Monsters (Page 51)

Tori caught up as he and Pru were halfway down the nave. “She’s just upset.”

“Lot of that going around,” Pru said.

“Don’t worry about it,” Greg said, still angry. “No big deal.”

“Yes, it is. Look, I . . .” Tori’s eyes flickered to Pru and then back. “Can we just talk a sec?”

“Uh . . . sure.” Greg looked over at Pru, who only hunched a shoulder and headed for the altar, hung a left, and ducked through an arched entry. Greg waited until he heard the clump of Pru’s boots on the steps, then turned back to Tori. “Yeah?”

“I didn’t mean to give you a hard time,” she said, giving his arm a light squeeze. “I’m glad the Council picked you to take Chris’s place and not Pru.”

“Oh.” His mouth dried up. Tori had never touched him before. No girl had. How strange was this, to be standing in a church with a girl he was majorly crushing on—and he was armed? “I don’t, ah . . .” He muzzled a cough. “It’s not like I had a lot of choice.”

Tori’s eyes were very blue, but that could’ve been because she was standing even closer than before. “You could’ve said no. But you didn’t. It’s easy for people to complain, like how I always got on my mom’s case when she wouldn’t let me stay up late?” Tori’s mouth moved in a smile so sad Greg had this weird impulse to cup her cheek the way his mom used to when he had a bad fever. “Now that we have all these little kids, I understand where she was coming from.”

“Most days I’d give anything for my mom to nag about homework or put away the Xbox. I don’t think she’d even recognize me anymore.”

“She’d recognize you. You’re doing the best you can.”

“But what if it isn’t my best?”

“Then figure it out,” she said, and before he knew what was happening, her mouth was on his.

Greg was so startled he gasped. His heart began to bang and he thought he might faint, this felt so good. He didn’t know what to do with his hands, couldn’t catch his breath, wasn’t really thinking anymore. They came up for air at the same moment, and he said, “T-Tori—”

“Shh,” she said.

So they stopped talking for a while, and that was fine. That was good.

At least, there were a couple moments where Greg didn’t have to think about what a terrible person he was, heading out to kill some grandma’s poor old cat.

41

An hour later:

“Go rest,” Tori whispered, laying a light hand on Sarah’s shoulder.

“I’ll sit with Caleb.”

“No. It’s all right.” Sarah tried a smile, but her muscles felt frozen,

a feeling that reminded her of when her dad repaired their driveway

and she’d tested just how long you could stick your sneaker into wet

cement. A million years from now, an archaeologist would discover a

little pink sneaker and wonder where the rest of the body was. “What’s so funny?”

“Huh?” Sarah actually had to put a hand to her face. Her lips

were so stiff they would’ve been at home on a corpse. “Nothing. I

was just remembering something.” By her feet, she felt Jet whimper.

Normally calm, Jet had been restless ever since Greg and Pru left.

“I’m sorry about earlier, with Greg. It wasn’t fair.”

“No, it wasn’t.” Tori draped a moist cloth over the little boy’s forehead. “You’ve got to stop this self-pity crap. We all miss Peter. I keep

expecting Chris to walk in any second.”

“To rescue us?” She marveled at how easily the bitterness oozed

back. When had she gotten so mean? All this moaning and woe-is-me

. . . Still whining, Jet had clambered to his feet. She ruffled his ears to

quiet the animal—and herself—down. “I’m sorry. That was nasty. I

just can’t seem to find a balance, like I’m on this emotional teetertotter.”

“You’re not the only person having a hard time. Greg is trying,

and he’s got feelings to hurt. You think I’m always so cheerful and

understanding? Most of the time, I’m faking it. Otherwise I’d spend

half the day crying and the other half daydreaming about food I can’t

have. I’m going to be eighteen in two months. I should be thinking

about college and driving my mom crazy and if I’ll be a blimp in a

prom dress.” Tori squeezed out a small, bleak laugh. “Wish my mom

could see me. She was always on me about my weight.” “So were you faking it before? Talking about getting away, I mean.” “No. We better do it soon. Pru’s right. You can feel it in the air,

how angry everyone is. The food went so fast, and so did the rest of

the supplies. We’ve got plenty of guns but no bullets and no game

left to hunt anyway. We’ll be lucky the Council doesn’t get lynched.

Things are starting to get out of control.” Tori paused. “Remember I

mentioned unlocking the choir door? What I didn’t say was . . . Cutter

was waiting, right outside, hours before he was scheduled to show.” “What?” Of their two night guards, she most disliked the shaggy,

thickset old man who’d wandered into Rule with Lang and Weller.

Other oldsters darted a quick glance, but Cutter actually stared. “Why

didn’t you say anything?”

“Because he didn’t exactly do anything. He pretended he needed

to check the door. You know how small that landing is?” She did. The stairs were narrow, meant for the choir to access the

chancel. The landing between the basement and sanctuary was a

square no larger than a couple doormats placed side by side. “Did he

. . . you know . . .” She didn’t want to say touch you.

“Pretty much. He was inside so fast he copped a pretty good feel.

His face was . . . dangerous. Like I’d better not scream or fight.” “You really think he would’ve hurt you?”

“I honestly didn’t want to find out. But there are the littler kids,

and I thought, all of a sudden, well . . . better me than one of them.

How sick is that?”

“That’s not sick. You were protecting the kids.” Sarah took Tori’s

chilled hands in hers. “Something else happened, though. I can tell.

What was it?”