“I won’t,” he said. “Don’t get mad.”
“I want to go back to the Stairs,” she said.
He nodded. They got up and walked. Will tried to start up more conversations, but she acted mad. She didn’t want to encourage him, but the truth was she hadn’t felt this alive in months. She was still riding the thrill of the run, Will’s feet slipping off the banister, her catching his arms, her hands clutching his body. It made her wonder what it would be like to date Will.
As they neared their home base, Lucy saw a smallish figure in an oversize McKinley sweatshirt by the entrance to the Stairs, about to knock on the door.
“Hey,” Will said. “What do you want?”
The figure jumped in surprise and turned to Will and Lucy, a strand of blonde hair curled around the lip of her hood. The light caught her face. Lucy knew her.
“Tara?” Lucy said.
She was the one of the more athletic girls in the Pretty Ones, and they used to be friends; that is, until Hilary snapped her fingers, and Tara turned her back on Lucy like all the rest of them.
“I’m here to see David,” Tara said.
“Why?” Lucy asked.
“I have a letter to deliver to him,” Tara said, her hands clutching something in her sweatshirt pocket. “And I’m only supposed to give it to him.”
That letter had to be from Hilary.
“Give it to me,” Lucy said.
“No. I’m only supposed to-”
“You’re not getting in here,” Lucy said. “I don’t know what you thought or Hilary thought, but you’re not going to see David. It doesn’t work that way.”
She could see Tara’s confidence slip a little. Lucy pounced.
She got right in her face.
“I know you don’t want to go back to Hilary with that letter in your hand.” She spat her words out, sharp and nasty. “I mean, I can’t imagine what she’d make you do. But I’ll take it.
I’ll give it to David. And you can go back to Hilary and tell her you placed it right in his hand.”
Tara looked at Lucy, still unsure. She picked at her lip as she weighed Lucy’s words. Give it to me, Lucy thought. Give it to me, you little bitch.
“No.”
Lucy lunged for Tara’s stupid, oversize pocket. Tara ran.
Damn it! She needed that letter. Lucy saw Will looking at her. She could tell he was upset. What came over her? She hated the Pretty Ones, but she’d never acted like that before.
Will needed to stop looking at her like that.
Why the hell was Hilary writing David a letter?
17
A window smashed behind Will. He couldn’t run any faster. They were coming up hot behind him.
Will pushed a rolling cart, it had a flat-screen TV and a DVD player on it. The dangling power cords twisted and tangled and lashed at his legs. One wheel of the cart was stuck, and it flapped around like a flag on a car antenna, shaking the entire cart. The TV began a tap dance off the side, but Will caught it.
He looked back. Freaks. A herd of them, clutching splintered two-by-fours. Fifty feet away. Blue hair whipping above their furious faces. They screamed. The sound of it bounced off the hollow metal lockers of the long hall and vibrated in the air all around him like the crash of a symbol.
Don’t seize.
He could have a grand mal seizure. Right now. But then again, he could anytime. Eating breakfast was just as dangerous. He could clench up, choke on a piece of bread, and die. He pumped his legs harder. He felt alive. The danger, the chase, the psychos at his heels, it all coursed through him like an electrical current.
Will rammed the A/V cart smack into the door of the Stairs.
“OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!” Will screamed.
He pounded and kicked it. The screaming mob barreled toward him like a runaway train.
“It’s Will!” he shouted. The door jerked open a crack, security chain still in place, and Leonard peeked out from the gap.
“What’s going…,” Leonard trailed off.
“HURRY!” Will barked, and Leonard jumped.
The chain fell away on the other side, and Will shoved the cart into the door. It swung wide, he charged inside. He let the cart roll away and smash into the armory. Will spun around and slammed the door shut on a Freak’s forearm.
The Freak’s hand writhed and twitched and clawed around for Will. Will drove his shoulder into the door and pushed with everything he had.
WHAM! Something heavy hit the door on the other side and cracked it open three inches wider. The Freak got his whole arm through the gap. The disembodied arm grabbed Will’s hair and yanked on it.
“Leonard, help me!”
Leonard stood still as a statue. Three Loners ran down the stairs and pushed Leonard aside. One of them was Gonzalo.
Gonzalo dug in and planted his wide hands on the door. His arms were as thick as legs.
“Who’s out there?” Gonzalo shouted.
“Freaks,” Will said. “A lot of them.”
WHAM! WHAM! More Freaks against the door. Gonzalo filled his chest and pushed. The hand let go of Will’s hair. A scream for mercy soared louder than the rest of the mob, and the arm jerked back. With a painful twist, the hand slipped back through, and the door slammed shut. Will quickly looped the chain and locked the door.
WHAM! A last-ditch effort from the other side. Some muffled conversation, then…
“You’re dead, Loners! Dead!”
They clomped off, back from where they came. Will dropped to his ass and struggled for breath. Loners poured down the stairs. They packed the first flight, scared and curious. The crowd parted for David.
“Shit,” Will said.
Gonzalo chuckled under his breath.
“What the hell just happened?” David said. He rushed forward.
“I got us a TV,” Will said, holding his gaze.
In the armory, Leonard tipped the TV back onto its stand and wheeled the whole rig out for the gang to see. The room reacted as though they had just seen a magic trick. People gasped and clapped.
“You got us a TV, or you stole a TV?”
“I stole a TV, David. You think those Freaks were just doing a free delivery?”
David glared at him, but Will stared at Lucy. She flicked her eyes between Will and the TV, like she couldn’t believe what he’d pulled off.
“You want to start a war with the Freaks over a TV?”
“And some movies,” Will replied.
“What movies?” Gonzalo said, pushing off the wall and shuffling toward the cart.
“I don’t know, there was a stack of them-”
“Forget the movies! We don’t need any more enemies.” David was acting like he was Will’s dad again, but Will wasn’t going to look like a chump in front of Lucy.
“They hate us already for moving in on their action on the quad, so do the Skaters. If you don’t want trouble, you shouldn’t have started a gang.”
“You want Loners to get killed so you can watch DVDs?” David looked desperate. Deep down, Will knew his brother had a point. Maybe he’d taken it too far, to impress Lucy. He felt a twinge of regret, but then again, he’d
