The Brothers (21 page)

“Shut up,” Tommy grumbles. “Let me concentrate.”

“You can concentrate without driving two miles an hour.” Gabe jiggles the headrest.

Without taking his gaze off the road, Tommy swats at Gabe. “Leave me alone or you drive.”

“Gladly,” Gabe says. He blows a frustrated breath out. “I’m going to sleep. Wake me when we’re ambushed.”

Gabe disappears into the dark back of the van. I look at Tommy.

“You know, you probably could let him drive. He’s not a baby.”

Tommy flicks a look my way. “You know that truck I own?”

“No,” I say.

“You wouldn’t. The last time Gabe drove, he fell asleep and ran it into an embankment. Flipped the bastard over.”

“Oh,” I say, gripping my knees.

“You think I baby him, but that’s because he’s a baby.” Tommy’s voice is low. He glances up into the rearview mirror.

“He’ll hear you,” I say.

Tommy shakes his head. “I can already hear him snoring.” He drives down the center lane, avoiding a giant pothole in the right side of the road. Electrical poles lean out like tall trees. A shopping cart lies on its side, one wheel spinning in the breeze.

Tommy turns to me. “When we get to the hospital, you should stay in the truck.”

I frown. “Have you ever been in a hospital before?”

He shakes his head.

“Then how will you find where the meds are stored?”

Tommy shrugs. “Shouldn’t be that hard.”

“Do you know what pills you’re looking for?” I ask. “I mean, do you know which medicines are worth something and which are basically useless?”

Tommy chews his lip. “Gabe’s pills are white.”

“Most pills are white,” I say.

“Look, we’ll be lucky enough to get in and out with all our working parts,” Tommy says, flexing his arms. “The road gang that controlled the building was brutal. Some of their booby traps are probably still armed.”

“So, we’ll be smart
and
careful.”

Tommy grinds his teeth. “I don’t need to watch two people in there. Keeping Gabe alive is hard enough. I don’t need to worry about you, too.”

I snap my head toward him. “I’ve kept myself alive this long just fine, but thanks for patronizing me.”

Tommy grips the steering wheel with white knuckles. When he doesn’t apologize, I crawl out of my seat. “I’m going in the back. Wake me when you want to be civilized.”

I climb over the center armrest and into the empty back. It gets very dark back here without the moonlight from the windshield. As the van rocks, I crawl forward, feeling with my hands until I land on something soft.

“Couldn’t take his self-righteousness anymore?” a voice in the dark whispers.

“Gabe.” I lean into the side of the van, afraid to go any further for fear of touching him somewhere that’ll make us both very embarrassed.

“Tommy means well.” Gabe shifts in the dark. His warmth moves closer.

“I know he feels like he has to protect everyone, but he doesn’t have to be such a jerk while doing it.”

Gabe chuckles. “I think that’s the part he enjoys.”

His shoulder brushes mine as he sits beside me. We rock with the movement of the road, swaying in time with the gentle rumble of the pavement.

Fingers brush my cheek, and I freeze. Gabe’s voice sounds much closer when he speaks. “Thank you for saving him today,” he whispers. “I know you did it for me, and I’m eternally grateful.”

His voice purrs quietly. Gentle puffs of his breath trace down my bare cheek. My heart is a hummingbird trapped in my chest. The heat of his body and his fingertips on my cheek make it impossible to say much of anything.

Gentle fingertips trace a circle on my cheek. “You have such a big heart, Janine. ‘A mind at peace with all below, a heart whose love is innocent.’”

“That’s beautiful,” I say. “Shakespeare?”

“Lord Byron,” he responds. “It suits you.” His hand cups my chin.

When his lips find mine in the darkness, I can’t believe it. I can’t believe the soft, subtle brush of his mouth skimming mine. His breath tickles my mouth. The hand that was on my cheek runs through my hair. His lips press in, flesh on flesh. He smells like peppermint. Kissing him feels like flying, like a live wire is pressing itself to my skin and electrifying my bones, my hair, my heart with pulses of heat and yearning.

I lean forward, but his lips slip away. The hand that was in my hair drops off, too. It wasn’t enough, just a whisper of a kiss. I want more, but the more I lean, the farther I feel him slipping.

“That was nice,” he says quietly. “I’m going to get some rest now.”

I sit completely still and listen as he stretches out on the van floor.

What just happened? Did I kiss him wrong? Did my breath smell? I pull my knees to my chest and hug them. If Gabe liked the kiss, he wouldn’t have stopped there, right? Is he respecting my space? I don’t want space. At least, not this much space.

After sitting awkwardly in the dark for a while, I crawl back over the armrest and into the passenger seat.

Tommy gives me a quiet nod. If he heard anything that we said or did, he doesn’t mention it. He points to the ominous buildings growing in the distance.

“Get ready,” he says. “We’re here.”

The hospital rises off the road like the beacon it was meant to be. The two-story structure with large glass windows looks like a boxer who’s gone too many rounds. Jagged glass teeth hang from window casings. Shredded white curtains lilt in the breeze. An ambulance on its back like an overturned turtle blocks one of the main entrances. As we cruise by, a feeling of unease settles over me. Most of the first-floor doors and windows are boarded up or barricaded with metal sheeting. Bullet holes pock the brick next to the “Presbyterian Española Hospital” sign. A mound of trash near the entrance looks like a body.

I shift nervously in my seat. “We should’ve come in the daylight.”

A pressure on my headrest makes me turn. Gabe is leaning forward for the view. “At least it looks like nobody’s home.”

Tommy sniffs. “Just their explosives are.”

Gabe’s gaze follows an abandoned car husk as we drive past. “The traps might just be rumors.”

Tommy says nothing. His body is a rigid wire.

After we circle the hospital once, Tommy points to a loading dock. “We’ll go in through the back. Seems like they’d focus their energy on the front if they were setting up explosives.”

“Or is that just what they want you to think?” Gabe raises an eyebrow.

“It’s as good a plan as any.” I catch myself biting my fingernails and force my hands in my lap. Somehow my fingers start signing letters. Just random words for a while, but it calms me until I realize I’ve signed D-E-A-D. I lace my fingers together to force my hands to be still.

Tommy parks in a garbage-strewn parking lot. He clambers into the back seat and begins filling a backpack. In the light of a gas lantern, the boys grab bolt cutters, a wrench, a crowbar, a sheathed knife, water jugs, jerky, two headlamps and finally their ancient-looking handgun.

Tommy puts the handgun in his waistband.

Gabe points at the gun in Tommy’s pants. “I thought you valued the family jewels? If I die, who will repopulate the earth with our family’s good looks?”

Tommy rolls his eyes and slides the gun around to his back.

The three of us climb out of the van. The air smells stale. Trash skitters on the pavement. The whole area seems devoid of sound—no animals, no people, and no humming insects. I shiver and wrap my hands around my arms.

Tommy looks at me. “Last chance to wait in the van.”

“I’m not staying.” I drop my arms and set my chin. “You want me to hold that gun?”

“Can you fire it?” Tommy asks with a teasing smirk.

“I’m sure I could if I needed to.” I don’t tell him I have no idea how to fire a gun, but he can see it in my face.

Gabe straps the knife in its sheath to his belt and examines the crowbar. “I feel pretty badass with this.” He lifts the metal rod up and lets it fall into his palm with a
thwump
.

Tommy watches him. “Just don’t knock yourself out with that thing.”

Gabe rolls his eyes.

Tommy faces us. “If something bad happens… If there are people inside or an explosion goes off, just run. Don’t be heroes. It’s better that some of us get out than none.”

I shake my head. “That’s not how this works. We’re a team. We go in together. We get out together.”

Gabe nods. “I’m not leaving your sorry butt in there just so you can rag on me about it later. I’d never live that down.”

Tommy shoulders his pack and leads us toward the dark hospital.

We creep toward the back doors. They’re wide open, revealing the cavernous inside, dark and terrifying. It’s too easy. It must mean they want people to come in just to be blown to bits. My vision darts between a spray-painted dumpster and an overgrown tree. So many places for people to hide.

The wind stirs and the doors moan on their hinges. A noise from the parking lot makes me whip my head around. The shadows seem alive. Most of me wishes I’d stayed in the van.

When we reach the doors, Tommy holds up a fist. Pulling the gun out of his waistband, he locks his arms out and aims into the darkness.

Then he steps inside.

Heart pounding, I wait at the doorway. Should we follow him in? It’s pitch black and, even though both Tommy and Gabe have headlamps, neither have clicked them on. It’d be a dead giveaway that we’re here, but I can’t imagine fumbling around in the dark.

Gabe grabs my hand. I flinch and glance at him, but he isn’t looking at me. He’s watching Tommy, our fearless leader, tread farther and farther into the darkness.

We wait.

I don’t want to think about Gabe’s hand on mine or the electric feel of skin on skin. But as the long the silence creeps on, it’s my only anchor to a world where my life makes sense. A world that isn’t a nightmare. I squeeze his palm just a little. He looks down at me.

“It’ll be fine.” He stares into the darkness, waiting for his brother to return.

A shape appears in the hallway. Gabe and I both tense, but Tommy’s strong, compact form appears in the moonlight.

“No sign of life,” he whispers. When he turns and clicks on his headlamp, Gabe does the same.

Gabe lets go of my hand. I feel like I’m going to float away.

Gabe enters the dark hallway, but Tommy waits for me. “Stick close,” he says. “I don’t want you getting into trouble.”

There he goes again, ruining things. But this time, I don’t protest. Frankly, I’m a coward and don’t want to be left behind.

We creep through the door, our boots crunching on trash and debris. Somehow, Tommy manages to dodge the noisiest trash. I sound like a bear crashing through brush. He glances at me, and I try hard to be quiet. Gabe’s headlamp dances in front of us and Tommy’s bobs beside me, cutting narrow slices of light through the dark room. The hospital walls are puckered and peeling. The floor is covered with dry paper, plaster ceiling, and animal droppings. Plastic chairs—covered in dust—line one side of a hallway. The space opens up as we tiptoe ahead. A reception desk with the hospital’s emblem on the front is ringed with bullet holes. On the wall, someone has spray-painted “The End is NEAR” in red paint.

I hope it’s paint.

The air is heavy with dust, and I stifle the urge to cough. Even though the place feels dead, that doesn’t mean that someone isn’t lurking. I creep close to Tommy. He’s holding his gun out in front of him like I’ve seen police do on TV. His eyes are quick, and when Gabe bounds around a corner, he snaps the gun that way.

“We stick together!” he whisper-shouts after Gabe.

But Gabe has gone ahead, like he always does.

“Goddamn it,” he whispers. He turns to me. “Stay here.”

Before I can protest, he runs after Gabe.

Leaving me alone.

In the dark.

Unarmed.

I stand perfectly still. My heart thumps harder and harder as the seconds tick by. Every scary story I’ve ever been told begins to play in my head. Soon, I start imagining monsters creeping toward me in the darkness. I swear I hear a noise. I swivel toward it.

“Tommy?” I want to run, but I could be sprinting into danger.

“Gabe?” I call quietly. “Tommy?”

Footsteps thunder my way. Someone’s coming.

I stumble back, but where can I go? My knee hits something, and it thuds on the ground. They’ll hear me. I find the wall and crouch low. Why didn’t they give me a knife, something,
anything
?

Twin lights cut through the dark. Headlamps.

“Gabe! Tommy!” I stand up.

But they don’t stop running. Tommy waves his arm, urging me forward.

“Run!” he says.

There’s no time to think. I turn and run back the way we came. I hear the boys at my heels, sprinting for their lives. In my mind, a million scenarios are spinning: raiders, bombs, giant man-eating rats.

A hand on my arm. “In here!” Tommy’s voice directs. He pulls me through a dark doorway. Gabe skitters in after.

We pull up against the wall, panting and sucking down dust. Gabe starts coughing.

“Is it safe?” he asks.

“What’s going on?” I whisper. My heart won’t stop pounding.

Tommy shakes his head, the headlamp darting around the room. “I thought Gabe tripped a wire.”

“But he didn’t?” I look toward Gabe.

“Guess not,” Gabe says through panting breaths. “Damn thing must not’ve been armed.”

I look between Gabe and Tommy. “So the bombs are duds?

Tommy wipes sweat from his brow. “Let’s not assume anything, okay?”

With the adrenaline leaking out of me, I feel suddenly tired. “Let’s just hurry up. This place makes my skin crawl.”

“Hurrying can be deadly,” Tommy says, adjusting his headlamp. The light from it dances over a slew of cobwebs in the corner.

“Okay, so we go fast
and
careful. And we stick together,” I say.

Both boys drop their eyes when they realize they left me alone in the dark.

“If someone wanted to hide the drugs here, where would they put them?” I ask.

“Where’s the easiest place to defend?” Gabe asks.

“Top floor,” Tommy says. “Your enemies would have to go through all your traps and you’d have an advantage on stairwells.”