The door was cracked. I looked inside. It was a child’s room, with a chest of dusty toys and bright blue walls. A few ragged stuffed animals sat on the miniature bed. I walked in, picking up a one-armed teddy bear that looked like it had been worn in long before the plague struck.
It happened so quickly. I heard footsteps behind me. My body hit the ground with a thud. I screamed out as a figure in a clown mask held me down, its crooked, crimson smile taunting me.
“Please don’t kill me!” I screamed. “Please!”
The clown paused for a moment, its hands pinning my shoulders to the splintered floor. Then I heard choked giggling. Arden pulled the mask off and fell over, her body shaking with laughter.
“What is wrong with you?” I yelled, hopping to my feet. “Why would you do that?”
Caleb appeared in the doorway, his face blanched. “What happened? I heard you scream.” He gripped one rusty can in each hand.
I pointed at Arden, who rolled on her side, letting out deep, throaty laughs. She wiped her eyes with the hem of her shirt. “Arden scared me. On purpose. That’s what happened.”
Caleb glanced from her back to me. His mouth hung open but no words came out. My heart thumped hard in my ribcage.
“It’s not funny,” I finally managed. “I could have had a knife. I could have killed you!” I paced back and forth, smacking one hand against the other for emphasis. She kneeled, her back arched and her face toward the floor. “Arden—look at me. Would you just turn around and look at me?” I yelled.
Caleb grabbed my arm, pulling me back.
But Arden kept her head down, her black bob a mess of tangles. She was writhing. Her palm banged on the floor.
“Arden?” I said again, softer this time. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her cheeks pink and contorted.
She turned over, her chest heaving. I stood, reaching out my hand, but she didn’t move. Instead her body curled into a tight ball, tensing with great effort. She hacked loudly, her coughs splitting the air. I dropped to the floor. My hand rested on her back as she lurched forward, trying to free her lungs. When she pulled away we both looked down.
Her palms were covered with blood.
Chapter Eleven
“SHE WAS SOAKED THROUGH LAST NIGHT,” I TOLD CALEB when we finally reached the woods outside of his camp. With each mile Arden’s coughs had grown louder, her gait slower, until she could not walk anymore. Caleb and I had taken turns pulling her along in a wagon we’d found, RADIO FLYER scrawled across its side. One minute her teeth chattered and the next she was hunched over the wagon’s side, trying to expel the bloody phlegm from her lungs. Arden had managed to fall asleep, her body hugging the scavenged cans of food. “It must be from the river and the rain.”
“I knew a boy who was sick like this once,” Caleb said.
We hoisted her up, wrapping her arms around each of our shoulders.
“And what happened?” I asked. Caleb didn’t answer. “Caleb?”
“It’s probably different,” he said. But his face looked tense, even in the faded light of the night sky.
“I’m fine,” Arden mumbled, trying to straighten up. The corners of her mouth were caked with dried spit.
We made our way through the dense gray woods, the leaves tickling my neck as we went. Animals rustled in the brush. In the distance, a wild dog pack howled, hungry for their next meal. Finally the forest spilled out into a clearing, revealing the most dazzling sight I’d ever seen. There, before us, was a giant lake, its inky surface reflecting thousands of stars.
“Lake Tahoe,” Caleb said.
I looked up, studying the twinkling white clusters. Some were so bright they looked almost blue. Others faded into the distance like shimmery dust.
“It’s magnificent.” But that word didn’t come close to describing the awe I felt then, dwarfed in the presence of the sky. “Look, Arden.” I nudged her arm. I wished I had my paints and brushes, so that I could try to capture even the faintest impression of the scene. There was only us, the black ring of land, and that brilliant dome.
But Arden only winced in pain.
“Where is the camp?” I asked, my awe giving way to dread. “We need to get her inside.”
“You’re looking at it,” Caleb said. He approached the steep, muddy incline covered in weeds and fallen branches.
I watched in confusion as Caleb grabbed a rotted log nestled into the dirt and tugged, revealing a large board the size of a door. He swung it open. Past it was a black hole, burrowed deep into the side of the mountain. “Come on,” he said, gesturing me inside.
My stomach quaked. My head felt light. Staring into the blackness, my fears returned. It was already so risky to be out in the wild with Caleb. I hadn’t imagined the camp as an underground lair. Aboveground, I could always take off running. But down in the dark . . .
I took a step back. “No . . .” I muttered under my breath. “I can’t.”
“Eve.” Caleb offered me his hand. “Arden needs help—now. Come inside. We aren’t going to hurt you.”