More Than Good Enough(25)

“There’s a door,” I said.

“Yeah, I can see that.”

I jammed my pocketknife into the lock, gave the knob a few twists. Just like magic, it swung open.

“If you think I’m going in there, you’re insane,” Pippa said.

“Suit yourself.” I dipped inside, leaving her alone with the shriveled trees and the vultures swaying on the horizon.

After a few minutes, Pippa couldn’t stand it anymore. She poked her head through the door, blinking against the dimness. It smelled like rusted metal and old things, like air that hadn’t been breathed.

“Trent? If this is your idea of a joke, I’m sure as hell not laughing.”

I turned on my flashlight. A halo bounced on the wall. I flicked it on and off like a strobe effect. “Wooo. It’s a rave party.”

“Stop it,” she said. “You’re giving me a migraine.”

We were in some kind of military hanger. Orange paint flaked off the walls, peeling like a bad sunburn. The ceiling was crisscrossed with aluminum pipes and dangling lamps.

As we staggered forward, I bumped into a traffic cone. I crushed it under my sneaker. The cone fell sideways in front of us. “Get up,” I shouted at it. “You can do it. Don’t lose hope now.”

Pippa was edging toward the door. I turned the flashlight off, leaving us in a blackness so heavy it was almost solid. For a second, I couldn’t catch my breath. The dark had knocked it out of me.

“I can see you smiling.” I grabbed her waist.

“If you don’t let go in two seconds … ”

I clicked the flashlight on. We both stared at the wall, where a poster of the Statue of Liberty stared back. Her lower half had peeled off, leaving curls of masking tape.

“Don’t worry, girl.” I tightened my hold around her waist. “You’re safe with me.”

Pippa jabbed her elbow into my ribs.

I grunted and finally dropped her. “Why the hell did you do that?”

“Because you’re being a jerk.”

I stood there, rubbing my chest, as if she had inflicted real damage. “We should probably jet. Unless you want to get lung cancer from the asbestos.”

“Right,” she said, heading straight for the door. Beside the handle was a sign chiseled with faded warnings: IN CASE OF ELECTRIC SHOCK, USE WOODEN POLE OR ROPE TO REMOVE VICTIM.

“Wrong way.” I jabbed my thumb in the other direction.

Pippa followed me into the sunlight. I was still thinking about that kiss. This wasn’t just any random girl. If I messed up with Pippa, I’d be losing a lot more. Was it worth crossing out of the friend zone? At that moment, I couldn’t decide.

“Did you hear that?” she asked.

We listened.

I heard two things: the blood punching into my fingertips and the beat of my sneakers as they sliced through the grass.

“Um. Not really,” I said. “Did you take your anti-zombie meds today?”

“Right on schedule.” She stuck out her tongue.

“Great. Just what I needed to know.”

“Well, you’re acting like a complete psycho. Can we go now?”

“Wait up.” I thrust an arm in front of her. “Swear to God, I just heard this crazy noise.”

“Like what exactly?”

I shrugged. “Couldn’t tell you.”

“Well, that really makes me feel better.”

“Nothing’s gonna happen. I’ve got it all under control. You know. Making the magic happen.” I tossed my backpack on the ground and felt around inside. My fingers brushed against metal. The handle almost felt like a toy, but it was real.

“Where did you get that thing?” Pippa asked. “Did you think we’d be gang-banging in the Everglades? Even rappers couldn’t get away with that crap.”

“It’s my dad’s. When I turn twenty-one, I’m getting it registered in my name.” I wrapped it in a sweatshirt.

“Please explain why you’re carrying a loaded weapon in your backpack.”

“It’s not loaded.”

“And I’m supposed to believe that?”

“Want me to show you?”

She shook her head. “I’ll pass.”

We walked to the fence, where my army jacket slumped like a dead body. Almost an hour ago, we’d been having fun. Now this entire day had gone to hell.

I crammed my foot in the chain-link and pulled myself over. Pippa took her sweet time, but she made it down first. I was at the top of the fence, trying to yank my jacket from the barbed wire, but it was stuck. I kept tugging until it ripped free.

“That didn’t sound good,” Pippa said. “Is there a merit badge for sewing? Or maybe you could borrow my Hello Kitty stapler.”

“Shut up.” I threw the shredded jacket toward the weeds. It cartwheeled in mid-air and landed with a flop. The more I tried not to laugh, the worse it got. Then we both cracked up.

“You’re so evil,” I said.

Pippa smiled. “I try.”

Near the road, a couple of egrets swooped and took off, flapping without a sound. No sign of the Kawasaki.

“It’s gotta be somewhere,” I muttered.

We pushed back the sawgrass. The jagged leaves stung like a paper cut. I kept looking, though we both knew what I didn’t say out loud. The bike was gone.