Page 150 of Chaos
And she could have poisoned Yorke the night he was shot. And she tried to poison me.
I stand up, turn my back on her, and bend down to Yorke’s ear. “I’m exhausted. I’m going to figure out where we’re sleeping. You stay with the kids?”
IT’S STILL SNOWING.
Not justsnowing.Rampaging.
It’s coming down like a frozen deluge, thick as cotton balls, covering everything, filling up the windows so nothing is visible.
It keeps falling all night—as I check on Shasta in the pool house, keeping vigil over Church, and as I head back to the ballroom.
The wings of the hotel, while mostly un-crumbled, are still a mess of smoke and dust in the halls, and the snow piles up outside.
We’ve been assigned a new room, go to the pool house in quick shifts, change the sheets, use new toothbrushes and clothes and face wash loaned to us by friends since the community supply was in a conference room off the mezzanine overlooking the lobby.
We’re in a single room to share, which is my preference after the day, with two queen-sized beds. The walls are wallpapered like Shasta’s suite, the same midnight garden in shades of navy and charcoal.
Yorke put a fake candle on his otherwise empty side table, one of the ones with an orange flame that dances. It’s faded though, its battery dying. It’s not as good as a real one, but I’ve smelled enough smoke to last a lifetime.
Shane and Ephie made such convincing puppy dog faces, that there was no chance of saying no to her staying with us.
I couldn’t bear the thought of telling her to go, to process the aftermath of the fight in the greenhouse alone.
No one should be alone after that.
They’re asleep on one of the beds. She’s under the covers. He’s on top of them with a towel for a blanket.
There’s a desperation on her face, even in sleep, that I recognize. I wore that face after my mom died. I wore it after I met Jimmy. I wore it after the plague killed him, but lost it somewhere along the way.
It's desperation.
And desperation sits right on the line between fear and hope. It’s what happens when you’re teetering
I think she’s just waiting for us to reject her.
Auden is asleep on a small loveseat under the window, Beast glommed on beside him, snoring. No flashlight he’s clutched since I found him. No Mr. Oink-Oink.
Yorke and I haven’t really had a chance to speak. There’s been too much going on.
Ottilie offered to take Mitsy, as well as Rey and Kelly if we’d like, to the penal system in DC.
Colleen said yes about Mitzi.
And no about Rey and Kelly.
She told me privately she’s thinking that when Kelly heals, she’ll send them on their way to find a new home elsewhere. She asked me not to tell anyone, so of course, I told Yorke as soon as everyone else fell asleep.
“It seems like a harsh punishment,” I say quietly so no one wakes up, somewhat out of nowhere, running a small black barber’s comb through my wet hair. “Their only real crime was loving one another.”
“It’s a military thing,” he says. “Any kind of treason needs to be taken seriously. The army won’t trust them again, anyway. If they stayed, they’d make their lives hell.”
“They trust you now,” I say. It comes out harsher than I meant it.
“I was never one of them. Not in the same way. They bonded together at the Glenn. They’ve taken what Rey and Kelly did differently than me giving away ammunition.” He leans back in the bed, causing the mattress to dip. “She sabotaged communication during an enemy attack while half of us were in the middle of an active assault.”
I don’t entirely disagree. But, “It still seems harsh.”
“Maybe. They’d have gone to jail in the old world.”