Richard Kadrey - Dead Set

An hour later, Zoe was startled by the sound of the final bell. This was followed by the thunder of feet as the first kids hit the doors and made it outside like they were going to win a prize for their speed. These sounds from the normal world shook Zoe out of her trance and she went in through a side entrance, walking against the flow of bodies. Inside her locker she found an old T-shirt and wiped the last of the sweat from her face. Then she gathered her books together and went out through the front entrance to wait.

Her mother drove up a few minutes later, honking twice as she pulled to the curb. Zoe got into the car and smiled at her mother automatically, but without meeting her eyes.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hi yourself,” said her mother. “How was it being back in your classes?”

Zoe didn’t answer for a minute. “Same as always,” she said.

“Which means what?”

“The only teacher I have who isn’t an idiot is Mr. Danvers.”

“I don’t remember. What does he teach?”

“Biology.”

“What did he teach you today?”

Zoe had to think for a minute. What had Mr. Danvers talked about? She hadn’t been listening, but his talks always got through, even on bad days.

“Teeth,” she said finally. “For different species. Cow’s teeth for chewing grass. Lion teeth for ripping flesh. Snake’s teeth for injecting venom.”

“Did he say anything about our teeth?”

“We’re omnivores. We have a bunch of different teeth, but none of them are very good for fighting or killing.” Then she added quietly, “Which isn’t fair.”

Her mother nodded. “I know what you mean. The insurance company and all these job interviews the last few weeks, I’ve wanted to bite a few people myself.”

Zoe didn’t say anything. She just stared out the side window, watching the streets roll by.

“Aren’t you going to ask about my day?” Zoe’s mother asked.

“I’m sorry. How was your day?”

“Well, Maggie at the law office finally got the insurance company to admit that losing your father’s paperwork was their fault. That’s the first piece of good news from them.”

Zoe sighed. She imagined her father being packed away in a dusty box with other dusty boxes in Emmett’s back room. “They finally believe Dad existed. Good for them.”

“And there’s something else,” her mother went on. “I might have a job. It’s not a dream job. It’s just a junior designer position, but it’s with a cool clothing-design company called Kitty with a Whip. Have you heard of them?”

“Yeah. Lots of kids at school wear their stuff.”

“The owner is Raymond, this really sweet older guy who remembered some flyers I did for a gay club he used to work at about a million years ago. And there are a lot of great young designers. I could learn a lot working at a place like that.”

Zoe couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard her mother sound so excited. She wished she could feel happier for her.

“That sounds really great, Mom. I’m really happy for you.”

Zoe’s mother looked at her. “Are you all right? You mad at me for picking you up and making you study?”

“No. I just don’t feel so good right now.”

Her mother reached across the car and put a hand on Zoe’s forehead. “You do feel a little warm.”

“I’m fine,” said Zoe, wanting her mother to lose control of the car and plow into a gas station or cross the center line and drive head-on into a bus.

“When we get home, you can study in bed,” said her mother. “I’ll bring you some lemon tea.”

“Thanks,” said Zoe, wanting to tell her mother everything, to confess it all and beg for her help, yet knowing she couldn’t say a word.

The elevator wasn’t working again, so they walked up the four flights to the apartment. Her mother took off her office shoes and went up in her stockings. Neither of them talked on the way. They were both out of breath when they reached the top. Zoe was sweating again and felt cold.

Her mother went straight to her bedroom to change and Zoe went to hers. She set her books at the end of the bed, took off her sneakers, and crawled under the cool covers. Her mother came in with a cup of microwaved tea a couple of minutes later. Zoe sipped it politely, but all she wanted to do was lie down and ease herself into the dark for a while.

“I’ll come in and check on you later,” said her mother.

“Okay. Thanks.”

When her mother was gone, she pulled the covers up to her chin and closed her eyes. She wanted desperately to see Valentine. He was older, and although he didn’t always understand exactly how her nondreamworld worked, he was smart and clever. He’d largely planned and built the tree fort on his own. He was always full of plans. He’d know what to do.

But sleep wouldn’t come. She tried breathing exercises she’d learned at the hospital-counting backward from a hundred and relaxing all her muscles one at a time. Nothing worked. She got up and looked in her dresser for the Xanax she’d taken from her mother’s purse months ago, but she couldn’t find them. She lay back down, closed her eyes, and just let her mind drift.

Would it really be so terrible if I can’t get Dad’s record back? she wondered. She’d seen him and spent a wonderful afternoon with him. He was all right and Iphigene was kind of a cool-looking place.

But Emmett had figured out the tooth she’d given him wasn’t hers. And someone was watching Zoe and Valentine from the mountain. Valentine didn’t trust Emmett. And Emmett had gone out of his way to tell her that he sold things only to people who could pay.

Would Emmett do something with Dad’s record? Something that could hurt him? There were so many LPs in that back room. Who were they for? Who would make them or buy them? Even Emmett didn’t know, or that’s what he claimed. Zoe’s father said that some people got stuck in Iphigene forever. Had Zoe done something that would trap her father there forever?

Her stomach churned like she was going to throw up, so she went into the bathroom and opened the toilet lid. She sat down with her back against the bathtub and waited. But nothing happened. And then she remembered something.

Emmett didn’t say anything about the record. It could still be in the shop somewhere. She had to know if it was there, and if it was, she had to get it, whatever it might cost.

Later, her mother came in and put a hand on Zoe’s forehead. Zoe kept her eyes shut and her breathing shallow and regular, pretending to be asleep. After a couple of minutes, her mother left. Zoe heard her in the kitchen. Then she was in the bathroom, where Zoe heard running water and her mother brushing her teeth. Finally, her mother went to her bedroom and the apartment became quiet. Zoe looked at the alarm clock by her bed. It was just after eleven. Another hour, she thought. Just to make sure Mom is asleep.

When midnight finally came, she slipped out of bed, trying to keep her mattress springs from squeaking. Padding around her room in bare feet, she gathered up the things she’d need. She opened the window and set an old pair of surplus-store boots on the fire escape. Then she changed into the Runaways T-shirt Joan Jett had given her father back in the day. She pulled on her lucky black hoodie, the one with cat ears on the hood. She slipped out the window and closed it behind her thinking, I know this is crazy, but what else is there left to do?

She started up the fire escape when she realized she’d forgotten something. She opened the window just enough to squeeze through and grabbed her father’s straight razor from where she’d kicked it under the bed to keep her mother from seeing it. She closed the window and ran up to the roof.