Only yesterday, life had seemed so simple. So perfect. She hadn’t doubted her standing with the group in the least bit and spending the rest of her life in this subterranean hideout had been a foregone conclusion. She’d grow old with these people, would watch Pebble and Baby grow into adults, and deal with any type of fallout that might come when Gauge finally realized his feelings were stronger for Ocean than they were for Levi. Corduroy had been an irritation… someone who she definitely didn’t trust on an instinctual level, but she hadn’t really thought he was dangerous. That he was capable of—
“—and potatoes for breakfast. Should turn out pretty good with the wild onions Cord brought back yesterday.”
Ocean watched as Levi took the pot and carried it to the hole in the wall that served as their hearth. Since they weren’t baking or frying anything this morning, the large metal box with the folding door had been dragged out of the fireplace and set to the side. Entirely focused on the pot, Levi’s shin banged against the blackened, make-shift stove and she cursed as water splashed over the sides. The drops bubbled and hissed on the hot bricks and the older woman glared at the container as if it were to blame for her misfortune. Still grumbling, she slipped the handle of the pot onto the tripod, then pushed the entire contraption backward so that the pot hung directly over the licking flames.
Gauge was laughing at Levi’s scowl and he put his hand on Ocean’s shoulder as he winked at the young girl.
“What do you think, honey? Think clumsy Levi there would last a couple months topside?”
Levi repeated the same gesture that Ocean had given to Corduroy and the woman’s eyes narrowed playfully.
“Seems to me, there was a time when Mr. Patterson was a bit clumsy as well.”
Though her words were delivered in a light singsong, the smile disappeared from Gauge’s face as quickly as the smoke from the fire curled into the broken pipe that served as a chimney. His grip on Ocean’s shoulder tightened and she felt his body stiffen in response to the words.
“Not funny, Levi.”
Gauge’s voice was as cold as his stare and, despite the emotional turmoil that still raged within her, Ocean’s curiosity was so great that she had to ask.
“Who’s Mr. Patterson?”
Though he answered her question, Gauge’s eyes never strayed far from Levi.
“Nobody. Mr. Patterson is dead. He died a long, long time ago.”
To Ocean, the tension in the room was nearly as thick as the pungent aroma of the wild onions. Levi, however, seemed oblivious to the change that had come over Gauge. She continued speaking with a wry smile and sparkling eyes, her voice lilting with mock admonishment.
“Nobody? Don’t let him fool you, Ocean. Mr. Patterson is a great man… and if he tries really hard, some day he might even become a good man.”
For some reason, this statement caused Levi to giggle but Gauge was clearly not amused. His grip on Ocean’s shoulder was so tight now that it felt as if her bones were grinding against one another. Part of her wanted to twist away from the pain that radiated through her neck and back, but another, stronger part was afraid to remind him that she was even still in the room.
That part remembered the sharp sting of his hand lashing out in anger, the rage that had burned in his eyes so fiercely that it could have instantly evaporated all of the water in the now boiling pot.
“That’s enough, Levi.”
“Mr. Patterson is—”
“I said that’s enough!”
Gauge’s voice rolled through the kitchen like a clap of underground thunder, it’s echoes fleeing through the tunnels outside, as if afraid that the darkness that overtook the man might be turned on them next.
Levi’s jaw dropped open and she stared at Gauge like a woman who’d just seen a flying rotter. She blinked several times before placing her hands on her hips and cocking her head to the side.
“For God’s sake, Gauge… lighten the fuck up, why don’t you? I was just playing.”
“Well, maybe you should just leave the damn playing to Pebble, you ever think about that?”
The couple’s eyes were locked together, neither one willing to be the first to look away. Out of the corner of her own eye, Ocean saw Corduroy lumber into the doorway. He’d been drawn in, no doubt, by Gauge’s shout, but his eye didn’t look at either Levi or Gauge. Instead, it stared directly at Ocean from beneath a heavy brow. Though he remained completely silent, a clear message was delivered in both his posture and expression: don’t you say a word, not a damn word. Not if you know what’s good for you.
Ocean tried to look away, but Corduroy’s presence almost seemed to demand her attention. She wasn’t able to stare him directly in the eye as Levi was doing with Gauge but, at the same time, she felt compelled to sneak quick peaks in his general direction.
“Fuck you, Gauge… I don’t need this shit.”
The water in the pot boiled so rapidly that the entire thing swayed back and forth on its tripod. From the nursery, Ocean could hear Baby’s thin wail. Usually, that would have been enough to send her rushing to the infant’s side, but on this particular morning, the child’s cries didn’t elicit the same surge of nervous panic that it normally did. Instead, Ocean remained trapped between Gauge’s painful grip and Corduroy’s hard stare, positive that Baby would be safer in the other room than he would be in the kitchen.
“Maybe you should try a little gratitude once in a while, bitch.” Gauge spat the words from his mouth as if they were saturated in bitter venom that needed expelled.
No one else said a word. No one moved.
But, in the back of Ocean’s mind, a small voice whispered. It wasn’t the same voice that used to accompany her thoughts and make her doubt her sanity. No, that voice hadn’t been present since the first night underground. This, she quickly realized, was her own voice, and the message it delivered left no room for argument. Tell them about Corduroy.
Tell them now.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
‘So I’m standin’ in front of the Dollar Bonanza, lookin’ at this human shaped shadow that’s creeping across the floor toward me, and feeling like I’m about to piss my pants. Every muscle in my body wants to just keep moving without even lookin’ up. Just keep on truckin’, go out the Harrison Street entrance, circle the block, and make my way back to the car.
Because, on some level, I don’t feel like I’m ready for this, ya know? Hell, I haven’t even got the gun from Steel yet, the closest thing I’ve got to a weapon is this little pen knife I use to scrape the resin outta my bowl. How far do you think something like that is going to go into the brain? Far enough to drop an undead son of a bitch? Fuck no, man. It was like I showed up for my first day of lion training class in a suit made of gazelle meat.
On the other hand, if my fears were warranted, if this dark shadow really did belong to one of Ocean’s rotters, then wasn’t I screwed no matter what? I mean, I’ve seen these things, man. They’re fuckin’ savage. No morals, no conscience, no regrets or squeamishness; they’re the perfect killing machines, driven by the primal desire to feed, to hunt. Killing is just this thing that they do, right? As natural to them as breathin’ is to us. So if you have any hopes of keepin’ your ass alive in an undead world, you hafta devolve to their level. No hesitation. No doubt. Just that ingrained instinct to survive.
So I braced myself and slowly raised my eyes.
First thing I saw was a pair of scuffed, pink sneakers, shoe laces tied so loosely that it seemed the dirt stains on ‘em might be the only thing keeping the bow together. There was a cat-shaped logo on the tongue, so faded that it looked more like the leaves at the bottom of a teacup when you’re scrying.