Justin Cronin - The Twelve

“Not anymore.” One corner of Wilkes’s mouth gave a little twitch. “Are you testing me, Horace?”

“Maybe I am, a little.”

“Don’t.”

The word had more force behind it than Guilder had ever heard from the man. He couldn’t decide if this was reassuring or not.

“We’re going to have to get everybody on the same page, you know. Can I count on you?”

“Why do you even have to ask that?”

“Humor me, Fred.”

A hitch of time; then Wilkes nodded.

The right answer, but Wilkes’s hesitancy nagged. Why was Guilder asking? It wasn’t just the juvenile tenor of the meeting that bothered him; he’d dealt with that before. Somebody was always stepping on somebody else’s toes. Ouch! That hurt! No fair! I’m telling! Something deeper and more troubling was brewing. It was more than a failure of resolve; it had the feeling of an insurrection in the making. All his instincts told him so, as if he were perched over a widening crevasse, one foot on this side, one on the other.

He closed the drapes and returned to the table. “What’s the situation with the feedlot?”

The muscles in Wilkes’s face visibly relaxed; they were back on familiar ground. “The blast tore the place up pretty good. It will take at least three more days to repair the gates and lighting.”

Too long, thought Guilder. They’d have to do it in the open. Maybe it was better that way; he could kill two birds with one stone. A bit of theater, to get the troops in line. He pushed his notepad across the table to his chief of staff.

“Write this down.”

“It’s just so… strange.”

Lila had just come off her feeding and was deep within its throes. The blood had been delivered, by Guilder presumably, while Sara and Kate were playing in the courtyard. After two successive days above freezing, the snow had turned into a sticky skin, perfect for snowballs. They’d thrown them at each other for hours.

Now they were playing a game of beans and cups on the floor by the fire. The game was new to Sara; Kate had taught her. Another pleasure, to learn a game from one’s own child. Sara tried not to think how fleeting this would be. Any day the message from Nina could come.

“Yes, well,” Lila said, as if she and Sara had been having a conversation, “I’m going to have to be going on an errand soon.”

Sara paid this little attention. Lila’s mind seemed adrift in reverie. An errand to where?

“David says I have to go.” Facing the mirror, Lila made the scowly face she always adopted when speaking of David. “Lila, it’s for charity. I know you don’t like opera, but we absolutely have to go. Lila, this man is the head of a major hospital, all the wives will be there, how will it look if I have to go alone?” She sighed resignedly, her brush pausing on its journey through her lustrous mane of hair. “Maybe just once he’d think about what I want to do, the places I want to go. Now, Brad was thoughtful. Brad was the kind of man who listened.” Her eyes met Sara’s through the mirror. “Tell me something, Dani. Do you have a boyfriend? Someone special in your life? If you don’t mind my asking. My gosh, you’re certainly pretty enough. I bet you have dozens of them just beating down your door.”

Sara was momentarily disoriented by the question; Lila rarely, if ever, asked Sara anything about herself. “Not really.”

Lila considered this. “Well, that’s smart. You have lots of time yet. Play the field, don’t settle. If you meet the right man, you’ll know.” The woman resumed her careful brushing. Her voice was suddenly sad. “Remember that, Dani. There’s someone waiting out there for you. Once you find him, don’t let him out of your sight. I made that mistake, and now look at the fix I’m in.”

The remark, like so many, seemed to float in the ether, unable to touch down on any firm surface. Yet over the days of their confinement, Sara had begun to detect a pattern of meaning to these oblique utterances. They were shadows of something real: an actual history of people, places, events. If what Nina said about the woman was true—and Sara believed it to be so—Lila was every inch the monster the redeyes were. How many Evas had been sent to the basement because Lila had… what were Nina’s words? Lost interest . And yet Sara could not deny that there was something pitiable about the woman. She seemed so lost, so frail, so laden with regret. Sometimes , Lila had remarked once, apropos of nothing, and with the heaviest of sighs, I just don’t see how things can go on like this . And, one evening while Sara was rubbing lotion into her feet, Dani, did you ever think about just running away? Leaving your whole life behind and starting over? More and more she let Sara and Kate go their own way, as if she were abdicating her role in the little girl’s life—as if, at some level, she knew the truth. I look at the two of you and I think, How perfect you are together. That little girl adores you. Dani, you’re the piece of the puzzle that was missing .

“So what do you think?”

Sara’s attentions had returned to the game. She glanced up from the floor to see Lila looking earnestly at her.

“Dani, it’s your turn,” said Kate.

“Just a minute, sweetheart.” Then, to Lila: “I’m sorry. What do I think about what?”

An effortful smile was plastered to her face. “Coming with me. I think you’d be a great help. Jenny can look after Eva.”

“Come where?”

Sara could see it in Lila’s eyes: whatever their destination was, the woman absolutely didn’t want to go alone. “What does it matter, really? One of David’s… things . They’re usually just deadly, to be honest. I really could stand the company.” She bent forward from her stool and addressed the child. “What do you say, Eva? How about an evening with Jenny while Mummy goes out?”

The girl refused to meet her eye. “I want to stay with Dani.”

“Of course you do, pumpkin. We all love Dani. There’s no more special person in the world. But once in a while grown-ups have to go off to be by themselves, to do grown-up things. That’s just how it is sometimes.”

“Then you go.”

“Eva, I don’t think you’re listening to what I’m saying.”

The girl was tugging at the sleeve of Sara’s robe. “Tell her.”

Lila frowned. “Dani? What’s this about?”

“I don’t… know.” She looked at Kate, who had scuttled beside her on the floor, protectively wedging her body against Sara’s. Sara put an arm around her. “What is it, honey?”

“Eva,” Lila interjected, “what do you want Dani to tell me? Speak up, now.”

“I don’t like you,” the girl murmured into the folds of Sara’s robe.

Lila drew back, the color draining from her face. “What did you say?”

“I don’t like you! I like her! ”

Lila’s expression was beyond shock. It was a portrait of absolute rejection. Sara suddenly understood viscerally what had happened to the other Evas. This was what had happened.

“Well.” Lila cleared her throat, her wounded eyes roaming restlessly about the room, seeking some object to attach her attentions to. “I see.”

“Lila, she didn’t mean it.” The girl had resumed her protective huddle against Sara’s body, pressing her face into her robe while simultaneously watching Lila warily from the corner of her eye. “Tell her, sweetheart.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Lila said. “She couldn’t have made herself more clear.” The women rose unsteadily from her stool. Everything was different now; the words had been spoken. “If you will excuse me, I think I’ll lie down for a bit. David will be here soon.”