Astray (Gated Sequel)

by Amy Christine Parker

Will rolls his eyes. “Like we really need another one of those. I think I’m gonna puke if one more person offers to dissect my feelings.” He punctuates the last two words with air quotes and I laugh softly, but it’s more from relief than from what he’s just said. He’s still talking to me, thank God. I need him. I don’t want him to ignore me like the others are. I’m not sure I could stand it.

  Mrs. Ward walks over to the table closest to her and sits on top of it. She puts her feet up on the chair in front of her and leans back on her hands. The pose makes her look younger. She’s wearing a pair of combat boots and her hair is short and spiky. I’m not sure if I think it’s cool or if she just looks weird. She smiles at us. It’s a slow, easy smile. I decide that I like her, at least more than I like Principal Geddy.

  “This day is a big step. And it isn’t the first one you’ve had to take the last few months. Your world’s grown bigger and that can be terrifying and unsettling, but you aren’t alone. We’re here for you. To listen. To offer support when you need it. I hope that after we get to know each other a little bit, you will feel comfortable approaching me. My goal is to help you have the smoothest transition possible into our school.” She hesitates and looks at each of us. “You should feel safe here. You are safe here.”

  This last bit gives me a chill. It reminds me of something Pioneer would say and I look around to see if anyone else recognizes it. But the others aren’t even looking in her direction. Their eyes—every last person’s—are on their tables. Even their hands are in the same position, clasped together in their laps. It’s like someone ordered them to assume the same posture. Even Will. Maybe someone has. I try to get Will’s attention.

  “What are you …,” I start to whisper, but Mrs. Ward looks over at me and I stop. Will’s eyes cut over to mine for a moment before he refocuses on the table.

  Mrs. Ward stops talking. Her lips press together as she notices that no one will look at her. The room goes deadly quiet, but still no one looks up. Her eyes meet mine and I shrug my shoulders.

  Principal Geddy finally steps forward and clears his throat. “Okay …,” he begins, but before he can get another word out, a loud buzzing sound rips through the air and these small rectangular lights on the wall by the door start flashing. The noise is so loud, so frantic. It feels as if it’s cutting right through my chest. It sounds a lot like the alarm siren at Mandrodage Meadows.

  Too much like it.

  For a few seconds no one moves, and then the room erupts into chaos. The kids start screaming and the adults begin yelling a whole lot of words, but no one can really make them out above all of the noise. Heather and Julie and most of the other girls have left their seats and are herded together in a tight circle. Their hands are up around their ears. Their mouths are wide open. Their screaming is almost as loud as the alarms. Brian and some of the other boys have rushed over to them, knocking their chairs over in the process.

  “Please, everyone! Calm down!” Mrs. Ward yells through cupped hands, but no one pays any attention. She shares a look with Principal Geddy. He rushes from the room and out into the hall, his face bright red and his chest heaving.

  Mrs. Ward’s eyes land on me again. I’m the only one who isn’t screaming or huddling. Still, my heart is slamming against my chest. I want to be able to move, but I can’t. Suddenly Mrs. Ward is next to me with her arms on my shoulders, trying to get me to look at her.

  “This is nothing to be scared of. It’s just the fire alarm. I’m sure it went off by mistake.” She pulls me along, grabbing the other girls as she goes. Then she moves all of us toward the library’s door.

  Principal Geddy runs back into the room, his face beaded with sweat. “The fire alarm has been tripped but there’s no fire. Please, you have to calm down!” He flaps his arms at his sides a few times like a chubby, khaki-clad bird. A bubble of laughter finds its way to my mouth and then pops out of me, startling not only me, but Mrs. Ward as well. My heart’s still hammering, but the laughter has loosened my limbs and brought me back to myself a little. Another false alarm. We aren’t in any danger. But these people won’t be able to convince the rest of the kids. I have to do it or pretty soon they’ll all run screaming from the school. I shake free of Mrs. Ward’s grip and climb on top of the nearest table before I can rethink it.

  “Shut up, you guys, and listen!” I yell as loudly as I can. The room gets quieter almost immediately. I take a deep breath and keep going before I lose my nerve. “It’s a false alarm. A practice, you know, like we used to have.” In that moment, I have the strangest feeling that I’m back in Mandrodage Meadows, just outside the Silo door all over again.

  The alarm keeps a steady rhythm as I stare out at them and they stare up at me. Finally a few of the girls loosen their grip on one another. Their faces are ashen, but they’re no longer panicking.

  Principal Geddy takes over once he sees that I’m not going to say anything more. “We still have to evacuate the building just in case, but there is no fire. This is not an emergency. If you’ll line up behind Mrs. Ward, we’ll head outside to join the rest of the students and teachers. Once we’ve double-checked the school, you’ll be able to come back in.”

  We file back out the double doors we entered just an hour ago and out into the cold. We left without our coats and almost immediately we start shivering and huddling together to stay warm. Principal Geddy leads us out to a wide field just beyond the parking lot where there’s a crowd of other students milling around. Most stare as we round the corner of the building, all of us in one long row, walking so close to one another that we’re having a hard time not tripping over each other’s feet.

  “It’s the apocalypse. Take cover!” some boy wails dramatically, before he crouches behind the kid in front of him in mock panic. The students around him lapse into hysterics.

  “Got room for us in your shelter?” someone else calls out. More laughter follows.

  Will stiffens in front of me. I can see his hands ball up into fists.

  My cheeks start to burn. I search the field for Cody, but I can’t find him. There are so many students. Hundreds gathered into loose rows. I’ve never seen so many kids in one place.

  Once we’re halfway across the field, I spot Taylor. Her eyes meet mine, but just as I’m about to wave at her, she turns in the opposite direction. I’m sure that she saw me, but it looks as if she wants me to think she didn’t. She’s embarrassed by me. From then on I don’t look up anymore. I’m scared that I’ll see Cody next and that he’ll do the same thing.

  “Freaks!” someone yells out of nowhere. It’s like they have to keep reminding us that we’re not welcome in case somehow we forgot in between this comment and the last one.

  “That’s enough!” a man shivering in a sweatshirt with a whistle around his neck barks.

  The crowd settles a little. There are only a series of murmurs behind cupped hands. But then there’s a sound above us, a plane flying directly overhead. I tilt my face up to watch it; so do Will and a few of the others. It beats looking at the other students.

  “That’s a play-ane,” a boy across from us says loudly and much too slow. He laughs and looks at the boys next to him. “Ha! They probably thought it was their aliens finally coming to pick them up.”

  He’s talking about the Brethren, our creators and the ones who told Pioneer that the end was coming in the first place. I hate that these kids think that our belief in the Brethren makes us stupid somehow. It bothers me. A lot. And I’m not the only one. Brian breaks free of our group and heads straight for him. The boy and his friends laugh harder. Brian is primed for a fight, I can tell. If we were back home, I’m pretty sure he’d have his gun out.

  “Knock it off!” Principal Geddy hollers. The man with the whistle steps between Brian and the other boy. He pulls the boy away, practically drags him up to where Principal Geddy’s standing. The boy puts his hands in his pockets and looks out at the crowd. Winks. I see Will take a step forward beside me and I put my hand on his arm to kee
p him from charging too.

  “Brent Dickerson. You’ve just earned yourself a detention this afternoon.” Principal Geddy stares the boy down.

  “You really want to do that right now, considering how ticked my mom is already?” Brent asks, smirking.

  Principal Geddy looks like he’s ready to strangle him. His jaw is clenched so hard that the cords on his neck are sticking out. There’s one long moment of awkward silence. Brent lazily stretches his neck from side to side. I can hear it cracking.

  “Mr. Stevenson, take Brent to the office as soon as the building’s clear,” Principal Geddy yells. His face is so red, I’m afraid he might explode.

  Mr. Stevenson starts pulling Brent away. The boys from Brent’s group stare at us. One in particular catches my eye. He’s standing in the group’s center and he’s looking at Brian like he’s daring him to lose it.

  “How’s your first day?” he asks Brian just loud enough for most of us to hear him, but not Principal Geddy or the other adults who are all standing in a clump by the sidewalk talking in low voices.

  I feel an overwhelming fury. This guy pulled the alarm. I can’t prove it, but that sneer on his face … I feel like this is the truth. I just know it. I want to punch his squared-off face and that stupid cocky grin of his. How can he think it’s funny to scare us like this?

  Pioneer’s words start to echo in my head. “The world is a wicked place, full of people who want nothing more than to cause you pain. Now I ask you folks, what good can it do to rub shoulders with them? No good, that’s what. They’ll get in your head and twist all that’s right in you until you are just like they are. Better to stay far, far away. You have to protect yourselves.”

  I start to shiver and I’m not sure if it’s my rage or the cold and my lack of a coat that’s causing it, but I can’t make it stop. Will rests both of his hands on my shoulders. He’s shivering too.

  I want this day to be over. I fold my arms across my chest as the bitter air stings my face and hands. I stare out at the crowd and then look beyond them, to the woods out past the fence, trying to distract myself by focusing on the trees. I won’t lose control and cry. Not now. Not ever. I bite my lip hard, hoping that the pain will keep the tears pooling in my eyes from overflowing. Keep it together, Lyla.

  While I struggle to stay calm, a movement in the woods catches my eye. A shadowy figure is moving between the trees, coming closer to the fence. Then there’s another and another. I’m pretty sure that it’s a herd of deer or something at first, but then they get closer and I can see that they aren’t deer at all, they’re people. Mr. Brown and several other men from the Community step out into the open space between the fence and the trees. They’re staring in our direction. My direction. Reflexively, I back up. The men put their hands up to the fence and lace their fingers through it. Mr. Brown nods at me. They could be here to check on the others. I silently will them to be, anyway, but the way that my heart is racing and my instincts are singing makes me doubt it. I look at the teachers and other students to see if anyone else has noticed them, but most are too busy talking and stealing glances in our direction. I turn to Will, to see if he’s seen, but he is head-to-head with Brian, trying to keep him from charging the boys across from us.

  But behind Will and Brian, Heather and Julie are staring at me. Very deliberately they turn and look at Mr. Brown and the others and then back at me. The girls’ grins widen and their eyes shine. They press their lips together and start to hum. The tune is unmistakable. It’s the one they were all singing at the hospital. My head supplies the words even if they aren’t actually being sung.

  Come back to the fold. Come back to the fold.

  There’s not much time before your body goes cold.

  The end is here, and he wants his sheep home.

  There’s no safe place for you to roam.

  Come back to the fold. Come back to the fold.

  There’s not much time before your body goes cold.

  I want to scream, to get the attention of Principal Geddy or one of the teachers, but I can’t make myself do it with them watching me. So instead I hunch over and turn my back on the fence. Still, I can feel their stares boring into my back.

  I woke up this morning thinking that somehow this day would be a new beginning, that I would have a chance to start a new life—to finally figure out what normal is and leave the Community and Pioneer behind me. And somehow I thought that Heather and the others would let me. I’d dared to believe that the people here would be like Cody and his family, that they would make an attempt at getting to know us. It looks like I couldn’t have been more wrong.

  A person can’t change all at once.

  —Stephen King, The Stand

  SIX

  It takes almost half an hour for my body to thaw once we’re allowed back inside the school. Mrs. Ward is keeping us sequestered in the library. I’m not sure if that was her plan all along or if she decided to do it around the time we all filed back into the building, but either way, we are stuck here. I can hear the heat rumbling on and off, echoing down the vents. Even so, the room is cold.

  I blow on my fingers as Mrs. Ward settles onto the floor in the far corner of the library and motions for us to join her. The others stare at her, their arms folded across their chests. She looks so disappointed that I soften and sit down a few feet to her right. Will exhales, glances at the others, then slowly comes to sit beside me. I smile as he leans back against the bookshelf behind us.

  “Think she’ll tackle me if I make a run for it?” he asks with his eyes closed.

  “Hey, you’re not allowed to leave me alone here,” I say, and lightly squeeze his arm.

  Will opens his eyes and looks at me, his face more serious than I was expecting. “I’d never leave you alone anywhere.”

  This doesn’t comfort me, especially after seeing Mr. Brown and the others at the fence.

  “You guys don’t have to sit with me if you don’t want to, but we’ll be in here for a while yet.…” Mrs. Ward tries one more time, smiling encouragingly at the others. I focus my attention on her and not Will. Honestly, I’m grateful for the interruption.

  Heather and Julie look at each other and then reluctantly find a spot across from us. Brian and a few of the other boys remain standing. The rest of the kids shuffle over and sit down close to Heather and Julie, leaving a wide space between them and Mrs. Ward. She fiddles with one of her bootlaces, then tucks her legs up to her chest. I’m not sure if she’s doing it on purpose, but her posture makes her look small, nonthreatening. It’s hard to see her as evil—the way Pioneer wants us to see all Outsiders. Maybe that’s what she wants.

  “I’m sorry that we got off to such a rocky start this morning. I’d like to promise you that what happened out there won’t happen again, but I can’t. I wish I could tell you that everything that your Pioneer told you about people being cruel was wrong. But I can’t do that either. The truth is that everyone has the potential to be good or bad.”

  “We aren’t here to listen to you give us a lecture on people being good or bad. We’ve seen firsthand what Outsiders can do,” Brian interrupts. His voice has such a hard edge to it. “There isn’t anything that you can say to make us see you different. You’re all evil. What happened out there just proves it.”

  Mrs. Ward gives him a look that’s all pity and understanding, and I watch Brian bristle under it. She doesn’t reach out to him, but I can tell that she wants to. Instead she rearranges herself until she’s sitting cross-legged. “I’m not trying to take your beliefs away from you. Really. All I’m asking is that you consider why you believe them.” Her eyes rest on me. “Questions aren’t bad, in fact they’re necessary when you’re trying to figure out just exactly what you stand for.”

  Brian shakes his head and Heather and Julie grab each other’s hands and hold tight. I watch as the hand-holding catches on. In less than a minute everyone is holding hands, one long chain of defiance. Will offers his hand to me and I don’t know wha
t to do. Mrs. Ward is watching me intensely. I feel like whatever I choose to do means something—means too much. The thing is, I think I agree with Mrs. Ward, but I’ve isolated myself from the Community so much already. Does it make sense to do it now, especially after what happened outside?

  I reach out and take Will’s hand. Mrs. Ward sighs and then opens her mouth to say something more, but doesn’t get the chance because the library door opens up and an older lady rushes in with a clipboard.

  “Lunch,” she says. She’s a sturdy lady with rough hands and a ruddy face. Her hair is pulled up under a hairnet. “Principal Geddy said it would be better if the kids ate in here.” She eyeballs us. “But just this once. I can’t be expected to pull together a special lunch for this lot every day and still get the rest of the school fed.” The irritation and outright revulsion in her voice as she talks about us startles me even after everything that’s happened. She gives Mrs. Ward a stern look. “I won’t be responsible for any mess that’s made. I’ll send one of our ladies back in half an hour to collect what’s left.”

  “Thank you, Marianne, we’ll do our best to be tidy.” Mrs. Ward smiles patiently at her. Even though she’s got a nice smile and a kind face, it doesn’t soften Marianne any. I wonder if it’s starting to bug Mrs. Ward that no one’s responding the way she wants them to.

  A cart is rolled in by another cranky-looking lady in a hairnet. It’s piled high with plastic-wrapped sandwiches, bottled water, and apples. Mrs. Ward asks Julie and Will to pass it all out, and soon we’re settled back down on the floor, our backs leaning up against the bookshelves, our meals in our laps. I’m not sure why we don’t sit at the tables. Mrs. Ward just seems to prefer the floor, I guess. She stretches out her legs across the aisle until her boots are resting close to my sneakers. She’s watching me and chewing her sandwich slowly. She blushes when she realizes that I’ve caught her studying me. Every move I make is being dissected now, not just by her, but by everyone, even me. It ruins my appetite, so I put my food aside, stand up, and start walking along the rows of books.