My smile is rusty and feels out of place as I force it to my lips. I keep my hands balled up and concealed inside of Rory’s jacket so that, when I place my sleeve on his arm, I’m not actually touching him.
Though I know it’s wrong, I use his insistence that I’m just like her to my advantage?—
“Promise. Look, why don’t you head over to the school and get ready for whatever Jack’s got going on? I’ll be right there. Save me a seat?”
—because I can lie straight to his face and he’ll never see it coming.
Hope. Hope fills his expression, and he answers my smile with a dazzling one of his own. “Of course. I’ll make sure it’s the one right next to me.”
He stands there for a second longer, staring at me as if there’s something else he wants to say. Whatever it is, he changes his mind and shoots a finger gun at me before jogging off. He joins a group of guys our age that we both went to school with that are heading down the path, diving into their conversation as easily as if he were jumping into a pool.
It’s easy for him.
It’s never been that easy for me.
I watch him for a moment before deciding that, if I’m going to pretend I have to go back for something for Jack, I should probably start heading up Grove again. Once I cross over Oak Street, I bend down and untie one of my hiking boots. I count to five, re-tie my bootlace, then double-back toward the high school.
I don’t stop thinking of Chase the whole time I’m doing this. And I wish I didn’t know why.
All of our lives, there were people, places, and things that we shared, that belonged to the Holden twins together. Going ice-skating together at Mirren Park. Bowling with our old friends over in Randolph. Shopping at the mall before the lurkers turned it into a nest that got burned down last February.
Then there are those that belonged to me, or were only Hallie’s. Camping used to be my thing. Hallie had cheerleading. I spent weekends going hiking in the mountains upstate with Rory, and then going out with a different guy every couple of months.
Hallie? She always had Chase.
Chase is Hallie’s, I remind myself. And I won’t ever forget that.
Ican’t.
CHAPTER 5
Once we were a street. Grove Avenue. Just one street in a pretty stuffed New Jersey town of about one hundred thousand people.
Now, during our weekly roll call, our community can barely top four hundred. Babies are born and people die. Some can’t cut it living in our secluded community anymore. Lurkers eat the rest.
Of course, having such a small population does have its advantages. You know everyone, and usually everyone’s business, too. We have to rely on each other so trust is absolutely essential. That also means that there’s no violence in the Grave, and no crime; when the alternative is being abandoned to the lurkers, it’s surprising how well the threat turns us all into law-abiding citizens. We don’t have any concept of money. Each week we get our rations from whatever non-perishables are left at the grocery store located in the old shopping center on the corner of Ridgemond and Grove. Some of the survivors are growing fruits and vegetables in the grounds behind the church. Others make bread and sweet cakes out of the flour and sugar stores. No one goes hungry.
Some people are hunters and border patrol—like I am, and Chase—whose job it is to kill the monsters. Some are sensors, those who send out warnings to the hunters when they sense lurkers; that was Hallie. Jack’s our leader. Mrs. Baker teaches. Eddie and his group of boys are our version of law enforcement, keeping the Grave safe while extending the boundaries and securing any supplies from abandoned houses that we absorb into our settlement.
We all have our jobs here, we all have our purpose.
All of us together are the reason why we’ve survived so long. I just… I just wish Jack would let me be useful again. I’m not so naive to believe his words back in the kitchen this morning are anything but a ploy to keep me in line.
That’s what I’m thinking about. As I walk alone into the old high school, I’m stewing over how I’ve been nothing but a drain since the accident.
My eyes dart upward as I pause just inside the front doors. The motto scrawled in paint is still visible in the anteroom:enter to learn, depart to serve.
Huh, I scoff. If fucking only.
Most of Madison High is closed off, big metal gates blocking the paths that lead further into the school. No one with access or keys survived the Turning, and we only managed to break in and disengage the alarm with the help of a couple of hammers and some wire cutters.
It was worth it, though, because there are still four main areas in the center of the school that are not blocked off and very useful: the library, where we can go for peace and quiet and a good book; the gym, which doubles as an indoor playground during the day, and a place to sleep at night for those who feel safer inside; the cafeteria, where we took all of the non-perishable food and are stockpiling it for the future; and, lastly,the auditorium, the only room large enough in the Grave for everyone to assemble for meetings.
By the time I get inside, the auditorium is nearly full. I cast one quick glance around, exhaling when I can’t pick out Chase right away. Thank fucking god. I looked, don’t see him, and now I can use that as an excuse for finding my own seat.
I take one on the aisle behind the last full row. A handful of survivors follow after me, providing me with enough cover that it’s not so obvious I’m sitting on my own. I sink low in my chair anyway.
Sorry, but I’m not just avoiding Chase. I know better than to let Jack spot me before the meeting starts, either.