Contagious

Perry nodded. “Yeah, when I was standing right there, I could hear them. I could hear her.”

“That’s the point,” Dew said. “We don’t know where the next gate is, Perry. The Jewells have to be there. If we find them, we find the gate. Chelsea talked to you. You have to go back in there and see if she makes contact again.”

“You have to do this,” Margaret said, her voice tight and cold. “We are not going to have let that woman die for nothing.”

Perry shook his head again. His eyes remained wide, his nostrils flaring with each breath.

“Perry,” Margaret said, “you’ve fought through so much. Tell me why you’re afraid of this little girl.”

“She’s not a little girl anymore,” Perry said. “She’s something else. She can... she can make people do things.”

“We’re with you, kid,” Dew said. “We’ll be right there, okay?”

“The answer is no, Dew,” Perry said. “You have to stop asking me to go in there. You just have to.”

“Those hatchlings are in their own little cages,” Dew said. “They cannot get to you. You need to stop being such a p.u.s.s.y and—”

Dew never saw Perry’s hand. Not even a blur. One second he was shaking and nodding like a rabid Saint Bernard, the next Dew felt a cast-iron vise on his throat and his feet dangled a foot off the ground.

“You don’t get it!” Perry screamed. “You just don’t get it!”

Dew clawed at Perry’s fingers, trying to isolate one, to bend it back and break it, but even the kid’s fingers were strong. Dew couldn’t pry one free.

Margaret grabbed Perry’s arm. She might as well have swung from a tree limb for all the effect she had. “Perry! Put him down!”

Perry shook Dew. Shook him. Dew’s vision blacked out for a moment, then came back—he only had a few seconds left. He kicked out, clumsily, trying to get his actions under control. One foot connected, but he’d kicked Margaret, not Perry.

She grabbed at her left thigh and fell to the ground. Dew suddenly found himself down there as well, coughing and spitting. Perry was so big, so strong, so fast. Dew now knew it had been nothing but dumb luck he’d won that fight.

“I’m not afraid of what she’ll do to me!” Perry screamed. “I’m afraid of what she’ll make me do to you!”

Dew rolled onto his back and looked up. Sooty snow melted into the

Perry jabbed his finger repeatedly into his temple, punctuating his words.

“Don’t you get it? They rewrote my f.u.c.king brain! And when I go near those triangles, I can hear her. She’s f.u.c.king powerful, man. I don’t want you to end up like Bill. She told me to kill you!”

Dew hawked a loogie and spit. It came out thick with blood. “So why didn’t you?”

Perry didn’t say anything. The insanity slowly left his eyes.

“Why?” Dew said. “If she’s so powerful, why didn’t you kill me when she told you to? Why didn’t you kill me just now?”

“Because... because you can take me. You can beat me up.”

Dew laughed, but the pain in his throat changed the laugh to a cough.

“Kid, you could have broken my neck just now. You didn’t. So if this little girl has control over you, why am I still alive?”

The insane look faded away completely. Perry stood straight, stared at Dew for a few more seconds, then turned and walked away.

Margaret rose to her knees. Her hands held her left thigh, and her face was wrinkled with pain. “You kicked me.”

“Sorry,” Dew said. “My aim was off. I can’t imagine why.”

Dew slowly got to his feet, then reached down and helped Margaret up.

She let out a long breath. “Jesus,” she said. “You’re not the most sensitive guy in the world, are you? You need to stop being such a p.u.s.s.y? Did you really think that was going to motivate him somehow?”

“He’s a guy,” Dew said. “That kind of thing usually works with us.”

Margaret shook her head. “Can’t you men ever just talk something out?”

“You’re right, women are so much more logical,” Dew said. “Maybe I should have shown him my boxercise technique.”

Margaret rolled her eyes. “Fine. You’ve got me there. But hear me, Dew. Marcus and Gitsh are in the trailer mopping up Bernadette’s blood. You will get Perry to go in there and talk to those things, or that woman died for nothing.”

She pointed her finger in Dew’s face. “Do you understand me?”

So much anger in those eyes. She didn’t even look like Margo anymore. This was a new woman, one he’d helped create.

“I understand,” Dew said. “I’ll get through to him.”

Margaret walked back to the trailer, leaving Dew alone in the burned out, snow-covered kitchen.

TWO ALL-BEEF PATTIES

Rome sat slunk down in the driver’s seat of his Delta 88. The car was turned off, but even if it had been on, it would have been cold as h.e.l.l because the heater hadn’t worked in months. His eyes were just high enough to look out the driver’s-side window, across Orleans Street, at the fat man with the red beard walking along a waist-high fence. Wasn’t even a sidewalk there, just a snow-covered gra.s.s strip, the fence, then trees on the other side. White guy in the wrong neighborhood, at night, carrying a big white McDonald’s bag in each hand.

“Are you kidding me?” Rome said quietly. “Doesn’t this motherf.u.c.ker know where he’s at?”

In the pa.s.senger seat, Jamall shook his head. “He must not. White guy walking here at night? Alone? After hitting an ATM? It’s like he wants to get robbed.”

“Hope he got some Big Macs,” Rome said. “I’m hungry.”

The man wore jeans and a long-sleeved plaid s.h.i.+rt. Not only did he seem oblivious to his surroundings, he also seemed oblivious to the cold. Every four steps or so, his breath shot out in a big white cloud that lit up from the few working streetlights.