Someone Comes to Town, Someone Leaves Town

by Cory Doctorow

mysticallyinclined people would like to believe.

  Arnold didn't like this moment of disclosure, didn't like dropping hiscarefully cultivated habit of hiding this, but he also couldn't help butfeel relieved. A part of his mind nagged him, though, and told him thattoo much of this would waken the worry for his brothers from itsnarcotized slumber.

  "I've told other people, just a few. They didn't believe me. You don'thave to. Why don't you think about it for a while?"

  "What are you going to do?"

  "I'm going to try to figure out how to find my brothers. I can't gounderground like Davey can. I don't think I can, anyway. I neverhave. But Davey's so... *broken*... so small and twisted. He's notsmart, but he's cunning and he's determined. I'm smarter than he is. SoI'll try to find the smart way. I'll think about it, too."

  "Well, I've got to get ready to go diving," Kurt said. He stood up witha jangle. "Thanks for the iced tea, Adam."

  "It was nice to meet you, Kurt," Alan said, and shook his hand.

  #

  Alan woke with something soft over his face. It was pitch dark, and hecouldn't breathe. He tried to reach up, but his arms wouldn't move. Hecouldn't sit up. Something heavy was sitting on his chest. The softthing -- a pillow? -- ground against his face, cruelly pressing down onthe cartilage in his nose, filling his mouth as he gasped for air.

  He shuddered hard, and felt something give near his right wrist and thenhis arm was loose from the elbow down. He kept working the arm, hischest afire, and then he'd freed it to the shoulder, and something bithim, hard little teeth like knives, in the fleshy underside of hisbicep. Flailing dug the teeth in harder, and he knew he was bleeding,could feel it seeping down his arm. Finally, he got his hand ontosomething, a desiccated, mummified piece of flesh. Davey. Davey's ribs,like dry stones, cold and thin. He felt up higher, felt for the placewhere Davey's arm met his shoulder, and then twisted as hard as hecould, until the arm popped free in its socket. He shook his headviolently and the pillow slid away.

  The room was still dark, and the hot, moist air rushed into his nostrilsand mouth as he gasped it in. He heard Davey moving in the dark, and ashis eyes adjusted, he saw him unfolding a knife. It was a clasp knifewith a broken hasp and it swung open with the sound of a cockroach'sshell crunching underfoot. The blade was rusty.

  Alan flung his freed arm across his body and tried to tug himselfloose. He was being held down by his own sheets, which had been tackedor stapled to the bed frame. Using all his strength, he rolled over,heaving and bucking, and felt/heard the staples popping free down oneside of the bed, just as Davey slashed at where his face had been amoment before. The knife whistled past his ear, then scored deeply alonghis shoulder. His arm flopped uselessly at his side and now they wereboth fighting one-armed, though Davey had a knife and Adam was wrappedin a sheet.

  His bedroom was singularly lacking in anything that could be improvisedinto a weapon -- he considered trying getting a heavy encyclopedia outto use as a shield, but it was too far a distance and too long a shot.

  He scooted back on the bed, trying to untangle the sheet, which wasstill secured at the foot of the bed and all along one side. He freedhis good arm just as Davey slashed at him again, aiming for the meat ofhis thigh, the big arteries there that could bleed you out in a minuteor two. He grabbed for Davey's shoulder and caught it for an instant,squeezed and twisted, but then the skin he had hold of sloughed away andDavey was free, dancing back.

  Then he heard, from downstairs, the sound of rhythmic pounding at thedoor. He'd been hearing it for some time, but hadn't registered it untilnow. A muffled yell from below. Police? Mimi? He screamed out, "Help!"hoping his voice would carry through the door.

  Apparently, it did. He heard the sound of the small glass pane over thedoorknob shatter, and Davey turned his head to look in the direction ofthe sound. Alan snatched up the pillow that he'd been smothering underand swung it as hard as he could at Davey's head, knocking him around,and the door was open now, the summer night air sweeping up the stairsto the second-floor bedroom.

  "Alan?" It was Kurt.

  "Kurt, up here, he's got a knife!"

  Boots on the stairs, and Davey standing again, cornered, with the knife,slashing at the air toward him and toward the bedroom door, toward thelight coming up the stairs, bobbing, Kurt's maglight, clenched in histeeth, and Davey bolted for the door with the knife held high. The lightstopped moving and there was an instant's tableau, Davey caught in thelight, cracked black lips peeled back from sharp teeth, chest heaving,knife bobbing, and then Alan was free, diving for his knees, bringinghim down.

  Kurt was on them before Davey could struggle up to his good elbow,kicking the knife away, scattering fingerbones like dice.

  Davey screeched like a rusty hinge as Kurt twisted his arms up behindhis back and Alan took hold of his ankles. He thrashed like a raccoon ina trap, and Alan forced the back of his head down so that his face wasmashed against the cool floor, muffling his cries.

  Kurt shifted so that his knee and one hand were pinning Davey's wrists,fished in his pockets, and came out with a bundle of hairy twine. He setit on the floor next to Alan and then shifted his grip back to Davey'sarms.

  As soon as Alan released the back of Davey's head, he jerked it up andsnapped his teeth into the top of Kurt's calf, just above the top of hishigh, chain-draped boot. Kurt hollered and Adam reached out and took theknife, moving quickly before he could think, and smashed the butt intoDavey's jaw, which cracked audibly. Davey let go of Kurt's calf and Alanworked quickly to lash his feet together, using half the bundle oftwine, heedless of how he cut into the thin, cracking skin. He used theknife to snip the string and then handed the roll to Kurt, who went towork on Danny's wrists.

  Alan got the lights and rolled his brother over, looked into his madeyes. Dale was trying to scream, but with his jaw hanging limp and histeeth scattered, it came out in a rasp. Alan stood and found that he wasnaked, his shoulder and bicep dripping blood down his side into a poolon the polished floor.

  "We'll take him to the basement," he told Kurt, and dug through thelaundry hamper at the foot of the bed for jeans. He found a couple ofpairs of boxer shorts and tied one around his bicep and the other aroundhis shoulder, using his teeth and chin as a second hand. It took twotries before he had them bound tight enough to still the throb.

  The bedroom looked like someone had butchered an animal in it, and thefloor was gritty with Darrel's leavings, teeth and nails andfingerbones. Picking his way carefully through the mess, he hauled thesheet off the bed, popping out the remaining staples, which pinged offthe bookcases and danced on the polished wood of the floor. He folded itdouble and laid it on the floor next to Davey.

  "Help me roll him onto it," he said, and then saw that Kurt was staringdown at his shriveled, squirming, hateful brother in horror, wiping hishands over and over again on the thighs of his jeans.

  He looked up and his eyes were glazed and wide. "I was passing by and Isaw the shadows in the window. I thought you were being attacked --" Hehugged himself.

  "I was," Alan said. He dug another T-shirt out of his hamper. "Here,wrap this around your hands."

  They rolled Davey into the sheet and then wrapped him in it. He wassurprisingly heavy, dense. Hefting his end of the sheet one-handed,hefting that mysterious weight, he remembered picking up Ed-Fred-Geoffin the cave that first day, remembered the weight of thebrother-in-the-brother-in-the-brother, and he had a sudden sickeningsense that perhaps Davey was so heavy because he'd eaten them.

  Once they had him bound snugly in the sheet, Danny stopped thrashing andbecame very still. They carried him carefully down the dark stairs, thewalnut-shell grit echoing the feel of teeth and flakes of skin on thebare soles of Alan's feet.

  They dumped him unceremoniously on the cool mosaic of tile on thefloor. They stared at the unmoving bundle for a moment. "Wait here, I'mgoing to get a chair," Alan said.

  "Jesus, don't leave me alone here," Kurt said. "That kid, the one whosaw him -- take -- your brother? No
one's seen him since." He lookeddown at Davey with wide, crazed eyes.

  Alan's shoulder throbbed. "All right," he said. "You get a chair fromthe kitchen, the captain's chair in the corner with the newspaperrecycling stacked on it."

  While Kurt was upstairs, Alan unwrapped his brother. Danny's eyes wereclosed, his jaw hanging askew, his wrists bound behind him. Alan leanedcarefully over him and took his jaw and rotated it gently until itpopped back into place.

  "Davey?" he said. The eyes were closed, but now there was anattentiveness, an alertness to him. Alan stepped back quickly, feelingfoolish at his fear of this pathetic, disjointed bound thing on hisfloor. No two ways about it, though: Davey