An Outsider boy, here, in the flesh…
She held out her hand for the new cooler, hoping he would make their transaction fast and painless.
“You’re Agnes, right?” He spoke just like Outsider teenagers at Walmart, in that casual, easy rhythm. “I’m Danny. My mom’s told me a lot about you.”
Then nothing. Waiting for her to speak.
Well, she wouldn’t. Talking to an Outsider boy was a much graver sin than talking to his mother, and what’s more, she didn’t want to.
As he looked her over—the prairie dress, her braided hair—a flush crept up her neck. She longed to crawl back into bed and pretend this was nothing but a bad dream.
“I told her it wasn’t safe to meet outdoors. What with—” He glanced behind him at the forest, shouldering his backpack and shuddering. “It’s crawling with them, you know.”
She followed his eyes to the cluster of trees at the base of the hill and barely kept herself from asking, Crawling with what?
He read the question on her face and looked alarmed.
“You’ve seen the Nest in there, haven’t you? You should burn it. I mean, it’s big as a house. Scary. And you know Nests attract the really dangerous ones.”
Agnes stared, trying to shape his words into sense. Was he talking about a bird’s nest? They had hawks in Red Creek, but their nests weren’t that large. And why would they burn one?
Big as a house—scary—
Nonsense. It must be.
The boy cleared his throat. An arc of freckles made a starry bridge over his nose. His glasses gave him a permanently skeptical look.
For all his size, the Outsider boy struck her as gentle. He clearly didn’t spend his days like Red Creek boys did, working in the fields. He did something else. Was something else.
“The thing is, my mom says I have to make sure you know about the Virus. But it’d be pretty extreme if you didn’t. Everyone knows.”
A memory jostled loose.
Tommy King said there’s sickness among the Outsiders, Ezekiel had said.
The boy waited for her to answer, and as the pause lengthened, she couldn’t think of a way to dodge his question without being insulting.
“Your mother said something about sickness among the Outsiders,” she murmured.
“Among the—” He stopped. “Oh. We’re the Outsiders. Well, I hate to break it to you, but the Outside isn’t that far away. And the Virus is everywhere. It’s infected hundreds of thousands of animals and people. These last few weeks have been… a nightmare.”
The boy fidgeted while Agnes stood mute, thinking he was wrong. The Outside was far. For all it had to do with her, it was a million miles away.
“Oh my God, you really don’t know a thing about it, do you?” He adjusted his glasses. “My mom said you don’t go to school. But what about computers? Do you have those?”
“No.”
“Newspapers? Smartphones?”
She shook her head, and Danny let out a long, low whistle that made her dart a glance at her shoes.
“Wow. I really didn’t believe my mom about this place. I mean, I believed her, but… wow.”
He stared at Agnes like she was some kind of exotic bird. “You’ve really never used a smartphone?”
Annoyance flared. “They’re against the Laws.”
He pointed to the cooler. “This is against the Laws, too, though, right?”
She flinched. “Can I have my brother’s medicine now?”
“One last thing.” God, he was tenacious. “My mom says that if your people aren’t taking precautions, you need to keep your brothers and sisters indoors. Or something might get them.”
Keep the kids indoors? Just that night they’d been running across the meadow, happily playing the Apocalypse Game. It was perfectly safe.
Her eyes narrowed. “What do you mean, Something might get them?”
“Infected creatures are really aggressive.” He stole another look at the trees. “They’ll come right out of the forest if they see something they can catch. Look, my mom wants you to call her. She gave me a phone to give you. There’s a charger in the cooler.” He ran a hand through his hair. “People are saying it’s the end of the world.”
The words were like a dagger thrust between her ribs. She knew by his tone he was only using an expression. But in Red Creek, the end of the world was a threat all too real.
She tipped her chin. “I don’t believe you.”
He shifted. “Okay. But please take the phone. You might need help someday.”
He extended a black device, the likes of which she’d never seen. Their phone back home was a chunky thing, with a coiled wire plugged into the wall. Nothing like this sleek, metallic slice of peril.
The wind whistled, and Agnes shivered.
Sickness, a Virus, creatures coming out of the woods. The idea that the Prophet couldn’t protect God’s chosen… ludicrous.
When the Rapture came, the Prophet would scream it from the watchtower. When the Rapture came, God would warn His people and spare them from the flames.
“I can’t touch that.” Bolstered by faith, Agnes met his eyes unflinchingly. “For one thing, I think you’re lying. Or deluded. Or both.”
She could hardly believe her boldness. Even Beth would be impressed.
His eyes hardened. “My mom would tell you the same thing if she were here. Is she a deluded liar, too?”
“Thank you for the medicine,” she said stiffly.
“Agnes, wait.” His manner softened, became apologetic. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“Why do you care?” she asked, honestly curious. “What am I to you?”
He blinked. “I feel like I know you. My mom’s told me what you do for your brother. How hard it must be for you.”
How hard.
Slowly but surely, something unfurled from a mysterious place in her chest. Gratitude. Her family, as much as she loved them, treated her like she’d never tire, never break. Like she was made of stone instead of flesh. It shocked her, this feeling that someone understood the shape of her life.
She shook off the unexpected emotion. “I’m sorry if there are problems in your world. But none of this has anything to do with me.”
She was already turning to go when she heard it.
The humming.
At first, it was the ghost of a sound—the vibration of a bell right after it ceased ringing, like a metallic keening, gently thrilling along her skin. But then the sound grew stronger, tunneling into her bones, mournful and terrible like nothing she’d ever heard—yet somehow, oddly familiar. She didn’t just hear it, she actually felt it, like whispers across her skin. She glanced up at the cloud-swathed moon to make sure she was still here, in a world still real.
She was. It was. And her spirit soared, because her first thought was of God.
The sound was unearthly, hymnal, but nonetheless real. Peaceful, like she wasn’t standing with the Outsider boy at all, but back in her trailer, deep in prayer.
The hum emanated from the forest.
She glanced towards its massive darkness, and just knew.
Danny watched her. He didn’t hear anything. To him, the night remained silent.
How could he not hear?