Shatter Me - Tahereh Mafi Page 0,81
a bag of groceries in the backseat.
Someone must’ve panicked at the sound of the alarm and unexpected curfew. They must’ve dropped everything and run for cover. Unbelievable. This would be absolutely perfect if I had any idea how to drive.
I run back for Adam and help him hobble into the passenger side. As soon as he sits down I can tell just how much pain he’s in. Bending his body in any way at all. Putting pressure on his ribs. Straining his muscles. “It’s okay,” he tells me, he lies to me. “I can’t stand on my feet for much longer.”
I reach into the back and rummage through the grocery bags. There’s real food inside. Not just strange bouillon cubes designed to go into Automats, but fruit and vegetables. Even Warner never gave us bananas.
I hand the yellow fruit to Adam. “Eat this.”
“I don’t think I can eat—” He pauses. Stares at the form in his hands. “Is this what I think it is?”
“I think so.”
We don’t have time to process the impossibility. I peel it open for him. Encourage him to take a small bite. I hope it’s a good thing. I heard bananas have potassium. I hope he can keep it down.
I try to focus on the machine under my feet.
“How long do you think we’ll have until Warner finds us?” Adam asks.
I take a few bites of oxygen. “I don’t know.”
A pause. “How did you get away from him . . . ?”
I’m staring straight out the windshield when I answer. “I shot him.”
“No.” Surprise. Awe. Amazement.
I show him Warner’s gun. It has a special engraving in the hilt.
Adam is stunned. “So he’s . . . dead?”
“I don’t know,” I finally admit, ashamed. I drop my eyes, study the grooves in the steering wheel. “I don’t know for sure.” I took too long to pull the trigger. It was stiffer than I expected it to be. Harder to hold the gun between my hands than I’d imagined. Warner was already dropping me when the bullet flew into his body. I was aiming for his heart.
I hope to God I didn’t miss.
We’re both too quiet.
“Adam?”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t know how to drive.”
FORTY-ONE
“You’re lucky this isn’t a stick shift.” He tries to laugh.
“Stick shift?”
“Manual transmission.”
“What’s that?”
“A little more complicated.”
I bite my lip. “Do you remember where we left James and Kenji?” I don’t even want to consider the possibility that they’ve moved. Been discovered. Anything. I can’t fathom the idea.
“Yes.” I know he’s thinking exactly what I’m thinking.
“How do I get there?”
Adam tells me the right pedal is for gas. The left is to brake. I have to shift into D for drive. I use the steering wheel to turn. There are mirrors to help see behind me. I can’t turn on my headlights and will have to rely on the moon to light my way.
I turn on the ignition, press the brake, shift into drive. Adam’s voice is the only navigation system I need. I release the brake. Press the gas. Nearly crash into a wall.
This is how we finally get back to the abandoned building.
Gas. Brake. Gas. Brake. Too much gas. Too much brake. Adam doesn’t complain and it’s almost worse. I can only imagine what my driving is doing for his injuries. I’m grateful that at least we’re not dead, not yet.
I don’t know why no one has spotted us. I wonder if maybe Warner really is dead. I wonder if everything is in chaos. I wonder if that’s why there are no soldiers in this city. They’ve all disappeared.
I think.
I almost forget to put the car in park when we reach the vaguely familiar broken building. Adam has to reach over and do it for me. I help him transition into the backseat, and he asks me why.
“Because I’m making Kenji drive, and I don’t want your brother to have to see you like this. It’s dark enough that he won’t see your body. I don’t think he should have to see you hurt.”
He nods after an infinite moment. “Thank you.”
And I’m running toward the broken building. Pulling the door open. I can only barely make out two figures in the dark. I blink and they come into focus. James is asleep with his head in Kenji’s lap. The duffel bags are open, cans of food discarded on the floor. They’re okay.
Thank God they’re okay.
I could die of relief.
Kenji pulls James up and into his arms, struggling a little under the weight. His face is smooth, serious,