“Who is that?”
“My brother,” said Aidan. “He thought he’d come and check up on us.”
“At one o’clock in the morning?”
“He couldn’t wait.”
“And is the costume in keeping with the rest of the theatrics you all seem partial to?”
Sammy pulled his hood lower. Aidan said nothing.
Dr. Lessing broke out into a peal of laughter. It rang loudly. She was bent over double by the force of it. At first the laughter invited them to join in, but it went on for too long, and when she raised her head again, she looked exhausted. Lucy felt a thrill of fear.
Dr. Lessing caught her breath, smoothed her hair down, and buttoned her coat. She uttered a short order, and the figures behind her stepped forward.
“Who are they? Your secret police?” Sammy asked.
“They’re here to keep us all safe,” she said.
She was flanked by eight Sweepers. All helmeted. All armed.
“Do they sleep in that getup?” Sammy asked. The doctor ignored him.
Lucy recognized Simmons by his bulk and his red hair. Doesn’t he know his boss is crazy? Lucy raised her knife, feeling foolish as she did so. A broken knife against a bolt of electricity. She wondered how it would feel. A burning sensation, or maybe just a jolt to the heart that stopped it dead? Her palms were instantly slick with sweat. Aidan tried to push her behind him, but she resisted. “You’re still weak,” she whispered. “I heard you behind me tripping all over your feet.”
“Your knife is wrecked,” he whispered back.
“It’s still sharp.”
Dr. Lessing’s face softened. Her voice was pitched low. “Aidan, you shouldn’t be out of bed. Simmons told me at best you’d torn a ligament in your shoulder. There’s considerable tissue damage.” She turned toward Lucy with her hands out. “And Lucy, you were so exhausted, you fell asleep in my office between one sentence and the next.”
“You drugged us!” Lucy said. “Enough of these lies!”
Dr. Lessing laughed. “Instant coffee, a little stale, but the best that I could offer you. Hardly a drug.”
“You know what you did,” Lucy spat. “Who are you pretending for? Them? They just do what you tell them, right?” She waved her arm at the Sweepers.
Lines of concern etched themselves onto the woman’s face.
“You’re confused. You must have had a nightmare of some kind.” She beckoned to Lucy. “Come, back to your bed, and we’ll talk about it in the morning.”
Lucy took a shaking step forward. She felt Aidan’s hand on her shoulder, and then it fell away. She stared at the doctor and saw nothing in her eyes but compassion and a wrinkle of worry. It appeared genuine enough. She hesitated.
The scene in front of her seemed too absurd to be reaclass="underline" the Sweepers, silent, invisible faces behind the reflective Plexiglas helmets, grasping their bristling black boxes; the doctor in her lab coat; three kids armed with an assortment of useless weapons. Even Sammy’s curved blade was better suited for slicing off a handful of basil. Lucy’s head felt scrambled. She wondered how long it would be before whatever sedatives Dr. Lessing had given them wore off completely. What was real? That was the question that was nagging at her. Dr. Lessing had an explanation for everything. How much of what Lucy was feeling was paranoia seeded in the early days of the plague? The Sweepers, the S’ans. She glanced at Sammy. She’d been totally wrong about the S’ans. What else was she wrong about? Was it true that these people were just trying to make everything better? Safer?
Dr. Lessing moved a step closer, Simmons at her heels, but she gestured him back. The Sweepers kept their positions. A slight smile curved her mouth.
“You’re so tired, Lucy. It’s been so hard for so long,” she said. “But it doesn’t have to be this grim struggle for survival, you know. We just want to look after you. And your friends.” Her smile broadened. She waited, her eyes intent on Lucy’s face.
Lucy shifted from one foot to the other. Her arms were sore. The hilt of her knife was slippery in her fingers. How long could they face off like this? Should they rush the Sweepers? She didn’t think any of them was up to a fight.
“I can offer each of you a bath, a bed, and a good hot breakfast in the morning.”
Lucy felt her resolve weaken. Her hands dropped a bit. Dr. Lessing came another foot closer. Close enough that Lucy could see a smear of face cream caught in the fold of skin by her nostril. It reminded Lucy of her mother. She glanced at Sammy, whose face was still masked. Then at Aidan. His expression only mirrored the confusion she felt.
She tried to apply the skills she’d learned living in the Wilds. The ability to judge possible danger, sense predators, and make a quick decision based on a gut feeling. Now, her instincts felt dull. All she could think about was how good a hot bath would feel and the genuine kindness in Dr. Lessing’s eyes. And what about Aidan? Aidan was obviously in pain. They could look after him properly here. It was what the staff had been trained for.
“We can leave whenever we want? And no more medical tests without our consent?”
“Of course.”
She lowered her knife. Dr. Lessing clapped her hands together.
“Yes?” she said. “I’m so glad.”
“Wait a minute,” Aidan said. He reached out for Lucy’s arm. He pulled her in close, still holding the hammer ready in case of attack. “Are you sure?” he said. “Just like that?”
She couldn’t help but notice how he winced as his arm was jarred. His elbow was pressed up against his ribs as if they might shake loose.
“I don’t know. I can’t tell anymore. It feels like she’s telling the truth.”
He nodded.
“You talked to her longer than anyone. And your gut reactions are usually pretty right on.”
“Really?” She felt herself blushing.
He stroked her arm. “Well, maybe not always,” he murmured. “Sometimes it takes you a while to get a clue.”
Sammy took a couple of steps back toward them. They stood shoulder to shoulder now. His back was rigid, his knuckles so tight around the hilt of his billhook that the burned skin was white.
“You’re not buying this, are you?” he asked. “She reminds me of a teacher I once had. Seemed nice and fair and ready to make a deal, but then as soon as you let down your guard, you’d be hauled into the principal’s office.”
“That was in second grade,” Aidan said.
“Yeah, but she’s the same type. If it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck… You’re forgetting Leo. And, Lucy, she took your blood. And these guys… they’re not exactly acting friendly, are they?”
He spoke without shifting his glance from the Sweepers. Lucy looked up and noticed that although they still stood in relaxed formation across the foyer, their Tasers were raised and switched on. Dr. Lessing might pretend that everything was safe and civilized, but she still relied on force.
“You’re right.”
Sammy pushed his way in front of them.
“What about Leo?” he called out. “He was sick when he got out of here. You made him that way. He had no reason to lie to us.”
Something flickered across Dr. Lessing’s face. The smile on her mouth smoothed away as if it had never been there. Lucy sensed a shift in energy. The Sweepers seemed to stand taller, the blue flames of their weapons leapt and crackled. The hairs on the back of Lucy’s neck stood up.
She searched out Mrs. Reynolds. The nurse had made her way around to stand a few feet away from Dr. Lessing. She stared straight ahead, expressionless. Lucy’s gaze was drawn to her fingers twisting together. Run, she’d said.