Chapter 50. Lorena #2
This wing has no furniture, and the walls, floors, and ceilings are in disrepair. Trevor uses his phone flashlight to illuminate our way, and soon we arrive at an enormous chimney fireplace, much larger than all the others I’ve seen so far. It’s sooty and dusted with ashes.
Trevor sets his stack of papers on the floor.
“What is this place?” I ask, setting mine next to his.
“I’ve been exploring all night for a good spot to do this, and this is the best I could find,” he says. He sets his phone down against the nearest wall so the flashlight illuminates us and the fireplace.
“To do what?” I ask.
In lieu of answering, he unzips his bag and pulls out a rifle with some kind of attachment that makes it look like a toy water gun. Only it’s real.
“What the fuck is that?” I ask.
“A flamethrower,” he says matter-of-factly.
“We’re going to burn these newsletters.” It was a question in my mind, but when I speak the words out loud, it comes out as a statement.
Trevor hands me a pair of goggles he must’ve found in the chemistry lab. He pulls on a pair, and I do the same, even though this is a ridiculous plan. We can’t set these papers on fire! Tiffany and Zach will kill us.
Especially Tiffany.
“They could just print these out again tomorrow,” I say.
“I was in the newsroom before coming to get you. First thing I did was erase the file. I needed you for this part because I couldn’t carry all the newsletters in one go, and you’re the only person I could trust to help me.”
“I—I don’t know,” I say tentatively. “Tiffany has a point. Maybe people should know.”
“Maybe,” he says, “but I don’t think this batshit newsletter is the way to tell them.”
I frown as a doubt crosses my mind. “Did William compel you?” I ask, studying Trevor’s greenish eyes as if I might find a physical sign of the vampire’s power. “Like to protect his interests or something?”
“No,” he says, then he tips his head like he’s not sure. “But how would I know?”
“I guess you could ask yourself: Why am I doing this?”
“I’m doing this because it’s not just the vampires’ secret,” he says without hesitation. “It’s also the Legion’s.”
Hearing that word come out of his mouth makes the threat of the Legion feel suddenly and bracingly real. I had no idea Trevor would care this much about following any rules, particularly since he’s constantly breaking them.
“First step is putting the newsletters in the fireplace,” he says, and he reaches down not for the papers but his phone. He holds it over the topmost newsletter and snaps a picture. Then he sets the phone back down again.
While he picks up his stack and carries it forward, I sneak a newsletter from my pile. Folding it in half, I stuff it in my waistband, against my lower back, hidden by my sweater.
Trevor comes over to pick up my pile and sets it next to his. Then he grabs the flamethrower and inspects it closely.
“Have you ever used one of those before?” I ask.
“No, but I’m pretty sure you just point, aim, and shoo—”
“Wait!”
He lowers the nozzle and looks at me. “Are we sure this is right?” I ask.
“No one is going to believe this newsletter,” he says with an exasperated sigh.
“Even Tiffany and Zach can’t be sure what’s accurate.
The Legion has all the real information, and if they haven’t shared it, there must be a reason.
Telling the world the truth about our history shouldn’t be some reactionary stunt. ”
His eyes widen suddenly, like he’s seen a vampire. “Holy shit, am I old?”
I roll my eyes. “You’re aiming a flamethrower to burn a newsletter written by a couple of whisteblowers who are exposing a global cover-up. I think that’s about as grown-up as it gets.”
“Stand back,” he says, and I retreat a couple of steps.
Then he holds the weapon with both hands and pulls the trigger. A blast of heat hits me in the face, and I leap back farther. Trevor steps away, too, as the papers catch fire and smoke rises up the chimney. If not for the goggles, my eyes would probably sting, but thankfully they’re protected.
Trevor lowers the flamethrower as fire consumes the newsletters. Red light illuminates his face, reflecting off his goggles, and he turns to me and says, “Tell me what’s going on with Salma.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, feigning ignorance.
“I’m not stupid,” he says. “She’s gotten weaker, and I don’t just mean the cast on her arm. She barely participates in PE anymore. The other day I even saw some bruises on her arm. I know something’s wrong.”
He really does pay close attention to Salma. More than I have. My best friend has been dying right in front of me, and I never even noticed.
Tears prick my eyes.
“I can’t tell you. I won’t betray her trust again. Ever.”
He stares at me a moment longer, then turns to the fire. The stacks of paper are now half the size, and even the flames are starting to shrink. “I get it,” he says. “I’m actually kind of jealous. I was tight like that with someone growing up, until his family moved away. I miss that.”
I can’t help thinking that’s what awaits me. Salma and I aren’t on the same path anymore. Her future is now all doctor’s visits and medications and procedures. And I have no idea how to go on without her.
I stare at the blackened scraps that are left, the fire now nearly out.
“Just tell me, what can I do?” Trevor raises his goggles as he turns to me. “There has to be something.”
“Don’t let her get killed by a vampire.” I take off my goggles and hand them back to him. “If we survive tomorrow, we can figure out the rest.”