The Shade of the Moon (17 page)

“Let’s get to the buses,” Jon said.

Lisa nodded.

The farther they walked from the stadium, the safer Jon felt. A guard spotted them
and escorted them to the parking lot.

Jon knew Lisa and Gabe would be taken home by any of the bus drivers, but still he
was relieved when he spotted Alex. He raced to Alex’s bus, with Lisa running by his
side.

“I’ll take him,” Alex said, lifting Gabe off Jon’s shoulders. “Get in, Lisa. The bus
is full. We’ll be leaving right away.”

“Take them home,” Jon said. “Lisa can show you where.”

“Don’t worry about them,” Alex said. “Just make sure Laura’s okay.”

“She’s home,” Jon said. “She isn’t here.”

“Come on, you stinking grub!” a man shouted from the bus. “Get us out of here!”

“Check on her,” Alex said, closing the bus door and beginning the drive out of the
parking lot.

Alex worried too much, Jon told himself. The important thing was to get the other
claver women and children safely to the buses. Jon told the guard to follow him, and
the two of them ran back to the stadium a dozen or more times to rescue them from
the chaos.

Eventually Jon was satisfied that the clavers who needed help had made it to the buses.
The playing field and the bleachers were filled with bodies, some of them children’s.
One of the guards told him the bodies would be sorted, with clavers being taken back
to Sexton for burial. The grubs would be thrown into a body pit on the outskirts of
town.

“Better than they deserve,” the guard said. “They should all be thrown in, dead or
alive.”

Jon didn’t argue. Instead he walked to the locker room and showered. He was filthy
with blood and sweat, but no matter how hard he scrubbed, he still felt death all
over him.

He finished dressing and walked outside. He was hoping to see Coach or some of his
teammates, but they weren’t around. The buses were gone as well.

Jon found a guard. “Where is everyone?” he asked.

“A lot of the clavers are staying in town to teach the grubs a lesson,” the guard
replied.

“A lesson?” Jon asked, feeling like an idiot. “What kind of lesson?”

The guard laughed. “The kind even grubs won’t forget,” he said. “What happened here?
Kid’s play compared to what’s going to happen.”

Jon thought about the bum they hadn’t killed that night. He thought about Coach letting
them know they could do whatever they wanted tonight. He thought about clavers and
their guns. He thought about Alex telling him to make sure Mom was all right, and
now he understood why Alex was worried.

“Do you know White Birch?” he asked, realizing he didn’t. He knew the high school
was three miles from where Mom lived, but he had no idea how to get to her apartment.
“Broadway. Do you know how to get to Broadway from here?”

“I’d stay off Broadway if I were you,” the guard said.

The market was on Broadway. If Jon got to the market, he’d be able to find Mom’s apartment.
“Broadway,” he said. “How do I get there?”

The guard pointed. “It’s about six blocks that way,” he said. “The first traffic light
is Broadway. But it’s going to be a jungle. You armed?”

Jon shook his head.

“Stay off Broadway, then,” the guard said. “Walk the side streets, parallel.”

“I’m looking for the clinic,” he said, knowing that was in Mom’s neighborhood. “When
I get to Broadway, do I turn right or left?”

“The clinic won’t be open,” the guard said. “It’s Saturday.”

“Please,” Jon said. “Which way?”

“Left,” the guard said. “Clinic’s two or three miles from here. Why not wait for a
bus to Sexton? Go to the hospital there.”

“Left on Broadway,” Jon said. “Thanks.”

“Be careful,” the guard said. “The grubs don’t care who they kill.”

Neither do the clavers, Jon thought, but he kept quiet as he began the walk toward
Broadway. He turned left a block before the traffic light and ran down the side streets,
hearing gunshots and screams only a few yards away. Across Broadway he saw an apartment
house burning. Guards stood in front, shooting the grubs as they ran out the door.

Jon couldn’t stop the slaughter. He was caught in a human tornado, with no choice
but to run. Only when he reached a small deserted park did he pause to catch his breath.
But when he looked up, he saw a man’s body hanging from a tree, mutilated and lynched.

It’s Tyler, Jon thought, but then he told himself it couldn’t possibly be. Tyler’s
father was on the town board. No one, not even grubs driven to insanity, would kill
Tyler. The body belonged to some other claver separated from guards, from friends,
from protectors. He refused to believe it was Tyler.

Jon told himself that even with so many guards in White Birch, enough remained in
Sexton to kill any grubs trying to force their way in. Alex would bring Lisa and Gabe
home to safety. He could only hope Mom was safe as well.

Fires were burning all around him, but at Mom’s end of town Broadway seemed quiet.
Jon walked swiftly to the avenue, stepping around bodies lying in rivulets of blood.

Storefront windows were shattered, with glass everywhere. As Jon passed the market,
he saw it had been destroyed. Shelves were knocked over, whatever food there’d been,
taken. A bar of soap, he remembered. He’d left a single bar of soap for all the grubs
in the neighborhood.

Jon knew where he was now, and he ran the remaining few blocks to Mom’s apartment.
Things were quiet, but in front of Mom’s house there were three women’s bodies, their
faces slashed to ribbons.

Jon looked long enough to make certain none of them was his mother, then raced into
her building. No one had locks in White Birch. Grubs had no need for locks.

“Mom!” he screamed as he flew up the stairs to her apartment. “Mom!”

He burst into her apartment, still yelling at the top of his lungs. “Mom, where are
you?”

“Jon!” she cried, rushing into his arms. “Oh, Jonny!”

Jon held his mother as tightly as he could. “You’re all right?” he asked. “No one
hurt you?”

Mom broke away. “I hid,” she said. “When we moved here, we figured out the best places
to hide. We had drills. Alex made us.”

“He told me to come,” Jon said. “He was worried about you.”

“Is he all right?” Mom asked.

“He’s okay,” Jon said, hoping that was true. Who knew what they did to the drivers
when they reached Sexton. “Mom, we’d better get out of here. It’s safe now, but they
could come back.”

“I heard screams,” she said. “It was like the tornado. I felt so helpless.”

“I know,” Jon said. “Come, Mom. Let’s go.”

“Where?” she asked. “Where can we go? Can we go to Sexton?”

“We’ll go to the clinic,” he said, knowing even in all the madness, his mother wouldn’t
be allowed into Sexton. “It’s open today. We’ll be safe there.”

Mom nodded. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’ll be all right. Oh, Jonny, I was so scared.”

“Don’t be,” he said. “We’re all okay. Miranda’s safe in the hospital, and Alex took
Lisa and Gabe home hours ago. But we’ll be better off in the clinic. Dr. Goldman will
know what to do.”

Mom was still shaking, but she followed Jon out of the apartment and down the stairs.
There was no protecting her from the sight of the bodies, though. Mom stood in front
of them.

“Will they be buried?” she asked. “They had family in Georgia. Will anyone tell their
family?”

“No,” Jon said. “They’ll be cremated. No one will tell their family.”

“That could have been me,” she said. “If I’d lived on the first floor.”

“Don’t think about it,” Jon told her. “Let’s go.”

In the five-block walk to the clinic they saw dozens more bodies scattered around.
This was a quiet residential neighborhood, Jon thought. If it was this bad here, it
must be a hundred times worse a mile or two closer to the high school.

“What happened?” Mom asked. “What started this?”

“It was the soccer match,” he said. “It started there.”

“Soccer,” Mom said. “A war started once because of a soccer match. Did you know that?”

“No, Mom,” Jon said.

Mom sighed. “It was just an excuse,” she said. “People kill for no reason whatsoever.
That’s never going to change.”

“Things will get better,” Jon said. “You always say that, Mom.”

“No,” she said. “I’m not saying that ever again.”

They walked another block in silence until they saw a child’s body on the pavement.
Mom shook her head. “Why would anybody do that?” she said. “Slaughter a little girl.”

Jon pulled at her sleeve. “We have to keep going, Mom,” he said. “We can’t stay here.”

There were lights on in the clinic and two guards stood in front. Jon showed them
his claver ID badge. “This is my mother,” he said. “We’re friends of Dr. Goldman.”

“We’re not supposed to let anyone in,” one of the guards said, pointing his gun at
Jon.

“Put that down,” Mom said. “Hasn’t there been killing enough?”

“Mom,” Jon said. “Don’t argue with the guards. Sarah! It’s me, Jon!”

Dr. Goldman opened the door. “Jon,” he said. “Laura. Guards, it’s all right. They
can come in.”

The guards stood aside, and Jon and his mother walked into the clinic. As Dr. Goldman
closed the door, Sarah raced into the room and threw herself into Jon’s arms.

“I was so scared,” she said. “I was so afraid for you.”

“Laura,” Dr. Goldman said, “Jon. Sit down. Sarah, get them some potka.”

“No,” Mom said. “We don’t need any.”

“Yes, you do,” Dr. Goldman declared. “I’m sorry I don’t have any brandy, but the potka
will suffice.”

Sarah left the room and returned with two glasses and a bottle. She poured a tiny
amount into each glass. “Drink,” she said. “Doctor’s orders.”

Mom took a swallow and grimaced. “How can anybody drink this stuff?” she asked. “It’s
rotgut.”

“I don’t see Jon having a problem with it,” Dr. Goldman pointed out.

They turned to face Jon, who had finished his glass in two swallows.

Mom sighed. “It’s a different world,” she said, and then she burst into hysterical
laughter.

They laughed so hard, one of the guards came in to see if they were all right. “It’s
the potka,” Dr. Goldman told him.

“I could use some myself,” the guard said.

“I’m sure you could,” Dr. Goldman replied. “But not while you’re on duty.”

“Yes sir,” the guard said, and went back out.

“I hope it’s okay we came,” Jon said. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

“You did the right thing,” Dr. Goldman said. “What happened, Jon? All we know is we
were ordered to keep the door locked and not let anyone in. I’m sure there are people
who need assistance, but the guard said he’d shoot me if I left the building.”

“There was a riot at the soccer match,” Jon said. “Then the clavers decided to go
into White Birch. Everyone went crazy. I saw a lot of bodies, fires everywhere.”

“They killed my neighbors,” Mom said. “I should have tried to stop it, but I hid instead.”

“You couldn’t have stopped them, Laura,” Dr. Goldman said. “There’s no point feeling
guilty.”

“You shouldn’t feel guilty either, Daddy,” Sarah said. “If you’d gone out, you would
have been killed, too.”

“Well, we’re here,” Mom said. “What happens next? When can Jon and Sarah go home?”

“Not until tomorrow,” Dr. Goldman replied. “I called the depot to see if we could
get a driver, and they said no one’s allowed in or out of White Birch tonight. No,
we’re here for the night. I’ll call again tomorrow to see if they can get Jon and
Sarah out.”

“If you stay, I stay,” Sarah said.

“No,” Dr. Goldman said. “We don’t need guilt and we don’t need nobility. You and Jon
will go home together. Meantime, this is as safe a place as we can be. We might as
well get some sleep. Laura, why don’t you sleep on the examining table? The rest of
us can use the floor.”

“I can’t do that,” Mom said.

“Don’t worry,” Dr. Goldman said. “You’ll be just as uncomfortable as the rest of us.”

Mom climbed onto the examining table. “You sure this is all right?” she asked.

“Mom, go to sleep,” Jon said.

Mom sighed. “A son’s love,” she said. “Nothing sweeter.”

They all laughed. Then Jon, Sarah, and Dr. Goldman stretched out on the floor.

Jon reached out and touched Sarah’s hand. They were safe, he told himself. They were
protected. Whatever had happened, whatever would happen, for this night at least,
they were safe.

Sunday, July 5

“Wake up, Jon.”

Jon sat upright on the floor. His body ached all over. He was hungry and, for a moment,
confused.

“Is everyone okay?” he asked as the memories flooded back in.

Dr. Goldman smiled. “We’re fine,” he said. “But it’s time for you to get up.”

“He always was a late sleeper,” Mom said. “Even when he was little.”

At least Mom acknowledged he wasn’t little anymore. “What’s happening?” he asked.
“Does anybody know?”

“Things are better,” Sarah said. “Calmer.”