him, so Michael pushed farther into the hard wall. A nauseating throb ran through his ankle, but he couldn’t move. The boys could be working for Julius.
“It’s a library, Archie. It looks empty. Why don’t we rest up for the night?”
The younger boy’s breath steamed up the window above as he kept his face pressed to it. When the other one called to him, he moved away. “We’ve got to keep moving. Why the fuck would we want to camp out in a library?”
“Because it’ll be safe.”
“Getting out of this city will be safe. Come on, let’s go.”
The shadow of the boy stepped back from the window, his footsteps moving away from them as he crossed the pavement. When it sounded like they were far enough away, Michael leaned close to Lola. “You don’t need to babysit me. You need me around. If it wasn’t for me, they would have just found us then. I’m a help.”
Rolling her eyes, Lola shook her head and started to crawl away from the window. “Come on, Nearly Eleven, let’s go.”
Disposal
As they left the library, Michael looked toward the boy on the pavement. “It feels wrong to leave him here.”
After looking at the dead kid, Lola searched their surroundings and threw a flippant shrug at him. “What do you suppose we do? Dig a hole in the pavement for him?”
Her cruelty stung, but she was right.
They moved on without another word, Michael giving the corpse such a wide berth he walked down the center of the road on the other side of the white line.
Lola shook her head at him and stepped over the boy.
Although he continued to glance back over his shoulder at the dead boy, Michael fell back into line with Lola.
After he checked behind for what must have been the fifth or sixth time, Lola said, “Are you waiting for him to get up and walk away or something?”
“I dunno; it’s just… that boy could have been me. I was captured and led to the warehouse like him. I could be the one left dead on the pavement. I just feel guilty, that's all.”
Lola stopped walking and stared at him.
“What?” Michael asked.
But she didn’t reply. Instead, she groaned, turned around, and headed back toward the boy.
“What are you doing?” Michael called, but she didn’t respond. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he hobbled after her. “Lola, what are you going to do?”
Lola stopped next to the body and Michael caught up with her. When she bent down and grabbed the boy’s ankles, Michael gasped. “What are you doing?”
The boy’s head bounced against the hard pavement as she dragged him toward the library’s entrance.
“Be careful with him.”
Lola stopped still, kept a hold of the boy, and stared at Michael. Ice hung off every word. “He’s dead. I’m sure he doesn’t care about being dragged. If you keep complaining, I’m going to leave him here for the crows. Is that what you want?”
Michael shook his head.
After watching him for a few more seconds as if daring him to say something else, Lola resumed with dragging the boy toward the library.
Hobbling ahead of her, Michael pulled the huge wooden door open. The old hinges creaked, echoing through the high-ceilinged building.
After Lola had dragged him through, Michael let the door fall closed and watched her drag him to one of the aisles.
Her scowl said, “Back the fuck off,” but Michael couldn’t. “You’re going to leave him there?”
She cocked an eyebrow and tilted her head to one side.
Michael didn’t ask her anything else.
When she pulled a book from the shelf and a lighter from her pocket, Michael gasped again.
“Do you need a fucking inhaler or something?” Lola asked.
Before he could say anything, she struck the lighter, opened the book slightly, and held the flame to the pages. It went up almost instantly. She put the lighter back in her pocket and pulled another book from a shelf. Using the first book, she lit the second.
After setting fire to several more books, she placed them individually on the shelves surrounding the dead boy and pulled more books onto each one.
Before long, flames had spread along the lines of books, and smoke filled the air. The brightness and heat increased with each passing second.
“You wanted a proper send-off,” Lola said. “What better way than a cremation that will light up the entire city?”
The plastic taste of smoke snaked into Michael’s throat, and he had to swallow to get his words out. “But won’t everyone see this?”
“Yes, and we’ll