The Passage - By Justin Cronin Page 0,318

could barely walk,” Peter said. “I’m not sure he could walk at all.”

“In that case, he can’t have gone far, now could he?”

“Sara said the infirmary was empty. Don’t you usually have people there?”

“Not as a general matter. If Michael chose to leave, they’d have no reason to remain.” Something dark came into his face; he leveled his eyes at Peter. “I’m sure he’ll turn up. My best advice would be to return to your quarters and wait for his return.”

“I don’t see—”

Olson cut him off with a raised hand. “As I said, that’s my best advice. I suggest you take it. And try not to lose any more of your friends.”

Alicia had been silent until now. Suspended on her crutches, she bumped Peter with her shoulder. “Come on.”

“But—”

“It’s fine,” she said. Then, to Olson: “I’m sure he’s okay. If you need us, you know where to find us.”

They retreated through the maze of huts. Everything was strangely quiet, no one about. They passed the shed where the party had been held, finding it deserted. All the buildings were dark. Peter felt a prickling on his skin as the cooling desert night descended, but he knew this sensation was caused by more than just a change in temperature. He could feel the eyes of people watching them from the windows.

“Don’t look,” Alicia said. “I feel it too. Just walk.”

They arrived at their quarters as Hollis and the others were returning. Sara was frantic with worry. Peter related their conversation with Olson.

“They’ve taken him somewhere, haven’t they?” Lish said.

It seemed so. But where, and for what purpose? Olson was lying, that was obvious. Even more strange was the fact that Olson seemed to have wanted them to know he was lying.

“Who’s out there now, Hightop?”

Caleb had taken his position by the door. “The usual two. They’re hanging out across the square, pretending they’re not watching us.”

“Anyone else?”

“No. It’s dead quiet out there. No Littles, either.”

“Go wake up Maus,” Peter said. “Don’t tell her anything. Just bring her and Amy over here. Their packs, too.”

“Are we leaving?” Caleb’s eyes shifted to Sara, then back again. “What about the Circuit?”

“We’re not going anywhere without him. Just go.”

Caleb darted out the door. Peter and Alicia exchanged a look: something was happening. They would have to move quickly.

A moment later Caleb returned. “They’re gone.”

“What do you mean gone?”

The boy’s face was gray as ash. “I mean the hut’s empty. There’s no one there, Peter.”

It was all his fault. In their haste to find Michael, he’d left the two women alone. He’d left Amy alone. How could he have been so stupid?

Alicia had put her crutches aside and was unrolling the bandage from her leg. Inside, secreted there on the night of their arrival, was a blade. The crutch was a ruse: the wound was nearly healed. She rose to her feet.

“Time to find those guns,” she said.

Whatever Billie had put in his drink, the effects hadn’t worn off yet.

Michael was lying in the back of a pickup, covered with a plastic tarp. The bed of the truck was full of rattling pipes. Billie had told him to lie still, not to make a sound, but the jumpy feeling inside him was almost more than he could bear. What was she doing, giving him a concoction like that and expecting him to lie perfectly still? The effect was like shine in reverse, as if every cell in his body were singing a single note. Like his mind had passed through some kind of filter, giving each thought a bright, humming clarity.

No more dreams, she’d said. No more fat lady with her smoke and smell and awful, scratchy voice. How did Billie know about his dreams?

They’d stopped once, just a few moments after they’d left the infirmary, which they’d exited through the rear. Some kind of checkpoint. Michael heard a voice he didn’t recognize, asking Billie where she was going. From under the tarp Michael had listened anxiously to their exchange.

“There’s a broken line out in the eastern field,” she explained. “Olson asked me to move these pipes around for the crew tomorrow.”

“It’s new moon. You shouldn’t be out here.”

New moon, Michael thought. What was so important about the new moon?

“Look, that’s what he said. Take it up with him if you want.”

“I don’t see how you’re going to make it back in time.”

“Let me worry about that. Are you going to let me through or not?”

A tense silence. Then: “Just be back by dark.”

Now, sometime later,