The light changed. They followed the stream of pedestrians, crossing the street.
Kristen held up her hand, the fingers splayed. “Five of us, originally. Gabe told me where to find them. I introduced myself, suggested we’d do better if we pooled our resources, compared notes on what we knew. Only Madeline and Erin agreed. Watch your step,” Kristen said, leaping over a pothole full of slimy water and cigarette butts.
“So you lived together?” Eden skirted around the hole.
“As you saw yesterday, suffering brings people together. We’d each thought we were the only Sider. You’ll never know what that’s like.” Kristen gave her a once-over as they turned a corner, passing a bookstore. “Then, suddenly, we were a triad. We learned quickly to trust each other. I was naïve enough to believe our bond was unbreakable. I was wrong.”
Kristen fell silent, leading them across another street.
It took a few minutes before Eden realized their wandering wasn’t random. They were following someone. A guy, his yellow shirt standing out enough that she noticed it.
“Remove your gloves,” Kristen said. Eden’s heart quickened. She slipped the gloves off, stuffing them into her pocket. They stayed directly behind him, Kristen creeping closer when he brought a cell phone to his ear. As his conversation ended, she dropped back a few paces, turning to Eden.
“Are you ready?” Kristen asked. This is it, Eden thought. “Were you listening to him?” Eden shook her head. Kristen didn’t hide her disappointment. “He told whoever he was talking to that he got it, that things were looking up.”
“It what?”
Kristen gave her head a slight shake. “Doesn’t matter. From the tone of his voice, things are going his way. This is how we chose our mark, Eden. Observations like these. It’s not fail-safe, but we do what we can. When you dose him, it’s likely he’ll take the Touch well. Perhaps we’re helping him celebrate. I want you to speed up. As you pass him, make sure your fingers make skin contact. Understood?” Eden swallowed the sudden knot in her throat, nodding. They turned a corner, heading down a side street. “Now,” Kristen whispered.
Eden forced her feet faster, kept her eyes on the guy’s hand, swinging at his side. She drew up alongside him, counting down in her head. Her hand drifted away from her side. She felt his knuckles graze hers, turned her hand. Her heart hammered as her fingers slid across his.
A current surged through her, a glow marking where her fingertips made contact. Eden gasped, her breath catching at the pleasure as the Touch left her. The guy sidestepped, looked down, and then glanced up at her in confusion. Eden smiled an apology.
“I thought you were someone else.” He nodded, speeding up again.
Eden slowed.
“Well? How was it?” Kristen asked.
“It…it felt good.”
“Of course it did,” Kristen scoffed. “You saw the glow, right? And your anxiety dropped when it passed?”
Anxiety? Eden thought. Maybe I missed that. She nodded, unsure. That couldn’t be all there was to passing Touch. No way.
Kristen ducked into a deli, sending a jangle from the bell on the door. The counter was busy, a long line of people snaking through a smattering of occupied tables. At one a couple stood, gathering their wrappers and empty cups as they prepared to leave. Kristen smiled at them.
“We’ll get rid of that for you if you’ll bequeath us your table.” Behind Kristen, Eden tensed. She’s going to do it, she thought as Kristen slipped off her gloves. Instead, Kristen sunk into a chair. “Thank you!” she called sweetly as the couple abandoned their table and trash to her.
Eden caught a snickered, “Freak” as the guy threw an arm around his companion, before he leaned in to add, “What the fuck does ‘bequeath’ mean?”
At the table, Kristen’s eyes shot skyward. She blew out an angry breath, her bangs lifting in its wake. “Sit, Eden,” she demanded.
Eden picked up a clean-looking napkin from the mess and swiped a splotch of ketchup from the tabletop. “You couldn’t even let them take their garbage? I thought you were going to hit them with the stuff,” she said. She plopped down opposite Kristen.
“One, I have reasons behind my behavior, always, and questioning them makes you look foolish,” Kristen said, her voice quietly dangerous. “If we were sitting at a clean table, we’d be bothered. Two, I barely spoke to them. I didn’t pick up enough to be sure they could handle”—she paused to smirk, raising her fingers in air quotes—“the stuff, as you so eloquently