“How will you convince them to come with us? Why would they risk their lives for me? For Joanna?” I ask, watching the boys cheer as Jack kicks Scout’s legs from beneath him, sending him sprawling to the ground.
“They won’t do it for you or Joanna. But they’ll do it for her.” He turns and nods toward Bella. A group of kids tag behind her, hanging on to her every word as she waves her hands in the air with excitement. When she reaches the lift, she blows a kiss to the boys before hoisting the platform to the highest opening along the wall.
“Until you came along, she was all they had as far as a sister. If they know you hold the key to her survival, they’ll do just about anything,” Pete says.
I don’t know what to say. My heart shreds, a tiny fiber for each Lost Boy, for Bella, and for Pete. Worry lines crease his forehead, making him appear much older than he really is.
“I should go talk to Blade about preparing our weapons. Why don’t you go introduce yourself to Doc? You’ll find him in the apothecary building.” Pete points to a brick structure. Burgundy curtains hang in the windowless frame.
“You’re not coming with me?” I ask.
Pete shakes his head. “Let’s just say Doc and I are not the greatest of friends. He stays out of my business and I stay out of his. It’s probably best if you introduce yourself on your own. I’ll come find you later.”
“I think I’ll look in on Bella first, if you don’t mind,” I say, glancing up at the ballet of shadows in the cave opening.
“Suit yourself.” Pete shrugs. “If you’re hungry, stop by the kitchen. And if you get tired, you and Mikey can use my sleeping quarters. Mine is to the right of Bella’s.”
“Thank you,” I say, not feeling tired, but definitely feeling hungry.
He offers a quick nod and shoves his hands into his pockets before joining a group of boys pouring what looks like beer from an amber bottle into tin cans and clinking them with one another.
I turn toward the sleeping quarters and climb onto the lift. Gripping the rope, I raise the platform to Bella’s cave. As I reach Bella’s room, quiet sobs rebound through the entrance. I secure the rope on a hook and peer around the cave wall, careful not to be seen. Other than the little bit of light sputtering from a single candle, the room is relatively dark.
Bella wipes the cascade of tears from her face as she stares at her boots. She slips her thin arms from the straps of her metal wings and leans them against a wall. Finally, she takes a breath and pulls the leather boots off her feet. With each tug, a whimper escapes through her gritted teeth. Every slight movement appears to cause her excruciating pain until her foot is free.
Dark red stains blot the toes of her thick socks. She rolls them to her ankles and removes them from her feet with extra care. Her toes are bloody and blistered. The nails on her feet are broken and black. She dips her feet into a clay pot filled with a murky brown liquid. Her face crinkles into a painful wince before her expression relaxes into one of relief. She lies back on a ragged pillow, pulls a tattered blanket over herself, and with her feet still in the pot, she sighs.
My body aches as I suck in a breath. I didn’t realize how bad it was until now.
“Bella? Can I come in?” I ask.
She bolts upright, her feet tipping the pot and flooding the bottom of her bedroll with muddy water. She rips her slingshot from her belt and aims at me quicker than I can blink. It takes her only a second to recognize me and she lowers her weapon. “What are you doing here?” she asks.
“I came to check on you,” I say. My eyes flash to the ulcers on her tiny toes. “I had no idea.”
Bella sets her slingshot on a ledge and thrusts the frayed quilt over her feet. “Why would you? It’s not your business anyway,” she says, lying back down with her back to me.
“But …”
“Just go away.” Her words tumble out, quiet but razor-sharp.
Shrinking back, I’m unsure how to respond to her hostility. “I only wanted to help,” I say, surprised by the sound of hurt in my own voice.
“I didn’t ask for your help,” Bella snaps as she sits up. Her eyes shimmer with unshed tears. “Why did you come here, anyway? Are you trying to hook up with Pete? Because if you are, you might as well give up. He doesn’t have time for a girl like you.”
Shaking my head, I hold up my palms and step back. “That’s not it at all. I’m here because you invited me. You said you’d help get Joanna back.”
“I didn’t invite you; Pete did,” Bella says haughtily. Then she turns her back to me, extinguishes the candle, and wraps the quilt around her. A small toe peeks from beneath the blanket and lies in the pool of water at the end of her bed.
I should be offended, but I recognize the ferocity the war has instilled in all of us.