Clay's Ark (28 page)

contagious. Badger locked her away from them for her own safety. She had seen for herself how eager they were to get

her out of their sight. She wondered what they would do if they knew what she and her family had really given them-

what they were really doomed to. They would begin to find out soon enough. That was what Eli was waiting for. That

was why he was keeping them boxed in. He did not have to do anything more than that to win. She had heard him

talking about explosives, but then the car family had begun showing a noisy movie and the faint voices from outside

were drowned.

Yet there were explosives. Eli would do anything necessary to stop the car people if they threatened to break free

before they were ready to join him. He certainly would not let the friends they had called reach them. Keira did not

know what would happen to her, but somehow she was not afraid. She sat on the closet floor with bound hands and

feet, reading from cardboard boxes of old magazines. The lavish use of paper fascinated her. A one-hundred-and

twenty page magazine for only five or six dollars. A collector's item. Computer libraries like her father's made more

sense, occupied less space, could be more easily updated, but somehow, weren't as much fun to look at.

The light in the closet was dim, but Keira preferred it dim. She thought she might not be able to tolerate it if it were

normally bright. She was looking through an old National Geographic when the white-haired girl opened the door.

"Your father wants to see you," the girl said in her low, throaty voice.

Keira looked up from her magazine, stared at the girl, wondered what it might be like to be her-dirty, knowing, tough,

headed nowhere, but still young and not bad-looking. The girl's dark-tanned skin contrasted oddly with her white hair.

"He might want to see my sister," Keira said, "but I don't think he wants to see me."

"You the one he had the fight with?" the girl asked.

Keira did not hesitate. "Yes."

"Doesn't matter. He just wants to see one of you to make sure we haven't shot you. Come on." She unfastened Keira's

hand and leg restraints.

Keira started to refuse. She did not think the girl would force her. Then she realized that in spite of what had happened

between them, she wanted to see her father-probably for the same reason he wanted to see her. Just to be sure he was

all right. He had seemed so weak and sick when she saw him last. The organism seemed to be making her strong and

him weak. That was all that had permitted her to get away from him when Rane made her realize what was happening.

It occurred to her that as things stood now, each time she saw him might be the last. The thought frightened her and she

tried to reject it, but it had taken hold.

"All right," she said, standing up.

The girl watched her intently. "Is he really your father?"

"Yes."

"Is he part black, then, or is it just your mother?"

"My mother was black. He's white."

The girl nodded. "My mother was from Sweden. God knows why she came here. Got raped her first week here. That's

where I came from."

Shocked, Kiera spoke the first words that occurred to her. "But why didn't she have an-" Keira stopped, glanced

downward. There was something wrong with asking someone why she had not been aborted. She wondered why ttie

girl would tell her such a secret, shameful thing.

"She couldn't make up her mind," the girl said unperturbed. "She wanted to get rid of me, then she didn't, then she

wasn't sure, then I was born and it was too late. She kept me 'til I was fourteen, though. Then she went nuts and when

they took her away to cure her, I left." The girl sighed. "After that, life was shit until I got adopted into the family. How

old are you?"

"Sixteen," Keira told her.

"Really? How old is he?"

Keira looked at her sharply. The girl looked away. For a moment, Keira hated her, wanted to get awasy from her. Her

rage surprised her, then shamed her because she c"ould not help understanding its cause: jealousy. The girl had slept

with Blake-as Keira herself almost had. His scent was on her like a signature. For a moment Keira wondered how she

cou Id distinguish such a thing. His scent. . . Yet there was no doubt in her mind, and she was almost stiff with jealous

rage.

Then came the shame.

"Forty-four," she said softly. "He's forty-four" Neither she nor the girl said anything more. The girl let Keira in to see

her father, then minutes later, let her out again. Only then could she look at the girl and realize her father needed an ally

among the car people. The girl liked him and she could be useful to him in ways Keira certainly could not.

"Forty-four isn't old," Keira said as the girl took her back to the closet.

The girl glanced at her. "What'd you do? Decide it was okay for me to fuck him?"

Keira jumped. Not for the first time, she was grateful she was not as light-skinned as Rane. Nothing made Rane blush.

Everything would have made Keira blush.

"I just thought you liked him," Keira muttered.

"What if I do? He's your father, not the other way around."

Keira tried once more. "Did you bring him the blanket?" she asked. "And food?" She had seen an empty plate on the

floor near him.

"Yeah, so what?"

"Thank you," Keira said sincerely. She went back into the closet, waited to see whether the girl would put the cuffs

back on her. But the girl only looked at her, then closed the door. Keira waited for the soft click of the lock, but did not

hear it. Moments later, she heard the girl's footsteps going away.

Keira was almost free. With her enhanced senses, she might be able to slip out of the house, escape.

Alone.

But the white-haired girl had given her a choice she did not want-to challenge the car family by attempting to escape, to

desert her own family, or to remain in dangerous captivity. Here, she certainly could not help her family. At any time,

Badger might decide to kill his captives, rape them, use them as shields, anything. He had kicked her father almost into

unconsciousness for no reason at all. He and his people were unpredictable, ruthless, and, worst of all, cornered. What

would happen when they began to realize they were sick as well?

And whatever they decided to do, how would her staying affect them? Would it stop them from doing harm? Of course

not.

But if she escaped, the gang might take their anger and frustration out on her father and Rane. She hooked her arms

around her knees, pulled her knees up close to her chest. There she sat miserably as though she were still bound, still

locked in.

Each time she thought of her father, her mind flinched away, then fastened onto him again, forcing her into memories

of the thing that had almost happened-into confusion, fear, shame, loss, desire. . . .

Then she would remember the way Eli had looked at her, the feel of his body along the length of her own and inside

her, hurtful, but good somehow. That would not happen again. Meda would be there and Keira's father would not. Eli

would steer her toward someone else; he had warned her. That hurt, but it could not matter.

She listened intently for several seconds, heard the movie end, heard the shooting flare up and die down. Down the hall,

people were making love-or the ranch women were being raped. She had heard a little of that before and did not want

to hear more. There were people wandering around, talking, firing occasionally at targets they probably could not see.

Someone was talking about eating raw meat.

The words made her mouth water. Her hunger was not painful yet, but it would be soon. Nothing else was hurting her

body now, but hunger could change that quickly. If she waited much longer, let herself be locked in again, she could

starve. The car gang would not understand. It might ignore her. This closet could become her tomb.

She grasped the knob, turned it slowly, noiselessly. She heard nothing nearby-not even breathing.

Yet the instant she opened the door, something small, silent, and incredibly quick leaped into the closet with her. Only

her speeded-up reaction time saved her. Her moment of confusion and terror passed so quickly, she was able to keep

herself from screaming. Instead, she shut the closet door quickly, quietly, and turned to face Jacob.

He was naked and trembling. Before she realized what he meant to do, he leaped again, this time at her.

To her amazement, she caught him. He was heavy, but she had no trouble holding him. A few days before, she did not

think she could have lifted him from the ground, let alone caught him in midair. He clung to her, utterly silent, but

clearly terrified.

"What are you doing here?" she whispered, hugging him and rubbing his trembling shoulders. She was surprised to

realize how glad she was to see him-and how frightened she was for him in this deadly place. "Jacob, you could get

hurt! You could get-" She stopped. "You have to get away!"

"You do, too," he said. "Nobody knew where you were in the house so I came to find you. Everybody from home is

outside."

"Do your parents know you're inside?"

"No!" He drew back from her a little, his trembling quieted. "Don't tell them. Okay?"

"I won't tell them a thing. Just let's get out of here. How did you get in?"

"There's a room with a hole instead of window glass. You were in there before. It smells like you-and like other

people."

"A room with a hole?"

Distantly, Keira heard shooting and running feet. It sounded like fighting within the house. Car people fighting among

themselves.

Jacob glanced toward the door. "They were hurting her," he said. "She's got a gun and shot one of them. Now she's

shooting more."

"Who?"

"Your sister. She's getting away."

"Is she? My God, let's go!"

"Your father's gone, too, I think. I smelled the room where he was back at home. His same smell was in the room with

the hole."

God, while she had sat worrying about leaving them, they were leaving her. She opened the door, crept out of the

closet, still holding the boy.

"I'll show you where the hole is," he said. He squirmed against her, leaped soundlessly to the floor, sped down the hall

toward her father's room. Of course the hole would be there. But how had her father broken out the glass?

And Rane. Was she all right? Could she make it alone? Keira turned, crept back up the hall to the family room. This

room adjoined the kitchen and the dining room. From the hall door of the family room, Keira could see car people

crouched behind the counter, occasionally looking around or over it into the kitchen. Keira could see over the counter

and into the kitchen, could see Rane sitting at the back door, cradling an automatic rifle. For an instant, Rane's eyes met

Keira's. Then Jacob was tugging at Keira's dress.

"Go!" Keira whispered. "Get out!"

"You come too," the boy pleaded. "The whole house smells like blood. People are dying."