Quaranteen: The Loners

  P-Nut lounged on a brass-buttoned green leather couch. He had all sorts of angular designs shaved into his short black hair. The bikini girl sat next to him, and there was another hot girl curled up on P-Nut’s other side, with a shaved head.

  P-Nut smiled at Will. He was a white kid, but somehow he maintained a light tan when none of them had seen the sun in more than a year. Will heard he was part Native American. He always looked like he’d just come back from vacation. Maybe that’s why the girls liked him. Or maybe it was because he was always smiling. Whatever it was, they liked him. And he liked them back. P-Nut was known as the horniest guy in school.

  P-Nut got up and sat on Principal Warfield’s huge oak desk, which was covered with hand-drawn stickers. Behind him, numerous photos of Principal Warfield, some with his family, one with the mayor, hung on the wall, but they had been rehung upside down. P-Nut swung his legs casually back and forth and sized up Will. Will shifted his weight, self-conscious.

  Will cleared his throat.

  “My name’s Will Thorpe.”

  “I know who you are. You’re the one who broke my board.” The bikini girl whispered something into P-Nut’s ear.

  “Bummer,” P-Nut said.

  P-Nut sat down and grabbed the microphone for the school’s public address system from the center of the desk.

  He pressed the button at its base; Will could hear different sets of loudspeakers squawk to life in the distance.

  “Hello, kiddies, this is P-Nut. Got some breaking news.

  David Thorpe has been caught by the Nerds. The turkey hunt is off. If you’re hungry, you might want to think about eating your shoes.”

  P-Nut let go of the button, and the speakers went quiet. He looked back to Will again.

  “So what did you want?” P-Nut said.

  “I’ll get to that. But first . . .”

  Will pulled his smut phone from his pocket.

  “Do you like Freak girls?”

  P-Nut smiled.

  37

  It was all food. A hillside of food. It cascaded down the bleachers. This was Varsity’s greatest achievement, a symbol of their power in McKinley.

  David watched the food in this brief, tranquil moment. As gruesome as his hallucinations had been, they could also be awe-inspiring. The food flowed down the hillside and disappeared once it touched the gym floor, like a giant fountain.

  Occasionally, some of it would spout up into the air in a kalei-doscope of color. It was beautiful. He would have been content to stare at it until his time ran out.

  Heavy ropes tied David to the front of a football tackling sled. His hands were bound behind him. The ropes bit him under the ribs. The dummy cushioning on the sled had been torn away so that his back lay flat against metal bars. His

  whole body was tilted forward so he had to struggle to lift his heavy head if he wanted to see what was coming at him.

  David dragged his head up. At the other end of the gym, Anthony Smith was down in a three-point stance. Other guys lined up for their turn. Anthony broke into a run, straight for David. With his first step, it looked to David like he was a mile away. With the next step, a quarter mile, then fifty feet. David closed his eye and wondered if this was the last hit he would take; if Anthony would smash into him and lung muck would rocket out of his mouth.

  David snapped his eye open. Anthony was right there, running at full speed. His shoulder rammed into David’s chest with all the momentum of his run. Vicious, worming pain dug its roots down into David’s chest. He lost all of his air. David’s vision went crimson, as if the ceiling had bled on everything in the gym. He heard the gritty rasp of the tackling sled as it scraped across the wood floor. It skidded to a stop. Anthony pushed off David and let out a victory scream. He raised his fists. The Pretty Ones cheered.

  “That was for Brad,” Anthony said with a slap to David’s chin, and jogged away.

  David took in air. The red faded from his vision. He stared at a white candy wrapper on the varnished maple floor. The white wrapper tumbled across the floor and then flitted up, caught by a breeze. It twirled and blew away. He could feel the cool breeze on his face.

  “You’re okay,” a voice said.

  David looked up. Lucy stood before him. The breeze was coming from her. Her dress was clean and luminescent, the color of moonlight. She laughed, but he couldn’t hear it. Her smile crinkled the skin under her eyes. David loved that. He wanted to know what she was laughing at.

  “I’m back in your room,” Lucy said. “I’m waiting for you . . .

  naked.”

  She smiled again. David felt blood drip out of his mouth as a goofy grin spread across his face.

  A sprinting linebacker in a scuffed football helmet ran right through Lucy. She burst into a thousand shreds like confetti. David felt his chest collapse. The pain dug through him. His world went red again. The sled scraped. He heard the linebacker grunt then walk away.

  He’d never see Lucy again. He knew that now. It wasn’t that he didn’t care about living anymore. It was that he couldn’t care. He had no fight left in his body, and he was in Sam’s world now. The game was over. Sam won.

  “That’s enough,” Sam said.

  David rocked his head right, his eyelid heavy. Sam was sitting on a folding chair, getting his hair redyed yellow by a Pretty One. He was watching David. He pushed the girl away as she dried his hair. David heard another Varsity come running from the other side of the gym, feet clomping on the hard floor. Sam stood, still wearing the towel around his neck

  from the dye job.

  “I said enough!”

  The clomping slowed to a stop, and the line of would-be tacklers dispersed. Sam dragged his folding chair out in front of David. David breathed through the discomfort. Sam casually sat down in front of him. He stared at David and considered him as if he was a piece in a museum.

  “Why didn’t you kill me?” Sam asked.

  “What?” David replied.

  “Back on the quad. When all your Scraps were trying to tear me apart, you stopped them. Why’d you do that?”

  “Why?” David said. “I don’t know, I felt bad for you.”

  “You felt bad?” Sam asked.

  Sam scrunched his face up. He was flabbergasted.

  “What would it have proved?” David asked.

  “Proved? It wouldn’t have proved anything. It would have gotten rid of me. You had to know I wouldn’t stop, that I’d keep coming for you.”

  “I’d already won,” David said. “It seemed . . . too cruel.” Sam scoffed. “That’s a loser’s attitude if I’ve ever heard one.

  Guess you’re regretting that one now, huh?” Sam smiled then looked upset when David didn’t react.

  “What do you want from me, Sam?”

  “I don’t want anything from you. Look around. I have it all.” Pain flared through David’s head. His patience for whatever little game this was had come to an end.

  “You sent the whole school after me. For what? What did I do to you? I hit you once for stealing my girlfriend,” David said, raising his voice. It hurt his chest to talk so loud.

  “Oh, that,” Sam said. He stood up. “I sent the whole school after you just to keep them occupied. They all want to kill me for my food. But now, instead, they’re killing each other to get to you. They’re hungry. They’ll do anything. They’ll kill their best friends. All I have to do is dangle some food in front of their noses. I don’t even have to give them any. I stiffed those Nerds who brought you in,” he went on. “Later tonight I’m putting a bounty out on them. And then I’ll put a bounty on the ones who bring them in, on and on, and by the end of the week, the whole school will be so weak and hungry that even if they all banded together they wouldn’t have the strength to knock on my door.”

  Sam laughed. The noise of it expanded in David’s ears like high-pitched thunder. He felt his eardrums tear open. He screamed, “GET AWAY FROM ME!” but he couldn’t hear it over the wretched sound drilling into the ba
ck of his eyes. He cried. He screamed. The noise stopped dead, but the pain still thudded in his head.

  He opened his eye. Sam stared at him, perplexed.

  “What are you, nuts?”

  He thought about not telling Sam the truth, but what did it matter now?

  “I’m dying.”

  Sam plopped back down in his chair. He stared at David.

  “I mean . . . how long do you have left?”

  “Not long.”

  Sam’s posture, his tone of voice, confused David. He almost seemed concerned. David wondered if somewhere deep down in his crooked mind there was a nugget of compassion, a speck of humanity remaining that David could appeal to.

  “Sam. I know a way out. Let me go, and I’ll show you. We could escape together. This could all be over.” Sam studied David’s face, considering the offer.

  “I don’t think I want to escape,” Sam said. “I like it here.” Shoes clapped hard against the gym floor. Hilary stumbled over to Sam. Her eyes were lazy slits. She carried a squeeze bottle full of juice, and there was a wet stain all down the front of her dress. Sam turned to face her, and his lip curled in disgust.

  “You’re drunk,” Sam said.

  “Yup,” Hilary slurred.

  “What are you doing up here? Go back to the pool.”

  “Hi, David,” Hilary said. “I miss you real bad.” She lost her balance, and Sam had to catch her to keep her from falling.

  “Get off of me,” she said, her words falling clumsily out of her mouth. “I don’t want to be with you, I want to be with David.”

  “What did you say to me?” Sam said, so loud that it echoed

  through the gym.

  Hilary hung off Sam but peered into David’s eye.

  “I’m sorry, David,” she said slowly, trying not to slur. “Sam was a mistake. I never should have broken up with you.” Sam threw Hilary to the ground. She landed face-first.

  When she rolled over, one of her teeth, her right cuspid, was gone. Hilary fumbled her hand to her bloody mouth.

  “You broke my tooth,” she said.

  “Why the fuck would you want to be with him?” Sam screamed. “Look at him. He’s dying, he’s got nothing. I’ve got it all!”

  “You don’t have shit,” she said. “Everyone hates you. Your own gang wants you dead. You haven’t got one friend in the whole school.”

  “Shut up!”

  “When do you think one of your guys is gonna take you out?

  Tomorrow? Today?” Hilary said.

  Sam paced back and forth, yanking on his own hair. He whipped back around and thrust his finger at her.

  “Is this a suicide attempt? Is that what this is?” Sam asked.

  “You want me to kill you?”

  She smiled at him. Blood and saliva wet her lips. “I don’t want to date a loser anymore, that’s what I want.” Sam picked up the metal folding chair. He stomped over to Hilary and swung the chair up over his head.

  The school’s PA system squawked to life.

  “This is Will Thorpe. Are you listening, McKinley?” Sam halted his swing; the chair stayed frozen in the air.

  “This is a message for that big pussy, Sam Howard, who’s so scared to leave the gym, he has to send his girlfriend to attack people while they’re asleep. That’s the guy I want to see in the quad in fifteen minutes. If you want to see a real fight, everybody should come on down. But don’t blame me if the big pussy doesn’t show.”

  Sam threw the chair into the bleachers and howled.

  David laughed. He couldn’t stop. It was so perfectly Will.

  38

  Will stood in the center of the quad. The rest of the school watched from around the edges, waiting for the show. Will felt the singe of every stare. People were hungry and volatile. The sun had set, but the exterior flood lamps were on. The generator was on its last legs and chugging. The harsh spotlights surged bright, casting sharp shadows, and then faded nearly all the way out again, like a drunken strobe.

  “You’re gonna die,” Nelson said from behind him.

  “Not helping,” Will said.

  “I said, you’re gonna die!” Nelson shouted at the top of his lungs.

  “I heard you! Everybody did.”

  “Oh . . . sorry.”

  It didn’t matter that the crowd heard him. They were already

  thinking it anyway. They all came to watch him lose, badly.

  Every gang was there. If Sam didn’t kill him, there was a good chance that the Freaks might.

  “I just hope David’s still alive,” Nelson shouted.

  Will had to push that out of his mind. If he thought about all the holes in his plan, he’d be sunk. He just prayed that Sam would come soon. He was already late.

  Will had no backup. Nelson was against the whole idea, and the rest of the Loners stood in the far corner of the quad. He would have liked them behind him, at least as a show of support, but they had lost faith in him after the debacle at the library.

  Will understood. They had already joined in on one of his crazy plans, and it got them ambushed, injured, and demoral-ized. None of them even believed the exit was real anymore.

  This was on his shoulders, and he would have only one chance to get it right.

  A Freak in the crowd wore black sunglasses. She grinned at him and slowly drew a finger across her neck. Will swallowed hard. He was thirsty. His chest felt tight. He looked back to Nelson, whose teeth were gritted like he was watching a car accident in slow motion. No matter what bullshit he’d told her, Will wished Lucy was there. He secretly hoped that she would be, so she could see him at his bravest.

  The crowd came alive. All heads turned as one. Varsity had arrived.

  The Freaks moved aside so that Varsity could enter the circle of gangs. Varsity wore full pads and uniforms like it was a Friday night game. They jogged onto the quad and took a regimented formation across from Will. There were a lot of them, and the other gangs looked like packs of starved dogs in comparison. Varsity was well fed and at full strength. Sam stepped through the front line.

  He knew he had a fight coming his way. That was the whole point, but somehow he didn’t ever have this bad a picture in his head. If he did, he probably would have never gone this far. Sam was fuming. He seemed repulsed by the sight of Will.

  He pulled off his jersey. Sam’s upper body bulged and flexed.

  He was huge. Will felt like the idiot everybody thought he was.

  Will clenched his fists and raised them. His fists were trembling, and there was nothing he could do to hide it. Snickers rippled from all around him.

  He wanted to run, but he didn’t think he could. He didn’t feel in control of his body anymore. He was all nerves. His mind was plagued with visions of all the ways he was going to screw this up.

  Two burly Varsity guys broke through the front line. They were holding David up between them. David’s toes dragged on the ground behind him. His head hung down. His clothes were stained brown with dried blood. The crowd gasped at the sight of him.

  “All we did was slap your brother around a little, and look

  what happened. You sure you wanna go through with this, little boy?” Sam said.

  If Sam wanted to get inside Will’s head, it was working.

  He saw David’s foot move. His right toe fumbled forward until he laid his foot flat on the ground. Then the other one.

  His legs locked straight, taking on the weight of his body.

  David raised his bloody and swollen head. It looked like a white eye patch was tied tight around a purple water balloon.

  David’s one eye wandered up until it found Will. David smiled. Will couldn’t believe it. It was a broad, genuine smile.

  His inflated face looked even uglier with the smile, but it was irrepressible. Even after such a terrible beating, David was still defiant. It filled Will with pride, and he smiled back. A calm came over him.

  “Well?” Sam shouted for the crowd’s benefit. “What’s the matter? D
id you swallow your tongue?”

  Laughs echoed across the quad.

  Will flipped Sam off.

  Sam charged him. He was upon Will in seconds, and he buried his fist in Will’s stomach. Will crumpled forward. It felt like Sam punched a hole through him. With Will bent over, Sam tried to knee him in his face. It connected with his chest instead. Will fell backward, and his feet scurried to stay underneath his weight. He barely stayed upright before Sam kicked him in the bladder. Will fell to the ground and landed on his ass bone.

  No tussle at a drop, no scuffle in the halls had ever hurt like this. Will couldn’t tell which pain belonged to what. He was losing control. Will struggled to breathe. Things were happening too fast. Sam came at him. Will winged a wild punch at him first. It dinged off Sam’s shoulder like a pebble off a car window. Sam grabbed him by the shirt with one hand. His other hand was a fist. He drew it back, winding up to deliver the final strike.

  Then, Will seized.

  His body stiffened. His eyes rolled back in his head. His feet kicked out from under him. Sam held him up by the shirt as he hung there, rigid and convulsing. Sam let him go. Will dropped like a sandbag and knocked his head against the ground.

  There were laughs in the crowd. There were just as many gasps.

  Through fluttering eyelids and jerking vision, Will saw Sam towering above him, colossal. Drool fell out of Will’s mouth.

  His body shook. All pretty convincing. Will had gotten plenty of practice from all the times he faked seizures to mess with David.

  He rammed his foot up into Sam’s crotch, and Sam crashed to the ground. Will pulled himself up. The crowd’s laughter stopped. Silence. Will wound his leg back and soccer-kicked Sam in the balls again. Sam bellowed in pain. Everyone stared in disbelief, including Varsity.