The fact is, Lev hadn’t just turned them in, he had turned himself in as well.
Which means that Lev is probably gone. Unwound into nothing—his bones, his flesh, his mind, shredded and recycled. This is what Connor finds so hard to accept. Connor had risked his life to save Lev, just as Connor had done for the baby on the doorstep. Well, the baby had been saved, but Lev had not, and although he knows he can’t be held responsible for Lev’s unwinding, he feels as if it is his fault. So he stands there with secret anticipation each time there’s a group of new arrivals, hoping beyond hope he’ll find that self-righteous, self-important, pain-in-the-ass Lev still alive.
24. Risa
The Fatigues arrive with Christmas dinner an hour late. It’s the same old slop, but the Fatigues wear Santa hats. Impatience rules the evening. Everyone’s so hungry, they crowd noisily around, like it’s a food delivery in a famine, and to make it worse, there are only two Fatigues there tonight to serve the meal instead of the usual four.
“Single line! Single line!” yell the Fatigues. “There’s enough for everybody. Ho, ho, ho.” But tonight it’s not a matter of getting enough, it’s a matter of getting it now.
Risa’s just as hungry as the others, but she also knows that meals are the best time to have some privacy in the bathroom, without someone bursting in through the unlocked door or simply pounding repeatedly to get you out faster.
Tonight, with everyone clamoring for their holiday hash, there’s no one at the bathroom at all, so, putting her hunger on hold, she moves away from the crowd and across the warehouse toward the bathroom.
Once inside she hangs the makeshift OCCUPIED sign on the door knob, and pushes the door closed. She takes a moment to examine herself in the mirror, but she doesn’t like the straggly-haired, ragged girl she’s become, so she doesn’t look at herself for long. She washes her face and, since there are no towels, dries it with her sleeve. Then, before she even turns for the toilet, she hears the door creak open behind her.
She turns and must stifle a gasp. It’s Roland who has entered the bathroom.
And now he closes the door gently behind him. Risa immediately realizes her mistake. She should never have come here alone.
“Get out!” she says. She wishes she could sound more forceful in the moment, but he’s caught her by surprise.
“No need to be so harsh.” Roland moves toward her in a slow, predatory stride. “We’re all friends here, right? And since everyone’s eating dinner, we’ve got some quality time to get to know each other.”
“Stay away from me!” Now she’s scanning her options, but realizes in this tight a space, with only one door, and nothing she can use as a weapon, her options are limited.
Now he’s dangerously close. “Sometimes I like having dessert before dinner. How about you?”
The second he’s in range, she acts quickly to hit him, to knee him, to inflict any kind of pain that would distract him enough for her to fly out the door. His reflexes are simply too fast. He grabs her hands, pushes her back against the cold green tile wall, and presses his hip against her so that her knee can’t reach its mark. And he grins, as if it was all so easy. His hand is on her cheek now. The shark tattooed on his forearm is inches away, and seems ready to attack.
“So, whaddaya say we have some fun and make sure you don’t get unwound for nine months?”
Risa has never been a screamer. The way she always saw it, screaming was a show of weakness. A sign of defeat. Now she has to admit defeat, for although she has lots of experience warding off creeps, Roland has even more experience being one.
So she screams. She lets loose a bloodcurdler at the top of her lungs. But her timing is as bad as it could possibly be, because just then a jet roars by overhead, shaking the walls and completely swallowing her scream.
“Ya gotta learn to enjoy life,” Roland says. “Let’s call this lesson one.”
That’s when the door swings open, and over Roland’s massive shoulder Risa sees Connor standing at the threshold, eyes blazing. She’s never been happier to see anyone.
“Connor! Stop him!”
Roland sees him too, catching his reflection in the bathroom mirror, but he doesn’t release Risa.
“Well,” says Roland. “Isn’t this awkward.”
Connor makes no move to tear him away. He just stands there on the threshold. His eyes still rage, but his hands—they’re not even clenched into fists.
They just hang there limply by his side. What’s wrong with him?
Roland winks at Risa, then he calls over his shoulder to Connor. “Better get out if you know what’s good for you.”
Connor steps over the threshold, but he doesn’t move toward them. Instead he goes to the sink. “Mind if I wash up for dinner?”
Risa waits for him to make a sharp and sudden move, catching Roland off guard, but he doesn’t. He just washes his hands.
“Your girlfriend’s had her eye on me since Sonia’s basement,” says Roland. “You know that, don’t you?”
Connor dries his hands on his pants. “You two can do whatever you like. Risa and I broke up this morning. Should I turn off the light when I leave?”
The betrayal is so unexpected, so complete, Risa doesn’t know who to hate more, Roland or Connor. But then Roland eases his grip on her. “Well, now the mood’s ruined, isn’t it.” He lets her go. “Hell, I was just kidding, anyway. I wouldn’t have done anything.” He backs away and offers that smile of his again.
“How’s about we wait until you’re ready.” Then he struts out just as boldly as he had come in, bumping Connor’s shoulder on the way out as a parting shot.
All of her confusion and frustration unleashes at Connor, and she pushes him back against the wall, shaking him. “What was that? You were just going to let him do it? You were just going to stand there and let it happen?”
Connor pushes her off of him. “Didn’t you warn me not to take the bait?”
“What?”
“He didn’t just follow you to the bathroom—he pushed past me first. He made sure I knew he was following you here. This whole thing wasn’t about you, it was about me—just like you said. He wanted me to catch him. He wanted to make me crazy, to get me fighting mad. So I didn’t take the bait.”
Risa shakes her head—not in disbelief, but reeling from the truth of it.
“But . . . but what if . . . what if he . . .”
“But he didn’t, did he? And now he won’t. Because if he thinks you and I broke up, you’re more useful to him if you’re on his side. He might still be after you, but from now on, I’ll bet he’ll be killing you with kindness.”
All the emotions rebounding madly through Risa finally come to rest in an unfamiliar place, and tears burst from her eyes. Connor steps forward to comfort her, but she pushes him away with the same force she would have used against Roland.
“Get out!” she yells. “Just get out!”
Connor throws up his hands, frustrated. “Fine. I guess I should have just gone to dinner and not come in here at all.”
He leaves and she closes the door behind him, in spite of the line of kids now waiting for the bathroom. She sits down on the floor, her back against the door so no one can get in as she tries to get her emotions under control.
Connor had done the right thing. For once, he had seen the situation more clearly than she—and he had probably ensured that Roland wouldn’t physically threaten her again, at least for a while. And yet there’s a part of her that can’t forgive him for just standing there. After all, heroes are supposed to behave in very specific ways. They’re supposed to fight, even if it means risking their lives.