Quarantine: The Saints q-2

by Lex Thomas

  Nobody moved. They didn’t shuffle. They didn’t flinch. They were solid. It made Sam feel crazy.

  “You’re all done, man,” Terry said. “Nobody wants to hear you barking anymore, and we damn sure don’t need your game plans. I’ll be giving the orders from here on out—”

  Sam had heard enough. He pointed at Terry and screamed his words.

  “What do you think this asshole’s going to do for you?” he said to the rest of Varsity. “All I’ve ever seen him do is sit on his ass and take. He hasn’t run shit since he ran the basketball team into the ground against Fairview. And lemme tell you something, leading Varsity isn’t about running a gang…,” Sam said, pointing his chin up toward the ceiling. “It’s about running a school. And that’s something you know nothing about. None of you could survive without me.”

  “We’ll take our chances,” Terry said and looked to the others. “We got nothin’ to lose. Thanks to you. Isn’t that right?”

  “That’s right,” Anthony said. He was backed by more that’s rights and yeahs around the circle.

  “Is this about the gun incident?” Sam said. “You’re gonna give up on me just ’cause of that? You can’t be that stupid. Think of how it’ll look to everybody. Without me, they’ll know you’re weak. You’ll never get respect back—”

  “It’s not about the gun thing.” Terry laughed. Others laughed too. “This has been a long time coming.”

  “Oh, is that right?”

  Terry nodded. “Yeah, that’s right. Doubt you noticed, but no other gang leader in school talks to their people the way you do. I’d even say those leaders like the people in their gang. Do you like us, Sam?”

  Sam could feel his top lip tightening, pulling back to reveal his teeth in a sickened scowl. He wasn’t going to honor that question with a response. It was irrelevant, exactly the kind of Sesame Street crap that was going make Terry fail as a leader.

  “That’s what I thought,” Terry said. “And maybe that would’ve been okay, if you could’ve kept things going, but you lost all our food because you were too obsessed with David.”

  “That’s not what happened,” Sam said.

  “It is what happened, bro. It’s exactly what happened. And then you disappeared for two weeks when we needed you most. I don’t know what the hell you were doing. Collecting guns with no bullets, I guess.”

  Laughter bounced off every wall. It went on way too long, especially when what Terry said wasn’t funny.

  “Then, you show up again and expect us to do what you say? You think you can swim in our pool?” Terry said. “Think again.”

  Sam scowled. He’d listened. Now it was his turn. He had one last weapon.

  “So, you’re really gonna take your chances without the Pretty Ones? ’Cause I’ll tell Hilary to walk. And every one of your girls will go with her. I’ll see if maybe some other gang is looking for a little pussy infusion.” Sam turned away from Terry to face the rest of the gang. “Is that the kind of chance you boys are ready to take now? Losing your women just ’cause this guy’s got big ideas about what he thinks should happen?”

  Terry, the dumbshit, didn’t have an answer for that. And Varsity was waiting. Sam had hit them where it hurt. He smiled. They still belonged to him.

  “The Pretty Ones aren’t going anywhere.”

  The Varsity line parted for Hilary. She stood beside Terry. Close enough to touch. Too close.

  “What are you doing?” Sam said. He should’ve kept his mouth shut and stayed strong, but he couldn’t help himself. Hilary had said horrible, stupid things about how much she hated him before. But he didn’t think she’d ever pull this shit on him. Didn’t she know what he’d do to her? Did they all forget?

  “Nobody’s scared of you. Not anymore,” Hilary said. “So, just give it a rest.”

  Terry nodded at Hilary. How long had they been screwing? Sam wondered. Did Terry know that Sam had knocked her tooth out? Terry thought he had a prize, but all he had was a toothless whore. Fuck him. Fuck ’em both. He’d save that little nugget of info for the right time later, when he could make the most of it.

  “You got two choices,” Terry said. “You can fall in line, behind me, or you can leave. Finish up your swim, think about it. We’ll be upstairs, getting ready for the drop.”

  Sam was so hot with rage he thought the water around him might start to boil. He stayed perfectly still, never breaking his stare from Hilary. Her eyes had drifted down. Terry waved for the gang to leave, and they all stepped away from the pool, heading for the exit.

  “Oh, and don’t think about stirring up shit behind my back,” Terry said. “It’ll just go in one ear and then into mine. Everybody’s on board with this, Sam. And none of us like you.”

  Terry followed Varsity out. The door swung shut and clicked. Sam stood in four feet of water, alone, with nothing. He chewed on his lip, hard enough to draw blood.

  He could fix this. The slight sway of water clapped against the pool walls. Something could put everything back to normal. In McKinley, you lived and died by your reputation. If Sam was going to set things right, and take control of the school again, he had to make people forget they ever saw him fall. Only one thing worked with these animals. Danny Liner proved it. Alan Woodward backed it up. It was what Terry didn’t have in him, and today Varsity would get a reminder. The whole school would see.

  8

  WILL AND NINE OTHER LONERS PEERED AT the quad through the bent metal blinds of a first-floor classroom window. The gangs were starting to gather. They flowed in from every direction, and each gang was huge. No wonder they’d lost three Loners on the walk from the Stairs.

  “Most people don’t even think there’s a Loner left in the school,” Mort said.

  “That’s not true,” Will said.

  “I heard the Freaks have eighty-seven.”

  “Varsity’s still got a hundred guys, easy,” Ritchie said. “And they’re the biggest dudes in school.”

  “Did you see Varsity at the last drop?” Will said. “They were totally disorganized.”

  “Yeah, well, they’re not gonna make that mistake again,” Ritchie said. “Everybody’s gonna be on their A-game.”

  Belinda poked her finger through the blinds and tapped on the glass softly. “Look at the Geeks, they’ve got a ton. So do the Skaters. Even the Saints are four times our size.”

  All eyes traveled to the Saints in the quad outside. They filled the wall where the Loners used to stand. They even had the white hair. This was their first food drop, and they looked uncomfortable. It reminded Will of the early days of the Loners, when they were first learning to work together as a gang.

  “I’m just saying,” Mort said, “maybe we’re just better off being Scraps again. I mean, was it really that bad?”

  “Yes,” Will said. “It was that bad!”

  They were all looking at him now. It was time to do his speech. He’d been practicing it in his head during the whole walk to the quad. He wasn’t going to let what David built fall apart. The Loners were all that was left of David in Will’s life, and if he lost that, he’d have nothing.

  He cleared his throat and rubbed his hands together. His mouth was dry.

  “The other gangs are bigger, and the odds are against us,” Will said. “And now there’s only ten of us left. But ten is all we need. We don’t need the quitters. This is the core group, the originals. We did this once already. Nine Loners stood against a hundred Varsity and we won. We can do the impossible again.”

  The Loners seemed unmoved.

  “There’s no army of Scraps to help us this time,” Mort said.

  “And we don’t have David,” Ritchie said.

  “We could just skip this one,” Belinda said.

  “Guys,” Lucy said, “let Will finish.”

  The group hushed again. Will appreciated Lucy standing up for him, but he had nothing else planned. That was the full extent of his inspiring speech. His heart thumped in his chest. The Loners still waited f
or him to speak. This was far harder than David had made it look.

  “Listen… I’m not stupid, I know you want to join other gangs,” Will said.

  They all looked away.

  “I know we’ve had a lot of bad luck, and you all think we can’t make it without David. But it isn’t true. The Loners can go on, we can be big again. Just give me this one chance to prove to you that I can be your leader. One chance, that’s all I’m asking for. If we don’t get enough food to survive today, than you can all do whatever you want, go off and join another gang. If we fail today, then you’ll have every reason to. I wouldn’t even be mad. But that’s not what’s going to happen. We’re going to go out there, and fight like beasts, and take our share back to the Stairs.”

  They were all looking at him again.

  “Please. One chance. What do you say?”

  The forty foot block of supplies hung from the orange crane, three stories above them. They’d lower it any moment now.

  Will was filled with excitement and terror. All nine Loners stood behind him. They’d agreed. They’d put their trust in him. He couldn’t let them down.

  Will’s hand went to his belt and clasped the T-shirt-wrapped handle of a plastic shiv he’d made by sharpening a toothbrush. He held it just for comfort. Just to know it was there. The plan was they were going to run in pairs, one to grab, one to defend, and they’d focus on the little stuff, the stuff other gangs dropped or couldn’t bother with. They’d run everything to Mort, who was stationed in a first-floor classroom with a window open. He’d stockpile everything, away from the danger of the quad. Will figured all the little grabs would add up.

  Without warning, the block of food fell.

  The bound pallets crashed to the ground and burst apart, flinging food and supplies everywhere. The gangs charged the mountain of supplies in the center of the quad.

  “Go!” Will shouted.

  The Loners ran. They broke off in twos, and joined the flow of the scavenging crowd. It wasn’t safe to stand still. Will and Lucy ran side by side. The empty garbage bag Will brought with him trailed off his belt like a black snake snapping at his legs.

  “You with me?” Will said in the huff of an exhale.

  “With you,” she said. “See anything?”

  “Not yet.”

  Will’s eyes twitched across the quad. He and Lucy sped past a strangling match between a Freak and a Varsity, a plastic tub of protein powder at their feet. He whipped his head from left to right as he wove between thrashing battles. Hair colors smeared across his vision, blue, red, orange, white, black. A stocky Slut tried to trip him. He stomped on her foot. She barked in pain.

  Lucy’s scream cut through the air, eclipsing the Slut’s yowl. He snapped his head left in time to see a Skater throw Lucy to the ground. Lucy was clutching a pink and white box of sugar cubes. The Skater swiped the box out of Lucy’s hand. Before the kid could pull the box close, Will tackled him to the ground.

  Will grabbed the boy’s foot and twisted it. The kid squealed and kicked Will’s neck with his other foot. Will’s vision went sparkly for a moment. He put his hands on the box and tried to wrestle it away.

  “Mine!” the Skater shouted. That Skater was wrong.

  Will yanked and yanked at the box. He felt people kick him in the back. The Skater head-butted him in the nose. Blood poured from Will’s nostrils and splattered onto the kid’s face, like watery ketchup. The kid yelled in disgust, and more blood drizzled into his open mouth. The boy let go of the box.

  Will shoved his sweet trophy into his garbage bag and stood. His hand went to his nose and he gave it a little squeeze. It was straight, not broken. Must’ve been his lucky day. He looked to Lucy, who was on her feet and had four cans of beans in her arms.

  “Nice!” Will yelled, and wiped his bloody nose with his forearm. Lucy cracked a quick smile at him, before switching back to being on guard. Will pointed to Mort in the classroom window, and they ran to him. Will blocked for her the whole time, making sure no one got near Lucy or her beans.

  They handed the food to Mort through the window. Will peered into the classroom and saw that there was already a tub of powdered fruit punch, a family-sized box of crackers, a bag of sunflower seeds, and four Styrofoam bowls of dried ramen on the floor.

  “It’s working!” Will said to Lucy. His voice went embarrassingly high. Lucy giggled at him.

  “We’re doing it!” she said with a burst of tiny applause. He wanted to stay here in this moment forever, with Lucy proud of him, impressed with him, cheering him on. But they had to move; the mountain of food was disappearing quickly. He took her hand and led her back into the fray.

  Victorious cheers, battle cries, and screams of pain mingled in Will’s ears. He and Lucy sprinted by a crying Freak girl who whipped a length of chain at the crowd of Geeks that surrounded her. They all lunged for the 400-count pack of flushable moist wipes she had clutched against her belly.

  Will and Lucy passed a Saint who swung the butt of her rifle into a Skater’s ribs. The Skater crumbled when the gun hit his side, and the Saint stole his bag of jerky.

  “Looks like the new kids are getting the swing of things in here,” Will said. Lucy nodded with a pant.

  A few feet away, Will spotted a box of disposable lighters in the dirt, and he scooped them up. A Nerd was bending over to pick up a bottle of shampoo nearby. Lucy kicked her in the ass, and the girl fell forward on her face. Lucy grabbed the shampoo, and smiled at Will with pride. He felt a cool breeze all over his body.

  Then knuckles cracked into the back of his head.

  Will staggered forward and whipped around, pain blossoming in his skull. Sam stood opposite him, fists up in the air, lip stretched up into a snarl.

  Nausea twirled in the pit of Will’s gut. Just a flutter of it at first. Then, that flutter took shape and grew into solid a lump of sick. A cold stone in his belly. He’d known Sam might come looking for revenge—he’d mocked Sam in front of the whole school—but Will didn’t think that he would be this afraid when it happened. Sam spat on the ground and stomped forward.

  The sheet of muscles along the side of Will’s neck clenched, and bent his head over. The truth chilled his blood. He wasn’t paralyzed with fear. He was about to seize. Will tried to yell, but all that came out of his throat was a wet, grinding honk. His skin was pins and needles. He felt a cold rope of his own spittle drip across his fingers. The ground collapsed under his feet.

  Everything became white.

  Warbling laughter was the first thing Will was aware of. He opened his eyes, and the light was blinding. He saw a human shape, all out of focus, standing above him. The top of the person’s head was a blurred blob of yellow. The person’s hazy foot swung back and then kicked forward.

  Will’s balls exploded with pain. He tried to cup them with his hands and guard against another strike, but his arms flailed around like water weenies. They wouldn’t work right. Another kick, and Will retched.

  Will tried to scream at Sam to stop, but it was just noise with no enunciation. His tongue was a dead lump in his mouth. Will’s eyes sharpened gradually. He could see the drop was over. Everyone was back on the sidelines, except for him, and Sam, and the Loners trying to pull Sam off of him.

  He saw Sam knock down Leonard with an elbow to the chest. Sam shoved Mort off him like he was a paper doll. Mort got back up and came back for more punishment, throwing a crazed, ragged swing at Sam. Sam grabbed his deformed fist, mid-punch, and socked Mort in the eye with his other hand. Mort dropped to the dirt, unconscious. Ritchie limped over on a freshly twisted ankle, and Sam kicked him in it. Ritchie hollered and hit the ground, clutching his foot.

  Will tried to stand, but his legs were another part of his system that had yet to come back online. He was able to get on his hands and knees in time to receive another heavy kick from Sam, in the kidney this time. Will crumpled, his face on the ground.

  He saw a shiny red dot, a ladybug, moseying across ridges of dirt in fro
nt of his face. Beyond the ladybug, the crowd watched. Will could discern a mixture of pity and mockery across the different faces watching. Will felt himself urinate, he had no control over it. His bowels loosened and warm filth flooded his boxers. He saw Lucy running toward him. He shouted for her to stop.

  “Agh oh shtuhh!” was the best he could muster.

  Peripherally, he saw Sam punch Belinda in the stomach, and she folded over. The crowd groaned for her. Lucy rushed over to Will in a panic. Sam slapped her across the face, hard enough to knock her down. Will tried to attack Sam but he flopped around like a fish on a boat deck.

  “Woh ganh fuff!” Will whelped.

  Sam laughed with glee. He grabbed Will by the hair on the back of his head and twisted his head around so they could be face-to-face. Sam’s eyes were crazed.

  “Where’s your big brother now?” Sam said, low at first. He shouted it again for the whole quad. “WHERE’S YOUR BIG BROTHER NOW?”

  Sam pushed Will’s face into the dirt. He dragged it back and forth. Will tried to fight. He tried. But he couldn’t work his fingers well enough to grasp Sam’s wrists. He had to let the dirt and rocks scrape across his face, again and again. Sam let go. Will waited for the next strike. Nothing came.

  Will got himself up on one elbow. His arms were beginning to listen to his brain. He looked back. Other Loners lay on the ground, defeated. Sam was a few feet away from Will now, facing Varsity, who watched the show, as stunned as anyone else.

  “Are you satisfied now? Huh? I crushed the Loners,” Sam shouted at his gang. “What else do you need to see?”

  All of Varsity turned and began to walk out of the quad. They shook their heads at Sam, or ignored him completely. Sam shuffled a few steps after them.

  “Where are you going?” Sam said.

  Other gangs like the Sluts and the Geeks began to leave as well. Sam turned his rant to everyone when Varsity stopped caring.