Lord of Misrule Page 0,46

had put rat poison in it. "What's this?"

"What does it look like? Take or don't, I don't really care." Claire put it down on the table next to where Monica sat, and went to curl up on the couch next to Shane. She checked her cell phone. The network was back up again, at least for the moment, and she had a ton of voice mails. Most were from Shane, so she saved them to listen to later; two more were from Eve, which she deleted, since they were instructions on where to find her.

The last one was from her mother. Claire caught her breath, tears pricking in her eyes at the sound of Mom's voice. Her mother sounded calm, at least--mostly, anyway.

Claire, sweetie, I know I shouldn't be worrying but I am. Honey, call us. I've been hearing some terrible things about what's happening out there. Some of the people with us here are talking about fights and looting. If I don't hear from you soon--well, I don't know what we'll do, but your father's going crazy. So please, call us. We love you, honey. Bye.

Claire got her breathing back under control, mainly by sternly telling herself that she needed to sound together and completely in control to keep her parents from charging out there into the craziness. She had it more or less managed by the time the phone rang on the other end, and when her mother picked it up, she was able to say, "Hi, Mom," without making it sound like she was about to burst into tears. "I got your message. Is everything okay there?"

"Here? Claire, don't you be worrying about us! We're just fine! Oh, honey, are you okay? Really?"

"Honestly, yes, I'm okay. Everything's--" She couldn't say that everything was okay, because of course it wasn't. It was, at best, kind of temporarily stable. "It's quiet here. Shane's here, and Eve." Claire remembered that Mom had liked Monica Morrell, and rolled her eyes. Anything to calm her fears. "That girl from the dorm, Monica, she's here, too."

"Oh, yes, Monica. I liked her." It really did seem to help, which was not exactly an endorsement of Mom's character judging ability. "Her brother came by here to check on us about an hour ago. He's a nice boy."

Claire couldn't quite imagine referring to Richard Morrell as a boy, but she let it go. "He's kind of in charge of the town right now," she said. "You have the radio, right? The one we dropped off earlier?"

"Yes. We've been doing everything they say, of course. But honey, I'd really like it if you could come here. We want to have you home, with us."

"I know. I know, Mom. But I think I'd better stay here. It's important. I'll try to come by tomorrow, okay?"

They talked a little more, about nothing much, just chatter to make life seem kind of normal for a change. Mom was holding it together, but only barely; Claire could hear the manic quaver in her voice, could almost see the bright tears in her eyes. She was going on about how they'd had to move most of the boxes into the base ment to make room for all the company--company?--and how she was afraid that Claire's stuff would get damp, and then she talked about all the toys in the boxes and how much Claire had enjoyed them when she was younger.

Normal Mom stuff.

Claire didn't interrupt, except to make soothing noises and acknowledgments when Mom paused. It helped, hearing Mom's voice, and she knew it was helping her to talk. But finally, when her mother ran down like a springwound clock, Claire agreed to all the parental requirements to be careful and watch out and wear warm clothes.

Goodbye seemed very final, and once Claire hung up, she sat in silence for a few minutes, staring at the screen of her cell phone.

On impulse, she tried to call Amelie. It rang and rang. No voice mail.

In the living room, Shane was organizing some kind of sentry duty. A lot of people had already crashed out in piles of pillows, blankets, sometimes just on a spare rug. Claire edged around the prone bodies and motioned to Shane that she was going upstairs. He nodded and kept talking to the two guys he was with, but his gaze followed her all the way.

Eve was in her bedroom, and there was a note on the door that said DO NOT KNOCK OR I WILL KILL YOU. THIS