Savage Drift

^{CHAPTER TWENTY} JOSIE

I stumble back out into the hallway filled with the waiting sick.

A cut across the face. A woman holding a sprained arm.

Human beings, needing help. Dirty and scared and beaten down.

Locked up because of a blood type.

Mario is going to be okay. That’s good. I don’t know what I will do if Mario doesn’t make it.

What are his chances? Alex could tell me. Alex could calculate it for me if he were here.

I cross through the courtyard, going back to our room.

The thirty or so bodies at the gate are laid out in rows now, sleeping it off. A guard stands leaning against the gate, making sure that no one robs the bodies of the sedated prisoners.

They will wake up in three or four hours, eyes dried and bloodshot, heads pounding.

They’ll drink lots of water and feel groggy for the rest of the day.

Tonight they will go to sleep and have wild, vivid dreams. We will all hear them hollering in their sleep tonight.

The day I got shot—the same day I blocked the blow Venger meant for Mario, Mario and the kids dragged me inside. They babysat me in the rec room until I woke up.

That night I dreamed I was waiting for my parents in a train station.

Vaulted ceiling, marble hall—a classic train station. And I was skulking about, trying to stay hidden as shop vendors, with their little stores set into a colonnade against a wall, set out bottles of water in trays of ice and placed food in display cases—pastries, scrambled eggs, yogurts.

In my dream I stole a bacon, egg, and cheese on a roll and I was eating it, ducked down behind a trash bin and then there were these loud train whistles and suddenly the station was full of busy, bustling crowds.

I saw my parents there, dressed up for traveling like from a black-and-white movie. My mom wore a long coat with velvet buttons and my dad had on a suit and a fedora.

And I wanted to call out to them.

But I was so dirty and I had stolen food—I was ashamed of myself.

And they had Gram with them, and she was shuffling along as fast as she could. She walked like Mario walks. Mom and Dad were patient, as they are, but I could tell they were all in a great hurry.

I couldn’t go to them. I knew they wouldn’t want me anymore.

I enter the downstairs hallway of Excellence. I know the kids will be waiting in the room to hear about Mario.

I hurry through the Men’s hall.

The last thing I need is to run into one of my attackers from the night before.

I am relieved that I don’t.

I push open the door at the end of the hall, leading to the stairs—unlocked during the day.

Stepping in, I hear movement. Clothing rustling, breathing.

It isn’t unusual to see people making out in the shadows sometimes.

But I stop.

Looking down the stairway leading to the basement, through the slats of the stairs, I see a familiar body—a familiar sweater.

It is Mario’s sweater and it is Lori down there.

I freeze.

“Nice,” says a voice. Brett. “You’re so pretty. Don’t be scared.”

She has her hands up and he is putting them down, kissing her. Making her shut up by kissing her.

“Hey!” I say.

I am down the half a flight in a heartbeat.

“It’s okay, Josie,” Lori says. “I’m fine.”

I see tears on her cheeks. Fine?

Her shirt is messed up and her hair, too, and she is crying.

And I see Brett is not alone. ANOTHER Union “Man” is with him.

That makes me so angry I can barely breathe as VRAAAAAAAUGH my blood ramps up.

“You had your chance, Josie.” Brett says. “Lori understands a good deal when it comes her way.”

My blood is pounding in my ears and making it hard to hear. Hard to think.

“They’re going to protect us. All of us,” Lori tells me. “It’s okay.”

“IT IS NOT OKAY,” I shout.

The squat, pug-faced teenager with Brett pushes me.

“Keep it down, Rabbit,” he sneers. “This is a private party.”

God help me, I can’t stop myself.

I slam the heel of my right hand into his nose.

Blood sprays and the kid squeals.

“Jesus Christ!” Brett yells and I grab him by the hair and throw him into the cement wall.

He is down and I am kicking.

“Stop!” Lori screams. “Stop it, Josie!”

I am O. God help me. Full blown and I will kill them. Attacking a fourteen-year-old? Molesting a girl? Little Lori? I will kill them.

“STOP!” Lori slaps me.

I turn on her.

“Breathe, Josie,” she says.

She wraps her arms around me.

“Shhhhhh,” she says.

Pug Face moans.

Lori hugs me and drags me up the stairs, away from the fallen Union Men. One step at a time.

Brett curses at me.

“We’ll get you, Josie Miller,” he says. “You’re as good as dead.”