The Seven Habits

of sand. Levi had even taught her how to use this little tool called a razor to make her legs and armpits as smooth as Baby’s tiny feet. She was getting pretty and she knew it. Still not as pretty as Levi… but she had noticed a change in the way Gauge looked at her, as if he were truly seeing her for the first time.

Think of Corduroy, then. Think of him and open the damn door already… While it was true that the others—even silent Pebble—had gone out of their way to make her comfortable, there was something about the way the burned man looked at her when he thought she wasn’t looking. Something that made her feel the way those flies must have when her mouth snapped shut.

His good eye seemed to study her every movement with cold calculation and she was sure she saw a glimmer of something when she talked with the others. Much like the sparks of anger that had leapt from her mother’s eyes when…

Don’t think about Mama. Think about Corduroy.

He never talked to her, not like Levi and Gauge did, at least. They were full of laughter and good-natured teasing, teaching her old songs their parents had handed down. They would tell stories, describe their dreams in such vivid detail that Ocean almost felt as if she had actually been there.

But Corduroy only answered her questions in gruff bursts where the words almost seemed detached from feeling. His voice was harsh, something between a gurgle and a hiss that caused chills to creep along her arms. Gauge told her once that it was because of the fire, that the flames had scorched the inside of Corduroy’s throat as much as the outside. He was actually lucky to be alive.

Still, he gave her the creeps. The way he was always watching over her, always lurking in the shadows, trying to approach her when he thought she was cornered and alone.

Do it, then. Open the door.

Ocean bit her bottom lip, placed her free hand against the metal, and pushed as gently as she did when rocking Baby’s cradle. Nothing more than a slight flexing of the muscles.

The hinges creaked as the crack between door and wall grew wider and she stopped, whipping her head to the side. Surely they’d heard. It seemed so loud in the silence, like the screeching of a hawk.

Her heart raced like the feet that she felt sure were running toward her even now. She had a sick feeling in her stomach, like she’d get when she had that first morsel of food after going days on nothing more substantial than insects.

At the same time there was a sense of excitement that she couldn’t explain. She knew what she was doing was bad; a part of her almost hoped to see Gauge’s form emerge from the darkness, to feel the bite of his anger, for him to punish her for this like she should have been punished after she’d killed her…

Ocean gulped and waited for the thunderous fury of the man whom she’d only recently admitted to herself that she loved.

Again… nothing.

She took a slow breath through her nose and looked back toward the door, at that gap of darkness that seemed to pull her into its gravity. Was it really worth it? Even if nobody ever found out, she would know. She’d know that she betrayed him, that she’d done the one thing he’d specifically asked her not to. Could she really add that to her list of sins?She hung her head so that her now-round chin rested against her chest.

No… she couldn’t.

Let’s just to back to bed.

She eased the door shut as slowly as she’d opened it, not wanting to risk another squeal from the hinges, as an odd mixture of relief and regret flooded her body. She’d never know what laid on the other side… but at the same time, she’d kept her word to Gauge, and maybe that was the most important thing anyway, to honor those who you lo—She heard it, some slight noise from the other side. A sound almost like the rustle of dry leaves.

Something was moving in there.

For some reason, the image of her mother appeared in her mind. Not as she’d been in life, but a decaying caricature of the woman who’d lost a husband and raised a little girl. Flesh sloughing away from bone, milky green pus oozing from blackened swells of flesh that pulsed with built up pressure. Despite the tire iron rammed into her now-festering skull, Mama shambled along, shedding a trail of scabs and clumps of hair to mark her passage. Her mouth opened, revealing a bloated tongue and teeth that had been chipped and cracked on the bones of the living.

She shook her head, like she could fling the thoughts from her imagination. No, she’d given Mama the burial rite. The woman would still be laying under the blue tarp as—

The sound pulled Ocean from her thoughts. It was softer this time and without further thought, she opened the door entirely.

She’d imagined a large room on the other side, one piled with supplies and other goodies. Instead, there was nothing more than a long, narrow hallway. On either side of the hall were a series of doors, each one made of wood with little barred windows set in the center. Some of them hung open and others were entirely shut.

One, however, had a heavy wooden plank resting in little brackets bolted to the wall. She’d never seen anything like it before, but it wasn’t hard for Ocean to figure out the purpose. Whatever was on the other side wouldn’t be able to get out, not without someone lifting the piece of timber from this side.

She felt as though she were moving through a dream as she stepped into the hallway, like her feet were actually floating slightly above the concrete floor. Even the smell of the place somehow seemed detached from reality, a slight mustiness mingled with a stink that reminded her of the pit they relieved themselves in.

But there was something else as well. Something she couldn’t quite place.

She approached the locked door slowly, as if it might swing open at any moment. Feeling dizzy and scared and exhilarated, part of her mind whispering that it wasn’t too late, that she could still just turn back, pretend she’d never laid eyes on that hall.

But could she? Could she really? Even if she wanted to, Ocean wasn’t entirely convinced that she could stop her feet from carrying her ever closer to that imposing door. Whatever she’d heard had to be hidden behind it. She wanted so badly to see…

She was only slightly taller than the window in the door and she stood for a moment, holding her breath, staring at the row of metal rods set into the sill. Behind it was a backdrop of perfect darkness, but the smell was stronger now. She heard the rattling noise again. Ocean cupped her hands over her eyes and peered through the gaps between the bars.

She felt as though some invisible force had pummeled her in the stomach, bile stinging the back of her throat with bitter acidity. Her entire body trembled with half formed thoughts ricocheting through the confines of her skull.

No… wait, I don’t… no, no, no… understand. What?

Tears brimmed in her eyes and she wished she’d never opened that metal door, had never seen this cursed hallway, that everything could simply go back to the way it had been before.

Can’t, never, I just don’t… She turned and fled, her footsteps echoing off the floor, not caring that the metal door she’d been warned about clanged shut behind her.

She hugged herself as she ran, telling herself that it had been a trick of light and shadow. It’d been dark in that little room, after all, and she did have a powerful imagination. Daddy had always told her so.

Oh, Daddy, I need you so bad. Daddy, Daddy, I need you.

By the time she’d made it back to the main hall, she’d slowed her pace a bit. She struggled to control her breathing as she slipped beneath the covers of her pallet. She lay there, crying softly, staring at the wall. She tried to understand what she’d seen on the other side of that wooden door, tried to comes to terms with what, exactly, it could mean and why it had yanked such a powerful response from her soul.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Something like that will shake a person up, let me tell ya. I hightailed it outta that bar, trying my best to just