blood covered his body. His curly hair was blond under a layer of dust. His face was badly bruised, but everything seemed to
be attached, thank God. He blinked up at us. His eyes were blue, but not a pale, watery blue like mine. His eyes were a bright blue, like a neon sign.

Marissa went into some sort of rescue mode. She took one of the bottles of water from her goodie bag, unscrewed the lid, and tilted the bottle to his lips. He half drank, half spat the water. He
unfolded a little, becoming more human.

‘I’m Tate Chamberlain.’ He said the name as if it should mean something to us, to everyone. ‘Tate Cham-ber-lain,’ he said again, slowly, as if we might not have
heard him the first time. ‘My dad owns Ozuye. You know, the big new casino on the Strip.’

Even though he was covered with blood and dirt and had a stain down his leg that I was pretty sure was urine, his tan trousers still had a crisp crease down the centre and his golf-course-green
polo shirt was branded by some designer.

‘I’m Marissa and this is Icie,’ Marissa said, as if we were tied together. Marissa-and-Icie 4 eva.

I maintained a safe distance. My calves were tight and ready to flee. ‘Are you sick?’ I asked, praying for him to give the right answer.

‘No,’ he said as if that was a stupid question.

I relaxed a little, even though the boy was the eye in a tornado of flies.

‘So what are you doing out here in the middle of nowhere, looking like the losing end of a prize-fight?’ Marissa asked.

‘Don’t you know?’ he said, perking up a bit more. ‘Everything is out of control. I mean, there are rumours of terrorist attacks. My dad heard one report, on a private
security channel, that thousands of people were already infected with some deadly virus and people were dying.’

Marissa gasped. Nausea overwhelmed me. Mum was right. I clutched my stomach and doubled over. I couldn’t catch my breath.

The boy didn’t notice our reactions and kept right on talking. ‘My dad paid some guys a million dollars to get me out of the city and someplace safe. He loaded the casino’s VIP
RV with a bunch of food and weapons and stuff.’

I wasn’t the only one with parents who’d do anything to give their kid a chance of survival.

‘So what are you doing here, looking like that?’ Marissa asked.

His big baby blues brimmed with tears. ‘The guys dumped me.’ The boy wiped dirt, snot and tears from his face. ‘They threw me out while the RV was still moving. I’ve been
trying to walk home. My dad trusted those guys. They’d been working for him forever. They did security at my birthday parties since I was two. How could they?’

‘People do all kinds of crazy stuff when they think it’s the end of . . .’ Marissa rumpled his hair.

I felt as if we were in some massive hourglass and time was slipping away one precious grain of sand at a time. I couldn’t afford to waste any more time. I also couldn’t be
responsible for anyone else. I could barely take care of myself. ‘Let’s flag down a car and see if we can get
you
a ride back to Vegas,’ I said.

I walked a few feet away, raised my arms over my head and waved when I saw a car materialize in the hazy distance. When the driver spotted me, he seemed to speed up.

‘Do you think Vegas is a good idea?’ Marissa asked, stepping up next to me. ‘I mean, if it’s some sort of virus thingy, wouldn’t Vegas be one of the worst places to
go?’

‘Hey! Hey, you!’ Tate called. ‘Dread! Baldy!’ Tate was shouting but somehow managing to keep a whiny tone to his voice. ‘Can one of you help me up? I need some more
water. Do either of you have any food? I’m starving.’

Marissa and I – or should I say Dread and Baldy – glared at him. We found him near death by the roadside and he thought we owed him?
Seriously?

‘Keep on doing whatever you’re doing,’ he shouted. His voice cracked with the effort. ‘Don’t worry about me. I’m fine down here with all the bugs. I could use
a clean shirt. Either of you got any painkillers? I think I may have broken something.’

Marissa strolled over to Tate. ‘Let me explain a little something to you. Dread and Baldy saved your sorry ass, and we expect a little respect. My name is Marissa and that is Icie. You are
not the boss of us. You’ll do as you’re told. Got it?’

He nodded and raised his arms like a toddler asking for a hug. He blinked those big blue eyes, which I was sure usually helped him get his way.

‘Help me get him up, Ice,’ Marissa said, slipping her hands under his arms like a forklift.

I couldn’t move. I wanted to help, but this was too much, too real.

‘OK, take a breath and then I’ll lift on your exhale,’ she told him. As Marissa lifted him, he took a deep breath and screamed like those pregnant girls did on that MTV
16
And Pregnant
show. As he got to his feet he staggered into me; I flinched at the feel of his sticky body on mine and the smell of urine that wafted off him.

‘Thanks.’ He breathed the warm and wet word into my ear.

He wrapped his arm around my neck and I reluctantly placed my arm on top of Marissa’s, which was already slung around his middle. I whipped my free arm in a wide arc to shoo the flies.

We stood frozen like one of those stone sculptures that litter the DC landscape. We could be soldiers helping a fallen comrade off the battlefield – minus the steely looks of determination
and matching uniforms. If there was some higher power – and I was having some significant doubts – then he or she was having a serious chuckle with this choose-your-own-adventure
story.

‘Marissa thinks it would be safer if we go somewhere away from Vegas,’ I told Tate.

‘Yeah, I guess.’ He shrugged.

‘We’ll help get you across the road,’ Marissa explained. ‘It doesn’t look like you’ve broken anything, so after that you’ll need to suck it up and walk
on your own. It’s too hot and we’re too tired.’

He slouched in our grip. ‘But I’m really hurt,’ he whined. He was banged up, I could see that, but it was clear to me that he was exaggerating a little for effect. He was used
to being taken care of.

‘You’ll be fine,’ Marissa said in a way that meant
end of discussion
and, surprisingly, Tate straightened a bit.

We had to time it just right. A few cars were zipping past on our side of the highway, heading to Vegas. It was hard to gauge their speed. By the time we could make out a car in the glare of the
sun, it was too late to cross. It was like watching some sports-car event. The three of us tracked the cars from the distance and followed them as they passed. It looked like about a bazillion
miles to the concrete barricade that separated the lanes of traffic.

‘We’re gonna have to make a run for it,’ Marissa said. ‘It’s clear after this car. Ready?’

As the car passed, we synchronized our jog. Marissa and I battled for the lead a bit, banging Tate between us with our ill-timed steps, but we finally got the pace right. When we reached the
median, we lifted Tate over the triangular barricade. I hauled myself up and over and helped Marissa do the same. Tate was standing on his own, shaking his arms and legs as if making sure
everything still worked.

‘Looks like you’re feeling better,’ Marissa said to Tate. Her scalp was shiny with sweat but other than that she didn’t look as if she’d exerted one calorie of
energy.

‘Oh,’ Tate groaned. ‘I’m really hurt.’ He slouched and screwed his face up in pain.

‘Cut the dramatics. We need you to toughen up,’ Marissa said, giving him a playful shove. ‘Let’s find a ride.’

Marissa and Tate studied each car. Tate wanted to pick the most expensive vehicle. Marissa thought they should find an elderly couple or someone that needed help. By looking at her you’d
never guess she was like a bald, teen Mother Teresa. Tate was trying to convince her that people with money would give them the best chance of survival. To Tate money equalled freedom and happiness
and a get-out-of-a-national-disaster-free card. I rolled my eyes, but felt the tiniest wave of sympathy for him. He was only a kid.

Don’t get attached
, I told myself. I had to mentally prepare to say goodbye to Roadkill and maybe Baldy too. I wasn’t cut out to be a hero. I wasn’t the best or the
brightest at anything. They’d be better off without me.

As Tate and Marissa discussed the strategy for selecting a getaway car, I felt a darkness descend. Was I really going to be all alone? I didn’t think I’d ever been truly alone. In DC
even when I was alone in my house, I could hear life going on outside my window. Lola was only a text away. If I screamed, I was pretty sure the neighbours would come running.

This was really it. Maybe I should just slip away. I summoned all my courage. But I couldn’t do it. I’d left too much behind already. I couldn’t stop the terrorists. I
couldn’t go back and save Lola. I
could
help Marissa and Tate.

‘Guys, there’s another option.’ I opened the map and found a few rocks to pin down the four corners. I crouched next to it and waved Marissa and Tate over. ‘This is where
I’m going.’ I pointed to the spot on the map and then the mountains in the distance. ‘You can come with me, or whatever.’

‘But there’s nothing there,’ Tate said.

I hesitated. My parents had entrusted me with a secret and not even twenty-four hours later I was blabbing it to everyone I met. But I couldn’t leave them here and I realized I
didn’t want to be alone. ‘There’s an underground—’

But before I could finish, Tate interrupted. ‘You mean that nuclear waste repository. That was never finished. I know because my dad got the casino owners to lobby against it. He made his
employees go to demonstrations and distribute flyers.’

‘That’s the point,’ I said, and shoved the map in my pocket. ‘It’s an empty bunker. You can come with me or stay here. It’s up to you.’

‘I don’t know,’ Marissa said, appearing to mentally weigh her options: hop in a car with complete strangers, or go underground with only slightly less strange strangers.

‘We could at least go and check it out,’ I continued. ‘Maybe you could get a phone signal once we’re up on the mountain,’ I said to Marissa. ‘Maybe we wait it
out a few days. I don’t know.’ I was feeling pretty vulnerable out here in the hot sun with a mass of humanity rolling by. ‘You need to make a decision.’

‘No offence, Ice, but I think I’ll hitch-hike to the next town,’ Marissa said.

‘Yeah, I’m with Baldy.’ Tate moved closer to Marissa.

‘OK, whatever,’ I said. This felt a bazillion times worse than being dumped by Tristan. I knew, when Tristan sent that text, there would be other guys. Was that only yesterday? If
Marissa and Tate left me, I was going to be all alone, maybe forever.

I picked a minivan with two kids watching movies on the screens embedded in their parents’ headrests. There was room in the very back for Tate and Marissa. I tapped on the passenger-side
window. The woman, who looked like the Wikipedia definition of ‘soccer mom’, stared straight ahead. I forgot what I must’ve looked like with my dreadlocks and mismatched set of
bald and bloody.

I tapped on the window again. ‘Can you help us?’ I shouted through the glass. She cringed so I knew she could hear me. ‘Please,’ I called to her.

She lowered the window less than an inch. A wisp of cool air exhaled across my face. Oh, how I wanted to climb into her air-conditioned heaven and let someone else take me far, far away.

‘What are you doing, Denise?’ the driver yelled, and stabbed at the window controls on his side. ‘You’re going to get us killed,’ he said as the window gap
closed.

She looked at me. Tears had drawn white and black tracks through the woman’s bronzer. She mouthed the word
sorry
.

I pressed my palm against the window. I was sorry too. Sorry that this was happening. Sorry she couldn’t help me. Sorry for everything!

She shook her head. The driver was shouting at her. She turned towards the windscreen and the minivan eased forwards a foot.

‘My turn,’ Tate said, and led Marissa and me to the most expensive car he could find. He hobbled over to a shiny red sports car occupied by a man in a black suit with his hair
slicked back. Tate knocked on the window.