She looked at him apologetically. "Sorry."
He was silent for a moment. "So where were you going to call from?"
"A phone in the office. Or the pay phone by the gym if that didn't work."
"Who were you going to call?"
"I don't know," she admitted. "The police in Vallejo, maybe. Or Oakland.
Or San Francisco."
He nodded. "Sounds like a plan. But I'm coming with you."
"Okay."
Together they moved aside the desk and chairs they'd used to block the door. Kevin put his ear to the door for a moment, listening to make sure no one was out there, before opening it.
The hallway was deserted. And dark. It was morning, but no windows opened onto the hallway, and, save for theirs, the doors to all of the classrooms were closed. The lights were off.
Penelope had never seen the school like this, and somehow it seemed creepier than it had last night. Buildings were supposed to be dark at nighttime, but this daytime gloom was unnerving.
They walked slowly down the hallway toward the stairs, not speaking, treading softly. There were no sounds other than their own, but instead of reassuring her, the silence made her feel uneasy, on edge. Someone could be lying in wait for them right now, hearing their every move, listening to their progress, preparing to leap out from behind one of these closed doors ... They made it safely to the stairway, started quietly down.
It was not as dark downstairs. A row of thin windows high above the lockers let in a dusty version of daylight. There was no noise, no indication that anyone else was Present, but Penelope still felt tense.
They should have brought weapons, she thought. They were stupid. If some*| one attacked them, they had nothing with which to fighls back.
They walked toward the office. It was weird being ia| here like this.
Usually, the corridor was crammed with! students rushing to and from classes, sorting through theirl lockers, talking and laughing with one another. Butjl empty, the hallway seemed not only sad and lonely but, Jf under the circumstances, ominous.
The office door was locked, but the door to the staff lounge next to it was open, and Kevin walked in, Penelope following. There was a phone on a battered table in front of an old sofa, and they hurried over to it.
Kevin picked it up, put it to his ear. His expression said everything.
It was dead.
He jiggled the dial tone button, then dropped the receiver disgustedly into the cradle.
"Shit," he said.
Were all the phones in the city dead, or only the ones in the school?
Penelope didn't know, but she did know that she had to go outside and find out for herself. If telephone service had been cut off, then they'd have to try to find someone to help them, or get a car themselves and drive out of the valley.
Kevin had obviously been thinking along the same lines. "The phones are down," he said. "But maybe it's only the school. I'll go out and see if I can find a phone that works."
"No, you won't."
He blinked. "What?"
"You can't go out there. They'll kill you. I'D go."
He glared at her. "The fuck you will."
"The fuck I won't."
"Oh, you're going to go traipsing around the city to save us? What do you expect me to do? Sit in here all day?"
"Yes."
"Shit!" He kicked the table, and it flew onto its side with a loud crash. He hurried to pick it up, instantly realizing his mistake, hoping no one had heard the sound.
"Look," she said, "just calm down. You're going to have to lay low for a while. I'll go out there and try to find a phone or someone who can help us--"
"You won't go out there and do anything."
"They won't hurt me."
"Who?"
"My mothers."
"What about Dion?"
"I'll deal with him if I see him."
"You'll be easier to spot in the daytime."
"They want me to join them. They won't harm me. You're nobody. They don't care what happens to you. They'd toss you to the wolves in a second."
Kevin was silent for a moment. He nodded. "You're right," he said. "I
may be an asshole, but I'm not a moron." He looked toward the blurred glass window at the far end of the staff lounge. "So where are you going to go? You can't go to the police station. We already know the cops won't help."
"Fire stations, churches ... I don't know. I'll find somebody. If not, I'll steal a car."
Kevin nodded excitedly. "Yeah. A car. That's what we need to do. Get a car and get the hell out of here." He thought for a moment. "You need a weapon, though. Something you can use if you get attacked."
"If I get attacked, there probably won't be a whole lot I can--"
"You're not going out alone without something."
She heard the seriousness in his voice, understood me sense of what he was saying, and nodded. "We'll both get weapons."
"That's the idea."
She followed him down the hallway. If this had been a movie, she thought, he would have taken her hand. It would have been the first hint that xomance would eventually bloom between them. But they had not touched, had not come anywhere close to touching, and for that she was grateful. All those fictional depictions of two people thrown together by circumstance in the midst of a great disaster and finding accelerated love had always seemed like a load of bull to her, and she was glad to I cover that she had been right.
So why was she thinking about it?
Inside the custodial office, they found everything the needed and more:
hammers, screwdrivers, shovels, rake litter spears, hedge clippers, scissors. Penelope chose long Phillip's screwdriver and a pair of scissors, both which she tucked into the waistband of her pants.
"Be careful how you bend," Kevin said, grinning.
"Thanks."
Kevin grabbed several screwdrivers, a hammer, clippers, and a litter spear.
"If Rambo was a gardener ..." Penelope said.
Kevin laughed.
That was a good sign, she thought. They could still laugh about the situation. They could still joke. That gavel her confidence. The fact that they were able to retain theirf sense of humor despite the situation made it all seem a; little less ominous. Humor somehow erected a barrier be-y tween themselves and the horrors and served to keep everything else at bay.
"Do you have a watch?" Kevin asked.
Penelope shook her head.
"Here, take mine." He unfastened the band at his wristf and handed his watch to her. "Since we don't havisj walkie-talkies or anything and can't keep in contact wit&fj each other, we need to set up a specific time for you to| meet me back here. If you're not back by that time, I'll! know something's wrong and I'll come after you."
Penelope nodded as she fastened the watch to her wrist."
"What time is it now?"
She looked. "Seven-twenty. I'll be back by nine."
"Okay."
They walked back down the hall, toward the front entrance.
When they reached the front door, they stopped, looked at each other.
"Be careful," Kevin said.
"I will."
Penelope took a deep breath, opened the door, and peered out. The air was cold, punctuated with a slight chill breeze. From north of town, from the direction of the wineries, she could hear the faint sounds of screaming, cheering. This far away, it sounded almost benign, like people having a party.
She looked to the left and then to the right, making sure there was no one around. The coast was clear, and without looking back at Kevin, she ran across the parking lot to the street. She heard the door shut behind her.
She reached the sidewalk. Now she could see some of the damage that had not been visible from the classroom. Up the street, a pickup was overturned and still burning, two bodies discarded on the asphalt next to it like limp rag dolls. Beyond that she saw movement. A small group of obviously armed, obviously intoxicated people prowling the neighborhood. Half of them were naked. They moved on, heading down another street, but another group crossed an intersection farther up, and she knew she'd probably run into others. She glanced around. Under a tree on the easement was an unbroken wine bottle, still a third full, and she quickly ran over and dumped the contents on her head and shoulders, rubbing the wine into her hair and skin so she would smell as though she was drunk, as though she was one of them. She opened her blouse, exposing a breast.