Gated (5 page)

“What’s the last movie you watched?”

“The
Day After Tomorrow
and
The Terminator
. Last weekend. Double feature. You know—‘Are you Sarah Connor?’ ” I try to say the last part with the proper accent, but it comes out sounding utterly corny. Cody laughs, though, and once my initial embarrassment wears off, I join him.

“Wow, okay, those are good examples, albeit
old
, of movies with visual effects.
Day After Tomorrow
’s a little more current, though. I’m hoping to be one of the guys who makes characters like the Terminator look realistic. So, you don’t go to the movies while they’re in the theater?”

“We don’t leave Mandrodage Meadows very often,” I say, and hope he’ll let it go at that.

“I kind of knew that,” he says quietly. “You like to keep to yourselves out here, don’t you?”

“Something like that.” I look away. “Ready for your
tour? I’m afraid it won’t be overly interesting.” I’m anxious to get started and focus on a less dangerous topic.

“Really? ’Cause I’m convinced that it’ll be
very
interesting,” Cody says, and winks at me. “You guys are kind of a hot topic in town. It’ll be nice to finally see for myself where you’re hiding the dead bodies and child brides.”

“Excuse me?” I stop walking and stare at him.

His grin widens. “You have to know that people think you’re some kind of crazy cult out here. It’s a small town. You’ve been coming into town and leaving again like ghosts on and off for years. We’re the closest town to you and none of us even know exactly how many of you there are out here. It’s only natural that folks’ll start thinking you’re up to no good.”

I don’t know what to say. I walk ahead a little and wrap my arms around myself. “It’s not like that. We like to live simply, that’s all. There’s nothing interesting here unless you count farm animals and gardens as gossip-worthy. And for the record, no one who lives here is under fifteen and the only married people are way past their teens—trust me, there aren’t any child brides.”

Cody’s smile fades. “Hey, I didn’t mean to make you mad, really. I was trying to be funny.”

“Well, you weren’t,” I grumble.

He looks so disappointed that I immediately soften. “Forget about it. It’s fine. Let’s just get started.”

I take Cody to the clubhouse first and show him the
pool, our lessons room, and the room where we eat most of our meals together. Then we head over to the corrals. Only the animals are there, watching us with mildly curious faces as they munch on their feed. I wonder if Cody notices that there aren’t any other people around.

ȁ Cstiy munch C;Sheep, pigs, and goats, fascinating,” Cody says dryly. He turns and looks in the opposite direction, his eyes resting on the dirt road that leads to the apple orchards. “So, what’s down there?” He starts moving toward it.

He can’t go down there. Even with the truck blocking the road further in, if he gets too close he might see the Silo’s entrance. Before he gets far, out of desperation I grab his arm and loop my own through the crook of his elbow. It feels really, really bizarre to be this close to him, an Outsider. I can feel the curve of his forearm under my fingers—a bit smaller and leaner than Will’s. My stomach flutters and my face gets hot. He looks down at my arm and then at me. He raises one eyebrow at me. Marie is better at this type of thing than I am. I have no idea how to flirt effectively. I paste on what I hope is a friendly (but not too friendly) smile. “There’s just a bunch of apple trees and old farm equipment back there. Come inside the stable. Please, I want to introduce you to someone.”

Cody looks at the orchard one last time, but allows me to lead him past the corrals and into the stable. One by one, the horses look up as we pass. Their ears flick back and forth. One or two poke their noses out into the walkway between the stalls. Cody leans in closer to me each
time, and our shoulders keep touching as we walk. Every time it happens I get the same thrill inside my chest. This boy is making me nervous, and I don’t think it’s because he might see something on our tour that he shouldn’t.

I look up at him, trying to see if it’s happening to him too, but his face is pinched and uncertain.

“What?” I ask. I’m surprised at how disappointed I am that he doesn’t seem to notice the strange tension between us.

He won’t look at me now. His eyes are glued to the stalls on his side of the stable and the horses inside them. “Um, I’m not exactly a big fan of these guys,” he says, and his face goes pink.

“Really? Why?” I stop just before Indy’s stall and drop Cody’s arm. Cody stays in the middle of the walkway. He still won’t turn fully to face me.

It hits me then. “You’re afraid of them,” I say slowly. I have to work at keeping my face straight because I have a feeling I’ll really embarrass him if I start smiling—or worse—laughing.

“Not afraid exactly … just not a fan,” he says.
He
is
scared of them
. I shake my head and try to process this. This boy is quite possibly stranger than I thought he’d be. But his fear makes me feel better, less nervous.

I turn toward Indy’s stall and grin.
Wait till I tell Marie about this
. Indy’s already by the door, his neck straining out into the walkway toward me.

“Hey, big guy, how’s your morning going?” I coo at
him, and he puts his head into my shoulder and leaves it there—the closest thing to a hug hello that he can manage.

I can feel Cody watching me, watching us. My fingers start to tremble in Indy’s mane. Cody’s eyes on me have every part of my body on high alert, but I’m not scared. In fact, I think I like it. I look back at him and try to be calm. “They’re really gentle, you know. And smart. So, so smart.” I run my hand across the top of Indy’s head, let my fingers toy gently with one ear. He moves his head up and down against my shoulder.

“This is C201entIndy. He’s mine. We kind of grew up together. He’s about the gentlest horse there is. If you come say hello to him, I promise he’ll behave. It’s impossible to be scared by this guy.” I hug his head.

Cody’s still in the same spot, but his face isn’t as tense. The corners of his mouth are turned up into the beginnings of a smile. “He really loves you, doesn’t he?” he says.

“Not nearly as much as I love him.” I plant a kiss on the blaze running down the center of Indy’s face. “He’s a better listener than anyone else I know. And he’s easy to please. Give him a carrot and take him for a ride and he’s ecstatic.” I can’t help thinking about target practice yesterday. “He never expects anything more than that.” I realize that I’m not smiling anymore and that Cody’s looking at me strangely all of a sudden. I chew on my lip and try to quickly pull myself together.

“Come here.” I motion for him to get closer to Indy and me.

“I don’t know …,” he begins.

“He’ll be sweet, I promise.”

Cody still looks skeptical, but he inches toward me anyway. I’m not sure if it’s because I was that convincing or if it’s just that he doesn’t want to seem like a giant wimp. Either way, he ends up next to me. I take his hand and put it to Indy’s nose. I can sense more than see him smiling at me.

“Feel that. Isn’t it the softest thing ever?”

Indy doesn’t hesitate. He buries his nose in Cody’s hand, happy to have so much attention. Cody stiffens and I let out a little laugh as Indy moves a little closer to Cody and nuzzles his Ferris shirt, leaving a wide smudge of slobber and dirt across his chest. Cody makes a face and we both burst out laughing at the same time.

By the time we say goodbye to Indy and leave the stable, I’m feeling less wary. Indy doesn’t warm up to just anybody. He never nuzzles Will. I try not to read anything into that. All I know for sure is that Cody’s funny and nice and I’m having more fun than I’ve had in a while.

We walk in silence at first, but Cody doesn’t let it last long. He launches into a story about his first time around horses, when his mom put him on the back of one to take a picture and it took off running. He was stuck holding on for dear life until it ran itself out. It was probably terrifying for him, but he makes it sound hilarious instead. I watch him talk, the way his hands move as he does. There’s something almost painful about being around him. He makes
me so nervous that I can barely stand still. I’m pretty sure that I’m smiling way too much and laughing way too loud. Still, I can’t stop myself, and even stranger, I don’t want to. I look for the evil that has to be lurking just underneath the surface, but all I see is a boy … and an extremely cute boy at that.

“How long have you lived here?” he asks.

“Ten years.”

“And you’ve been to Culver Creek before? Because I’m sure I’ve never seen you there.”

“Yes. We all take turns getting some of the supplies we need, like clothes and batteries and stuff,” I say. “But since there’s so many of us and not enough trucks for us to take to town all at once, we only go twice a month. My family’ Cami1C;But sins only been to town about once or twice a year since we moved here.”
What am I doing? SHUT UP, blabbermouth!

“And I thought I had it bad. How do you cope with being stuck here all the time? I think I’d go out of my mind.”

“I don’t really think about it.” I don’t add that Mandrodage Meadows has always felt the opposite of confining when compared with our future living quarters in the Silo … or that Culver Creek always feels too large and dangerous. So many Outsiders and there’s no way of knowing which ones pose the biggest threat, which ones might do one of us harm, like the person who took Karen.

He’s walking close enough to me that we keep touching shoulders again. I can smell his cologne or shampoo—it’s
citrusy and spicy at the same time. I like it. I wonder what he thinks of me. I’m liable to smell like hay and horse manure after this morning’s ride—not nearly as pleasant a combination as his is. I put a little space between us.

I show him everything but the orchards. He doesn’t seem to care when we pass the road that leads into them without stopping. We finish up by the pond and settle into the grass to wait for his father. I’m surprised we’ve been left alone this long. A few other members of the Community are out in the garden, and there were a few others by the stables, but mostly the entire place feels quiet, almost deserted. I wonder if he’s noticed and thinks it’s strange. I’d half expected Marie to ambush us somewhere along the way. It’s not like her to stay away—not that I’m complaining. She would’ve taken over the tour and I’d have been left to tag along behind her. It’s been nice not to be part of her background for a change.

“So, unless you’re on a supply run, you never leave …” His voice trails off.

“Right,” I say, and chuck a rock into the water. It was really stupid of me to tell him all of that. We both watch the rock skip across the surface three times before it sinks.

“Nice.” He grins. “But I can beat that.”

I watch as he gathers up a handful of rocks and then chooses one to throw. It skips twice and disappears. I smile.

“Okay, best out of three,” he says, and then, after his second throw is equally unsuccessful, “I guess you can’t get some kind of special permission to leave any other time?”

“Special permission for what?” I ask, and he looks shy for the first time since he’s gotten here.

“I don’t know, maybe to hang out … with me?” He smiles and my mouth drops open. I’ve messed up. I’ve been too nice and gotten myself into trouble once again.

“I can’t,” I say quickly, and take a step away from him.

“I sort of figured, but it didn’t hurt to ask.” His lips curl slightly into a half smile. He chucks the last rock. This one doesn’t even skip once. It just sinks.

He doesn’t look at me right away and I feel awkward and squirmy. For some reason I feel the need to explain myself. It bothers me that he looks a little hurt by my answer, but there’s no way to do this without giving away too much or completely insulting him in the process.
Gee, I think you’re really, really cute and all, but I can’t go because you’re an Outsider C ancesand probably have the potential for serious evil and I’m chosen and pure and about to enter a shelter that’ll keep me safe while the world implodes and you die. No hard feelings?

“Kind of seems like you’re trapped here, Lyla. Are you?” Cody tilts his head and studies me.

“No, I like it here,” I say automatically.

I’m not supposed to feel trapped here, but now, in this moment—and if I’m honest, more and more all the time—I do, I can’t help myself. I
am
trapped. For good reason, sure, but trapped all the same. But it isn’t like any of us can really change our minds and move away from here. We have no money of our own, nowhere to go. And
it doesn’t make much sense to even consider it, since the world is about to end. Still, I can’t help wishing that I could go out with Cody and maybe see what a kiss feels like when Will’s not on the other end of it … but this kind of wishing is foolish and I can’t indulge it.

“Lyla.” Pioneer’s standing by the picnic tables with the sheriff and the other man. He looks irritated and ready to be rid of our guests. Cody’s father hands a piece of paper to Pioneer, and Pioneer nods and puts it in his front shirt pocket. I stand up and brush the grass from my shorts. Cody gets up more slowly and stretches.

“It was nice to meet you,” I say loudly in a more formal tone than I used when we were alone. And then I surprise myself, lean closer to him and whisper something I know I shouldn’t.

“You know, my family’s assigned to the next supply run into town this Saturday.” I can’t quite look at him afterward.
What am I doing?

He shoots me a sidelong glance and a slow smile spreads across his face, lighting up his gray-green eyes. “Maybe we’ll run into each other. Could happen … especially if I have a general idea of where you’re going to be.”

My breath quickens. I can feel his smile becoming contagious and I return it with one of my own. “We’ll probably be at Walmart for most of the morning.”

“I happen to love that store. Where else can you get a haircut, goldfish, and camping gear all at the same time?”

He winks at me and I have to clamp my mouth shut to
keep from laughing. I’ve never felt so reckless. It’s terrifying, but exhilarating too. I look over to where the adults are standing. Pioneer is watching us now, so I force myself to sober up.