Solstice (21 page)

Two hundred and eighty-seven deaths. It’s a horrible number. I can’t help but wonder, of those two hundred and eighty-seven deaths, how many will make it to paradise.

The reporters jump on this response and begin grilling him on the details: how many died from roofs collapsing, how many died from accidents on the road. But the next question is the one everyone, including myself, has been waiting for.

“Is the disperser missile to blame for the ice storm?” the reporter asks. She stands there and stares at Rendon until he gives his reassuring smile and motions for her to sit down.

She stays standing. “We need to know, Councilman. Is it to blame?”

“Of course not,” he says. “The university has been doing tests on the missiles for months now. I’ve stated before and I’ll state again. The missiles are not the cause of the atmospheric disturbances. The missiles are helping.”

I almost laugh at his simplification of the disaster our world is in. Atmospheric disturbances. Two hundred and eighty-seven dead, and it’s a disturbance. I know he’s lying, and as I watch, I see the thick green fungus spread over his skin. Every single word coming out of his mouth is false; not even he believes them. And I think this is the kind of man who would never make it to the Elysian Fields. I watch his lies for another few minutes and then try texting my mom again. There’s still no reply, so I flip off the tube and head to bed.

When I get to school on Monday, I immediately know something’s wrong. Tension hangs in the air like black crepe at a funeral.

“Randy Conner’s dead.”

Someone whispers it in the hallway.

“What happened?” Another whisper.

“It was the ice storm.”

“The shuttle wrecked.”

“He died instantly.”

Oh my god. I had been with Randy on the shuttle. I’d talked to him just before I got off.

“Is his sister okay?” I ask. He said he was going to pick her up.

No one seems to know.

My stomach flips over, and I almost throw up. I can’t believe Randy’s really gone. Dead. And unlike Chloe, Randy will not have anyone to bring him back.

When I get to Social Sciences, I see the empty chair where Randy normally sits, and I can’t help but notice Shayne’s chair is empty, also.

Mr. Kaiser walks in and tells us what he knows. Randy Conner is dead. He’d been one of the unfortunate two hundred and eighty-seven people to die in the city this weekend. I’ll never have to worry about any more wise-cracking comments about my mom’s overprotectiveness from him. I ask about Randy’s sister, and Mr. Kaiser tells the class she is fine. She was with him when he died, and then her parents came and took her away. The funeral’s going to be held Wednesday, and anyone who wants to attend gets out of school early for the day.

I haven’t been to a funeral since sixth grade when Charlotte died.

Charlotte.

I’ve almost forgotten her.

It’s like little pieces of my time in Hell are escaping me.

And I wonder: will Randy Conner go to the Elysian Fields? Because at this moment, if I had to judge, I would say yes. He’d been taking care of his sister when he died, and if that isn’t something that deserves paradise, then I don’t know what is. I feel like that’s what the blue moss was trying to tell me.

I look again to Shayne’s chair, trying to command him to appear, but I don’t want to call his name. I want him to be there on his own. So I sit back and try to replay anything I can from the Underworld, letting it all come back to me. Mr. Kaiser lectures on everything needed to construct an underground city, but my heart’s not in the lecture. I don’t think anyone’s is.

When I leave class, I look around, hoping to spot Shayne. He’s nowhere to be found, but blood drains from my face when I see Reese, leaning against the lockers. Watching me. His head towers above the other kids milling around, and he looks like he could pick up and throw any five of them together. He looks every bit the god of war.

I can’t believe he’s the god of war.

Reese isn’t in speaking range, but he catches my eye and nods. When our eyes meet, I know he’s been standing there waiting for me. I can feel it inside me, tickling in my stomach. But he doesn’t come over to talk to me or even move for that matter. He just leans against a wall and watches.

I think of the pink flowers. He entered my room without permission. He left dying flowers as if that would impress me. But instead of the anger I should feel, all that comes to mind is the way they were arranged. They were placed one at a time by his hands, crossing over each other until a blanket had been formed. It’s like there’s a hidden side to the god of war. A side that would take the time to arrange something beautiful. It’s hard to imagine that side coexists with the one trying to take over the Underworld.

I don’t even realize a smile’s formed on my face until Reese takes a step toward me, and before my face betrays me further, I walk away. I don’t want to talk to him. Not now. Because the thought of his lips on mine is just too consuming even though I try to push it away.

I head for Study Hall. I need to talk to Chloe about everything that’s happened. She’ll help me understand what’s going on. But now that I’m thinking about it, maybe I should leave out the mention of Hell and Hades and anything three-headed or dead; I’m not really sure. But when I get to the library, she’s not there.

I figure she’s late, but five minutes later, she’s still not there. So I get out my FON and call her. Nobody answers the first time so I leave her a message, but then I dial again, and she finally picks up on the third ring.

“Piper?”

“Hey, Chloe. Where are you?”

“I’m at home.”

“It’s a school day. Are you still sick?”

Chloe seems to hesitate. “Maybe. I feel really lightheaded, Piper. My brain’s in this total funk.”

I think of Shayne’s comments on near-death experiences. About how they can change people. “I’m sure it’ll pass,” I say.

Chloe lets out a laugh that sounds like she’s about to cry. “I hope so. I keep doing really screwed up things.”

My breath catches, and I’m almost afraid to ask. “Screwed up like what?”

A pause. “Like I unplugged everything in the house yesterday.”

“That doesn’t seem so weird,” I say to minimize it, and I try to laugh.

But Chloe only sounds more frantic. “Every single thing. And then when my mom plugged everything back in, I broke the light bulbs.”

“All of them?”

“All of them,” Chloe says. “There were a hundred and thirty-four if you count the ones in the stove and refrigerator.”

“Why?” I ask.

There’s panic in Chloe’s voice. “I don’t know. It’s like I keep getting these weird urges, and I can’t control them.”

“Maybe you’re just in shock, Chloe,” I say. I’m trying to convince myself, too. “Is your mom there?”

“She just went out to fill a prescription for me,” Chloe says. “And all I want to do is get the hammer and drive nails into the mirrors.”

“Don’t, Chloe.” I glance at my watch. There’s no way I can get to her house and back before Study Hall is over, but I don’t care. “I’m coming over.”

I can almost see her shake her head. “No, Piper. I’m fine.”

I scowl even though she can’t see me. “You’re not fine. Just wait there for me.”

In the FON, I hear someone talking.

“It’s okay, Piper. My mom just got home.”

“Can I talk to her?” I ask.

Chloe actually laughs. “No. I’m fine. Really. I’ll take some medicine and take a nap, and I’m sure I’ll feel much better.”

Still, I don’t want to let it drop. “Can I come by later?”

“How about I call you, Piper?”

“I could just stop by after school,” I say.

Chloe blows out a breath. “I’ll be asleep. Seriously.”

“Are you sure?”

“Totally. Anyway, I gotta go.”

At least her mom is there which is some consolation. She should be able to keep Chloe from doing anything destructive. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” I say.

“Yeah,” Chloe says. “Tomorrow.” And she disconnects.

At least Chloe is alive.

My mom doesn’t come back that day. Nor does she call me or text me or anything. I must call her and text her twenty times, but I don’t get any response. And other than that I have no idea how to reach her. She didn’t even tell me where she was going. And I wonder if somehow, by wishing she’d go away forever, I’ve made her do just that. Though I know I should miss her, the emptiness of the Botanical Haven fills me with freedom. And if she never comes back, I know I’ll have this freedom forever. I’m a horrible daughter for feeling this way, but my feelings persist.

My heart sinks Tuesday when I walk into Social Sciences. Shayne’s still not there. I stare at his chair for probably the entire hour, wondering when he’ll decide to show up. But wondering doesn’t help. Mr. Kaiser spends the lecture talking about alternatives to the missiles and underground groups that are fighting against the city, but the class feels dead; I don’t even want to listen, but I force myself to.

He starts with a list like he always does. I manage to come up with the Japanese air diverter option, and someone else mentions the reverse tornadoes they’ve been dreaming up in South America. But I swear for each item listed, Mr. Kaiser has at least three reasons why it does more harm than good. Finally, I can’t take it anymore.

“So what’s your solution then?” I ask. All he does day after day is give us a million reasons why nothing will work.

Mr. Kaiser sets the orange dry erase marker down and leans back on his desk. “For starters, we stop everything we’re doing.”

“Everything?” someone says.

“Everything.” He points at the list. “Let’s imagine that none of these tactics had ever been tried. Where would Earth be then?”

“Dead?” someone suggests, and I have to admit it’s a valid point. One severe heat bubble and our entire city would have been wiped out.

“Not so.” Mr. Kaiser slams his fist down on the desk. “That’s exactly the kind of propaganda the city council has been feeding you. But who’s to say the heat bubbles would even still be a threat?”

“Councilman Rendon,” I say. He’d say the bubbles would still be around.

“Right,” Mr. Kaiser says. “Councilman Rendon and others like him will continue doing anything and everything they can without enough long-term experimentation. And when they keep it up, the only viable solution will be for everyone to move underground.”

Underground. I actually have to suppress a smile at this. We’ll be underground one way or the other. Either everyone will be dead and in the Underworld, or everyone will be alive and living in an underground city. Like somehow the worlds will be merged no matter what happens.

At least Chloe’s in Study Hall. She’s at our table when I get there, and I pull out my chair, dropping my backpack on the ground.

“How are you?”

She’s wearing a red bandana today, crisp and ironed, like she’s taken extra care in making sure it’s folded perfectly. She looks up, and I notice how pale her face still is. But worse, her skin seems to carry a thin layer of yellow mucus just like the pomegranate tree. It stays there even when I blink.

“My mom told me I was sick.”

I smile and try to get her to relax. “Yeah. It was the heat.”

Chloe shakes her head. “That’s what my mom told me. But I don’t remember it. It’s like the last three days have been a blur.”

I decide not to bring up our FON conversation from yesterday. Maybe if she doesn’t remember breaking light bulbs, it’s for the best. I take her hands, and the second we touch, the mucus disappears. But her hands feel like dead, clammy fish in mine. “But you’re better now. That’s what matters.”

But even as I say it, Tanni’s haunting words telling me
Chloe will die
slam into me so hard the air is punched out of my stomach.

But Chloe didn’t die. She’s here in front of me. She’s cheated death, and Tanni’s horrible words will never come to pass.

I realize my face has frozen into a frown, and I’m sure Chloe’s going to call me out on it, but she doesn’t seem to notice.

“Is your mom back yet?” Chloe’s words snap me back to the present.

I shake my head. “It’s weird. She hasn’t called or anything.” And even though my mom and I have our differences, another day has passed, and the thought of her being gone forever has started to grow a lead anchor of guilt in the pit of my stomach.

Chloe purses her lips together. “So no word from your father?”

“Not since the note.” Of course, with my mom gone this long, maybe she’s convinced my father to give up. Or maybe he’s abducted her and is coming for me next.

“Maybe she won’t come back,” Chloe says.

I laugh, but then stop when I see Chloe’s not smiling. “Yeah, maybe.”

“What would you do, Piper?”

I know the answer—at least what I’d want to do. I’d go back to the Underworld. But now, a few days later, it seems unreal. Like it almost didn’t happen. I decide now’s as good a time as any to start telling Chloe everything that’s happened, but I’m not sure how to start. “Well, I’d wear really bright colors every day,” I say. “Like red.”

Chloe smiles and tugs at the ends of her bandana. “Red is the color of blood.”

My face freezes. “Yeah. It is.” It seems like a whacked-out comment. “And cherries,” I add.

“Blood reminds me of death.”

Chloe will die.
Tanni’s words. I ignore them.

Chloe tents her fingers in front of her face. “Remember when you asked me about fate, Piper?”

I nod. “Sure.” I push Tanni’s words away.

“I don’t think someone can escape fate,” she says.

Chloe did. Shayne had given me a choice, and I’d saved her. And she’d cheated fate. Stayed alive. “They can, Chloe.” But even as I say it, it strikes me as false. Like I’m lying to her and myself all at the same time.

“There’s a funeral tomorrow,” Chloe says.

I nod. “Randy Conner. Are you going?”

“I want to see it,” she says. Which is a weird reason for wanting to go to a funeral.

“Why?”

“I want to see the people.” And then she grabs my own hands back with such force, my pinkie finger feels crushed against the rest of my hand. “Do you ever wonder what someone would say at your funeral?” She looks at me, and it’s the first time today her eyes meet mine and really see me.