Lies (Gone #3)(88)

In a louder voice Astrid cried, “You’ll all get a chance to vote, but for now, temporarily, these rules will be the law as soon as a majority on the council says so.”

“I vote yes,” Albert said quickly.

“Me, too,” Edilio called out from somewhere in the crowd.

Howard rolled his eyes. He looked at Orc, who nodded his head yes. Howard sighed theatrically. “Yeah, whatever.”

“Okay, then,” Astrid said. “With my vote that’s four out of seven. So. These are the laws of Perdido Beach. The laws of the FAYZ.”

“Can we eat now?” Howard asked.

“One last thing,” Astrid said. “I lied to people. And I got other people to lie. That’s not against any of these rules, but it’s still wrong. The result is that kids won’t really trust me in the future. So I’m quitting the town council. Effective right now.”

Howard began an ironic slow clapping. Astrid laughed. It didn’t even bother her. In fact, she felt like joining in herself. Like she could finally stand outside herself, see herself as shrill and controlling and faintly ridiculous.

Strangely, it made her feel better.

“Now, let’s eat,” Astrid said. She hopped down from the fountain and actually felt lighter when she landed. Like she’d weighed five hundred pounds a minute ago and was now as light and nimble as a gymnast. She patted Howard on the shoulder and went to Albert, who was shaking his head slowly.

“Nice,” Albert said. “You get to quit.”

“Yep. So now I guess I need a job, Albert,” Astrid said. “You have any openings?”





THIRTY-SEVEN


33 MINUTES




“I DIDN’T WET my bed or anything,” Justin said. “At my house I mean.”

Mary ignored him. Instead she watched Astrid’s performance. It made her bitter. Of course Astrid had found a way out of the hole she’d dug for herself. Smart, beautiful Astrid. It must be great to be Astrid. It must be great to have so much confidence that you could just stand up there handing out a set of rules and then blithely walk away, with your pretty blond head held high.

“Can I go see Roger after we eat?”

“Whatever,” Mary said. She’d be out of it all soon. Done with this awful place and these awful people. She’d sit outside with her mother and tell her stories about it.

Astrid was lining up now for barbecue. Astrid and Little Pete together. Kids were clapping her on the back. Grinning at her. Liking her more than they had in the past. Why? Because she had admitted she had screwed up and then she’d quit and left them with a new set of rules to follow.

In her own way Astrid had taken the poof, Mary thought.

How many minutes left until Mary had her own chance at escape? She pulled Francis’s watch from her pocket. Half an hour.

After all the worry and anticipation it still seemed to rush up at her, the time.

John was looking at her now, even as he herded the kids toward the front of the food line. Looking at her. Expecting something from her. Just like everyone else.

Mary should go stand in the food line herself, of course, show Astrid up as a liar for calling her anorexic.

But really, what did Mary have to prove to anyone?

She ignored John’s wave, ignored kids around her, and headed back into the day care.

It was quiet and empty.

This place had been her whole life since the FAYZ. Her whole life. This messy, stinking, gloomy hole. She stared at it. Hated it. Hated herself for letting this define her.

She didn’t hear anyone behind her. But she felt it.

The back of her neck tingled.

Mary turned. There. Behind the milky translucent plastic that covered the jagged hole between the day care and the hardware. A shape. A form.

Mary’s mouth was dry. Her heart pounded.

“Where are they, Mary?” Drake asked. “Where are the snot-nosed little monsters?”

“No,” Mary whispered.

Drake looked at the edges of the cinderblock with detached interest. “This was clever, the way Sam did this. Burned right through the wall. I didn’t see it coming.”

“You’re dead,” Mary said.

Drake snapped his whip hand. The plastic was sliced from top to bottom.

He stepped through. Into the room where he and the coyotes had threatened to kill the children.

Drake. No one else. No one else had those eyes. No one else had that python arm the color of dried blood.

He was dirty, that was the only difference. His face was smeared with mud. Mud was in his hair. Mud was on his clothes.

The whip writhed and curled like it had a life of its own.

“Get out of here,” Mary whispered.

What happened if she died here in the FAYZ? No. She had to get away. And she had to save the children.

Had to. No other choice. She’d been a fool even to think of any other choice.

“I think I’ll wait for the kiddies to come back,” Drake said. He grinned his wolf’s grin and Mary could see mud in his teeth. “I think it’s time to finish what I started.”

Mary wet herself then. She could feel it. But she could not stop it.

“Go,” Drake said. “Go get them. Bring them here.”

Mary shook her head slowly, her muscles watery and weak.