Hissers (24 page)

“That could be infection setting in and you don’t want that. It could turn gangrenous and they’d have to cut it off. What? I’m serious. My mom’s a nurse, remember. Sit on the table. I’ll clean it up.”

Connor hopped on the table. She realized she’d mentioned her mother again as if she were still alive and well, still out there somewhere hiding, looking for her daughter. Such an ugly habit to try and break, speaking of your mother as anything but the loving pain in the butt she was. As she swabbed the dried blood and dirt off of Connor’s leg she felt herself starting to cry again. But this time, she stopped herself.

No more tears. Not until we’re all out of this. You’re still on the defensive and you need your wits about you.

Amanita picked up the phone near the door. “Well, big surprise. It’s dead.”

“Welcome to Castor,” Seth said.

Sunday, 1:10am

It took them another ten minutes to find the bomb shelter, which thankfully wasn’t hidden at all. A sign that looked like it was ripped from a 1950’s atomic-age creature feature—a small radioactive symbol with an arrow on it—was posted on the doors to the indoor gymnasium. They followed the arrow to another door at the far end of a hallway lined with trophy cases. This door was locked. Next to the door was a laminated certificate of occupancy so old the actual number of allowed persons had faded out.

“What now?” Amanita asked. “Without the key this plan goes to shit.”

“Shoot the lock,” Seth suggested.

Connor considered it, but was still hesitant to make unnecessary noise and/or waste bullets. He stared at Nicole, hoping she might have a solution. If their archetypal parts in this survival story were being drawn, she was clearly the brain. Not to mention the only one skilled in medicine. She’d cleaned his wound up and wrapped it up so tightly it felt like the blood wasn’t getting from his heart to his toes but it still felt a hell of a lot better than it had before. Her mother may be a nurse but where she learned to actually treat deep wounds was another mystery.

She shrugged.

“This door’s open,” Amanita said, pushing open the door marked Teacher’s Lounge just a few feet away. “Must be for the gym coaches.” She stepped inside and stepped out a second later. “There’s a microwave and fridge and coffee pot and even a TV.”

“Sounds like home,” Connor said. And led the gang inside.

Sunday, 1:21am

They dined for the second time that night. A collection of single serve potato chip bags, crackers, pretzels, and a fridge full of warm soda. “Cool gig. Teachers get free drinks,” Seth said, taking a Diet Coke and sitting on the floor beneath the sink. He preferred regular Coke but he’d been trying in his own little way to lose some weight, even though he knew it was a hopeless task. He was fat, and would always be the fat kid.

Connor would become popular and he, Seth, would drift into the shadows, soon to be forgotten. It was happening already, the way the girls looked at Connor as if he was Shia LaBeouf or something. He’d seen the kiss, what looked like a kiss, in the rain outside the school. It had made him angry, but mostly because it made him jealous.

They moved the tables and chairs against to door in case someone tried to get in. There was no window in here, so it was the only entrance to defend.

Then they all sat on the ground, the flashlight in the middle, just eating, drinking, refueling. Nicole leaned close to Connor and for a moment they shared a look. Seth felt abandoned. He knew he should be happy for his best friend, but he had never had to compete for his friend’s attention with a girl before.

He glanced at Amanita, saw the way her wet shirt clung to her body, saw the bra clear as day beneath it. Just seeing the lace outline made him excited. It wasn’t that he had never seen a bra before, but you didn’t generally see them through a girl’s shirt in person. It was weird how such a flimsy piece of material could create a mental barrier between plain old clothing and a forbidden piece of adolescent heaven.

She was thinner than Nicole, he observed not for the first time, but had a slightly bigger chest. Mostly it was her willingness to show skin that made her scary to him. She would be the girl the seniors wanted to date, and she made no bones about the fact she
wanted
to be that girl. Her snarkiness would be ignored because guys would want to fuck her. And she might just do it.

“Are you staring at my tits?” she said.

“What? No.”

“Yes, you were. Perv.”

He turned away, blushing. “I wasn’t. I just…”

“Dude, your eyes were locked on my chest. They get hot when people look at them. They swell and burn. Don’t you boys know that?”

“What? They get hot? Are you…
seriously?
”

Amanita laughed and threw a cracker at him. “No, retard. Of course not. But don’t lie, I saw you staring.”

“Sorry, I wasn’t meaning to. I just—”

“It’s okay. I’m too fucking tired and hungry and wet to care. Besides, I’m used to it.”

“Maybe you should put them away once in a while,” Nicole said jokingly.

“Whatever. Boys like them. They buy me shit because of them.” She cupped her own breasts. “Right, girls?”

“Like what?” Seth asked.

“I dunno. Like beer. Cigarettes. Stupid shit like candy. This guy my dad works with bought me a subscription to
Rolling Stone Magazine
. He said I look like Britney Spears or something and wanted me to read it and see what she was wearing, which was mostly a g-string.”

“That’s pretty creepy,” Nicole said.

“Tell me about it. That guy stares at my tits all the time. He comes by my house sometimes to see my dad. Always looks at me. Just like Seth did.”

Seth threw a cracker back at her. “I said I was sorry.”

“Are you sorry plus infinity?”

“I’m not six, you know.”

Amanita was giggling, giddy from the soda. Seth couldn’t help but notice the way her chest jiggled up and down now.
Oh God, I’m staring again!

“Swear on never watching another
Star Wars
movie that you’re sorry.”

“For the love of God. Yes, I swear I will never watch another movie—”

“
Star Wars
movie!”

“—
Star Wars
movie again if I am not utterly sincere. There, I said it.”

She held her hand out to him, pinky curled like a hook. “Now pinky swear.”

“What?”

“Pinky swear, bitch.” She was laughing so hard cracker was flying out of her mouth.

He wrapped his pinky around hers and they snapped them apart. He liked the way her hand felt in his, soft and slightly cold. He felt himself blushing the same way he had in the SUV when she’d jumped on him. He hated her attitude, hated how she was laughing like a loon right now, but she was very attractive and he couldn’t deny his own blossoming urges. He would give anything to just kiss her. He knew he was going to grow up to be fat, and that he’d never kiss a girl even half this attractive. His only consolation was that she’d grow up to be some man’s nightmare.

“So what did your dad do?” Connor asked. “About the guy who told you to dress like Britney.”

Amanita shrugged, finally stopped laughing, looked at her cracker. A moment of silence passed. “Nothing. He don’t care. Typical day at my house. These crackers suck.” She tossed them on the ground behind her.

It was awkward, yet somehow characteristic Amanita. The sudden onset of a bad mood. And for some unknown reason Seth felt like he’d started the whole thing, brought her to this place she was in now, feeling depressed and unloved. He felt like he needed to make good on it.

So he threw a chip at her.

She watched it land on her leg but made no move to brush it away.

He threw another. This one hit her in the head.

She looked up, not really smiling but maybe not so angry anymore.

Then something hit
him
in the head. And he turned just in time to see Connor throw a Dorito at his face. Seth threw a chip back. Nicole threw one at Seth. Amanita threw one at Connor. Dozens of chips suddenly cut the air.

And before they knew it their first high school food fight had erupted.

Sunday, 1:26am

They were laughing, rolling in a sea of nacho crumbs and plastic wrappers when Seth felt the first tear pool in the corner of his eye. He just couldn’t stop it. It was a need he’d been withholding all night. Without warning the floodgates opened and he was suddenly crying into his lap, his breath catching between sobs. He knew it was due to the sudden emotional upswing, like welcoming strange guests into his house. But once the door was open, everything else was free to leave as well. The secrets he kept buried in the dark places of his mind saw the daylight and ran for it.

I am having a nervous breakdown at fourteen,
he thought as his mouth hung open, collecting tears.

The food fight ended. Nicole, Connor, and Amanita were suddenly speechless.

“Seth?” It was Connor. “Are you okay?”

No, Seth was not okay. He was as far from okay as anyone could be. He was tormented, lost, alone, and at fault for the greatest crime he’d ever known. “I didn’t scream because I was scared. Really fucking scared. I couldn’t even move. It was like being covered in cement. Why didn’t I at least scream? Why didn’t I at least get out bed and run to Mom and Dad’s room?”

“What’s he talking about?” Nicole whispered to Connor.

Seth cut off any reply. “That!” He pointed to the poster on the wall near the fridge. The same one he’d seen in the hallway. He’d tried to ignore it since coming in here but it just kept staring back at him, the one with the Joana look-a-like on it. “For all I know that’s her. She looks young enough to be her.”

“Oh crap,” Connor whispered.

“Who?” Amanita asked. “What’s wrong, Seth? You’re scaring me.”

And then it just came out, torrential, like the rainstorm outside. “Joana.”

“Who?”

“Joana was my sister. Is my sister. I don’t know. She must be dead. Oh God.”

“I’m still not following,” Nicole said.

Connor filled them in on the short version. “Seth’s little sister was kidnapped. They never found her.” The way he said it, it was like he was betraying his friend.

“Oh my God,” Amanita said. She put her hand up over her mouth. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Seth snapped. “It’s not your fault. I was too fucking scared to save her.”

“You were just a kid,” Connor said.

“You know what, Connor, enough. I have to own up to this. I was a kid but I could have saved her. I was a fucking coward and I let my stupid fear overpower me. If I’d just gotten out of bed they would have had time to chase the guy. Joana might be here today, instead of…wherever she ended up.”

“How old were you?” Nicole asked.

“Six.”

“Well, shit, Seth, no six-year-old would be able to do anything. Connor’s right, you were too young.”

“A six-year-old should at least cry. At least make some noise. You should see the looks I still get from my parents. Not a day goes by all three of us don’t think of her, but only I get the accusatory looks. My parents want her back and they want me dead.”

“I’m sure they don’t blame you,” Nicole said, trying her best to sound maternal. She scooted closer to Connor and put her knees against his thigh.

“Yeah,” Connor said. He quickly looked at her knees then back at Seth. “Your parents are nice to you. I think you just dwell on it.”

“I dunno. Sometimes they deal with me. They started getting a little nicer since we moved here. I mean, Mom still checks the abducted child websites everyday, but we actually have conversations now and then.”

“They’re always buying you video games. It’s not like they don’t pay attention to your wants.”

“But is it just to get me out of their hair, or do they care about my happiness?”

“That’s why you were upset about the sword and the video game thingy,” Amanita said. “You think the gifts mean they like you now or something, but I bet they never hated you. It’s got to be hell on earth to have a child kidnapped, I’d be scatterbrained too.”

“Oh, they hated me. They missed my tenth birthday because they were at some rally for missing children. You know how that made me feel? To be alone on my birthday because of something I did to my parents? To be completely ignored for years?”

“Yeah, I kind of do.”

“Really. You know? I bet! You know, you don’t have to be a know-it-all bitch about everything.”

Amanita’s lips curled into a snarl. “
What?!
Guess what, Seth, you’re not the only one with problems. I DO know what it feels like because I’m ignored every day of my damn life. My parents pay way more attention to their kind bud and microbrews than they do to me.”