Head down, Betty began collecting the compacts into her poncho. “I’m sorry, but that looks awful. Go wash it off. I’m embarrassed.”
Daniel reached for the compact, starting when he saw his reflection. He moved the mirror around to get a better idea, but even seeing only tiny bits at a time, it was obvious it was a bad job. The overall complexion was too red to look convincing, and the dots of color that were supposed to be blisters looked fake. I can’t sit here and do nothing. “It’s fine,” he said as he set the mirror down. “I’ll just stay wrapped up in a blanket. They aren’t going to look too closely if I’m sick, right?”
Betty looked old as she stood, the makeup held tight to her chest. “Go wash it off.”
“She’s right,” Phil said. “It looks like shit.”
Desperate, Daniel looked at Thomas, but the big man shook his head. “Wash it off. Lights out in ten minutes. You want to be back here by then.”
Ten minutes. Daniel sat, frustrated. He’d wanted to be covered in pox and carted out as sick on the hospital’s evening truck. But no one was saying anything as they looked at him, and so he finally stood. “Excuse me,” he said stiffly as he wove between the cots, embarrassed at the obviously fake blisters and rash.
But as he made his way to the locker room, he realized something had changed among the people here. They were meeting his eyes now. It was more than them knowing who he was and what he was trying to do. There was hope again. Even as they cared for the last of the people dying from his virus, they believed there would be no more, that they had a way to fight it. He could see it in the way they held themselves. The heartache and pain were still there, but the hopelessness and abandonment were gone.
He couldn’t fail them.
Stiff-arming the locker room door open, he went to the rows of sinks, leaving his glasses on the shelf before turning on the water and bowing his head over it. He hit the soap dispenser, appreciating the grit as it helped to scrub the makeup off. He was alone this close to lights out, and the ratcheting of the cotton cloth he pulled from the cycling roll echoed in the hard space. Depressed, he dried his face with the rough fabric before pulling a clean section out for the next person.
“I have got to get out of here,” he whispered as he leaned toward the mirror and eyed his reddened skin. Tomorrow would be too late. Who knew what they were railroading Trisk into?
A familiar, distinctive clatter caught his attention, and his eyes darted to the corner of the room through the mirror. “Orchid?” he whispered, then ducked to look under the stalls for legs.
A tiny harrumph pulled him up, his head almost smacking into the tiny woman hovering at eye height. “Do you think I’d be in the men’s locker room if there was anyone in here but you?” she said tartly, a faint pink dust of embarrassment slipping from her.
He fumbled for his glasses, shocked to see her. “What are you doing here at all?” he said in a harsh whisper, and then his expression hardened. “Are you spying for Kal? Going to go back now and tell him the poor human is stuck with the sick and dying?”
Orchid dropped in altitude, brow furrowed. “I nearly froze getting here, and you think I’m spying?”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “The last I knew, you and Kal were like peas and carrots.”
With that, her expression fell, her tiny hands wringing the hem of her gossamer dress. “Kal is a moss wipe,” she said, her dust shifting to a bright red to match her face. “I’m not with him anymore. I thought he was trying to prove Trisk’s research was dangerous so he could help his people, but he thinks he can make a profit with it now, hide that it was his fault your virus made her tomato toxic. He said the enclave has to kill you so the elves won’t be blamed, and I—” Her words cut off as she lit upon one of the sinks, slipping on the wet porcelain and catching her balance.
Kill me? Well, that might be why she was here, and Daniel shifted to get between her and the door in case someone came in. “Are you hungry?” he asked softly.
“No, thanks,” she said sourly, a hand to her middle. “Halloween is tomorrow and the kids have candy.”
His eyes widened. “You haven’t been . . .”
She laughed, the tiny chiming sound going with the sudden silver dust spilling from her to the floor. “Letting them see me? No.” She coyly swung back and forth, playing with her dress. “But I think one of the girls heard me. She left some milk out for me on the bleachers. I’m going to go get it once the lights are out.”