The Hunted (20 page)

It was over in an embarrassingly short amount of time.

Shy watched Carmen climb out of the pool and dry off with the towel she'd brought with her. Then he watched her step back into her jeans and pull her shirt over her head, the material quickly falling over her Muppet tattoo.

He felt like apologizing, he didn't even know why.

Instead, he stepped out of the pool and took the towel she was holding out for him. As he began drying off, he cleared his throat and said: “Hey, Carm. You okay with everything?”

She smiled. “Of course I'm okay, Shy.”

“I just mean…So you're not gonna write out new rules or anything?”

She laughed a little—which struck Shy as a good sign. “Oh, I'm sure there'll eventually be new rules. I'll let you know when I figure them out.” She looked past Shy, toward the trail. “But, hey, the sun's about to set. We should probably go find Shoe.”

“Definitely,” he said.

She took a couple steps forward and kissed him on the lips. It was a short kiss, but it lifted a huge weight off Shy's shoulders. “Hurry up and get dressed,” she told him.

As he was zipping up his jeans a thought occurred to him: the ring.

He pulled it out of his pocket and held it out to her, excitedly. It took her a few seconds to notice what he was holding, but when she did, she froze. And her face shifted into a slight frown.

Shy cleared his throat. “Look, it doesn't mean anything, okay? I promise. I know you already got someone. But since the day I got this thing…I always thought you should have it.”

Carmen backed away a little, shaking her head. “But it
does
mean something, Shy. You
know
it does.”

“I'm not even saying for you to wear it,” Shy told her. “Put it in a drawer somewhere. When all this is over. Dude, take it to a pawnshop. Whatever you want.”

Carmen looked up at the sky and yanked at her wet hair. “God, Shy, I love that you think so highly of me.” Her eyes fell on his again. “But I don't deserve it.”

“Says who?” Shy said.

“Anyone who could've seen what we just did. What
I
just did.” She shook her head. “Listen, I could never accept that ring, okay? Not until I find out for sure about Brett.”

Shy lowered the ring, ashamed.

He'd never felt so small in his life. Like he might disappear into thin air. “But no one else would even know,” he argued.

“
I'll
know.”

Shy slipped the ring back in his pocket, trying to act like it was no big deal, like they could just move on and go find Shoeshine and continue on their stupid trip. But secretly he was crushed. One of the best moments of his life, being with Carmen, now felt like one of the worst moments of his life. She wouldn't even take his ring as just friends.

He turned away from her and started drying his floppy hair, ignoring the egg smell embedded into the towel.

“Come on, Shy,” Carmen pleaded. “I know how I sound to you right now, but symbols like that still mean something—” She stopped abruptly and spun around to the dense stretch of trees behind them.

Shy heard it, too.

The sound of footsteps and snapping branches.

“Shy!” a distant voice called out. “Shy, you there?”

Shy could sense Carmen staring at him, but he couldn't look at her. Not yet.

“Shy!” The voice sounded closer now. And he was able to make out who it was. Dale.

“Yeah!” Shy called back.

In a few seconds Dale pushed through the overgrown tree limbs, followed by Tommy. Both of them out of breath. Dale looked at Shy, then Carmen. He seemed like he was hopped up on meds or something.

“What is it?” Shy asked.

“It was just on the radio,” Dale said between breaths. “DJ Dan. We were listening and—”

“He made an announcement,” Tommy said.

Dale nodded, excitedly. “It's all over.”

“What's all over?” Shy asked.

“Everything,”
Dale said. “What's happening to California.”

This time Shy
did
look at Carmen. She had her hands on her hips, her face frozen in a frown. “What are you talking about?” she said.

“This one drug company,” Dale explained, pausing to suck in another breath, “according to the DJ, they found a cure for Romero Disease. A pill. The epidemic is over.”

“Shut up,” Carmen said.

Tommy nodded. “Swear to God.”

Dale gave Tommy an awkward high five and turned back to Shy. “Tomorrow they're gonna start passing the pills out to everyone in California.”

Shy's whole body went numb.

He and Carmen stared at each other.

“It's amazing news, right?” Dale said. He laughed and shook his head. “These people…they're heroes. They saved all of our lives.”

“You don't happen to remember the name of this company, do you?” Shy asked, though he was pretty sure he knew the answer.

“Of course I do,” Dale barked. “I wrote it down as soon as I heard it. They're called LasoTech.”

They were five miles west of Indio when the old-school gas gauge officially inched into the red. Shy stared at it for a few seconds, discouraged, before peering through the back window of the vintage ride Mario had insisted they take. It was a cherried-out 1953 Buick Skylark convertible, Mario's pride and joy, according to Dale and Tommy. The man had tossed Shoeshine the keys during the big goodbye scene, telling him: “I don't know where you all are going, but if you're involved, I trust it's somewhere important. Might as well get there in style.”

Now here they were, creeping east on the 10 Freeway in the dark. Headlights off to keep a low profile. Shy and Carmen were supposed to be looking for a gas station off the freeway—no matter what condition it was in—but Shy's mind was still stuck on the news.

LasoTech had saved the day.

LasoTech was now working directly with the government, and Jim Miller, Addie's asshole dad, was being celebrated as some kind of hero.

The shit made Shy want to vomit.

Or break something.

The shadowy landscape had become more mountainous outside of San Bernardino. Shrubs were scattered along the shoulder. Power lines dipped and rose and dipped again. They had all the car windows down and the air smelled like dust and clay and fire and Carmen's wild hair, which blew into Shy's face from the front seat, constantly reminding him of the sulfur pool.

And how was Shy supposed to process those two competing emotions? Rage against an evil company and nervous excitement about a girl.
Woman!
It was like trying to push together the plus sides on two bar magnets.

Shy moved Dale's spare radio from his lap onto his right knee and tried to focus in spite of the classical music the DJ had been playing for the last few hours.

“Is that one up there?” Carmen said, pointing through the windshield.

Shy could vaguely make out a sign about a half-mile in the distance. But he didn't see an actual gas station.

Shoeshine peered into the rearview mirror before taking the next off-ramp.

There was a gas station all right, but it had been reduced to a charred pile of rubble. Shy counted six big holes in the ground where the pumps must have been. He wondered if the underground tanks had exploded in the fire.

Shoeshine parked the Skylark across the street and cut the engine, and the three of them stared at the debris.

“Be back in a minute,” Shoeshine said, climbing awkwardly out of the driver's seat.

“Wait, where you going?” Shy said, suddenly nervous to be alone with Carmen.

The man stuck his head back in his window. “Sometimes an old man like myself has to relieve himself, young fella. It's a prostate thing. You'll get there one day.”

“Oh.” Shy watched Shoeshine limp away, relying heavily on his walking stick. There was no way the man would make it anywhere without the Skylark. They had to find gas.

Shy took a deep breath and focused on the back of Carmen's head. “Hey, Carm. I wanted to apologize about what happened back at—”

“Look,” Carmen said, spinning around to face him, “I've been thinking about this since we left. If anyone should be apologizing it's me, okay? I just…I couldn't fight it anymore. And I know that doesn't say much about me, right? But when you took out that ring—”

“That's what I'm talking about, though,” Shy said. “I don't even know why I did that.” He fingered the ring in his pocket, feeling encouraged. If Carmen said she couldn't fight it, then it meant she was drawn to him, too. It wasn't all in his head. “But here's what I wanted to tell you,” he continued. “I know you got someone, all right? And I know as soon as we get to Arizona—”

“
If
we get to Arizona.”

“Exactly.
If
we get to Arizona. I know you're gonna start looking for the dude. And I respect that. For real. But look at shit, Carm.” He pointed at the gas station, which was barely visible in the dark. “Everything's different now. People are dropping like flies. They're hiding out in prisons. I'm not worried about tomorrow right now. I'm worried about today.”

Carmen nodded a little and kept looking at him. “That's actually a pretty smart way to say what I've been feeling, Sancho.” She turned around farther so she could look him directly in the eyes. “I'm not claiming it's right, but who decides that shit now anyway? Right and wrong. Everything's changed.”

Before Shy could respond, he heard a loud retching sound in the dark somewhere. He couldn't see anything outside his window, though. “Damn.”

“Sounded like Shoe,” Carmen said. “You think we should go look for him?”

Shy nodded and reached into the duffel for the flashlight Dale had given him. But as soon as he opened his door, there was Shoeshine, walking through the dark toward them. Shy followed the man with his eyes as he went around the front of the Skylark and climbed back into the driver's seat.

“You okay?” Carmen asked.

Shoeshine turned to her. “Who, me?”

“Sounded like you just got sick out there,” Shy said from the backseat.

Shoeshine craned his neck to look at Shy. “Believe you got the wrong black man, young fella.”

Shy and Carmen shared a frown as Shoeshine turned the key in the ignition. The man was definitely trying hide how bad off he was. Shy remembered the pus he'd seen on Shoeshine's wound.

The engine turned over several times before finally catching and roaring back to life. Shoeshine studied his mirrors for an unusually long time before pulling back onto the road.