Lex Thomas - Quarantine - The Saints

“NO!” Hilary wailed, and charged at Lucy.

Lucy dropped the tooth into the flushing toilet. The whirlpool of water carried the little pearl straight down the tube. Hilary shoved her hands into the toilet bowl, frantically feeling around for it. Lucy ran for the door.

A Pretty One threw open the bathroom door, and Lucy kicked her in the shin. The girl buckled. She punched another one in the nose, just like Sophia had once shown her. She elbowed past the next two Pretty Ones in her path. They didn’t chase. They were probably too busy trying to figure out why their leader was clawing through toilet water like a dog trying to dig under a fence.

Lucy booked it down the hall, laughing with pure joy. Hilary had it coming.

She knew Hilary would try to make her pay for this at some point but she didn’t care. At least for a while, at least for today, Hilary was ruined.

She neared the cafeteria. She’d have to gather some stuff to trade at the market. The ceiling lights by the front doors to the cafeteria were functional, but the fifty feet of hallway between her and the doors was blacked out. Lucy didn’t bother to take out her phone for the weak light it would cast. She ran in the dark.

Lucy saw movement in the unlit hall. Shapes. Murky lumps lurking in the corners of her vision. She slowed her pace. Were her eyes playing tricks on her? The shapes grew distinct. They were boys and girls standing still in the darkness. Lucy slowed more. And when she did, the boys and girls began to walk toward her. They converged on her from all around. She whipped out her phone and clicked it on. They had white hair. Saints. What felt like ten pairs of hands grabbed her.

Someone plucked Lucy’s phone out of her fingers. The boy who did it, he shined her phone’s screen up to his own face. Her heart went cold. It was Gates, his face screwed up with tension, and his one red eye shut.

“Well, look who decided to come home,” Gates said.

WILL SMILED LIKE A FOOL. HE COULDN’Tstop. He had everything he wanted. The afternoon sun streamed in through the window of the copier room. It had nearly set behind the roofline, on the opposite side of the quad. He watched the last little curve of blazing light as it disappeared.

Will sprung to his feet. He took a spray bottle from one of the shelves nearby, and walked to the flower in the window. Will gave it six squirts from the spray bottle, just like the directions required, covering the flower in a fine mist. Lucy cared about this thing, and if it was important to her, he wanted to take care of it right. He leaned in and smelled its wet petals. He thought of how fantastic Lucy smelled. He thought of the wonders of her body. Her skin against his. He wished she was there with him right then. He wanted another thousand nights, just like the last one.

A faraway noise drifted in from the hallway on the other side of the door, beyond the copier. It was muffled, merely a murmur, but still, it was familiar. It was definitely someone talking, but he couldn’t make out a single word. He’d crawl into the vent and see if he could hear it better. No matter what Lucy had said, he couldn’t bear to stay put any longer. He felt too powerful to just lay around. Maybe this was what being a man felt like.

Will jumped up on the copier and pulled himself into the vent. The vent cover was dangling down by a string, a convenience made by whoever repurposed this room. He lit the shaft with his phone. He slid through, making sure to keep the bend and pop of the metal to a minimum. The voice was still speaking, still unintelligible, but a touch louder than in the copier room. It was an announcement over the PA system. It had to be, no normal voice would be loud enough to carry this far.

Will knew better than to head out into the stairwell when he reached the next vent. He knew better, but he still did it. Will popped the vent cover off. It dangled down by another string. He slid out and placed his feet on the third floor banister. His balance was precarious as he clicked the vent cover back in place, but eventually he got it, and jumped down onto the stairs. The stairwell was quiet. He maybe thought he was losing his mind, until P-Nut’s voice resounded from a hissing PA speaker located only a few feet from the vent.

“I get it,” P-Nut said. “You want me to stop playing it. I want to stop playing it. It’s a little on the weird side. But I’ll play it for a month if that’s what old Gates wants. I think he’s going to be one of my best customers when I open my new strip club, the P-Nut Gallery. You heard that right. Come forget your troubles with our lovely ladies, opening soon. But anyways… back to our regularly scheduled programming.”

There was a click, and Gates’s voice replaced P-Nut’s, icing Will’s blood in an instant.

“Will…” Gates’s voice was heavy, full of emotion. “Lucy is with me now. If you want to see her again, then you have to come back, buddy. I’m not mad at you. I know you think I’m mad, but I’m not. It’s not safe for you out there. I can’t keep you safe when you’re not with me. Please. I’m begging you. Come home, Will.”

Will knocked hard on the door to the cafeteria. He wore a gray hoodie that was three sizes too big for him. The front was splattered with deep brown soil stains thanks to what looked like a year or so of use as a rag for potting and unpotting the flower. The hood covered Will’s face though, as long as he kept staring at the floor. It had kept him from being identified so he could get here, and that’s all he needed from it.

The doors swung inward. A Slut with six paper clip wire hoops piercing one nostril peered out at Will. He edged his foot forward to block the door from being slammed shut in his face. It never came to that. The Slut grabbed Will by the sweatshirt just below his neck and yanked him in. Before he knew it, more hands were on him, and they were moving him fast. They dragged him into the dining hall and threw him forward.

Will stumbled and he came to a stop behind Violent, who was screaming at someone.

“Lips, I told you to—”

“Boss!” one of the Sluts that threw Will said. Violent turned and looked down at Will.

“You,” she said. Her lip curled and the corners of her mouth sunk.

“Yeah, me.”

“This is your fault.”

“Maybe.”

“Not maybe! Yes. What is it with you, huh? Why are you such a shit magnet?”

Will tried to stop his temper from flaring, but her words had already kicked the furnace door open.

“Why are you such a towering bitch? You can act like this is my fault, but you’re the one that’s got her walking around school like she’s bulletproof—”

Violent grabbed his hood, spun him round, and slammed him into a table. She was surprisingly strong. He felt something sharp pricking through the crotch of his jeans.

“Whoa, whoa!” he said, throwing his hands up. He looked down to the knife pressing into him. “Slow down.”

“She’s too good for you, you little bug!” Her pupils shook like the epicenters of micro-earthquakes.

It was a weird thing; despite the knife at his crotch, Will felt he could trust her.

“You love her, don’t you?” he said.

“I’ve never loved anyone.”

Will smiled. “Liar.”

He thought he saw a smile begin to arc her mouth upward just before she bared her teeth and jabbed him in the Adam’s apple with her fingers. Will couldn’t breath. He hacked and coughed, and his throat ground against itself like it was full of pumice grit.

Violent withdrew her knife. Will coughed so hard he felt the blood swell in his head. He saw spark clouds all across his vision.

“I should hand you over to Gates right now!” Violent said.