The Dollhouse Asylum (20 page)

Rushing out the back door, I decide to do what Marc’s probably doing on the other side of the street—studying the fence line. He’s not the only one who can look for a breach. I study the trees surrounding our yards—compact and mature, they block all light from the outside world. What type are they? Oak or elm, maybe. I should have listened to Mom when she tried teaching me about shrubs and trees. The trunks split early, giving the illusion of a “v,” and the leafy tops umbrella outward, creating rounded splotches of shade.

I run past the women’s yards, in too much of a hurry to stop and think about each girl, though a few anthills block my way. Behind Izzy’s or Gwen’s house, I find a pack of hornets working on a nest high up on the brick of the house. I need to feel closer to Marcus, remember the way he looked when he wanted to kiss me in my dining room. I wish I could run into him, but no doubt he’s not dumb enough to cross to our side of the street during the day. That would be a death wish. Maybe Cleo knows where he is. I can’t believe I’m considering talking to Cleo. I may need to gouge my eyes out first.

Maybe I could make up some lame excuse.
I didn’t get any breakfast. Do you have any extra muffins lying around?
Then I could casually slip in my question about Marcus.
You haven’t, by any chance, seen him in or around our street? Did he ask about me?

I’m lifting my hand to knock on Cleo’s back door when a slight noise behind me, like a twig snapping, makes me turn. Tree branches sway slightly, and a gust of wind gathers my shoulder-skimming hair, whipping it around my face. The fences have been breached. The Living Rot! Someone’s gotten inside. I’m not sure how protected I feel even with the vaccine.

But it’s Marcus who steps out from behind a short and extra-knobby tree, holding a finger to his lips. My stomach flip-flops.
Marcus—I’ve missed you more than I thought
. I remember the feel of his knee against mine, how it seemed to warm that skin the entire night. He’s smiling at me, but he quickly darts his eyes left and right, clearly careful about us being watched. I’m not sure what Teo or Jonas would do if they found out he was in the woods. I don’t think Teo would kill his own brother, but how many times have I been wrong when I’ve made a guess involving him?

A ring of sweat on the front of Marc’s T-shirt has a funny way of making him blend in. Now I’m wishing I hadn’t chosen to wear this yellow dress. One of the green ones would have camouflaged much better. All I know is I can’t think of anyone I would like to see more.

As I step into the forest, the trees I once thought of as giants seem to shrink in size. When I look up, they tower high above my head, but they’re maybe only two or three times my height. I reach out to touch the knobby warts on the trunk when Marcus stops me.

“Careful. They’re sharper than you’d think.”

I glance up at him, then back at the knobby trees, thinking they stand for Teo in some small way. They lure you in, if just for curiosity’s sake, but once you trust them, they’ll only cause you pain. I’m suddenly not so surprised these are the trees Teo’s chosen to surround his community with.

Glancing away from the tree trunk, I look up to Marcus to see what he thinks, and smile a little because it’s impossible not to smile when looking at him. I don’t know if it’s how he never intimidates me, or because I know it’s just a matter of time before he will make me laugh. Either reason is fine with me.

“You caught me,” Marcus says, mischief playing on his face, and it’s the face I remember from the math meets, always plotting something trivial but fun. Like when he tied two of the contestants’ ponytails together. You wouldn’t think it possible with the moderators close by, but both the girls’ hair ran all the way down their backs and peeked out the backs of their chairs. He was sitting right behind them, and I watched him tie the knot before he disappeared. Naturally, when the girls stood up the ponytails went taut, and everyone burst out laughing.

Eager to help, but not wanting to risk Teo finding out, I find myself asking, “Do you really think we should be out here during the day?”

Marcus shrugs, and it’s such a comfortable look, like the last thing on his mind right now is Teo. “Better than at night. I think that’s when the infected come out.”

My arms and chest freeze. “You mean—you saw them?” I don’t know if I can stand to look at them with their blood-dripping teeth.

But Marcus shakes his head, a quick, jerky movement, so very opposite from Teo. “I think I heard them, though.”

I imagine the sounds of their moans. That low rumble in their throats, like they are breaking out of a coma. That was the sound of the Living Rot on the TV. Suddenly my ears are pricking, tensing for the moment I hear that low moan. I look past Marcus into the dense woods. “Do you think they saw you?”

“Maybe.” He shrugs that carefree shrug again. “I was dumb the first night—too loud. But then I figured no one would think I was stupid enough to crawl around here in the middle of the day.”

Good point. I’m not sure whether he’s brilliant or really, really careless. I might be considered careless the way I’m planning to run from Teo, but I’m trying to be discreet. And I’ve found Marcus, who can help me forget about this ring. “I don’t suppose you’ve found the exit?” I ask, gesturing through the trees with the hand that doesn’t wear the ring.

Marcus shakes his head. “That’s the thing. I thought it would be behind the albino’s house, but there aren’t any breaks in the fence.” Naturally.

It does make sense that Teo brought us through a discreet gate. The blindfolds were in case we woke up. “How about behind Ramus’s place?” I ask. “Where Teo moved in?”

Marcus shakes his head again, and my chest tightens—I need some sort of hope, some escape route from Teo’s clutch. “I don’t think so. I covered that ground pretty fast, but I didn’t see anything that looked like it could open up.”

I glance through the trees—no squirrels, no birds. It’s like everything’s dead. Either that or these trees have only arrived, which with what I’ve seen from the rest of Teo’s little compound, could be true.

“What about Teo’s SUV?” I try. “You said he packed everyone inside when you first got here.”

“Yeah, but then he and the albino asked us to blindfold ourselves ‘for our own safety’ before drugging us.” Marcus scuffs his Doc Martens in the dirt. “Wish I never listened to that.”

My chest deflates as he crushes my last hope. And that’s not to mention his limited supply of insulin. How many days does he have left? Three? Four? I start to ask, but Marcus is already clicking something on his pump. He’s well aware of his insulin depletion. He doesn’t need me making it worse.

Deciding that searching the perimeter is our best option for escape, I finally ask, “Which way were you heading?”

“Well…”

“What?” I ask, annoyed, “Don’t you trust me?” I thought we were beyond that. I don’t know, ever since he visited and we had that talk in the dining room, I thought we were on the same page.

“I just don’t want you to get caught.” He’s studying the strips of fabric that make up my skirt and I blush, because now I feel dumb, like I look like Tinkerbell.

But I can’t let him see me looking self-conscious, so I spout off, “You haven’t been caught.” Because he hasn’t. Gosh, Cheyenne, you’re showing your smart genes today.

“That’s because I have mad skills,” Marcus plays along.

“Seriously?” I groan. “And you think I don’t?”

Marcus grabs my wrist, raises it high in the air, then drops it, as if that’s the way to assess my potential. He shakes his head, regretful, a smile on his lips. “Sorry, Cheyenne. Not so much as a spark.”

“What did you expect?” I huff. “For my hand to hover
magically
in the air?”

“Actually,” Marc’s face grows serious, “there is another way.”

I don’t know what he means until he stares at my lips. My throat constricts, and my heart pauses between beats. “And what is that?” I ask, unable to resist staring at his lips, too. I hate that I’m suddenly desperate to know whether or not Cleo knows what they’re like.

“It goes like this.” Marcus moves toward me and his face is suddenly inches from mine, his lips maybe three inches away. He’s going to kiss me. My heart’s thrashing because I really want him to. I thought he was going to kiss me when we were in my dining room, and like an idiot, I stopped him. But now it’s going to happen. He’s really going to place his lips on mine.

He leans in minutely, and my eyes flutter shut, my pulse thrashing inside my neck. Because he’s going to kiss me, and I’m going to get to know how those lips feel on mine. I’ll bet they’re soft, but not too cushy. Just as I think his lips are going to connect, a breeze washes over my face.

He’s laughing.

I open my eyes to find him staring at me, but now he’s more like a solid foot away. His lips are smirking in a crooked line and his eyes are darting all over my face, as if saying,
What? You thought I was going to kiss you? There’s no way
.

Now I feel like a complete idiot—I was positive that’s what he meant. I’m pretty sure he was inches away from me before because that
was
his intent. So I decide to go for clueless and shoot him the most puzzled look I can. To which Marcus shrugs like
he
doesn’t know what I’m talking about. But I can tell he’s disappointed I’m not begging for that kiss, because his eyes dart back to me when he thinks I’ve looked away, and our eyes lock for a split second before we both become so flustered that we look away.

Teo has never tried something like that. Playful isn’t quite Teo’s style. Erratic mood swings, anger, obsession. Those are the personality traits Teo knows best. Not smiling just because, and never little touches meant simply to buoy me up.

Marc weaves his fingers through my own, and I immediately tighten my hand against his. I love the strength he gives—the hard callouses, the large, wide hands that make me feel safer just having him around. Plus,
he’s holding my hand
.

We walk side-by-side in the woods, and he watches the ground, probably to walk quietly. I watch the ground, too—all the little twigs and roots and groundcover masking the dirt—when I stop watching closely enough and my foot crunches a pile of leaves.

“Sorry,” I mutter, glancing up at him in time to hook the front of my shoe under a tree branch. I try catching my balance by dropping his hand, but that only makes me succeed in swiping at the air like a lunatic before falling on a hard tree branch, right on my knees.

Marc’s voice is soft. “Mad skills, indeed.”

I glare up at him. Really? He’s joking about that now? But he’s staring lower, and when I look down to see at what, I find blood smeared across my knees. Beautiful.

Marc crouches down and gingerly presses his palm to my bare skin. “So, what other talents do you possess?” he asks with only a flicker of laughter now.

“Oh, I don’t know.” I roll my eyes. “Prostitution, gambling.” There’s no use in trying to come up with something real, because now I’m staring into Marc’s eyes and my brain’s sort of turning into slush.

His eyes are sparkling at me, and I hate to be the girl who says the boy’s eyes are sparkling, but they are. He looks happy. And I feel the same, like I’ve just chugged two Red Bulls and am ready to ride on a rollercoaster at Six Flags before buying a funnel cake and stuffing my face. I really can’t look away, because his eyes are so
blue
, like the indigo mushrooms in my mom’s garden—the exact shade she says mine are.

Marcus is studying me as much as I’m studying him. He lifts his finger and traces my jawline. “You’re really pretty, Cheyenne.” I try not to blush, but I know I’m failing as he rests the tip of his finger in the dimple of my cheek.

My heart becomes a Ping-Pong ball in my chest, and standing with him now, I
feel
like I’m pretty. I don’t know what it is, but when I’m with Marcus, I feel pretty inside
and
out. Not that I’m going to say that out loud.

Marc’s fingers trail down my shoulder, my arm, until they find their way into mine. Finger, by finger, by finger, by finger. I never imagined I could shiver in the hot sun, but I’m trembling, happy.

I think he’s going to trail his fingers up my arm and shoulder again, but then he does something absolutely unforgiveable. He squeezes my hand.

I pull my hand from his and move away to a mass of thistles. Hand squeezing is one of my biggest pet peeves ever since I saw Mayor Tydal do it to my mom. Ugh. “You did
not
just do that.”

Marc’s eyes widen, like he hasn’t got a clue. “What? I thought you would, uh,” he clears his throat, “like it.”

He doesn’t get it, so I decide to spell it out for him. “You squeezed my hand. That’s what old people do.”

“So?” His dark eyebrows perk up.

“So, there are plenty of other ways to get my attention. Hand squeezing is just so…” I can’t find the right word. Blasé. Cliché. There has to be a word for both, but worse.

Marcus folds his arms over his chest, that sparkle dances in his eyes. “So, you’ll never squeeze my hand?” He reaches up and breaks off a gnarled tree branch.

Not in a million years. I shake my head.

“Even if you really want to?”

I shake again.

“Huh.” He thinks for a moment, then smiles, a wide grin cracking open his face. “You will,” he says before chucking the branch he broke off into the woods.

He may
think
I will, but he’s inexperienced with the Laurent family stamina. My mom’s so stubborn she
forbids
the guys she dates from opening doors for her. And not just after they’re in a relationship. She bites their heads off on the first date.

Something crunches in the woods, maybe twenty, thirty feet from us.
They
have broken through. Or Teo has found us. I drop to the ground, and Marcus does the same, though I catch myself with the palms of my hands, which land right on a twig of thorns.
Crap
—I grit my teeth, force myself to swallow the pain.

Gingerly, I pick up the twig with my other hand and toss it to the side before catching Marc’s eye. He winces too.

We’re shoulder to shoulder, Marcus’s body heat pulling goose bumps from my skin. My heart
thump-thumps
, and I’m afraid he can hear how much he affects me. I want to be closer, am sort of glad to have this excuse not to pull away. He makes me feel so safe and warm, and it’s not a feeling I have by myself.