Lex Thomas - Quaranteen

Thank God for Lucy. She was the only thing keeping Will here, and David knew it. He’d tried to thank Will for saving his life several times over the past week and a half, but it didn’t seem to make a dent. Everything David did seemed to piss Will off.

This boiler room was hell, but he couldn’t leave until he came up with a plan. Nothing changed the game like a good strategy, but he’d been racking his brain for too long. It wasn’t just Will; everyone was starting to get anxious. He knew what they were thinking when they stared at him. If David’s our leader, then when’s he gonna lead? What’s the next move?

David had no idea.

He didn’t even know how they were all still alive. Everyone seemed to believe that the fact that Varsity hadn’t attacked this whole time meant that no one knew they were down here,

or that Varsity was scared of David. David didn’t buy that. He knew there was no way Sam would let things end like they had in the quad. Every day that Sam didn’t attack, David grew more wary. What was he up to?

David tripped over his laundry bucket. The dirty water splashed onto his browned sneaker. He’d thought the laundry business could be a trade for the whole group, but it was a miserable failure. Will and David had barely eked out a living doing laundry before. There just wasn’t enough business to spread the profits between fifteen people and have it be viable. The pathetic amount of food they’d managed to get in the past week and a half was proof of that. On top of it, they couldn’t keep running a laundry service out of a dump. Everything smelled worse on the way out than it did on the way in.

There was no trade in McKinley that wasn’t already accounted for. And if the fifteen of them tried to fight in the upcoming food drop, Varsity would take them out in five minutes.

David’s stomach growled at him. His neck was still sore from the attempted lynching. He tried not to think about how he was as hungry and afraid as the others. Maybe more. He couldn’t be. He was the one they were depending on. He had to be fearless.

He heard the excited voices of his gang outside the door.

Then there was a knock. David stared at the door. Maybe they would just go away if he didn’t answer.

“David? It’s Lucy. It’s dinnertime.”

“Uh… that’s okay. I’m not hungry,” he lied.

“Oh,” she said. “But Will and I have a surprise for you.” Shit. A surprise. Only an asshole turns down a surprise.

“Okay…”

He opened the door. The stench of curdled trash bit the inside of his nose. Lucy was wearing a scarf over her nose and mouth, but he could tell by the crinkles in the corners of her eyes that she was smiling.

David did a double take as he stepped into the camp. No one was around, or so it seemed at first glance. A brand-new structure stood behind the largest trash pile-a twelve-foot-long tent made out of black garbage bag plastic. Conversation emanated from the tent.

“You ready?” she said, and reached for David’s hand.

“Everyone’s inside. Now, when we go in, be quick. So far, I’ve managed to keep the smell out.”

“Then I guess the twins aren’t in there.” Lucy laughed. It made him feel a little better. She pulled apart the layers of hanging black plastic, and they ducked under it.

Inside, everyone sat around a plywood table. The only light came from three flashlights, sitting pointed up, like a candle centerpiece. One had a weak set of batteries, and it flickered like a dying flame. If hobos had banquets, this was what they’d look like. The others quieted upon David’s entrance.

Nelson stood and saluted him. Leonard tugged on Nelson’s sleeve, signaling him to sit back down.

Everyone watched as David took a seat at the head of the table. Lucy sat to his right. Will had positioned himself at the other end of the long table. As a result, he was barely visible to David, just a pair of eyes in the darkness.

David breathed in deep for Lucy’s benefit. He was amazed by the legitimate lack of stink. Instead, there was a distinct, familiar scent.

“Is that vinegar?”

Lucy pulled down her scarf and said, “We used it to scrub everything clean.”

David looked down at the place setting before him. His plate was made from the square cover of a binder. An anarchy symbol and other ancient classroom doodles were scrawled onto it in ballpoint pen. A spread of crackers and a few cuts of salami were scattered over it. He took a deep breath, then looked to the gang.

“Hi, everybody,” David said. “Um… I guess, first, I want to thank Will and Lucy for putting together this dinner-”

“It was Lucy’s idea, not mine.” Will said abruptly.

“Well, all the same, I think it’s just what we needed. Right?” There were a few nods, but for the most part, the faces he saw echoed his fear. They wanted answers. A state of the union. He had to tell them that he didn’t have a clue.

“Anyone have any news?” David asked.

“A Skater threw his trash bags at me yesterday,” Nelson volunteered.

“I think we might be losing trades because we smell bad,” Mort said.

“No shit,” Will said.

“Do we have more food coming in, ’cause I might want to save this if we don’t,” Dorothy said, looking at her plate.

“Well…,” David said.

“What are we gonna do, David?” Will said. It was more of a challenge than a question. David stared down the length of the table at his obnoxious brother. Will was leaning into the flickering light now. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m sick of living like a rat.”

The table gasped and muttered about Will’s insolence.

They waited for David’s swift and strong response, which would put Will in his place. Seconds passed. Smudge laughed.

David’s anger over Will’s comment was making it hard to think straight.

“Unfortunately, the situation is-”

In the middle of David’s sentence, a Varsity tore the tent open. The whole table sprang to their feet at once and scattered. The tent was torn to pieces. Someone smashed into David from behind. He tumbled forward, got caught in the tatters of black plastic, and fell to the ground. He dug his way out of plastic to see the camp under a full-scale attack.

Varsity was destroying everything in its path. Three of them were pulling down the desk wall of the girls’ quarters.

Will was wrestling with a Varsity on the ground. He saw the boy twin yank his sister out of the way, just in time to miss the swipe of a Varsity pipe. He saw Nelson get knocked into a trash wall next to him. Nelson held his chest and grimaced in pain. A Varsity stood over him with a lacrosse stick.

David spotted a file cabinet drawer in a pile of trash by his feet. He grabbed it and swung it hard into the Varsity’s head, catching him in the ear with the drawer’s metal corner. The Varsity crumpled to the ground. Half of his ear was torn away.

David reached out to pull Nelson up when a sharp pain dug into his ribs. He dropped to one knee. He jerked around as fast as he could manage. His attacker was already running the other way, holding a field hockey stick in his hand. He couldn’t see his face, but whoever it was, David thought the guy was a coward, until he saw all of Varsity running back to the double doors that exited to the stairwell. Most of David’s gang was strewn across the clearing, groaning from their injuries.

A plume of brown smoke rose up from trash clustered by the exit. And then, the first lick of orange flame.

“Fire!” David shouted.

David ran toward the fire. Will and Mort were on his heels.

Others pulled themselves to their feet. David stomped on the first small fire he came to, a flaming, stuffed garbage bag. He kicked it toward the exit, but the doors were closing.