“I’m good. Those things’ll kill you.”
“I thought that was the point,” he says. I smile, and he matches it with one so hopeful I feel somewhat guilty for my victory of before. “See you soon.”
Once I close the gate behind him, Indy comes forward. She doesn’t speak, but her sigh tells me I did good, and awful, and that I’m in deep.
“I know,” I say.
Lucky has been sent to a roof for his first time on watch, and Indy peers out the windows every so often although there’s no chance she’ll spot him. Everyone else sits in our living room while Lincoln oversees a game of Candyland at the dining room table with more patience than I would. He’s closely monitored by Emily, who, as the arbiter of fairness, twists her blond hair around her finger with deep concentration on where everyone is to move their gingerbread man next.
As requested, Elena has come to our apartment with May, Rissa, April, and Brother David, who makes sure the kids are busy far across the room before he says, “I might have ten parents who want out.”
“How do you know?” Indy asks.
“I brought up Central Park. When they appeared interested, I made it seem like it was their idea. A few said they’d let their children go first if necessary.”
“What about the other two hundred people?” I ask.
“I’ll get to them.”
I’ve been fixated on myself while Brother David tests the waters and risks his life. Elena raises her eyes from the full glass of wine in her hand. “Will you take Aurelia and Felix if you can leave?”
“And you,” he says.
“I’m not afraid for me.” She’s petite and delicate, as Walt said, which encourages you to think of her as weak, but her face is set. The hands that flitted around weeks ago are steady. “They like him too much. I can’t tell them to be scared of him because he’ll know something’s wrong.”
“What is he like?” Indy asks.
Color rises in Elena’s cheeks. She glances at Brother David. He gets to his feet, but Elena motions for him to sit. “He’s nice, and he gives us stuff,” she says. “He wants me to be grateful, so I am. What else can I do?”
Brother David stiffens, both outraged and somewhat taken aback. My fellow women, not so much. We know what it’s like to give up our pride or our bodies out of fear, or to avoid escalation to violence, or in order to continue breathing. And we know what it’s like to brush it aside whenever possible; if you dwell on it, you could lose your mind. You can bet your ass I’d do the same as Elena to protect Leo.
“You’re not going to give her the birth control lecture?” April asks me.
“Pretty sure, after two kids, she has it down,” I say.
I’m the wrong person to be lecturing on the subject, although I’d make a mighty fine cautionary tale. No one but Indy knows about The Parasite, and we’re planning to keep it that way for now. I even have a glass of wine I sip every now and again. My pregnancy book says the occasional glass of wine is okay, and I would suck it down if it didn’t smell like dirty feet dipped in vinegar.
“I have an idea of where the insulin is,” Elena says. “Walt told Tai to go to the apartment and get a bottle for Roger.”
“Which apartment?” I ask.
“I’m not sure. But he wasn’t gone that long, so it’s in the café building.”
That’s a job for Roger. We can’t search the vacant floors without raising suspicion. If he finds his insulin, maybe he’ll be willing to move on this. All he’d have to do is put me and Indy on the Avenue C gate with someone we can overpower, then put Micah on the inner gate with him to let everyone out.
It sounds simple in my head, but there’s much to go wrong. A stray guard, the people on the roofs, the constant comings and goings from the Public Safety office, by which our group would have to pass and where people hang out all night. We need somewhere safe to go once we’re out, and likely our people outside to help us get us there, which means we need a solid date. It makes me weary just to think about it.
I close my eyes to listen and wake when they’re leaving. May is gone first, Brother David herding the kids behind her. Elena finishes helping Indy straighten up and comes to grab her bag. “Are you okay?” I ask her.
“Are you?” she asks, shrugging. “It can’t be easy with Roger.”
“I don’t have to sleep with him. Are you being safe?”
She sits on the coffee table with a wry smile. “Have you ever met anyone who likes condoms?” I shake my head, afraid she’ll end up like me, only with a crazy motherfucker’s kid. Walt might decide she’s better off dead if she gets pregnant. She touches my knee. “He thinks we’re a family. As long as I pretend, I think I’m okay.”
“He has a rescue complex.”
“I know.” Elena rolls her eyes. “I had a boyfriend before Felipe. We were so young, but he was already like Walt. He didn’t want me to be too strong but hated when I was too weak, and he was mean either way. I learned how to stay in the middle.”
“Who knew that would come in handy?”
“Right?” she asks with a humorless laugh.
Indy leaves for down the hall and returns with a pack of birth control pills she hands to Elena. “They’re the last I have, but we’ll get you more.”
“Keep them here, and I’ll get one from you every day so he doesn’t see. I just got my period. Can I start them?”
“Start them now,” I say. “They’ll be working by the time you need them.”
Indy pops the first from the pack. Elena inspects the glasses on the table, shrugs, and washes it down with what’s left in the wine bottle. She stands a little straighter when she gets to her feet, maybe because she’s gained control over part of this situation. “Thank you. Will you do me a favor?”
“Anything,” Indy says.
“If something happens to me, will you two take care of the kids?”
Indy touches her shoulder. “Of course we will.”
Elena swallows, eyes misty. “And, if you see Guillermo, don’t tell him about Walt. I don’t know if I want him to—I’ll tell him myself, when, if, I want to.”
Indy and I promise we won’t. We know, and Elena knows, that there’s no reason for her to feel ashamed or guilty. She has kids and she wants to live. But things aren’t that simple when it comes to emotions.
“You can tell him I miss him, though. I loved Felipe, but I always had a little crush on Guillermo. He’s so happy, how could you not? If things go wrong, tell him this wasn’t his fault.”
“We won’t have to,” I say. “You’ll tell him yourself.”
She nods, doubt constricting her smile, and leaves for her apartment. Indy watches with rounded shoulders. Once our door closes, she says, “I can’t stand this shit.”
I know exactly how she feels.
95
Indy and I are just getting off our second shift at the gate when we hear of their return from Central Park. We leave this shift’s watchdog, Steve, and our two replacements to deal with them. The idea of seeing Roger is repellant, like he’s a human Twizzler. I’m not sure if it’s him, or if it’s that I can’t stand pretending. Either way, it’s too early for a bad taste in my mouth.
We pass the cafe, heading for our building and sleep, when Roger calls, “Sylvie! Indy!”
“Keep walking,” I say.
“Indy!” another voice calls. At this one, we stop.
Indy stares straight ahead, body tensed. I look over my shoulder. Paul walks beside Roger and Micah, dwarfing them both. Walt walks twenty feet behind with Freddy. Obviously, Paul is here with his permission.
“What the hell?” I ask no one.
Indy spins slowly, almost fearfully, with her jaw hanging. When he’s fifty feet away, she takes off for him like he truly is back from the dead. By the time I arrive at the two of them, her face shines with not a trace of whatever in sight.
My mind runs through all the possibilities. Paul could have come to tell us of bad news about Leo, or any number of t
hings. Maybe a bunch of them died going after Sunset Park. Maybe Eric is dead or hurt. “What are you doing here?” Indy asks.
“Were those notes for me or another Paul?” Paul asks with a wink. He’s too happy for anything horrible to have happened, and my worry subsides.
“The other one,” Indy says. “But you’ll do.”
“We brought you something,” Walt says as he joins us. “I’d say we found him, but he found us. Saved our asses, more like.”
Beside him, Freddy grumbles, “We would’ve been fine.”
“Now, now. Credit where credit is due. He saved us from a tedious few hours, at the very least.” Walt raises his eyebrows at Indy. “Your boyfriend warned us about a mob just about to fall off the Queensboro Bridge. Not only did he warn us, but he’d already formed a plan to secure it closed.”
“That’s Paul,” Indy says. “Always saving people.”
“What can I say?” Paul hitches his backpack higher on his shoulders. “I told them I was on my way to you, and they said to come along. Any chance of a shower?”
“Of course,” I say. “You’ll stay with us.”
Paul knocks Walt’s arm. “Thanks, bro. Appreciate the ride. Let me know what I need to do to earn my keep.”
I wait for Walt to get pissed at the familiarity, but he seems to enjoy being treated as one of the boys instead of receiving the customary deference. “I think we’ll find a use for you. Roger will let you know. For today, clean up and enjoy yourself.”
“I can do that.” Paul shakes his hand, then Freddy’s. The latter looks none too pleased. Paul doesn’t appear to notice, though those things don’t get past him. Like his girlfriend, he’s a kickass actor.
Roger comes to our apartment and waits in the living room while Indy shows Paul their bedroom. “Do you think they’re coming out?” he asks.
“Give them ten minutes,” I say, and he snorts.
“I have to go help with stuff. I’ll see you later.”
“Elena thinks your insulin is in your building.”
I convey what little information I have, and Roger says, “He wouldn’t let it freeze in one of the unheated apartments. Maybe he has a fridge somewhere.”
Though we only use solar power on the inhabited floors, some apartments are electrified by default. Or he has someone holding it for him.
“I’ll take a look around.” He touches my arm. This close, I can smell the liquor coming off him. I swallow a dry heave and breathe through my mouth. “I’m glad we’re talking again.”
“Me, too.” I force a smile. “Had a rough night?”
“What?”
I wave a hand by my nose in response, and he lowers his head. “Yeah, I haven’t been real good about that.”
I nod, thinking of a million things to say and saying none.
“What?” he asks in a defensive tone.
“Nothing.”
“No. What?”
“It’s just that I can’t see how helpful you’ll be when you’re drunk all the time. You’re going to look around for your insulin. Maybe you don’t have a reason to leave, but we’re afraid of dying, Roger. Dying. Don’t you get that?”
My eyes fill, and I curse the tears that never end. Typically, I’d be a ball of fiery rage, but I can no longer do that without crying. Roger’s tight lips relax, and he takes my shoulders. “I know. I’m sorry. We weren’t talking, and I felt bad and… I promise I’ll stop.”
The tears I despise are working for me. If I were pissed, he would be, but he can’t stand the crying. “Just try,” I say, and throw in an extra sniffle. “Help us leave. We won’t fight afterward, if that’s what you want.”
“Walt seems better, doesn’t he?” he asks.
Walt acts like a man who’s found love, except he found it when it was climbing a wall to escape him. He’s a smart guy, and he must know she wouldn’t refuse him out of fear. Either he has a giant blind spot, or Elena plays her part well.
“I think he’s changing,” Roger says. “You might not have to fight.”
I nod, though Walt is dying one way or another. It’s out of my hands. There’s no way Guillermo or Jorge or Eric would ever agree, not that I would. But, I find, I can lie about it almost as easily as I can cry.
Indy and Paul enter the living room. Roger’s hands drop from my shoulders and he steps back. “I’ll leave you guys alone.”
The door closes behind him. “What was that?” Paul asks. Though he may not want to sound accusatory, he most definitely does.
“What was what?” I sit on the couch and fold my arms. Paul knows exactly what my job here entails. As disagreeable as it grows with each passing day, I’m very aware it could be worse—I could be in Elena’s shoes. “Don’t start getting all holier than thou on me, Paul. This is already stressful enough, and if I have to deal with bullshit from you, I swear I will punch you again.”
He catches Indy’s glare and lifts his hands. “Okay, I’m sorry. I am. It’s just weird.”
“It’s probably weirder for me,” I say, and he grimaces in agreement. “Also, I’m glad you’re here.”
“Yeah, all it took was a few loosened bolts on the Queensboro.”
“You staged that?”
“Eric gave me the idea.”
I ignore the information that Paul and Eric have spoken. Maybe Eric’s already in Manhattan, but I refuse to ask about him. “Why are you here? Where’s Leo?”
“I dropped him off at the monastery. Eric’s bringing him to the city when he comes in a couple weeks. I’m here to help get you out.”
“How?”
“To be determined.”
He’s here to protect us. I don’t know what unarmed Paul expects to do against loaded guns, but I’m glad to have him around.
“Hey, you know Jerry?” Paul asks. “He’s alive.”
He tells us the story of Jerry, Ren, and Blake. Mo and the others are doing what they can to infiltrate Central Park, though it’s locked down to all newcomers but Walt. And he tells us what he heard today: Teddy knows Mo is alive. They’re going on the hunt again.
“What?” Indy’s fingers rise to her mouth. “Do they have any idea where they are?”
“Not yet, and we have to warn them before they find the High Line.” Paul is outwardly calm, but there’s turmoil in his eyes. Leo will be there soon. “Can you get out again?”
“You were our excuse,” Indy says.
“We’ll think of something. Or Roger can go.”
“If he’s not drunk,” I mutter.
Paul takes a seat on the couch facing me. “Speaking of Roger, I saw Eric.”
“I figured.”
“Don’t you want to know how he was?”
I shrug. I’ll die before I admit I do.
“He gave me a letter for you. I couldn’t bring it in, but it’s at The Standard.”
I watch the wall. It’s possible I want to read this letter more than I’ve ever wanted to read anything in my life. “Did you read it?”
“ ’Course not. But he’s sorry, Syls. He really is. He’s miserable.”
The knot in my stomach tightens. It’s there all the time now—a weight reminding me that I’m not alone, and also how I feel more alone than ever. “You didn’t tell him about…”
“You told me not to,” he says. “But he’s doing everything he can to get to the city. Running around and doing chin-ups like he’s starring in Rocky IV and shit. He killed Emilio.”
I turn to him. “In Sunset Park?”
Paul watches me for a moment, as if weighing how much he should tell. “No, but he killed other people when they went in. They brought Emilio back to the monastery to get information. When Emilio started fucking with them, Eric stabbed him in the ribs. Ground the knife in, too, Guillermo said.”
I’ve glimpsed that anger in Eric since March, and I have no doubt he’ll do whatever it takes to end this, just like I watched Denise bleed to death on the sidewalk. We’ve both changed, but I wish I could look into his eyes and
see if, somewhere, he’s the person he was before. If we’re the same as we were before.
Paul raises his brows. “Just so you know, I might’ve flipped if my girlfriend was coming in here with the guy who stabbed me and kissed her.”
“And you would’ve left, too?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. You’ve never made a mistake?”
I look to Indy for support. She cringes, eyes scrunched. “You both said things you shouldn’t have.”
“I know that, but you didn’t see the Eric I saw,” I say. “And I apologized, but he…” I shut my mouth when my eyes begin to sting. I’m done talking about Eric. I put him in a compartment when he was fake dead, and I’ve shoved him in there again. I have to, in order to stay sane.
Indy sits on the arm of the couch and touches my shoulder. “I’m just saying I know how much he loves you. You two gave me hope that not every guy was a dick. And they’re not.” Paul puffs up, and Indy says, “Yes, I’m talking about you. Don’t be an ass about it.”
Paul keeps right on smiling despite Indy’s sound of annoyance. Or, knowing Paul, because of it. “How’s the baby thing going?” he asks.
I’m glad he’s changed the subject, though I don’t like this one better. “It’s the length of a wasp, and its tail is gone.”
“Don’t ask,” Indy says. “She’s fine, when she’s not living in denial.”
“I don’t drink, I don’t smoke,” I say. “I’m eating vegetables and taking my vitamins. How is that denial?”
“You call it The Parasite,” she says. Lacking any solid retort, I do the mature thing and make a face.
“Hannah hated being pregnant,” Paul says. “She said it was worth it since we got Leo at the end. She also said never again.”
“But I’m not getting Leo. How about you take this one and I take Leo? An even trade.”
Paul chuckles; he thinks I’m joking. “You’ll love it when it comes out.”
I don’t want to think about it coming out. Either the actual birth or the baby afterward. And I don’t want to think about what Paul has said. It’s my biggest fear, and it makes me feel like such a horrible person that I can’t say it aloud.
The City Series (Book 3): Instauration Page 65
