Chapter Fifty-Five
STILTED AIR COILS AROUND THE supply room like a snake poised to attack. Battered boxes soak up white noise, the cardboard stacked up to the ceiling. A thousand pops run through my knuckles as I curl them into fists. I pull the gun out of my back pocket.
When I used to unload food with the boys, this supply room ran amok—loud, full of energy, Fred always stumbling over something. Now, my soft footsteps are the only thing to break the silence.
Because half of the boys are dead.
I check my watch. Everybody will be at the church for lunch, so I should be able to make it out of the rectory without anyone seeing me. And then I’ll book it back to our old apartment to wait for Bunny; hopefully she chooses to spend some of her short lunch break at home.
I shut the supply room door behind me and tread down the hallway, then peek out the small diamond-shaped window in the rectory’s front door—the coast, as predicted, is clear. I pry open the door and move quietly and quickly through the grounds, urging my heart to stop beating so damn fast.
Weeks away from Egal have bled into years. It looks, smells—feels—different here. Cold wind blows by and bites the tip of my nose. I grab the strings of my hoodie under my chin and pull them tighter.
The streets are bare, almost as though the town has been abandoned. Logically, I know that isn’t true. Everyone is taking lunch together, lest they miss it and don’t get fed.
Little do they all know how much food Chandler is hiding beneath the rectory.
And bodies.
I lick my dry lips, my tongue scratchy and sour. No more time to ponder Chandler’s wrongdoings. I’ve got to get a move on.
I squat and hunch my shoulders, the position all too familiar after my long tunnel crawl.
As silently as I can, I weave through the streets, hiding behind tangled bushes and beheaded tree trunks.
Every few feet, I whip my head around to check my surroundings.
Every few feet, I imagine someone will spot me.
My worries are in vain, because I arrive at my destination unseen.
Row house 28. Welcome home.
The apartment is empty.
It still smells like rose perfume.
A single tear escapes my eyes. I let it fall and splash onto the wood floor. Evidence of my arrival.
Everything else is the same as when I left—when I was captured. A ratty quilt strewn haphazardly on the worn couch, a single candle stump with a burnt wick on the floor, Bunny’s drawings carved into the wood coffee table. She hasn’t created anything new.
I pull down my hoodie and enter the cramped bedroom. The bed’s unmade, the outline of Bunny’s slight figure imprinted into the mattress. I hope she’s been sleeping soundly through the nights.
I check the digital watch—12:40.
Come home soon.
Soft daylight streams through the striped sheet draped over the window, casting shadows over the bed. It looks so soft. So cozy. So . . . warm.
I take the lumpy pillow off the bed and smoosh it over my face. I breathe in the scents of my family. We weren’t always happy living together in this apartment, but we had each other.
A soft, mousy voice turns my head. “Kotie.”
Bunny stands in the doorway, her sweet, pudgy face all I can see. Her full lips are pulled into a smile so the sides of her mouth reach her ears. Her big brown eyes have never seemed so vibrant.
“Bunny.” I reach up to caress her cheeks.
Her response isn’t as gentle. My little sister jumps on top of me, embracing me in a full-body hug. “You’re home! You’re home, you’re home, you’re home!”
“Shhh,” I say, squeezing her tight. She smells like a mixture of freshly bloomed flowers and Cheerios and sunlight. “Nobody can know I’m here.”
“What? Why? The boys will be so happy!”
“Keep your voice down, Bun,” I say, pushing us both up to a seat.
“The boys have been looking for you for weeks. I mean, Kota—damn! You escaped from the evil Macs! That’s crazy!”
“When did you start saying damn?”
Bunny shrugs. “Grandma cursed a lot while you were gone. Before she . . .”
Grandma.
I shimmy off the bed and bend down to stand eye level with my sister, placing my hands on her shoulders. “I’m going back to Macoby, Bunny.”
She quirks her head to the side. “I don’t understand.” I take her hands in mine, and she stares at me with her face pinched in confusion. “Tell me what’s going on. I have to get back to work soon, or I’ll get in trouble.”
“No, Bunny, you won’t. You’re not going back to work. You’re coming with me.”
“What? No. You’re staying here—with me. In Egal!”
“I promise you, Bun, it’s better over there, in Macoby. There’s more food—meat, even. And tons of good people.” Her wide eyes well with tears. “And the best part, Bun? You don’t ever have to work again.”
“But . . . the Macs killed Grandma.”
And then her tears well over, and my sister crumbles before me.
“Oh, my love.” As soon as she sags to the floor, I drop to my knees and pull her into a tight hug.
We sit there for only a moment before I peel her hands away from her face.
She stares at the ground, refusing to meet my eyes.
“Look at me. Bunny Rebecca, pick your chin up. Look at me.”
She gazes at me from beneath her wet lashes and bites her wobbling lower lip.
I say, “Chandler killed Grandma.” Bunny’s ears twitch in surprise. “Chandler killed Grandma, and she’ll kill us, too, if we don’t leave.”
“Wh-what?”
“Do you believe me, Bunny? Do you believe I’m telling you the truth?”
She closes her watery eyes for a second, a tear spilling from beneath her dark lashes. Her light brows pinch together as realizations dawn on her face. Everything she’s been forced to see, to do, it’s not right for a girl her age.
She tilts her chin up toward me. “Of course I do,” she says, a layer of naivete peeled away. Bunny squeezes my hand. “You’re my sister. Of course I believe you.”
“Then we have to go. And we have to go now.” I check my watch.
Lunch break ends in ten minutes. Exactly how much time we need to get back to the tunnel.
“I’m going to bring you to a tunnel. I went through it alone, but you won’t.
Garrett’s waiting for you—you’ll like him.
He reminds me of West, but with a country accent.
” I take Bunny’s head in my hands to direct her attention.
I’m not sure she’s listening to me. “Garrett will guide you through the tunnel. You don’t have a flashlight, do you? ”
She shakes her head no, and I feel stupid for even asking.
“It’s fine,” I say. “You don’t need it.”
BY THE TIME WE’VE MADE it back to the rectory basement, Bunny’s entire body shakes.
She’s an earthquake, and I fear she’ll take the whole place down.
But she trusted me, and deserves for me to do the same.
She’ll be okay. She’s strong and smart, and most importantly, she’s brave.
I’ll see her on the other side. I have to believe that.
Garrett waits behind the burlap entrance, tucked into the shadowy mouth of the tunnel where I left him. I say, “Your package has arrived,” and he jumps.
“Shit! You could’ve made a smoother entrance.”
“No time to waste.” I guide Bunny into the hole, barely touching her so as to hide the trembling of my hands.
Three empty cans of SpaghettiOs lay by Garrett’s feet.
He looks alive again, his face full of color and his blue eyes bright.
“Garrett, this is my sister, Bunny. She’ll be traveling with you today. ”
“Bunny,” Garrett says, extending his hand toward her. She hesitates but takes it, and he gives it a proper Southern shake. “Cool name. This is gonna be—”
“What’s that?” I ask, heart plummeting. A pink-red, crimped, crescent-shaped mark extends the space between his pointer finger and thumb.
“This? It’s . . . it’s nothin’,” he says, snatching his hand away.
“I’m about to send you through a fucking tunnel alone with my sister. Tell me what it is.”
“Chander, she . . . It’s a bite.”
“What?”
He raises his arms in protest. “You don’t have to worry—it’s been two weeks since I was bitten. She found a way to stop it.”
“And you’re just telling me this now?” I spit the words out.
My mind reels. What does this mean for us, for our future? Does this justify Chandler’s actions?
“I need to get out of here,” he says. “Please.”
He’s desperate. I get it. But still.
“No.” I grit my teeth. “You’re not leaving with my sister.” I turn to Bunny, fright building in her wide eyes. I smile and say, “You have to go alone, Bunny.”
“Kotie, I can’t.”
“Never say those words again. You can.”
“I’m . . . I’m so scared.”
“I know you’re scared. You have every right to be. But don’t let it win, do you hear me? Be strong.” I turn to Garrett. “And you, get the hell away from my sister.”
“What am I supposed to do?” he asks, his voice trembling.
“Leave tonight,” I say. “Through the tunnel. Bunny will have made it out by then. And soon as you’re in Macoby, find Jasper. Tell him about the bite. This could change everything.”
“But what if he—”
“Or stay here.”
He practically launches himself out of the hole and slumps into a sitting position beside me. “No thanks. I’ll hide until sundown.”
I hand him my watch. “Wait until five o’clock. Please.”
“You have my word,” he says.
For a moment, I think I might let him stay here. Trust him. But too many people have proven that words are empty, that promises are fragile.
“I’m sorry.” I stab him in the ankle. Before he can yelp, I slap a hand over his mouth. Bunny sucks in a shocked breath. I ignore the guilt rising in my belly. It will only hinder me. “You won’t bleed out. But I need to slow you down. I can’t take the risk . . .”
I trail off, but I don’t need to finish. Tears well in Garrett’s eyes, and he nods his head. He understands. Meanwhile, Bunny’s an eight on the Richter scale. I relay my instructions to her. “Crawl through the tunnel, Bun. As fast as you can. And I’ll see you on the other side.”
“What if—”
“I love you.” I memorize my sister’s face: her gumdrop cheeks, innocent eyes, long lashes.
“I love you, too.”
I shut the flap and say a silent goodbye.