Prism (13 page)

Michelle put her finger to her lips.

“Sorry,” he whispered.

“Though I dread it, I’ll need to wake him up so you can get on with what you need.”

“Tell you what, Meesh, I’ll do the honors.”

“Fair enough. He’s upstairs.” Michelle hugged Ozzy again. “You take care of yourself, darling. Don’t make yourself so scarce. Drop in when you
don’t
need something, okay?”

“Got it.” He took my hand and led me to a staircase. It was dizzying and kept winding and winding and winding, as if it were saying:
Now you will throw up!
When we finally reached the top, I felt my head spin.

“You okay?”

“I dunno. I’m slightly dizzy.”

“The place is a little ripe. Sorry about that.” He knocked on a door with chips of green paint falling off.

We heard groaning coming from the other side of the door. “What the hell?”

“Open up, James.”

“Leave me alone.”

Ozzy pounded harder on the door. “Come on, man. I know you were out all night, but we’ve got a nine-one-one here.”

Something rumbled in the room, and the door opened.

“Ozzy Callahan in the flesh.”

The man who spoke was garbed in cargo pants and an oversize T-shirt. He had light brown hair that was short and spiked, and bloodshot blue eyes.

“Alive and warm-blooded.” Ozzy gave James that sort of guy-hug where you slam your body against the other person and slap his back.

James rubbed his eyes and nodded toward me. “Who’s this lovely lass with the purple hair?”

“As if you didn’t know.”

James leaned against the door frame. “Are you
the
Kaida that I’ve been hearing
a lot
about?”

I was rendered speechless with not a witticism to spare.

Ozzy laughed. “You’re embarrassing her.”

“What about you?” I asked Ozzy.

“I’m beyond embarrassment.”

James laughed. “Well, as long as you’re here you might as well come in.”

The space was tiny, with a lumpy mattress covered with messy sheets atop a metal frame. By the edge of the cot was a scarred table, and on it were two items: a plain white lamp and a white paper bag with the ends rolled up tight.

James picked up the bag. “Sorry, man, but this’ll cost you.” He quoted an exorbitant price. “I’m not getting rich on this, but I gotta get some gas money.”

Ozzy’s complexion turned sickly green. “James, I don’t have that much money. You know that.”

“Sorry, but it’s getting harder and harder.”

“I have money.” The two boys looked at me as I pulled out a stack of bills. “I raided my piggy bank.”

The two of them kept staring at me.

“What? You don’t believe it’s real?”

“Where’d you get all that cash?” Ozzy asked me.

“Birthdays, Christmas, special occasions. When you shop secondhand and your big splurge is hair dye, you save up.” I gave James the required amount. “I went to the ATM after school yesterday. This is costing me about half of what I own, so the stuff better work.”

“I promise you if it doesn’t, I’ll make good,” James assured me.

I nodded. “Okay.”

James licked his lips. “Ozzy’s been telling me a lot about you.”

“You already said that.” I was surprised by the toughness in my voice. My eyes bounced between Ozzy’s eyes and James’s face. “He’s been telling me a lot about you.”

“I hope it’s all good.”

I nodded.

James said, “You remind me of a girl I once knew. Tough,
smart, beautiful…very caring and very daring and very…different like you.”

Erin White? Or someone like her probably. “What happened to her?”

“I hope she’s in a better…universe.” He gave a small smile. “Maybe you’ll go there sometime.”

“That would be nice.” I crooked a thumb in Ozzy’s direction. “Maybe I’ll take him with me.”

“Just as long as he comes back.”

“That’s a promise.” Ozzy gave him another hug. “So I might not see you for a long time.”

James smiled sadly. “Well, then…” He pulled something from under his mattress. It was a tiny bottle of a clear liquid. “Here.”

Ozzy laughed. “That’s not enough to get me drunk.”

“It’s not supposed to. It’s for your mother…a good-bye gesture.”

“How much?”

“On the house.”

“Thanks, man. I’m running low. Thanks a lot.”

James dropped the bottle into the bag and stared at me hard. “Take care of him. He isn’t as smart as he thinks he is.”

He tossed me the paper bag.

“There are two things in there. One for the pain and one to help with the condition.”

I peered inside. There was a bottle of red tablets that looked a lot like Advil. There was also a box with chewable
squares inside. They looked like chocolate if you didn’t know any better. But I had had some embarrassing intestinal problems in my former life.

“Where’d you get these?” I asked.

“Someone brought them from another place,” James said.

Another place…meaning my old world?

Assuming that people could be transported, I supposed things could be transported as well. If I could bring Coyote Cream with me from my world, maybe someone else could have brought Advil. I would have liked to question him further, but I knew we were short on time.

I said, “These look like something that might help the pain,” I told him. “But these…” I held up the box. “I’m not a professional, but I don’t think this is going to help. I think these are laxatives.”

“And?” James said.

“Do you know what laxatives do?”

“The guy who sold them to me said he got it from another place and it would help her arm.”

There were unscrupulous dealers in my world; why wouldn’t there be unscrupulous dealers in this one as well? “In my world, laxatives help you go to the bathroom.”

James stared at me. “Are you sure?”

“I’m not positive of anything, but if I had to bet, I’d bet I’m right.” I shoved them back in James’s hands. “Go get your money back.”

“I can’t!”

“You said you’d make good. I just spent three hundred dollars.”

“I’ll give you your money, but I can’t go back on the streets…not just yet.”

Ozzy interrupted. “We’re doing the best we can, Kaida.”

I was furious, but I kept my temper in check. “James, you have to go back and ask for antibiotics—that’s what we call them—because if these are laxatives, they won’t help my friend at all.”

James said, “Kaida, the authorities are always looking to get me. I have to be careful.”

Ozzy said, “James has already put himself on the line—”

“I realize that, but if he can’t buy it, we’ll have to get what she needs.” I glared at James. “And I need money to do that.”

“Here’s the money,” James said.

I felt bad about coming down on him. “I’m sorry. I know you did the best you could. But this…it won’t help.” I paused. “Here. Take twenty for your help.”

James refused the bill. “I feel terrible and I’d go again, but there’s no sense in getting arrested.”

“You’re right. You stay put.” I turned to Ozzy. “If we have to relive the accident, it would help to get Joy better first. Her arm’s in bad shape. Joy needs something more. If you’re getting spills from my world—or copying medicine from where I came from—I can tell what’s what. So you need to show me where I can buy the stuff so I can make sure I get the right thing.”

“It’s too dangerous,” James said.

“I don’t care,” I told him. “I’m not asking you to go, just to tell me where to go.”

“I won’t let you do it,” Ozzy said.

“What do you mean you won’t
let
me!” I protested. “I fell into this mess with her. I’m going to fall out of this mess with her. This isn’t your business!”

“Too late for that, Hutchenson. I made it my business. We’re now in this together.”

James was staring at the two of us. “It’s my fault. I’ll take care of it. Just give me some time.”

“I’m sorry, James, but we don’t have time.” The trip was a day away. I had to help Joy—set her on the right road—before we all attempted to go back to our world. “I’m not leaving until I find her medicine. Tell me where to find it.”

Ozzy gave me a hard look. “You can’t go alone. You don’t realize what you’re up against.”

“I’m up against my brother, my friends, my parents, the authorities. I’m up against the entire world right now.”

“Welcome to our lives,” James said.

“Either show me how to get medicine
or
come with me to get medicine.” Tears finally sprouted in my eyes. “I’m not saying your help wouldn’t be appreciated, but one way or the other, I’m going to get what Joy needs.”

James let out a long whistle. “Spitfire.”

Dragon-girl was my parents’ nickname for me, and the words echoed in my head. I was playing the part of some
heroine out of a Manga comic strip. So how come I didn’t feel invincible?

Ozzy closed his eyes, then opened them. He whispered. “James can’t go out there again. It’s like asking him to be eliminated.”

“I’m not
asking
him to do it, Ozzy, I’m just asking him to tell me where to go.”

“I know you’re willing to brave it alone…but just like we don’t know your world, you don’t know ours.” He tapped his foot. “I’ll come with you, Kaida. I’ll make sure you get the right spills. I’ll do it.”

“I’m not asking you to do it.”

“I know that. I
want
to come with you.” He took my hand. “I’m going to come whether you want me to or not. I’ll show you the ropes.”

“That”—I smiled through my tears—“would be lovely.”

We left Rix Plac without saying another word to anyone. When I got into the truck, I said, “We need to pick up Zeke and Joy.”

Ozzy turned on the ignition, again unleashing the wild animals under the hood. “If all goes smoothly, why bother them?”

“And if it doesn’t go smoothly, half of us will be in one place and half of us will be somewhere else.”

The engine idled. He didn’t say anything.

“That would make things difficult,” I told him.

“Call them,” Ozzy finally conceded. “Tell them to get over here as soon as possible.”

“They don’t drive,” I reminded him. “We have to pick them up.”

“Okay, work it out with them. I’m just the chauffeur.” Ozzy clapped the dashboard and made a U-turn.

After I made the arrangements, I said, “Zeke’s walking over to Joy’s house. Her mother is a lot less intrusive than his parents or my parents.”

“Fine. This ‘no one gets left behind’ is a nice idea in theory, but it doesn’t always work out.”

“It’s not even a matter of no one gets left behind. They came in
with
me, Ozzy. They have opinions, too. It’s not use ’em and lose ’em when the body mass gets a little heavy.”

He raised his eyebrows and accelerated the truck.

“You’re one of the good guys,” I reminded him. “We need your help. All of us.”

He shook his head. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m hurting my mom as much as I’m helping her. She’s not getting any worse, but she isn’t improving. Maybe I’m getting the wrong spills.”

“You know, even where I come from, sometimes people get sick and die and there isn’t anything anyone can do about it. Sometimes people get sick and if they’re on the right medicine…the proper spill…they won’t get better but they won’t get worse. And sometimes people do get better. Nothing is perfect, Ozzy. The difference is back home, we try to do something.” I hesitated and then touched his hand. “Here and back home.”

He barely smiled, but I think he felt better. We rode in
silence until we arrived in front of Joy’s house. They were waiting by the curb, and when they saw us, they hopped in the back part of the cab, which was a little squished for Zeke’s long legs.

Joy was clutching her arm.

I immediately gave her what I thought was Advil. When she looked at me, I said, “Don’t ask.”

She thanked me, and gulped down two tablets. She said, “Where are we going?”

“What we’re doing is really dangerous, but it’s the only way we can get you the spills you need.” Ozzy made a sharp turn. “The area is pretty run down. Don’t freak, okay?”

“After what we’ve been through, freaking isn’t in our vocabulary,” Zeke said.

“You all should go on without me,” Joy whispered. “I’m holding everyone back.”

“Stop it,” I told her. “One for all and all for one.”

“Me, too,” Zeke said.

Ozzy said, “I’m in.”

“There were only three musketeers,” Zeke said.

“There was d’Artagnan,” I said.

Ozzy smiled.

But it didn’t last long. His expression turned serious and tense as we entered a no-man’s zone. He slowed the truck down to a crawl. Night was falling and it was getting darker by the moment. The place reeked of illness and rot.

“Christ!” Joy jumped as a hand slapped the window of the truck. I turned back and saw a skeletal man gaping at me in desperation.

“Don’t look out,” Ozzy told us.

So of course, we all looked out. The streets that we drove down were filled with broken buildings and tenement slums with bodies darting in and out of the shadows. The few human souls that we could make out barely looked like people—their bodies ripping at the seams. I wished that Ozzy would pick up the speed, and just get it over with, but I suppose when you’re doing stuff on the sly, you have to be methodical. He certainly seemed to know what he was looking for.

“Who are these people?” Zeke finally asked.

“They’re sick. Ordinarily, they would be picked up and eliminated. They’re running from the cleanup crew…maybe hoping to score some spills to keep them alive a little longer.”

“So why don’t the cleanup crews just come in and arrest everyone?” I asked him.

“They make raids—the crews certainly have plants and spies here. That’s what I’m nervous about.” Ozzy licked his lips. “But there are many more sick people than the crews can eliminate. The crews have to pick and choose, and hopefully they won’t choose today to make a raid.”

“My God!” The stench was getting to me, and I nearly gagged. “This is nauseating.”

“Yeah, it smells pretty bad. Most of the people here are going to die. They just spend the rest of their lives here, wandering around and hoping for a miracle.” He glanced sideways at me.

I felt like I was going to cry.

“Whatever happened to death with dignity?” Joy said softly.

“It’s better if you don’t look,” he told us.

“I can’t help it.” Zeke’s voice was choked. “It’s like those World War Two films…with all those Jews hiding from the Nazis.”

Ozzy honked as a woman with a swollen face shuffled in front of us, pressing her face against the windshield. He rolled down the window. “Get away or I’ll call the crew!”

She shuffled off.

“That was cold,” Zeke told him.

“You want to get us arrested, Anderson?” Ozzy blew out air. “It’s all sad. It’s all pathetic. Like I said, you’ve got to pick and choose.” He inched up, making an abrupt stop behind a girl with no arms. He honked the horn and the girl got out of his way.

A man came up to my window and pressed his palm against the glass. There was a hole in his hand. I bowed my head and when I looked up a minute later, a spot of blood had marked the window.

Ozzy swung the truck around and parked. “This isn’t doing us any good. We need to walk and seek. You guys okay with that?”

“Sure, definitely.” I looked out the window and thought,
No, I’m not okay with walking. I’m not even remotely okay with that. How could anyone be okay with that?

“Great.” He turned to Joy and Zeke. “You guys want to wait or do you want to come with us?”

Joy was crying and Zeke pulled her into his arms, but he didn’t look too well either. “We’re okay.” Zeke let out a nervous laugh that sounded like my flute when it’s out of tune. “Honest.”

“Then let’s do it. Ozzy got out of the truck and slammed the door behind him. Someone tapped on my window and I let out a tiny yelp. It was just Ozzy opening the door for me. I exhaled and stepped onto the curb. Zeke followed, with Joy hidden in the folds of his coat. Ozzy put a protective arm around me and we began what seemed like a descent into hell.

If I’d blown on the buildings, they could’ve fallen down. It stank like one big diseased gutter and looked like your worst nightmare, with rag-doll people limping across the street, flitting about. And the noises they made—agonizing, strained squeals like half-dead animals, barely clinging to a wisp of life.

I rubbed my eyes. What else could I do?

“Can I hook you up, baby?” a skinny woman crooned. She came out of nowhere and shook a few paper bags in front of us. “Is your mama dying? Your friend? You look a little dying yourself, honey!”

“Ignore them,” Ozzy stated in a monotone. “They’re selling crap.”

We walked a bit more, and then Ozzy stopped and gripped my shoulders. “I need to leave you here for a minute.”

“What?”
Zeke said.

“I don’t want you going in with me…just in case it’s a setup.”

“It’s okay,” I broke in. “We can handle it.” Once I acted valiant, Zeke had no choice but to posture as well. “Yeah, we’ll be okay.” I reassured Ozzy with a smile. I looked five paces away at my newfound friends, all of us scarred for life.

“You’re sure?”

Not at all. Please don’t leave me. Take us back.
“Absolutely.”

“We’re fine,” Zeke chimed in.

“I’m not,” Joy said. “Just hurry up.”

“I will.” And then Ozzy disappeared into the inky black.

A voice croaked out, “You’re too pretty to die!”

I must have jumped ten feet. A chubby kid who looked no older than twelve gave me a toothless smile. “I’ve got something for you if you want it.”

“Get lost!” Zeke said with a commanding voice.

The kid disappeared.

“You didn’t have to shout,” Joy said.

“I’m only doing what Ozzy would have done.”

Two teenage boys were laughing at us, their bulbous eyes mocking our fear. One of them had a soul patch; the other was clean shaven but had a wart on his nose.

Wart chucked my chin and coughed. “Look at this youngness. They look ready to go?”

“Beat it!” Zeke told them. But the boys were older and they ignored him.

Soul Patch said, “Look at their hair, those eyes!”

“Bright eyes.”

“You may be dying, but we can help.”

“Get the hell away from them, you amateur twits!” a deep voice shouted.

I whipped around and saw it wasn’t Ozzy, but some bean-pole redhead with freckles and a black T-shirt. Whoever he was, he shooed the teens away.

“You Kaida?” the redhead asked.

“Who wants to know?” I said.

The redhead chuckled, but it wasn’t a happy sound. “I got your pain-erase. Look down.”

I did. At my feet was a plastic bottle. When I looked back up, the guy was gone. I blinked, and a few tears escaped my eyes. Tears of relief, maybe. I picked up the bottle and sorted through the pills.

“What are those?” Joy asked.

“Hopefully antibiotics.” I shook my head. “The last time they sold James—that’s Ozzy’s friend—what looked to me like laxatives. They told him it would help your arm.”

“Laxatives?” Zeke said.

“Obviously, it’s an imperfect system. There’s as many cheats in spill dealing as there are in drug dealing.” From
the distance, I saw Ozzy waving at us.

“Hey.” Ozzy’s voice was tense. “We got it. Let’s blow.”

And then we all heard it: the awful wailings of sirens getting louder and louder. Flashing red lights burned through the black sky. There must have been a dozen cars.

“Damn!” Ozzy grabbed me and waved to Zeke and Joy. We all began racing back to the truck, but we were too late. Within seconds the streets were filled with a crowd of men in official uniforms.

“This way.” Ozzy pulled me behind a building, with Zeke and Joy in tow.

A megaphone blasted out, “Hands up, hands up, hands up!”

I whispered, “Who are they talking to?”

“Whoever they caught,” Ozzy said. “Shhhh…”

“Individual evaluations here!” the megaphone continued. “If you’ve got nothing to hide, we have nothing against you.”

Another megaphone. “Cooperate, people! It’s your only hope.”

“Government police,” Ozzy said in my ear. “We’ll be fine if we just—”

“Stay hidden?” someone said in my other ear.

I could feel his wet lips against my face and I jumped up reflexively. From behind, a man grabbed my arms and smashed my hands together behind my back. Within seconds, I was handcuffed. “And the rest of you!” he snarled at us. “Don’t even think about moving!”

Wasting no time, Ozzy lunged at the man and grabbed his head, smashing it against the building. “RUN!”

I tried to run, but without my arms free I couldn’t move quickly enough. I turned around and saw that Joy was still crouched, weeping on the ground.

“Joy!” I screamed, “Get out! Zeke! Get her out! Get her out!”

But a beefy cop had already secured Zeke in a headlock. Within seconds, someone grabbed me from behind and yanked me backward. I almost tripped, but I managed to keep upright. My flight to freedom had come to a quick end.

“You’re all under arrest!” a voice shouted.

Something blunt and heavy landed on my head.

Then the whole scene disappeared.