Razor Girl (16 page)

“Hi, honey, how was school?”

Molly’s mom’s smile seemed strained as she set colorful plates down on the dinner table in preparation for supper. Dad was down in the basement again, not surprisingly. He’d been down there almost constantly for the last week, ever since Molly told him about the monster in the Dumpster. When she’d questioned him later, when he came back from checking it out, he claimed to have seen nothing. Nothing but dead bodies, stacked high. He said perhaps the shock of that nightmare itself was enough to make Molly’s mind go a little crazy. To cause her to see something that wasn’t actually there.

But Molly knew what she’d seen and it was no hallucination. And the fact that her dad wouldn’t meet her eyes made her suspicious that he knew more than he’d tell. But try as she might, she couldn’t get him to say anything more on the subject. Eventually she dropped it. But still, she found herself every day looking in the shadows, searching. Just in case. It wasn’t something she could just forget about.

“Good, I guess, considering half the teachers are out with the Super Flu,” Molly sneered, plopping down in a chair. “They combined all our classes in the school auditorium with the one healthy guy left teaching. The sim-gym teacher! It’s ridiculous. I don’t know why they’re bothering. They should just shut down.”

“Well, you still need an education,” Ashley Anderson said, carefully placing each fork, spoon and knife in its place.

“What good is an education if we’re all going to keel over and die?”

Her mother dropped a spoon, and it clattered to the floor. She squatted to collect it and walked to the sink. After tossing the utensil in, she reached for her pills. Molly sighed. She’d noticed her mother’s hands were shaking and wondered how many happy pills she’d already swallowed that afternoon. It had been a disconcerting development the first time she’d seen her mother take the medication, but gradually it had seemed more normal. A lot of people were running scared these days and overmedicating.

The Super Flu hadn’t stayed a hidden epidemic for long; it was too deadly and spread too quickly for any government intervention to help. By the end of the week it had been all over the news. People were urged to stay home and lock their doors. Close their windows. They’d been assured this would help keep the disease from spreading.

What people had done instead was either: a) pretend nothing strange was happening, b) dose like crazy on psych meds, or c) take the opportunity to stick it to the Man. News of looting was becoming more and more common. Shopkeepers—those who were still actually going to work—had taken to keeping loaded guns behind their counters. Last week three people had been shot.

Oh, and then there was the d) option: preparing for the worst. Some were stockpiling food and water and medicine in a desperate attempt to keep their families safe. Food prices had gone through the roof, as no one was driving the delivery trucks. Many stores that had once boasted overflowing shelves were now closing after running out of stock.

Molly didn’t know which option was smartest, but she knew going to school and packing into a gym to be taught by the sim-sports coach was something of a joke. Of course, she supposed the government had to keep the children busy somehow. While adults were dying in droves, very
few people under the age of eighteen had been reported as sick.

“I need you to go to the store, Molly,” her mother said, rummaging through the kitchen cabinets. “Debbie told me they might be trucking in some fresh produce today.”

Molly groaned. After a long day at school, the last thing she wanted was to stand in line for three hours, waiting for a delivery that probably would fail to show. But what else could she do? Fresh fruits and vegetables were the one thing you couldn’t stockpile. Her mother had taken to canning them and drying them whenever she could, and her father had brought home several batches for just that purpose. Molly didn’t want to ask where he’d gotten them. She was also jonesing for a nice ripe tomato.

“Okay,” she agreed, grabbing her bag. “I’ll be back in ten hours.”

She headed outside. The neighborhood was quiet. No kids were playing outside. No cars were leaving driveways. But she could feel eyes on her from behind drawn curtains. The people here were home. Waiting. Watching. Too scared to leave.

Molly decided to swing by Erin’s house on the way to the market. Maybe she could convince her friend to come with her. Having someone along would cut down on the boredom of waiting in line at the very least. And Erin’s family likely needed some produce as well.

She walked up to her friend’s front door and rang the bell. No answer. Frowning, she rang a second time.

“It’s me!” she called loudly, just in case they were worried about thieves. “Molly Anderson.”

The video-monitoring system clicked on, and unseen eyes stared down at her. A moment later she heard a click and the door swung open. Erin’s mother stepped out, closing the door behind her.

“You shouldn’t have come here, Molly,” she said.

Molly cocked her head in confusion. “What? Why? I just wanted to see if Erin wanted to go get some produce with me. Supposedly there’s going to be a big delivery today.”

Erin’s mom shook her head. “Erin’s sick,” she said, her voice shaking. “We…we think she’s infected.”

Molly stared. “But…I thought kids weren’t getting it,” she said, confused. “I thought it was just an adult thing.” Chills ran down her spine. It was now affecting kids, too? This was terrifying. Not that she hadn’t been scared before, but…

Erin’s mother shrugged wearily. “I don’t know. But she’s been running a high fever since she got home from school and…well, she’s coughing. It’s coming up blood. They…they say that’s the first sign.” The woman was clearly near a breakdown.

“Oh, God.” Molly shook her head and blinked away the tears that were flooding her eyes. “Can I see her?”

The woman shook her head. “No, sweetie,” she said. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. You don’t want to get sick, too.”

In a daze, Molly nodded. She knew the woman was right, even if avoiding the Super Flu at this point seemed next to impossible, no matter what her father claimed about her being immune.

“Well, tell her I said…hi,” she murmured, not sure how else to end things. “And…and that I hope she feels better soon.”

She could see the tears welling up in Erin’s mother’s eyes, and the woman nodded, and Molly suddenly realized that Erin wasn’t
going
to feel better soon. She wasn’t going to feel better ever. She was going to die. Like the rest of the world was going to die.

“Take care, dear,” Erin’s mother said. “And be careful.”

Molly trudged down the front stairs of the house, tears streaming down her cheeks. Before this, she hadn’t really known any of the victims. There was Mrs. McCormick, who’d begun it all, and her teachers had called in sick, but after that everyone who’d fallen ill was a stranger. All her friends at school were still fine. Her parents were fine—apart from her mother’s sudden attraction to opiates. But now, to be best friends with someone who had the disease…Suddenly everything was a lot more real.

Erin. Fun, sunshiney Erin. Champion virtual cheerleader. All-around great person. Sick. Probably dying. Just like everyone else.

Her dad was right. The end of the world was coming. And not with a bang but a whimper.

The annoying chirps of hungry baby birds waiting for that early-morning worm drew Molly out of a deep sleep the next morning. She pulled her sleeping bag over her head and sat up, stretched and lamented the sore muscles she suffered from sleeping on the ground. Tonight they’d have to find a location that was safe from Others but also had beds.

The children had risen with the baby birds, and they were presently running around the rest area in what appeared to be a wild game of tag. Their laughter and high-pitched squeals pierced the air—not exactly the best way for their group to keep a low profile, and Molly hoped there were no hungry Others nearby. She noticed, with amusement, that Starr and Torn were huddled next to one another, whispering. Young love. So sweet. It gave her a tiny bit of hope for the future.

She glanced over at Chase, wondering if he felt the same. Instead, she realized he felt nothing. He was asleep.

Yes, her fearless all-night watchman was curled up in a fetal position and snoring like a trooper. How long had he lasted before succumbing to sleep? And why hadn’t he woken her up? Annoyance gnawed at her gut. She should have never let him insist on taking the whole night. It was too dangerous for these kinds of screw-ups. What if one of the Others had wandered through their camp last night looking for a midnight snack?

Worried, she did a quick head count, just to make sure it
hadn’t happened. Eight kids. Phew. They’d caught a lucky break. No thanks to Mr. Watchman.

She shook Chase awake. “What are you doing?” she demanded. “Why the hell didn’t you wake me up when you got tired?”

He looked at her groggily, eyes still sleepy and unfocused. If she wasn’t so angry, she would have thought he looked cute.

“Sorry,” he muttered, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “I don’t know. I was fine and then…”

“Look, Chase. This isn’t your protected Wal-Mart anymore. We’re out in the wild. Anything could happen. We have to stand watch at all times.” She was practically shouting at him, though she was also trying to keep her voice low so the kids wouldn’t hear.

He scowled, looking uncomfortable. “I know, I know,” he grunted. “I get it. You can stop nagging. So I fucking fell asleep. It won’t happen again.”

“Damn right it won’t. I’ll be taking the night watch from now on. After all, I—”

“You’re not human. Right, I get it. You and your robotic implants. You’re beyond screw-ups and better than me. I get it. I gotta go take a leak.” He scrambled to his feet and stalked off toward a copse of trees to the northwest.

Molly watched him go, feeling shrewish. She shouldn’t have been so harsh. After all, nothing had happened. They were all safe. It wasn’t that big a deal. And he had been trying his best. They both had been working very hard, traveling, baby-sitting. It wasn’t like either one of them was born to this sort of…

Her eyes fell on a prescription bottle lying next to where he’d fallen asleep. She picked it up, turned it over and read the label.

Oh, no
.

Molly knew the prescription well. It was the same as one of her mother’s. This had been a bottle of the little happy pills that had succeeded in sucking away Ashley Anderson’s personality,
her consciousness, and finally, her life. She’d zoned out and become completely useless, as if she were a ghost. For six years she’d haunted their shelter until she finally floated away, her body atrophied and her mind all but destroyed.

And now it seemed Molly had somehow attached herself to a guy with the same addiction. The person who was supposed to help her get to Disney, the one she was forced to depend on, was nothing more than a pill-popping junkie just like her mother. Thank goodness she hadn’t allowed herself to fall for him. To start a relationship. That would have been a disaster.

In any case, this stupidity had to stop. Now. And how was she going to be able to trust him?

Chase walked back over and grabbed his sleeping bag, rolling it up. “I fed the horses,” he said, his voice overly cheery, probably trying to get her to forgive him. “We’re good to go when you’re ready.”

She held up the prescription bottle. His face turned bright red, proving his guilt.

“What?” he asked.

“Pills, Chase? Is this why you fell asleep?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Oh, he was going to play innocent? “I found them by your bed,” she said, trying to keep her voice flat and emotionless. “It’s the same bottle you had when I was stitching up your face.”

He dropped his sleeping bag. “Fine. They’re mine. What of it?”

“Chase.” She drew in a breath. She had to get this all in the open. “Do you have a drug problem?”

“No!” he retorted, looking horrified. “How can you ask me that?”

She held up the pills. “Um…”

“Okay, I get why you’d ask,” he relented. “But no, I don’t have a drug problem. Look, my face was killing like a mother last night. You know,’ cause of the stitches. I thought maybe a painkiller would help, all right?”

“Oh.” The world crashed down on Molly and she cringed. Here she was, thinking he was some sort of junkie, but instead he was just medicating because of the wound she herself had given him. She’d judged before giving him the respect of an explanation. He probably thought she was a total bitch. Maybe she was. Even if she’d come from the right place, trying to keep everyone safe.

“Well,” Chase snapped, “if you’re done accusing me of shit, I’m going to round up the kids. After all, we don’t want to disrupt your precious schedule.”

“Look, Chase, I’m sorry I—”

“Whatever.” He stormed off.

She felt horrible. Why had she jumped to those conclusions? After all, Chase wasn’t her mother. And besides the sleeping thing, he’d totally lived up to his responsibilities so far. He had rallied the children, gotten them a good distance in a not-terrible amount of time. It was a difficult situation for all of them, and they were doing the best they could. She shouldn’t be so judgmental—especially without knowing all the facts.

Still…Her eyes fell on the pill bottle lying discarded in the grass. Picking it up, she scanned the campsite for a trash-can. The next time Chase was in pain, she decided, he should try aspirin.

Self-righteous bitch. Chase stole a glance back at Molly and her horse as their group clomped down the center of I-95. She thought she was so perfect and fit to judge anyone who didn’t live up to her ridiculously high standards. So he’d fallen asleep. No big deal. They were all okay, right?

But, no. The way she looked at him, you’d think he’d been caught abusing puppies. The disappointment in her eyes. The judgment in her voice. Those things said it all. It had to be tough going through life so goddamn perfect. She never showed weakness. Like a freaking cyborg or some shit, intent on her mission, not letting anything get in her way. Maybe joining her on the journey had been a mistake. He’d thought she’d be different once they got to know each other; she would
let her guard down. And she had done just that, briefly, when they’d kissed. But then she’d shut down again afterward. She’d gone off into her own little world, only piping up when someone dared try to slow her pace.

If this were that old reality sim, VR Island, she’d so win, hands down. Though, if it were up to him, she’d be voted off the server first.

She never used to be like this. He remembered the old Molly. Sweet, beautiful, scared. The apocalypse had changed everyone, he guessed. Forced them to put up walls and trust no one. Was the old Molly still there, deep inside? The one he’d fallen in love with so many years ago?

He realized that either way he’d better make peace. The two of them were stuck together for the time being, and he didn’t think either of them could take care of the kids by themselves. So he slowed his horse and drew even with hers so that they were walking side by side.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey.”

“Look, Molly, I owe you an apology. I snapped at you and you didn’t deserve it.”

She looked at him with cool eyes. “No problem,” she said.

“It’s just…well, I feel kind of stupid about the whole thing,” he confessed. “I knew I should have woken you up when I started to feel sleepy. But you looked so peaceful, I…well, I didn’t want to disturb you, is all. I figured I’m the
guy
, right? I should be the one to take care of you.”

“So you can buy me dinner, hold the door open,” Molly snapped. “You can drape your cloak in mud puddles I have to cross. I think Armageddon actually made the rules of chivalry obsolete,” she added after a moment.

Chase sighed. Hers was a tough nut to crack, that was for sure. “Maybe you’re right,” he said. “In any case, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she replied again, and turned her gaze back to the road.

He raked a hand through his hair, frustrated, and decided to try another tack. “So, tell me more about Disney World,
and what your father and his scientist friends have planned. I hope they’re all down there and waiting.”

She was silent a moment and he thought at first she was angry at his questions. Then she opened her mouth. “Like I told you before, they want to make Disney World the center of what ever society is rebuilt,” she said. “They’ll accept refugees into the many hotels there to keep them safe from the Others. They’ll create a makeshift government and new laws—good ones this time, not like the past administration who did everything they could to restrict people’s rights. This will be a truly democratic society, with everyone having a voice. They’ll assign people to various jobs—cooks, who can use the many restaurant facilities on site to feed the people, teachers to educate the children, even an army with stockpiled weapons to keep everyone safe. After all, not everyone may be gung-ho about my dad’s friends running things. There might be other groups who spring up and want to take over.”

“Ah,” Chase said. “Makes sense. Are you planning on joining the army? I mean, you’re certainly the most amazing fighter I’ve seen.”

She shook her head, clearly annoyed by his flattery. “No,” she said. “Once I get to Disney World I want all these implants out. I can’t stand them.”

“Really? But they work so well! They make you so strong.”

She sighed. “Sometimes I get sick of being strong.”

And there it was. A shred of emotion. A thread of vulnerability spoken aloud. Chase grasped it like a precious gem. “I bet,” he said sympathetically. “It must be hard to always be in control.”

She turned to him. “You think I’m a total bitch, don’t you?”

Her question surprised him, but he managed to keep his composure. “No,” he said, reaching a hand over to stroke her forearm. Her horse whinnied in protest, but he ignored it. “I think you’re suppressing your doubts and fears because you feel it’s necessary to survive. Unlike me, who seems to always wear his damn heart on his sleeve.”

She offered him a shy smile. “I like that about you, actually,”
she said. “When Tank, well, you know…you grieved for him. Loudly.”

He nodded. “Yeah. Well, he was not only my brother, he was my best friend. I loved him.”

“My mother died right before I met up with you guys,” she said. “After years of sickness.” She shook her head. “I still haven’t been able to cry for her.”

“How come?”

“Molly Millions doesn’t cry. She spits.”

“What?”

She shook her head. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter.”

“Well, last I looked, you’re Molly Anderson, not this Molly Millions chick. And no one here is going to think less of you if you cry. We all have cried at one time or another. Some of us more than others. And I’m pretty sure by the time this is all said and done, we will all cry again.”

She nodded absently, looking lost in thought. For a moment he thought the conversation was over; then she turned to him again. “I’m sorry about your brother,” she said. “I barely got to know him, but he seemed like a good guy.”

“Thanks,” Chase said. “He was. He was the best.” He paused then added, “And I’m sorry about your mother.”

“Thanks.” She started to say more, but her voice suddenly cracked. Chase looked over in surprise and saw a tear slip down her cheek. It had oozed out from behind her implants, and he wondered if it was painful or bad for the circuitry. But instead of asking, he simply reached out and took her hand in his, stroking her palm with a finger. She didn’t pull away.

They rode a long while holding hands. Chase watched silently as each tear slipped down her cheek. There were five. But the ice princess was unquestionably melting.