Feast of Weeds (Books 1--4) Page 18

  “All right,” she said as if this guy wasn’t dangerous, but rather a friend pointing us in the right direction. Maibe slipped down the far side of the tracks. I followed.

  “I’m Corrina and this is Maibe,” I said quietly.

  “You can call me Leaf.”

  “Leaf. Why are you doing this?”

  “We’re not going to hurt you if you follow directions,” he said. “No promises otherwise, but we’re not animals, if that’s what you’re really asking, but we’re protecting our space from everything and everyone.”

  We walked through knee-high weeds and over and down a sloped hill. We reached the boxcar and he had us sit against one rusted wheel in the weeds that had grown up around and under it.

  I tried to get Leaf to talk, but he wouldn’t have it. Maibe quickly fell asleep against the wheel and her head slipped onto my shoulder. She was not as scared as I thought she should be. Just because Leaf was close to our age didn't mean anything. Teenagers could be just as cruel as any adult. I knew this from personal experience.

  The group returned over the hill without the body. The tallest of the five walked with his arm around one of the others. The rest trailed behind. I thought they all looked Leaf's age or close to it, but they were too far away to be sure.

  I nudged Maibe awake.

  She stretched, sat up, stared as the group approached.

  I became nervous at their gaunt, mean looks. They fanned around us, like they were half of Stonehenge and Maibe and I were its center. All their skin had the same spidery web look. The tallest one seemed now to be the oldest and the leader the others were waiting on to speak. The rest looked younger than him. The shortest one was a girl, maybe sixteen. The other three boys seemed barely older than Maibe.

  “They tagged?” The girl said.

  “Yeah,” Leaf said. He glanced at Maibe. “It means you’ve got the cure same as us.”

  “Some cure,” the girl said.

  “Quiet, Gabbi,” the tall one said.

  “Who are you?” I asked.

  “This is Spencer,” Leaf said, referring to the tall one. “This is Gabbi, Ano, Ricker and Jimmy. Ike was with us too, for awhile, but not anymore.”

  “Was he the one you buried?” Maibe asked.

  “We had to take him out,” Leaf said, shaking his head.

  “He didn’t let us tag him and he went V,” Jimmy said, his voice high, his dark, curly hair like a handful of corkscrews across his forehead.

  “He should have let us tag him,” Gabbi said.

  “That's not what he wanted,” Leaf said.

  “Still,” Gabbi said. “He should have—”

  “He chose his death,” Ano said, speaking for the first time. A dark, brooding look entered his eyes. I shivered. One of the other fosters had gotten that look, usually when she was thinking about hurting herself.

  Something changed about their faces. Like a wave riding in, their eyes went glassy, unfocused. I scrambled back until I was hard up against the wheel. What memory was about to come alive?

  Gabbi pinched her arm and came back. She slugged Ricker in the shoulder. The others shook themselves back into focus like dogs throwing off water.

  “What’s V mean?” Maibe asked.

  “It means he went Violent instead of Feeb,” Spencer said.

  “Feeb?” I asked.

  “Feeb, old-looking, what all of us are now. You too.”

  “Do you know what’s going on?” I asked.

  “We sort of learned the hard way,” Spencer said.

  Leaf cocked his head. “We made up the names ourselves.”

  “But where did you all come from, where—”

  “You can’t tell by now that we’re street kids?” Gabbi said. “How dumb are you?”

  I hadn't been able to put my finger on that vibe they gave off. It made sense. They didn't seem scared or all that worried about the state of the world right then, but why would they? The world had already screwed them over long before the Lyssa virus came along.

  “Consider us homeless bums, if you like,” Ricker said, finally speaking. He was the thinnest of them all. His cheeks were almost hollowed out. “Leeching off the system as unproductive members of society and—”

  “Enough,” Spencer said.“Tie them up.”

  “Hey, wait!” I said.

  He walked away. “Gabbi, help me get things set up inside.”

  It didn’t matter how much I tried to argue, the boys refused to answer me. As Leaf went to Maibe, he said, “I’m going to tie it loose, okay? Tell me if it hurts and I’ll fix it.”

  “Okay,” she said. “But why do I have to get tied up at all? Why are you doing this?”

  “It’ll only be for the night,” Leaf said, but hesitated on the knots as if conflicted.

  “You don’t have to do this,” I said. Tears creeping into my eyes. I was glad it had become dark enough now that they were probably hidden. I hoped.

  “Yes, we do,” Jimmy said. “We always listen to Spencer, because he always knows what’s best.”

  “Then how come Ike died?” I said.

  “He didn’t listen to Spencer,” Leaf said and jumped after the others into the boxcar.

  Maibe and I sat tied to the wheel for what felt like hours. My shoulder ached, my knee ached, my heart ached. Tears still fell down my cheeks, making me itch. I'd followed Blitz because he was going after Dylan. I wanted to hear the truth from him and somehow everything would turn out okay. It was a foolish thought and I knew it and I couldn't help but think it. Instead I'd gotten stuck here with these six who had tied us up and planned to do who knows what with us. They should have given me the creeps, but somehow they didn't.

  When the last of the twilight faded and the cold began to seep deep into my bones, a light flared from within the boxcar. I wondered at their stupidity for starting a fire inside the car until I saw smoke swirl out what must have been a hole in the roof.

  Ricker jumped out of the boxcar and walked up the hill to stand guard. The other five bustled around the boxcar in the shadows, lifting down objects from makeshift shelves, putting them back, opening cans. I knew they were food cans once the smell reached us.

  “I’m starving,” Maibe said.

  “Me too.” I was about to yell out a request for food when Leaf jumped down to us with a can and a spoon in hand.

  “I can either feed this to you or untie Maibe and let her feed the both of you.”

  I looked to Maibe. She waited for me to do something. I nodded.

  “Untie me, please,” she said.

  I thought about how we might escape with her untied now, but all thoughts vanished as the first spoonful of beans hit my mouth. I chewed it down and took more from Maibe’s hands. I could have eaten the entire can, but once I saw it was halfway gone, I turned away the next spoonful. “I’m full. You have the rest.”

  Leaf eyed me. He knew I was lying and I felt his approval for it. “Sometimes leaving an edge of hunger keeps the memories back,” he said.

  As we finished our meager dinner, Spencer and Gabbi jumped down next to Leaf.

  “Why did you take us?” I asked. “And what do you plan to do with us? Why can’t we leave?”

  “You’re the ones who barged into our territory,” Spencer said. “You’re lucky Leaf was on lookout,” Spencer said. “He’s a lot nicer than us about checking for Feebs before shooting. You’d be dead if Gabbi had been out there instead.”

  Gabbi smiled at me.

  “That still doesn’t answer my questions.”

  “I don’t need to answer your questions.”

  “Then let us go.”

  “Eventually.”

  “Why not now?”

  “Because.” He stepped closer to my crouched body. He loomed over me and spoke in a voice that was both fierce and quiet. “We are grieving for our friend tonight and don’t have time for you.”

  The six of them hiked us out to the top of their lookout hill. In the daytime it overlooked the valley, t
he tracks, the river. Now in the dark only the smoke from still-burning fires was visible. It cloaked the area in a sort of soupy mess.

  Ano squatted on his heels and started a fire. The others sat cross-legged in the cold grass, forming a semi-circle. I drew the heavy blankets they'd given us around me and Maibe. I didn’t think it said much about their intelligence as street kids that they lit a fire in the blackness, on a night so thoroughly dark it could act as a beacon for others.

  Maibe shifted next to me. I helped her fix the blanket underneath since our hands and ankles were still tied. She huddled against my side and I used her counterweight for support. There was no sound except for the crackling of the fire and the random mini-explosions that seemed to haunt the city now that some of it was burning. But those sounds were muffled booms that felt far away.

  Spencer took out a knife. Gabbi lifted the shirtsleeve of her left arm. He carved a line of blood into her bicep, and then another. Gabbi grimaced but held still.

  After he was done, Ano came to Gabbi, wiped the blood away and rubbed a dark paste onto the wound.

  Spencer held the knife into the fire for a couple of minutes, waited for it to cool, and then repeated the act on Jimmy, Ricker, Leaf, and then himself.

  In the flickering light, I saw that Leaf’s and Spencer’s cuts were far lower on their biceps than some of the others. Shaky, scrawling, gray-black letters filled the upper part of their arms. Everyone had at least two names carved, but Leaf and Spencer had at least half a dozen.

  When Spencer had carved everyone, they cleaned the tools and returned to the half-circle. Now all sat cross-legged. I knew I was in deep darkness, and with the firelight there was no way for them to see us, but I thought Spencer looked right at me.

  Ano passed the bowl around. Each added more paste to their wounds.

  When they emptied the bowl, they sat in silence for a moment, and then someone doused the fire.

  I was blinded by the lack of light, and then a low howl echoed across the darkness. I flinched from the shock of the noise. Another low howl, and then a “yip, yip, yip.” I almost scrambled to my feet, almost woke Maibe from her coma-like sleep, and then realized the sounds originated not from the darkness, but from them.

  Their voices rose into the orange starlight like a pack of coyotes. It didn’t matter that coyotes didn't run in packs, their chorus of voices sounded real and chilling and fitting. Coyotes were the outcasts, the throwaway predators of the world, the scavengers, the ones no one cared to protect, and yet, they still survived. The coyote had outlasted the wolves and the bears and the mountain lions and thrived in the very places the other animals couldn't.

  Their howls stopped and there was silence for a long time. I began to nod off in spite of the shoulder wound that still ached. A soft thump landed next to me. I started awake. “Shh,” Leaf said. “I’m going to untie you. We're going back to the boxcar and closing the doors.”

  “Aren’t you afraid the Vs heard you?”

  “Sure we are,” Spencer said out of the darkness. Warm hands fumbled at my wrists. “That’s why we did it out here.”

  “But then—”

  “Some things are worth the risk.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I don’t expect you to.”

  There was a long silence.

  “I’m sorry for your friend,” I said.

  “He was more Mary’s friend than mine,” Spencer said.

  “Who’s Mary?”

  “No one you need to know about.”

  “I’m still sorry.”

  Spencer grunted and gathered up Maibe. I ignored the shock of cold at her departure. I scrambled for the fallen blankets and an instant’s thought crossed my mind about running off.

  I let the thought pass without action. There was Maibe, and there was something about this group.

  I climbed into the boxcar. The others were already laid out across the floor in a haphazard pile of limbs, blankets, snoring, dreaming. Leaf dropped our blankets in a pile on the floor.

  Spencer lifted the still-sleeping Maibe to me. I went to my knees and guided her onto an open spot.

  Spencer jumped into the boxcar. He handed me the blankets.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “Tomorrow we’re going to visit Officer Hanley at Cal Expo. "

  “I'm looking for my boyfriend,” I said, cringing even as the words came out. I didn't know what else to call him, but it didn't seem as if that word could possibly fit anymore. Not after Jane. Not after getting infected with this cure. I explained how he'd been captured and about the radio broadcast.

  “If he's been captured, he’ll be held there,” Leaf said.

  His words made hope rise in me. He sounded so sure.

  “But he might already be dead,” Spencer said. “Whoever is running the show over there needs cattle.”

  “Needs what?” My voice rose sharply. One of the boys groaned and tossed around in his sleep.

  “Mindless followers, test subjects, laborers, nay-sayers, foot soldiers, do-gooders, loyal subjects—”

  “—What do you mean about who is running the show?”

  “Some sort of military thing running not exactly by the book,” Spencer said. “Or maybe it is by the book. Or maybe by police or politicians. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that Officer Hanley is going to pay. If you want to help us, we’ll help you get inside Cal Expo.”

  I'd had experience with deals like these before. The group home hadn't exactly been Disneyland.

  “That is where you want to go, right?” He said.

  “What do I have to do in exchange?”

  “We’ll talk about that tomorrow.”

  “I won’t help you kill anyone,” I said. “I have never—” and then I stopped that sentence because I thought about the woman on Mr. Sidner’s front yard and about the chef and Matilda and her family.

  “We’re not killers, no matter what you think of us,” Spencer said, disgust in his voice.

  “No, I didn’t mean—”

  “Yes, you did.”

  The door creaked as Spencer pulled it closed. Darkness filled the boxcar. I suddenly felt suffocated by the smells of unwashed bodies, musty blankets, the spent ash of the fire, my own stink. I tried to think of some way to respond and came up with nothing.

  “We’ll help you get inside, if that’s what you want,” he said. “But we’re not going to help you back out.”

  For all Spencer might know about surviving on the street, that didn’t mean he was right about Cal Expo. If that was where people were organizing, where the police or military or government were, that was the safest place to be. I hadn’t liked the foster care system, but it had been better than running away and becoming homeless.

  Cal Expo, with its walls and guns and military protection would be a hundred times safer for Maibe than out here, even with this fierce group of six.

  Chapter 14

  I woke up groggy and with the aftertaste of bean paste in my mouth. I desperately wanted water and noticed a glass jug and a few plastic cups. I untangled myself from the blankets and quietly stepped over still-sleeping bodies. Light entered through the smoke hole, and also through cracked walls.

  Leaf lay in a fetal position on his side, his blankets wrapped into a lump against his chest as if he were holding a beloved stuffed animal. Gabbi jerked and mumbled in her sleep as if from bad dreams, or bad memories. There wasn't much difference anymore. Ano, Ricker, and Jimmy looked like puppies who had fallen asleep at the comforting, interwoven touch of a brother. The pup-brothers, pup-boys, I named them in my head.

  The wispy bodies of my old foster mates ghosted into appearance. They overlaid the sleeping forms of these runaways in a mismatched silver border. I realized why I felt both uncomfortable and unafraid of Leaf and the others. This was a sort of end-of-the-world group home. In the old version, my parents had both died and the state took over. I had hated how the foster parents always got into our business, how everyone preten
ded to care about each other, how we went through the motions of being a family. How they had asked me to find a new place to live when I turned seventeen. They’d wanted to make room for a pair of ten-year-old siblings. I’d been hurt, even as I understood they had meant well.

  In this new version, I lost my life all over again with the infection and the cure. I was outside this makeshift family. I was always on the outside. It hurt worse this time because it didn’t feel fake here like it had in the group home.

  Spencer stood leaning against the wall of the boxcar. It took me a startled moment to realize he was staring. I could not read his expression, but guessed all the same what he might be thinking. If I put his family of runaways in danger, he would make me pay.

  A dull ache I easily recognized as loneliness settled into my chest. Before I could protest his silent accusation, he spoke. “Good morning, rejects,” he said in a loud voice, and then paused. Bodies stirred under blankets. “Life is good…”

  “…until it’s not,” Gabbi and Leaf said in unison. Ano, Ricker, and Jimmy repeated the answering phrase a second later.

  Spencer nodded in approval. “Now get up and get some damn breakfast into you. We’ve got to take care of Officer Hanley today.”

  Ricker and Ano grinned at each other and jumped from the blankets to rustle food out of a stack of cans. Gabbi pulled out a little propane stove and set about boiling water. Leaf gathered up the blankets and Maibe and I helped him.

  Gabbi finished the oatmeal. Jimmy heated up the rest of breakfast—beans in a can they passed around. We each dipped in our dirty fingers for a sweet, dripping section of peach.

  As the light grew brighter in the boxcar, I saw how the infection sat on each of us. Ashy skin, fine wrinkles like a spiderweb, sun-spots and veins showing clearly across paper-like, fragile skin—it didn’t matter what color skin: brown, black, white.

  “Gabbi, examine the perimeter before we open the doors,” Spencer said.

  She wolfed down her last peach section and wiped her hands on her jeans. She came back with a telescope. Leaf grabbed a stool. The pup-boys cleared breakfast.

  She positioned the telescope and moved in a careful circle. Her ankles were eye level with me. Dirt blended with the ragged edges of her jeans so as to look like dark socks. She wore torn-up tennis shoes and angry bug bites laced her exposed skin. The same bites covered the exposed parts of her arms.