The Cage(78)
“I am tired of raw carrots,” Mali said flatly. She started up the diner steps. Nok had a hand pressed over her stomach, practically drooling at the smells coming from the diner, but she kept biting her lip and looking at Rolf in indecision.
“Fine,” Rolf said. “We’ll eat the food. Cora, I’m in charge now, and I say that you aren’t allowed in. You can try surviving off the farm for a while and see how you like it.” He started moving toward the door.
“Wait—I can prove it!” she cried, standing between them and the diner. “I saw a comic book from Earth in the market. Its date was two years in the future. That proves that Earth couldn’t have ended when we were taken. They must be lying.” Cora’s heart thudded to the heavy beats of music. They had to see that this was all just a trick. Just the thought of Earth being gone shrunk her soul. That it was ashes now, Sadie and her family, the gap-toothed girl from Bay Pines, and the NPR reporter on the radio with his smooth voice, and her entire town, and state, and country.
No. It couldn’t be gone.
Nok brushed the pink strand of hair from her face to reveal a pitying look. “You look really tired. After lunch, let’s go to the beauty parlor. I’ll paint your nails. We’ll get some chocolates, yeah?”
Cora stared at the dot of yellow paint on Nok’s nose. Was she going crazy—or were they? Rolf scooped up the paintbrush, wrapped an arm around Nok, and skirted past Cora to enter the diner. Mali went behind them, licking her lips.
Lucky was the only one left. Cora went pale, thinking of their last conversation—the one that had made her run.
It’s time to grow up, he had said.
“Do you believe me, Lucky? That Earth is still there?”
He wiggled his toes in the long grass. “I don’t see why Mali would lie. She doesn’t care either way.”
“Maybe they lied to her too.” She hated the pleading tone in her voice, but she needed him to understand. “I’m not willing to take our captors’ word for it. If Earth is gone, I want to see it with my own eyes. The Mosca could take us there. We have a chance.”
He didn’t answer, and panic clutched at her throat. “I forgive you for everything, Lucky. For lying to the police about the accident. For taking my father’s money. I don’t care about any of that. All I care about is what happens now. You were going to risk your life for your country back home—don’t you still care about it? Don’t you still want that beach, and a beer, and a girl?”
“I have a beach,” he said quietly. “And I thought I had a girl too. Just drop all this talk about escape. Rolf . . . he sees you as a threat now. He thinks you and Leon are conspiring against us. He isn’t going to trust you anymore, now that you’re making these wild claims. Can’t you just accept this for what it is? Your father’s gone. All our sins are omitted. This can be the fresh start that we’ve always wanted.”
“That you’ve always wanted. I never wanted to walk away from my problems, move across the country because I couldn’t face my mother’s murderer.”
He clenched his jaw, then slowly shook his head. “You aren’t thinking straight. You should listen to Rolf. He’s a genius—he knows what’s best. We still have time to obey, Cora. The twenty-first day isn’t over until tonight.”
She stared at him, knowing exactly what he meant. “And if I don’t?”
He picked up the guitar. Flexed his knuckles. Didn’t meet her eyes. “Then you’re on your own.”
He climbed the steps to join the others. She clutched at her necklace, feeling the weight of the charms. The golf clubs for her dad. The theater mask for her mother. How could she give up on ever seeing them again?
She spun on her heels, trying to put as much distance as she could between herself and Lucky. She followed the path through the wildflower field to the desert and climbed the nearest dune until her calves burned and her resolve gave out, and she sank to the sand.
She heaved a breath and combed back her hair. She’d seen the date on the comic book. She’d heard the Mosca talking. If that ten-year-old Icelandic girl from the menagerie had escaped three times, why couldn’t she? She should forget the others. That’s how the girl at Bay Pines had escaped—alone. Thanks to Mali, Cora knew how to hide her thoughts. She just had to find the fail-safe exit, hide out in the corridors, and make her way to the black market traders. She’d take a weapon disguised as a toy—no one was cutting off her fingers to make into tea—and negotiate with them. Her wheat-blond hair for a ride back to Earth.