Zip (6 page)

She forced herself to go faster, rolling beneath the tall evergreens, hoping they’d shield her from the wind. While she rode, she fantasized about the warmth of the bus depot Maybe when she got there, she’d find a place where she could get a cup of hot chocolate.

The bus depot was not far from Michael’s. Even so, by the time Lyssa turned the corner into the parking lot, her fingertips were blue from the cold and her braids were plastered to the back of her neck. She had to squint to see just a few feet in front of her. Lightning shot across the sky, illuminating the parking lot

There wasn’t a single bus parked next to the long, squat building. All the windows were dark

She had never considered that the bus depot might be closed. Buses ran all the time, didn’t they?

She started toward the front door and was only three feet away when something large and furry jumped down in front of her. She stopped short, gasping

It was a cat. Its black fur was wet and matted and two of its whiskers were missing, making its face look a little lopsided. When it saw Lyssa, all the fur on its back stood on end

Lyssa froze in place. Fear crawled into her gut. Black cats meant the worst luck

“Easy, kitty,” she breathed

With a final hiss, the cat darted into the shadows. Pushing her anxiety aside, Lyssa ran up to the front door and jiggled the handle: locked

There was a note taped inside the door but rainwater fogged up the glass, and Lyssa had to wipe off the panes with the sleeve of her sweatshirt before she could read it. It said:

“No!” Lyssa shouted, banging her fist against the door. How could they close the entire bus depot just because of a silly storm? Already luck was against her. It was the black cat’s fault!

“Tell me what to do, Mom,” she whispered. She wrapped her arms around her chest, hoping for a sign. She’d never been afraid of sleeping outside before—but then again, it never stormed like this in Texas. When she and Ana went camping, they’d gather a bunch of blankets and pillows and head to the fairgrounds, building a tent behind the game stands and watching the lights of the fair and the stars twinkle through the holes in the blankets. The stars always twinkled a little brighter when Ana Lee was around, almost like they were trying to show off. They would build a fire, heat up cocoa and s’mores, and sometimes the circus clowns would join them, telling stories until Lyssa fell asleep.

A fat finger of rain drew itself down Lyssa’s back and she shivered. She hopped up and down a few times to try to get warm. She had to move. If she stayed out here all night, she’d get hypothermia—or
drown
. She needed to find a shelter where she could hide out until the depot opened again, somewhere warm and dry where she could get some sleep.

“Think, Lyssa, think,” she whispered. She closed her eyes and tried to
visualize a solution
, like her mom had taught her to do. She wasn’t far from the Lake Washington, and right next to that was…

“The marina,” she said out loud, her eyes popping open. Michael had once pointed out all the boats, explaining that people tied them up to the dock at night so they wouldn’t float away. Lyssa remembered thinking how much more fun it would be to live on a boat

She leapt to her feet and jumped on her scooter, kicking off into the rain. There were always hundreds of boats docked by the marina. All she’d have to do was hide belowdecks on one of them and curl up for the night. Then, at seven o’clock sharp, she’d board a bus for Texas.

Lyssa sped down the wet sidewalk. Water arced on either side of Zip as the front wheel cut through the deep puddles. Soon, she consoled herself, she’d be dry, rocking to sleep on a boat, dreaming of adventure

Lake Washington was the color of steel, so dark and
stormy that Lyssa almost couldn’t separate it from the angry bruised sky above. The marina was on a piece of rocky land right next to the water. The long arms of the docks stretched out from the shore, and the sailboats and yachts crowded around them like thick clusters of fingers. A few lights blinked on and off from the streetlamps above, flooding the marina in eerie, orange light

Lyssa slowed her scooter. The wind made twisting spirals in the water and caused it to crash over the side of the docks. Boats rocked on angry-looking swells

Taking a deep breath, she started down one of the docks, pushing Zip with one hand. There were so many boats here—there had to be at least one she could hide out on.

But every boat was covered in thick tarp and secured with ropes and padlocks. Lyssa scurried onto one of the few uncovered boats and tried to open the door leading belowdecks. Locked

The wind cut into her skin, letting cold seep all the way to her bones. She hadn’t considered that people would actually
lock
their boats. She climbed back onto the dock and wandered past the boats, trying a few more doors to see if, maybe, one of them had been left open. None of them were.

There was nowhere else to go, and nothing to do but return to the bus depot. Lyssa supposed she could curl up
near the door, underneath the little ledge that shielded from the rain. It would be cold and miserable—already Lyssa’s fingers were numb—but at least she’d be the first person at the depot when it opened. She thought about huddling near the door, holding her sweatshirt over her head to shield herself from the rain. Maybe, if she dreamt of Texas, she wouldn’t be so cold

Then she saw something glitter on the dock, barely visible beneath the water running over the wood. Curious, she leaned over to examine it

It was a small, silver key—too small to belong to a house, and not quite the right shape for a car. Maybe it was a key to one of the boats? Lyssa leaned over to scoop it up when something small and furry streaked out in front of her. She stumbled backward, landing hard on the dock. Her scooter clattered to the ground next to her

Sitting on the dock in front of her was the black cat with the lopsided whiskers. Licking its front paw, it cocked its head, as though challenging her

Goose bumps rose on Lyssa’s arms—it felt like someone was pinching her skin with a tiny pair of tweezers. That cat was
following
her. Pushing herself to her feet, Lyssa searched the dock for the key. But it was gone. The cat must have pawed it out of the way when it streaked past her.

“Where did the key go?” Lyssa demanded. “What did you do with it?”

The cat looked at her and blinked, all innocence. It flicked its tail, seeming to point at the frothing water below. Lyssa’s heart sank. Even though she knew it was hopeless, she leaned over the side of the dock and thrust one hand in the waves, aimlessly groping around in the water for the key. She leaned over so far that she nearly tumbled into the waves, catching herself at the very last minute

That’s when she heard it—a low rumbling, like a distant car engine. Shielding her eyes with her free hand, she tried to blink away the rain. She pulled her other arm out of the waves, sitting back on her heels

The noise got louder and she watched as a bright blue remote-controlled boat shot out from between the yachts. Who would be playing with a toy boat tonight, in the middle of a storm?

She looked up and down the dock but saw no one. The little boat swayed in the angry waves, heading for the dock at the very end of the marina. Just before it ducked out of view, Lyssa saw something glitter on its tiny deck: the key

The boat bobbed on the water, then disappeared behind a sailboat. She jumped onto her scooter and tore after it

L
yssa raced after the toy boat, watching helplessly as it disappeared behind the dock near the end of the marina. She sped across the maze of docks until she reached the place she’d seen the toy boat vanish; then, dropping to her knees, she leaned over the side of the dock and searched the water below. The water was shallower here, and it crashed against rocky land underneath the warped wooden planks of the dock. But the boat wasn’t there. It and the key had simply vanished.

Groaning, Lyssa sat back up. She’d dropped Zip on the dock next to her and now it was speckled with rain, looking just as miserable as Lyssa felt

“Sorry,” Lyssa muttered to her scooter, patting the handlebars. One of the silver pompoms was missing—it must’ve fallen off at some point

Rain beat down on her forehead, and just beneath the sound of the howling wind, Lyssa could almost hear laughter. It was like the universe thought her bad luck was some funny joke

The laughter started up again, louder this time. It
wasn’t
her imagination—it sounded like it was coming from directly beneath her. She crawled back to the edge and peeked over, grabbing the side of the dock to steady herself.

Directly underneath the dock, and sheltered from the rain, the waves gave way to a dry, rocky ledge scattered with furniture: patched armchairs, a coffee table with three legs, and several rows of sturdy-looking army cots. Televisions and speakers were stacked one on top of another, like Roman columns, each showing a different image. Everywhere Lyssa looked, remote-controlled toys buzzed through the air like bees. Toy cars zigzagged among the furniture, toy boats ducked in and out of the waves next to the ledge, and there were even toy helicopters hovering in the air around the television towers. The buzzing sound of all the motors together was kind of like techno music.

Lyssa had to bite her lip to keep from laughing out loud. It was
amazing
. She leaned over a little farther. This
place was like a giant secret clubhouse. She craned her neck to get a better look, and that’s when she saw them: a group of a dozen or so teenagers scattered throughout the space, each fixated on a different television set.

Lyssa couldn’t help grinning. She and Penn used to spy on their old babysitter back when they were little, but she hadn’t done anything more interesting than call her boyfriend. Maybe these teenagers were runaways, too

The girl nearest Lyssa sat in a beanbag chair. She had short, spiky hair, small eyes, and a beaky-looking nose

“Demo, turn the volume up,” the bird-like girl said without looking away from the TV

“What’re those dangly things hanging off your body, Regina? Oh, right—
legs
,” a boy—Demo—said, but he walked over to one of the televisions and turned a knob. He had broad shoulders and black hair that he’d gelled up in the center to look like a mohawk. A few of the other kids groaned and threw popcorn at him as he walked between them and the television screens.

Lyssa scooted farther over the edge, wishing she could get a closer look, like when she would wander around the fair, spying on the clowns as they put on their makeup. Just as she was trying to get a good grip on the wood, her fingers slipped and she toppled over the ledge. Waves rushed toward her and she let out a yelp and squeezed her eyes shut…

…and suddenly she was no longer falling. Easing her eyes open, Lyssa saw that the water was inches from her nose. She was suspended in midair. It was like her mom had grabbed her by her back pocket to keep her from tumbling into the water, just like she used to do whenever Lyssa teetered over the edge of the stage at the fair as a toddler

But when Lyssa looked up, she saw that it wasn’t her mom, but a toy helicopter the size of a bald eagle holding her up by the seat of her jeans

“Intruder,” screeched an electronic voice from the helicopter. “Intruder!”

Regina and the other teenagers stayed facing the televisions, but the boy named Demo leapt to his feet. “Hey—” he shouted, racing toward her

Lyssa tried to wriggle free, but the helicopter held her tight. Terror clogged Lyssa’s throat

“Don’t come any closer. I know karate,” Lyssa lied, holding her arms out in front of her so that her hands were straight and flat, like blades. It was a little difficult to do since she was still upside down, but she didn’t want Demo thinking she was helpless. “And…and my mom’s a cop. She knows where I am and…”

Demo motioned to the helicopter. It buzzed down to the ledge and deposited Lyssa on the ground. She awkwardly climbed to her feet

“Cop, huh?” Demo said
cop
like it was a dirty word. “You a rat?”

Lyssa could have kicked herself. If they were runaways, she shouldn’t have mentioned the cops

“No,” she said honestly. “I just didn’t want you to think I was here on my own. But I am. On my own, I mean. My mom’s not really a cop,” she added. “She’s a musician.”

Demo’s face relaxed a little, but he still didn’t look like he believed her. “Prove it.”

Lyssa looked past Demo to where the rest of the teenagers were sitting. It seemed strange that none of them had even glanced up to see what was going on; they all were too distracted by whatever was on television. One of them took a swig from a green water bottle that looked just like Lyssa’s purple one, which gave Lyssa an idea

“Oh.” Lyssa tugged her backpack off her shoulder and dug around inside

“Here,” she finally said, pulling out her water bottle. She turned the bottle around until she found the picture she was looking for—the sticker for her mom’s old band. “See? That’s my mom, with the accordion.”

“She does kind of look like you…” Demo muttered, squinting down at the picture. Lyssa felt a flicker of warmth in her stomach. Her mom had been beautiful—tall and elegant, with hair the color of sunflower petals.
Except for their height, Lyssa didn’t think they had much in common

“Commercial break,” the bird girl—Regina—yelled from her beanbag chair. One by one, all of the teenagers turned around in their seats until everyone was staring right at Lyssa. The television towers flashed bright commercial lights behind them, making their faces look shadowy

“Who’re you?” a curly-haired boy asked

“What’re you doing here?” Regina asked, cocking her head to one side

Even though Lyssa was sopping wet, her mouth suddenly got very dry. Her mom used to say she could talk her way through anything. Once, at the fair, Lyssa convinced the manager to rig the Heinous Hurricane so that it went at triple speed by claiming that the plan had magically appeared to her in a grilled cheese sandwich. And maybe Lyssa
had
kind of thought the universe was trying to speak to her through her grilled cheese sandwiches for a while. But that wasn’t really the point. Either way, now she felt shy.