Tomorrow Land (7 page)

Peyton glanced over her shoulder and saw Chris steadily approaching, fighting like a determined salmon against the stream of students going the other way. She waved, then turned back to Avery. “He’s okay, actually,” she said. “I don’t think he’s going to do that anymore.”

Her friend rolled her genetically altered purple eyes. “Whatever you say, girl. He looks shiftier to me.”

“How’d the vaccine go?” Peyton asked, changing the subject before Chris caught up. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings. “Did you get it?”

“Hells yeah, I did. LTF, here I come. Second I got the shot, I logged in and signed up. It takes a few weeks for everything to process. You know the government. But I can’t wait! Me and Todd are planning a trip up to the mountains when it’s all official. We’re going to rent some cabin in the woods that doesn’t even have sim decks and never get out of bed.”

“Sounds stellar,” Peyton said absently, wondering what Drew thought of his twin brother’s upcoming booty call. The pressure put on her was now going to increase tenfold, she just knew it.

 “You know, you should really talk to your dad again about getting your shot,” Avery added, as if reading her friend’s mind. “I mean, Drew’s not going to wait around forever. Almost everyone in the senior class has their license.”

Peyton fought back her annoyance. “Yeah, well, if he’s not willing to wait then he’s not worth having.” But even as she said the words, Peyton knew they were kind of ridiculous. Drew was only asking for something every other kid was doing. And he could have any girl in school. What made her think she was so special that he should wait on
her
?

Sure enough, Avery snorted, verbalizing her fears. “You keep telling yourself that, sweetie. But let’s face it. It’s just as easy to fall for a girl with an LTF as a girl without one. And a lot more fun.”

Thankfully at that moment, Chris caught up, saving her from some lame reply. “Hey, Peyton,” he said, sounding a little out of breath from his trek. “How are you this morning?”

“Here you go!” Avery teased in a whisper. “I bet
Jacob
would wait decades for you. Maybe even millennia.”

“Who’s Jacob?” Chris asked, looking baffled.

Peyton punched her friend in the shoulder. “Don’t you have a class to go to or something—like our English class? Mrs. Adams’s going to have your head if you’re late again.”

“Yup,” Avery replied, laughing. “Later, ‘gator. See you on the inside.” She gave a wave and hurried off down the hall.

Peyton turned to Chris, who appeared to be studying something in his deck. “What’s up?”

“Have you seen Mrs. McCormick yet?” he asked, looking up. “I went by her house yesterday and she wasn’t home. I figured that maybe she’d be back by now.”

Peyton shook her head. “I actually went by there myself this morning,” she admitted. “No answer.”

“Well, I called Mt. Holyoke. All of the hospitals in the area, actually. None of them have even heard of her,” Chris said. He shuffled from foot to foot. “I’m worried. I mean, what do you think happened to her? You said those men were from the government, but… I don’t know.”

Peyton swallowed back the fears she herself had been fighting. She’d decided not to tell her father about the incident the other day as she didn’t want to raise his hackles. She knew how he could be about the feds. But now she wondered if she’d made a mistake.

“I don’t mean to sound harsh, but… maybe she just died,” she suggested hesitantly. After all, not everything was a conspiracy.

“Yeah.” Chris raked a hand through his longish hair. “I thought that too at first, but I don’t think it’s that simple. When I got home, I did some more digging, going on some unauthorized web forums and…”

Peyton’s pulse kicked up a notch. “And?”

“She’s not the only one who’s been taken away in a brown van with that seal. I found almost a dozen similar reports from around the country. And then there are even a few international cases, too. It doesn’t make much sense, but the descriptions all seem so similar, and…”

Peyton’s mouth went dry. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah. I think something’s going on.”

Peyton fought with herself for a moment. At last she said, “I should ask my dad. He’s up on all of this kind of thing. You know, conspiracy theories, government stuff. If anyone would know, it’d be him. I should have mentioned it the other day but… I’ll ask him after school.”

“Good idea. I’ll come with you.”

Peyton raised her eyebrow at the self-invitation, feeling a moment of suspicion. Then she shook it off. What was she thinking? That he’d made all this up in some elaborate scheme to get invited over to her house? That was just ridiculous. He was concerned about Mrs. McCormick. That was all.

 “Fine,” she relented, resigning herself to the plan. Then a new fear crossed her mind. “Um,” she said. “Though, about my dad. I warn you, he’s a little… intense.”

Chris laughed. “That’s okay. So am I.”

The bell rang and Chris darted off. Peyton hurried down the hall, too, only to find the door to her class swinging shut in her face. Great. She’d made a joke to Avery but their teacher, Mrs. Adams, didn’t tolerate any latecomers, and this was her own third tardy in three months. She considered pushing the door open and braving the teacher’s wrath, but then thought better of it. Instead she would head to the school nurse’s office, feign sick, and get a pass.

On the way, she decided to stop by the cafeteria to grab a snack. She could only swing by without penalty because, unlike the old days, everything was automated. Lunch ladies had been phased out. Insert ID, press button, remove food. Fast and easy. She wondered if the old food, prepared by real people, tasted any better.

As she entered the caf, her eyes fell upon two figures at the far side of the vending area. The pair were curled up into an intense-looking embrace. Peyton quickly looked away, not wanting to spy. Then, curious, she took another peek at the two lovebirds, wondering who would dare an illegal public display of affection on school grounds.

Her stomach dropped like it was on a rollercoaster sim, and her world spun off its axis. Could it really be? A second glance confirmed her worst fears. Drew. Her boyfriend. Tangled up in the arms of the student class president, Brenda Booker. Brenda had gotten her LTF back when she was twelve years old and was legendary in the district for her trashy exploits.

A mixture of disgust and self-righteous rage filled Peyton. Avery had been right; Drew had decided she wasn’t worth waiting for. All that stuff he’d said about love and loyalty—it was all bull. He was just like every other horny guy in her high school, looking for one thing and one thing alone.

She tried to take a step back, to flee the scene, but her legs felt like they were stuck in mud to the knees. She tripped over a chair and crashed to the ground.

Swift, Peyton. Real swift.

They hadn’t noticed her before, but they did now. Drew and Brenda looked over, startled. Peyton scrambled to her feet, her face burning. She would never say it to her dad, but now would be a great time for the end of the world to commence.

“I… I thought you had English class this period,” Drew stammered.

Anger won over her embarrassment. “Is that all you can say?” she demanded. “I catch you making out with the school slag in the middle of the cafeteria, and all you can say is that I should be in class? Since when did you become hall monitor?”

Drew didn’t even have the good grace to look sheepish. He whispered something to Brenda, who nodded, giggled, gave Peyton a dirty look, and took off. Peyton glared at her retreating back, wishing she could shoot daggers out of her eyes. Then she turned to her cheating boyfriend.

“How could you?” she cried, feeling tears well up in her eyes. “I thought… I thought you loved me.” God, it sounded so lame and stupid when she said it out loud.

“I
do
love you,” Drew said, walking over to her. He took her hand in his. She yanked it away. “I love you more than anything.”

“I see,” Peyton said through clenched teeth. “You have a weird way of showing it.” She squeezed her hands into fists and forced herself to stay calm. “You love me, but, let me guess—you want to be with someone who has their CC.”

“We’ve talked about this,” Drew said in an exasperated tone. “A million times, in fact. You’re one of the last hold-outs in your entire class. I’m even willing to do it illegally for you, Peyton. That’s how much I love you. But if you won’t even agree to that, well, what are we supposed to do?”

So there it was. Avery was right. It all came down to sex. “I’m not going to break the law,” she protested weakly.

“No, you won’t, will you?” Drew’s voice took on a harder edge. “‘Cause you’re too afraid of your crazy daddy and what he might do if you dared to live a little. You’re trapped in a cage, Peyton,” he told her. “Living half a life. All because some Armageddon nut—who should be locked up—keeps telling you that the end of the world is near.” He shook his head. “Well, let me tell you something: when the end of the world does come, I’m going to have lived my life. How about you? You still going to be waiting around with Daddy?”

Peyton snapped. Her fist found Drew’s nose, connecting with an oh-so-satisfying sound of crushing bone, followed by a scream of pain. Her boyfriend’s perfect proboscis—the one that his parents had paid, well, through the nose for—was now a shapeless, bloody mess.

“Don’t talk about my father like that,” she said, lowering her bloodied hand. Then she turned and stormed toward the exit, leaving Drew bawling like a baby and shouting for the nurse.

As she left the cafeteria, she fought the urge to spit.

Chapter Eight

Chase and Peyton wove through an asphalt field of abandoned cars and shopping carts—many still packed with plastic bags of decomposing goods—on their way to the Walmart front entrance. The car windows were mostly broken, and shattered glass on the pavement caught the failing sunlight, sparkling like a field of scattered diamonds. Peyton fingered her own diamond—the one she’d been carrying around in her pocket since she left the shelter—and wondered if she should show it to Chase. Would he even remember giving it to her? It seemed a lifetime ago.

She withdrew her hand from her pocket and took a look around, shivering at the sight of the barren landscape. Everything was so still, so dead. What had it been like for these people whose rag-clad skeletons now stretched out before her, littering the parking lot? One moment they were blissful, happy-go-lucky Walmart shoppers, ready to enjoy an hour or so of discount commerce; the next they were collapsing where they stood, their lungs seizing up, their hearts failing—and those were the lucky ones. What went through their minds as they fell to the hard, cold pavement? Had they pled for some kind of last-minute divine intervention? At what moment had they resigned themselves to the fact that none would come?

As she stared at a car that looked vaguely familiar—was that the Smart Nissan of one of her teachers?—a lump formed in her throat that she struggled to swallow down. She was supposed to be tough now, after all. Her father had trained her for this: to be strong, to not let overwhelming emotion wash her away. So there were some dead people here. So it went. After all, she was a razor girl. Like Molly Millions. And Molly Millions didn’t cry.

She faltered, stumbled. Unable to go on. Her dad would be ashamed.

Suddenly a strong hand found her shoulder, spinning her around. Chase cupped her chin with his other hand, tilting her face upward toward his. His fingers were warm—rough and calloused, but still tender as they firmly directed her eyes to meet his own. In an instant, she found herself lost in a kaleidoscope of color. She drew in breath; how many nights, down in the shelter, had she dreamed of those strange eyes of his? Those vivid greens and yellows and blues, all swirled together. And now, if anything, they seemed even more brilliant in the fading light of day.

 “Are you okay?” he asked, actually sounding concerned for the first time since they’d met that day. She realized she was trembling. How embarrassing. The last thing she wanted was for him to see her as weak.

“I’m fine,” she retorted, shaking her head to free it from his hand. But he only gripped her chin tighter, tracing a finger along her jawline. That touch sparked an ache deep inside—one she found she couldn’t will away. Like everything else in this world.

“Sure you are,” he said, giving her an amused smirk. “That’s why you’re white as a sheet.”

She slumped her shoulders and sighed. “Okay, fine. It’s… a lot to take in. I admit it.”

He dropped his hand and she felt a weird emptiness inside at the loss of his touch. He leaned up against an ancient rusted-out Pryus and stared off into the distance. For a moment, she wondered if he was going to speak.

“When we first got back, after being in the mountains for so long, we couldn’t believe it,” he said at last. “Up there, removed from it all, it was hard to imagine how bad things had become. I threw up three times when I saw the first bodies.” He grimaced. “Real manly, huh?”

“I did, too,” she cried eagerly before she could stop herself. Before she could play it cool. Tough. But it felt so good to admit it. To know she wasn’t alone. “Outside my house. I saw… a baby.” She shuddered.

“You get used to it after a while,” he said, still staring off into the distance. He rubbed his chin with his forefinger and thumb. “I know that probably sounds crazy now, but it’s true.”

She peered around the parking lot. At the death. Decay. Dismemberment. “I can’t imagine.”

“Of course you won’t be expecting it,” he continued. “But one day you’ll be out and about—hunting food or whatever—and someone will say something. Do something. And it’ll strike you as funny.” He shook his head. “You’ll be standing there, smack dab in the middle of a mass graveyard, surrounded by cannibalistic zombies, cackling like a loon.” He smiled and for a second she thought she saw the old Chris coming out from behind the mask. “It’s at that moment you realize that life goes on. It really does.”

He turned back to her and their gazes locked. Try as she might, she found she couldn’t look away, as if trapped by his eyes. She exhaled, her heart pounding in her chest. Half of her wanted to grab him, right then and there, throw herself into his arms and melt into him, soaking up his strength. Relinquish her control, her strength, her armor, and just be a girl again. A girl who loved a boy.