Razor Girl (19 page)

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Authors: Marianne Mancusi

BOOK: Razor Girl
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“I thought you wanted to know about your friend,” the girl said sulkily as Molly stood above her.

“I do. And yet you see fit to try to lure me into a dark room and try to kill me.”

“Only after you attacked me.”

“Then why the knife?”

“Uh,” the girl rubbed her head. “ ’Cause I don’t know you
from Adam and I needed protection? It’s dangerous out here nowadays, in case you hadn’t realized. And I’m risking my life even talking to you.”

Oh. Right
. Molly hadn’t thought of that. She swallowed her embarrassment and offered the girl a hand up. The blonde took it, brushed off her filthy pants and muttered, “Thanks.” Then, walking over to the wall, she pulled out a book of matches and used one to light a candle.

“So, why did you bring me here?” Molly asked.

“It’s one of the few safe places in town,” the girl explained. “One of the few empty places. Pretty much everyone here is pissed at God for the whole plague thing, so they avoid it like…well, you know.” She gestured around. “It’s become my home away from home. When I need to…escape for a bit.”

Molly again studied the girl closely, noting the black-and-blue marks on her arms. They’d just fought, sure, but some of those bruises didn’t look fresh. She wondered what exactly this girl needed to escape from. In the current world, there were a million possibilities.

“I’m Molly,” she said, deciding to make the first overture toward friendship.

“Helga.” The girl put out a bony hand and they shook. It seemed weird to re create old-world formalities, but kind of nice at the same time. “You’re with that Chase guy, right?”

Molly felt a surge of hope. So, the girl had been telling the truth. “You’ve met Chase?” she asked. “You know where he is?”

Helga nodded slowly, in a way that made Molly think wherever Chase was, it wasn’t exactly good. “There’s a new group running this town,” she started to explain. “They rose up after most everyone died in the plague. There’s a council and a sort of police department to enforce the new laws. It’s good in some ways. They make sure everyone in town has enough to eat and a place to sleep. They hold regular patrols to keep the Knights of the Living Dead at bay.” She paused then added, “You know. The
zombies
. I think your boyfriend called them the Others.”

Molly started to correct her on the boyfriend part but decided it wasn’t worth it. “Right,” she said, wondering what any of this had to do with Chase. Was he okay or wasn’t he?

“Anyway, another thing they do is hold pit fights. Kind of like they did in the old days with slaves.”

“You mean, like gladiators?” Molly asked, thinking back to her dad’s beloved movie collection.

“Yeah, that’s the word,” Helga agreed. “Anyway, they hold them in the old boxing arena at the edge of town. Basically they put one human and one Knight of the Living Dead in the ring and they fight.” She paused then added, “To the death, of course.”

Molly was beginning to get the picture, and it wasn’t pretty. “So, let me guess. You have plenty of Others—
Knights
—but not a lot of human volunteers.”

Helga nodded. “Right. So, the government gives bonus food and protection to those who can bring in new fighters. My boyfriend works as one of these ‘recruiters.’ He’s a real bastard, but he’s great at his job. He talks people passing through into coming home with him and then drugs their drinks. Then he turns them in to the council.”

Something about this didn’t make much sense to Molly. “But why would Chase go home with him?” she asked. “He knew we were waiting.”

“Well, Luke always promises something. He’s a master at figuring out what people need, and let’s face it, people are needy these days.”

“And so Chase was looking for food for…?”

Helga rolled her eyes. “No. Drugs, of course. They’re one of Luke’s specialties.”

Molly’s insides tightened, and for a moment she thought she was going to throw up. She’d come here, risking everything, wasting precious time, all because of Chase’s drug addiction? Just fucking great. She was an idiot to have given him another chance. He had a problem, just like her mother, and that problem wasn’t going to go away. Even if he wanted to change, and she wanted to think he did, he’d likely have to
fully detox first, and even then there were no guarantees. In the meantime, if she did that for him, got him out of whatever situation he was in here and put him through the process to clear him up, while she waited for him to get better, her own body would start breaking down. He’d get better—maybe—but she’d die before ever reaching Disney World.

It was her mother all over again. Except, Molly’s mother had given birth to her. She didn’t owe Chase a fucking thing.

She considered just up and leaving, abandoning him to the trap he’d walked himself into. She’d take the children and go, get them down to Disney, accomplish her mission. She didn’t need Chase. She didn’t need his bullshit. He’d let their entire group down and he deserved to pay. He deserved to get his ass chomped by a zombie in some dumbass bizarre post-apocalyptic pit fight. But when she tried to take that first step toward the exit, her feet wouldn’t cooperate. Nor would her mind. Instead of anger, she simply saw a vision of Chase. Beautiful Chase, who had promised long ago to protect her from all the horror at the end of the world. Even when his own world was torn apart by the horrific death of his sister, he’d still put her needs over his own. And then she’d abandoned him.

Well, things were different now. Things could be different. He needed saving, and she was the only one left to do it.

“Can you take me to him?” she asked the blonde.

Helga considered it. “On one condition,” she said.

“Which is?”

“You take me with you.”

“Take you with me? To rescue Chase?”

“I mean afterwards. You two must be going somewhere, right? You have a destination in mind,” Helga said, looking desperate.

“Yes, but…” What would Molly say—that there was no room in the inn, that she didn’t need any more baggage than she already had?

The girl held out her arms, and Molly saw again all the bruises. “I can’t stay here any more,” she said. “It’s already bad, and if Luke finds out I helped you, he’ll kill me.”

Molly’s heart went out to the girl. It was a horrible world they lived in, and the good people had to help each other out. “Okay,” she agreed. “You help me get Chase back and you can come with us.”

The girl breathed a sigh of relief, grinned, and Molly noticed she was missing half a front tooth. “Thank you so much!” she said. “You won’t be sorry!” She grabbed her knife off the floor and pushed aside the red curtain. “Where are we going anyway?” she asked. “Afterward, I mean.”

“Disney World,” Molly said, though she felt a bit silly saying it.

Helga stopped and turned, surprise written across her freckled face. “Really?” she asked.

Molly nodded.

“Wow. That’s so cool!” Helga turned and skipped down the church aisle. “I’m going to Disney World!” she cried. She paused for a moment and said, “I hope it’s not like Baltic Disney.”

When Molly got to her locker the next morning, she saw someone had crammed a note into the vents. She yanked it free and smoothed it out, studying the words with a skeptical eye. A group of kids were evidently planning a party. And not just any party—an outdoor, end-of-the-world rave. At first she was annoyed to think that people would make light of what was going on. After all, people were
dying
. It seemed so disrespectful.

She thought about crumpling the paper up and tossing it in the recycle bin. But then she had a second thought. People were scared. Stressed. Panicked. Maybe this was an opportunity to relieve some of that. Celebrate what life they had left. And maybe she’d get some more info on what the hell was going on with the world—seeing as they had all been forbidden to talk about the Super Flu at school.

Not to mention, she’d get to hang out with Chris.

Ever since last week, when they’d first kissed on his basement couch, the two of them had been practically inseparable. They’d been eating lunch together, meeting at their lockers for between-class smooches and hanging out after school. But it wasn’t all about young love. They’d been developing a plan, an escape for friends in case things got really bad. They’d recruited Chris’s brother Trey and some other kids from school, stealing and stockpiling supplies and non-perishable food in a storage facility just outside of town. Packing suitcases full of
clothes and toiletries. The idea was simple: be ready to go at a moment’s notice. Head up to the mountains and hide there until things got better.

Because, as Trey kept saying, things could only get worse. The more people who were sick and dying, the less food and necessities would be distributed. And a decrease in necessary goods would mean an increase of violence. Pretty soon the town would be under martial law, he said, and it would be unsafe to walk the streets. Much better that they avoid such a powder keg. Wait ’til it all blows over, he said. Up in the mountains they could grow their own food and hunt deer and trap rabbits. They’d live like kings, Trey said. It had sounded a lot like her father’s plan, although she’d be with friends. She liked that idea.

And so they’d planned. And they’d been remarkably efficient at realizing their plans. And Molly ignored the niggling at the back of her head that reminded her she might have to choose between people she loved.

The bell rang. Molly tucked the flyer into her pocket and headed to class. This wasn’t yet a done deal. The government could still find a cure. The world could still recover, and this end-of-the-world rave would just be another lame high-school theme party. She prayed that was the case. What else was there to do?

   

“This must be the place!” Molly said, pointing to the colored lights bursting from the woods. She grabbed Chris’s hand. “Come on!”

“Are you sure you want to go to this?” he asked for the hundredth time.

“Yes,” she said firmly. “It’s a good thing, and I want to support it. There’s been far too much anger and sadness lately. This’ll be a night off. Who can’t use a night off?” She turned and stared into his eyes, his molten kaleidoscopic green eyes.

He squeezed her hand. “Okay, then. Let’s go party.”

They headed into the clearing. The place was packed with kids from their high school all dancing around a large bonfire.
There was a tent set up in one corner, and a DJ was spinning a hard techno beat on a portable synthesizer. “Nurses” walked around with test tubes filled with “Super Flu Cures”—which, upon closer examination, contained high-octane alcohol. Molly hadn’t ever had alcohol, but it seemed like this was as good a time as any to start. She grabbed two tubes for herself and two for Chris, and she downed hers quickly, feeling her mouth burn and her insides warm. Chris didn’t seem to want his drinks, and he laid them on a nearby table. She pulled him onto the makeshift dance floor. He was glancing around, looking a little overwhelmed. She wondered how many parties he’d been to.

Molly let out a whoop, mindless. A weight had lifted off her shoulders, because this place seemed so far from reality and all the horror in the world. Tonight, this was exactly what she needed. Time to enjoy the fact that she was alive, time to not worry about what was to come. Dancing, sweating, laughing with friends, making out with Chris. It didn’t seem right that a fifteen-year-old had to deal with plague, death, Armageddon—and what could she do, anyway? Here she didn’t have to think. It was heaven.

“Come on, Chris! Dance!” she begged, grabbing him by the hands. He laughed and twirled her around.

“I suck at it!” he yelled over the music.

“I don’t care!”

A few more songs, a few more tubes of “cure,” and Molly was suddenly feeling really, really good. She looked over at Chris. His face was flushed. “Come on,” she cried. “Let’s sit for a moment.”

She pulled him away from the bonfire to a spot where some makeshift tables had been set up, covered with brightly colored tablecloths. On impulse, she got down on her knees and crawled under the table, pulling Chris behind her.

“It’s like a secret fort,” she informed him proudly. “No one can find us here.”

He laughed. “Cool,” he said; then he kissed her.

She sighed against his mouth. This was the perfect night. Good music, great boyfriend, time away from—

Above the music, someone screamed. Chris and Molly broke their kiss, stared at one another. Molly cocked her head to one side. “Should we…?” she asked.

Chris shook his head. “Probably just some drunk girl saw a snake or something. No need to panic.” He leaned forward to kiss her again.

He was stopped by another scream. Then another. And another.

Molly stared at Chris, terrified. She made a move to leave, but he grabbed her shoulder. “No,” he whispered. “Stay here.”

He peeked out from beneath the tablecloth. The music had ceased but the screams continued. Molly waited, her heart beating wildly in her chest. What the hell was wrong?

“Are the cops here?” she asked, almost hopefully. “Are they breaking up the party?” She crossed her fingers for something normal, even if she’d be in serious trouble with her dad, who thought she was studying up in her room.

Chris drew his head back under the table. Even in the darkness Molly could tell he was white as a sheet.

“What—?”

He clamped his hand over her mouth and shook his head. Wide-eyed, she stopped talking. The screams, however, continued. They were louder, and there was the sound of people rushing around.

And then she heard something else. Something familiar. And then she remembered the trash compactor behind the hospital.

She stared at Chris, desperate questions in her eyes. He nodded grimly. The sounds she heard were groans and grunts similar to the monster at the hospital, the monster her father had told her didn’t exist. What the hell was going on here?

She could barely breathe, she was so scared. Her whole body was trembling. Chris grabbed her and held tight, squeezing her so hard it hurt. Still, she pressed closer, wishing she could literally crawl inside of him and hide from the horror beyond their thin tablecloth shield.

The screams continued for what seemed hours but was probably only a few minutes. The dancing teenagers had scattered. At last there was silence. Deadly, horrible silence. Molly looked at Chris questioningly. He let go of her and peeked out from under the table. After a moment he leaned back inside and nodded.

“Coast is clear,” he whispered. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

Gingerly, they crawled out from under the table. Molly assessed the scene before them. Carnage. Utter carnage. Tables were turned. Tents shredded. It looked like a scene from a monster movie. It
was
a scene from a monster movie.

Her eyes then fell upon the bodies, bloodied and broken and strewn around the clearing. There were a number of dead: her classmates—some she’d known since kindergarten—torn and bitten almost beyond recognition.

Molly’s stomach heaved and she bent over and lost her lunch. Chris grabbed her, holding on tight. It was a good thing he did; she felt like she was going to pass out then and there. Which would be bad, she supposed, seeing as they were still at ground zero of the attack.

“Come on,” Chris whispered, pulling at her arm. “We have to get out of here.”

She didn’t need a second invitation.

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