The Dollhouse Asylum (25 page)

“And so, my dear Persephone, I need your help, much like Jonas once needed mine.”

The air is a thick gulf of water pressing down on my head. “Jonas?” He seems like the last person to need Teo’s help. His kung fu moves made it look like he can take care of himself.

Maybe I could say I’ll help him if he lets me take charge of the remote. Flutter my eyelashes and remind him of that time we spent in his room.

But Teo spreads his lips in a patronizing smile. “One detail at a time, my love. Let us not say too much.” He pats my head like I’m a child, and I wonder if people with psychopathic tendencies think everyone is below them.

“I suppose,” Teo says, “it will take you some time to accept the fact that I do make mistakes.” I choke a little, but I coolly swallow down my spit, because Teo would
not
understand me laughing right now.

Petting the blanket like it’s made of satin, Teo goes on. “I was blinded by the number seven; I hope you can accept that. But will you forgive me? Help me determine the most faithful three?”

How can he think I would do that—list who he kills next? Panic tightens in my chest, and it’s like Teo can see it, because his eyes narrow. I force myself to nod, my mind reeling. Maybe this is the way I can save the rest. If I can convince Teo to force those he doesn’t want to leave, and if I can get them the vaccine, they might stand a chance. It would take a lot of persuading, but if I could help them escape Elysian Fields, maybe they could find a refuge from the Living Rot somewhere else.

But Teo’s waiting for an answer, and I have to be as convincing as possible. If he discovers my plan to give everyone he’s brought here a free ticket to the outside world, he won’t be happy, so I force my voice to sound as unfeeling as possible. “You should kick them out.”

Teo narrows his eyes, and they become two black slits in the daylight. “And why would you say that?”

Perspiration trickles down my back; this is when the convincing starts. I need to be logical, and see things his way. I need to save everyone. Not the way I failed Bee and Izzy, Gwen and the boys, too. I narrow my eyes like I saw him do and speak as callously as I can. “Didn’t you say Elysian Fields in the myth was only for the pure? Those who don’t deserve to live here should be ostracized from our society. To let them die in this place would mean an honorable death.”
Yes
. They might evade the sickness. Get to the Gulf. Maybe I should convince him Marc should go, but I want Marcus to stay.

Narrowing his eyes again, Teo says, “I find it interesting that I asked you
who
you thought should leave and you offered
how
the disfavored should go. I shall remember this. You seem to be fixated on the thought.”

All I can see are the others dropping—like Izzy and Bee. And Ramus. And Tristan. Lance and Gwen. Six deaths are on my hands. He’s killing them and I’m letting it be. I can’t allow this; I need to show him this plan is pointless—that he’ll never be happy even if he gets down to three.

“And that concludes our date.” Teo jumps to his feet just as my heart lands in my throat. I got so caught up in the fact that he’s getting down to three couples that I didn’t reach for the remote. I make myself follow, grasp for words that float around in my head. I could ask him to kiss me. I could throw my arms around him.

“It was a morning of bliss,” Teo says as he brushes his lips across my face, my hair. I tense for a millisecond to reach inside his coat when he brushes his lips on my throat. Warmth surges up and down my chest.
I like it. My neck actually likes it
. I deserve to be flogged and dragged down this hellish street.

Shaken, I thrust my hand in his coat, but just in time, Teo stoops down to grab the blanket. Setting it in my hands, he says, “Again, thank you, my love, but I fear ostracism is against my ideals. Better for our neighbors to face a death of haste than face the rage of Hades should they try to leave.”

And then he’s gone, and I’ve failed to get the remote.

Shaking and angry with myself, I watch the four remaining men stroll to the street after Teo. They do not dawdle, but stride purposefully to their homes. I try to see down the line, watch each of them as they leave, but Abe’s happy gait distracts me. He kisses Eloise’s letter again and again, but he doesn’t dare turn to wave goodbye.

How will Teo pick which of the remaining couples should stay? Will two of them be the girls who haven’t held the parties in their own homes, or are they destined to failure no matter what they prepare? Or maybe Teo will accept whatever these ladies do, now that he seems to be in a more contented mood.

I need to speak with Marcus; I need to know what he’s learned about the fence, if it’s possible for us to escape. Because the clock’s ticking and there’s no telling how long Teo will stay content like this.

Walking toward my red brick house and its pencil-thin trees, I notice my mailbox lid has fallen wide open, so I reach inside. My fingers touch a letter, and when I rip it open, it’s in the same handwriting as the letter from before. This must be Jonas’s writing, because now it states that he will host the next party.

Part of me is relieved—this gives the remaining couples more time to plan their soirées. But why would Jonas host a party? Maybe it has something to do with what Teo said about Jonas owing him.

Once inside my house, I’m torn as to what to do. It’s early, not even lunchtime. Yesterday, I might have expected Izzy to pop in with a plan, but there is no Izzy. No one to pop aerials or gush over boys. If I could, I’d go to my room and pull the blankets over my head, but that is not how to “best” Teo. I need to research our escape. Marcus and Cleo may be rustling around in some trees, so I
need
to find them.

Whisking through Bee’s house and out the back door, I fly past the backyards—narrowly missing a few of those anthills again—and once I find the spot where I saw Marcus yesterday, behind Cleo’s house, I jump into the trees.

I round the short and extra-knobby one I found Marc standing near yesterday, but I come up empty. No Marcus. What did I think he was doing? Sitting around here all day hoping to find me? There’s no way I’m going to find him in the trees. I still can’t believe I didn’t grab the remote.

Picking my way through the spikey trees, I pray the people contaminated with the Living Rot didn’t take Ramus and Bee. I can only imagine what they would do to them with their blood-dripping teeth.

Running now, I whip past branches and bark and leaves, everything a green and brown blur. A few thorns snag on my skirt like claws on a witch’s bony fingertips, but I keep going, because I
must
see Ramus and Bee.

When I reach the fence, though, nothing catches my eye from the other side. The body bags—they’re supposed to be there. I move down the fence line in case I’m not in the same spot, narrow my eyes to slits to peek through the wires. But beyond the fence I only see more woods and trees. Maybe a field after that, but it’s hard to see.

I’m not seeing dark shadows. No body bags. My heart leaps to my throat; I’m too late.

As I’m batting away a low tree branch tickling the back of my leg, a low voice makes me stop.

“You sure know how to make that tree look good,” Marcus says, tromping toward me.

It has to be the cheesiest pickup line I’ve ever heard, but he’s here. Maybe he was looking for me. I’m lucky it wasn’t Teo or Jonas who found me.

Five or six seconds too late, I say, “Just one of my many hidden talents.” I don’t have the heart to bring up Ramus and Bee.

My timing is awful, but Marcus is quick on the uptake. “Like walking quietly in the woods at night?” He ambles closer, the sun skittering through the leaves highlighting the blues in his eyes.

I scowl. “Whatever. I was wearing the wrong kind of shoes.”
Wrong kind of shoes?

“Ah, yes,” he plants himself in front of me, “tennis shoes are terrible for walking in the woods.”

I grunt, because there’s nothing brilliant I can say to that, but a slow smile twitches Marc’s upper lip. I’m not sure how, but we’re suddenly inches apart, and I’m not entirely sure who closed the distance. We’re nearly chest to chest, and—

Dear God, why’s he so shiny? He’s sopping wet.

“Marc?” I take a step back, because there’s something wrong with him. I am hot, but not enough to get sweaty. The sweat coating his chest makes it look like he’s just stepped out of the shower. His face is dripping wet. This has to be a diabetes thing.

Marcus doesn’t move. His steaming hand holds onto the small of my back, and I don’t want to spoil this moment, but I know that I should—something’s very wrong. “Marc?” I look into his eyes. “Is your insulin working all right?”

He shrugs. Lots of shrugging from Marcus—I wonder if that’s something he picked up from all those weekends hanging out with Ramus—that indifferent side. I should tell him about my conversation with Teo and how he’s planning to get down to three couples, but Marc’s talking again and there isn’t time. In the slow, lazy way he has with telling me things, he says, “I may have exaggerated a little how much insulin I have left.”

My stomach spirals straight down. “How much do you have left?” A day or two, probably.

He shrugs again, but he doesn’t answer what I asked. Instead, he toys with one of those grenade-like seeds with his boot. Why’s he avoiding answering me? It can’t be because he didn’t hear me, and I know it’s not because he doesn’t trust me. He doesn’t have any left.

I feel my mouth working, but no sound comes out. “You ran out, didn’t you?”

There’s no way I’m bringing up the other couples now, because Marcus already has too much on his plate. He should be in a hospital, hooked up to an IV.

Marcus shrugs again. “I have a few hours left. I’m stretching it out.” I’m about done with all this shrugging. He needs to take it easy, lie down. But he also shouldn’t have lied to me. He should have told me exactly how much he had from the beginning.

“We need to find Teo, now!” I tug his hand. This is stupid, hanging out in the woods when he’s about to crash. What if he has a seizure or falls over or something? I don’t even know CPR. I can’t dial 911 or anything—

But Marcus acts like he doesn’t hear me. He smiles this goofy, close-lipped smirk. “You know,” he says, “I’m going to be dead soon, anyway. I know you think of me as just a friend, but it would mean a lot to me if we could—” He stares at my lips. If he only
knew
how badly I want to kiss him. To know if his kisses could rival Teo’s. I’m such a whack-job for even thinking about Teo right now, but some part of me responds to Teo for some reason, and I need to know if that part of me can respond to someone who
isn’t
crazy.

But we can’t kiss now. Not yet. Because he wants to kiss me like it’s his final wish or something, and that is the last thing I will ever accept—Marcus, gone. The idea ties all sorts of knots and squeezes them inside my gut. I want to kiss Marcus.
So
much. But putting my lips to his now would make it seem like I agree with him giving up. We’re
not
giving up. We need to get that insulin now.

Marcus must be reading my mind, because he kicks that rock he was toying with and says, “I know where it is.” The rock hits another tree and bounces back, rolling before it stops.

I could wrap my hands around his chiseled, sweat-caked body and toss him from these woods—straight for the houses and that insulin. Why’s he standing around? “Then show me!” I plead.

Eyes trained on the fence, Marc smiles, which looks more like a frown. “Ol ‘bino left it in the car.” But he needs his medicine now. That’s why he’s staring at the fence; he knows he needs to get out. He doesn’t need to go back to the compound. He needs Teo’s
car
. To think Teo’s SUV could be parked a few meters past the fence. If we could just slip right through it, he’d be okay.

But how does he know this, exactly? Teo never mentioned this to me. “Did Jonas tell you or something?”

Marcus laughs like I’m insulting him now. “Yep, because we’re best buds.”

I’m so not above slapping him. “How do you know that’s where the vials are?”

He rolls his eyes like I’m slow. “I heard Jonas and Teo talking about it, okay?”

I’m not real fond of his tone, but I guess it’s okay since he’s sick from having such high blood sugar—he must be carefully parsing out whatever insulin he has left. We need a plan to get the insulin, break through this fence, and I need the opportunity to get to know him more. Teo makes me feel melancholy—has always made me feel that way. But I should be with someone who makes me feel positive, happy, and I can see that Marcus would do that, but we need to save him first.

As he’s crouching to study the cement along the ground, the back of Marc’s shirt hitches up just enough that I catch a sliver of skin on his back, which isn’t as tan as Teo’s, but nice. Smooth-looking. And toned. Kneeling next to him, I stare at the mass of barbed wire blocking us from the outside and wilt a little when I remember again how Ramus’s and Bee’s body bags are gone.
Gone
. Here I’ve been checking Marcus out, and Ramus and Bee have been taken by
them
.

“What could make it click?” Marcus asks, shaking his head in frustration.

I still think it’s the remote, and I think it has to be the one in Teo’s coat. A universal remote kind of thing, only made for impending death. I just need to kiss Teo and slip it out. It’s not an idea Marcus likes, but I really don’t think we’ll come up with something better, so I say, “We’ll figure something out. If we can’t get over the fence, we could lock Teo up.”

Marcus’s upper lip twitches like he’s working hard not to be mad. Not that I blame him. Staying here has to be the last thing he wants. I don’t want it, either, and of course that’s a lousy idea since his insulin is on the other side.

Giving up on the magic button to open the fence, I sit on a flat rock on the forest floor. I don’t want to go back yet; I’d rather spend more time with Marcus in these woods. Not that I should be wasting these precious moments with him—we should be opening the fence—but Jonas’s party will be in an hour or two, and Teo will get suspicious if I cross to his side of the street. He wants to get down to
three
couples. I’d like to share this with Marcus, but that’s the last thing he needs—something else to stress over, apart from the fence and insulin.