“Inside, Lexi saw only people on gurneys. Coughing, screaming, prostrate patients, but no doctors. She yelled for help, flapping open each curtain as she ducked through the maze of rooms. But there was no one.”
“Something terrible was going on in this mall. Shay just had to keep Preeti and Nani safe. Hide them until this—whatever it was—was over. If she could do that, everything would be fine.”
“With the rising emotional barometer, Marco began to consider whether there was any possible scenario for survival within the mall. Each new malevolent customer made escape seem the best option. But was it even possible?”
“I’m Shaila Dixit,” she said, holding out her free hand. Mike shook it. “A little formal,” he said. He looked at Ryan, smiled, and let go of her hand. “But any friend of Ryan’s is a pal of mine.”
“Maddie began regaling Lexi with another tale from the History of Irvington Country Day. Apparently, it was not all tea parties and polo games. The last story ended with, “And then we had to call the fire department because the bonfire lit up the grass clippings in the lawn.”
“Take, for instance, Maddie Flynn. Not the brightest chip on the circuit board, but totally entertaining.”
“So a guy likes your tits and says so. Why let it get to you?” Maddie asked, giving Lexi the raised-eyebrow once-over. “I’m not like you,” Lexi said. Maddie’s eyebrows sunk into a scowl. Lexi scrambled for a better explanation. “I mean, I’m not good with boys.”
“Ryan felt tingly all over, like maybe he’d been tossed from his own body. But he was all right. By some small miracle, they were all okay.”
“If she could have deleted herself from the universe, she would have.”
“So how did you two meet?” the sister asked in a sing-songy, playground-taunt voice. Marco responded viscerally to the tone.”
“Years of abuse had trained Marco in the tactics of survival, which boiled down to this: If every time someone spoke to you, you fired back some sarcastic, fuck-you response, people tended to leave you alone. This method had served him well; now in his junior year, Marco was practically invisible to his peers. But not completely, as he was now aware.”
“How can you seem so normal?” she said. “Knowing what we know.” Her voice was muffled by her folded arms. “What, that we’re caught in a death trap?” Shay glanced up at Marco like he’d bitten her. He decided to holster his usual mode of response. He wanted to talk to this girl.”
“Having the job makes it easier,” he said, sitting opposite her. “Keeps my mind off things.” He would not say anything about his spy operation. “My job isn’t helping me at all.” She waved her hand up, then let it flop back onto her arm. “Job?” Marco asked. “Taking care of my grandmother and sister,” Shay said. “My grandmother’s diabetic. She needs insulin shots. And my sister is just, well.” Shay looked at him, eyebrows raised. “You have a little sister?” “I’m the little brother, so you’ll get no sympathy from me.”
“He forged ahead. “Where’d you move from?” “Jersey,” she said, without adding more. “Why hasn’t the bomb blown up already?” “Maybe it did and we’re all dead,” he said. “Heaven’s a bit of a disappointment.” “Yeah, and the food sucks.” She smiled. She got his gallows humor. He felt suddenly grateful for having been trapped in the squad car for all of yesterday.”
“Anyway, I thought you and Darren were cybernetically connected.”
“The man who’d found Lexi—Dr. Chen, she was told—joined the Senator.”
“What would telling people accomplish?” her mother asked. “Run this through with me: We tell people that if they get sick, they’re most likely going to die. Next, people will try to hide their symptoms, lie to themselves about being sick. This means they won’t seek treatment, they’ll stay out in the populace and infect more people.”
“Nani could always be counted on to act as a coconspirator.”
“At least she had a handle on her family. Arthur was convalescing on the couch in the Apple Store stockroom and Lexi was sitting next to him helping to type in the population database she’d asked them to create. It was nice having all of the Rosses on the same page.”
“She just had to keep them hopeful. If they had hope, they could be controlled.”
“Dotty laughed because that was what you did when someone thought they were funny. There should be Oscars for politicians. She took the key and stalked out to the hall.”
“Lexi shuffled into a sit. Her brain began scratching together an appropriate response. Talking was so different from texting—one had to string words together so quickly in real life.”
“I had a good teacher.” Shay felt an incredible urge to touch him, but feared she might burst into flame.”
“Her ears were blue. Somehow, all Shay could focus on were the ears. They looked like something off a Halloween mask.”
“You’re just going to let this happen?” Marco asked, incredulous.”
“Suddenly the divide between them and everyone outside seemed insurmountable.”
“A man—the boy’s father, it seemed—stepped forward and put one hand on his son’s shoulder, the other around his wife. When the hazmat man stood, the father picked his kid up and tried to leave.”
“The news channels were all blocked—not that they’d shown more than vapid speculation over the last few days.”
“We’re vagabonds. We value freedom. -Kara”
“Reese is a caring, talented, intelligent woman with a big heart and a strong will.” Every word Trent spoke was filled with love. “I promise you that I will treat her as the love of my life, because that’s who she is.”
“When one looks back across a chasm of seventy years, through a prism of pulp fiction and bad gangster movies, there is a tendency to view the events of 1933-34 as mythic, as folkloric. To the generations of Americans raised since World War II, the identities of criminals such as Charles “Pretty Boy” Floyd, Baby Face Nelson, “Ma” Barker, John Dillinger, and Clyde Barrow are no more real than are Luke Skywalker or Indiana Jones. After decades spent in the washing machine of popular culture, their stories have been bled of all reality, to an extent that few Americans today know who these people actually were, much less that they all rose to national prominence at the same time.”
“Your creation was the first step toward the destiny we share. Know this, when the skies darken and this love is tested, we shall not run. When death becomes silence and the battle lines are drawn, we shall fight. On this day, we fall to fate, as one. Your light breathes life into the darkness. It is with duty, honor, and protection I lay my sword at your feet and declare my love, devotion, and loyalty to you in the presence of the supernatural monarchies.” Asher bows his head and places his sword at my feet. “You are mine. My soul is yours. This love…is unbreakable.”
“But for now, happiness throws stones.
It guards itself.
I wait.”
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