“We will, Jake. We will,” Niko said tersely. “Shut up about it.”

Robbie had been pushed backward by the force of the bullet and lay slumped against the shelves.

Blood and clumps of tissue (brain) were spattered over the decorative steering-wheel covers behind him.

And under his legs an oil slick of blood was spreading slowly.

Niko had made a square pad of bandages out of the supplies Alex had brought and was pressing down on Brayden’s shoulder with all his might.

“I couldn’t find that blood stuff,” I huffed, out of breath.

“It’s slowed,” Niko said. “I think the bleeding’s slowed. But he’s lost so much blood.”

I took Brayden’s uninjured arm and tried to find a pulse.

“He’s cold,” I said to Niko.

“I know.”

“Where’s Josie?” I asked.

“Astrid came and got her.”

“We have to do something about the body, guys!” Jake wailed. “It’s freaking me out.”

Niko looked at me.

“Can you get rid of it?” he asked.

“You don’t need my help?” I said.

“Alex will be right back,” Niko said.

I turned to Jake.

“Okay, I’ll get rid of the body,” I said. “But you have to help.”

Jake was crying now, tears streaming down his face.

“It’s my fault, it’s my fault,” he moaned.

“Stop, Jake. I need your help.”

“I can’t do this,” he said.

“Yes, you can. Just … just don’t look at him,” I told Jake.

I grabbed Robbie’s hand.

It was cold and heavy. Like clay. A clay body.

I took the one hand and Jake took the other.

“Oh God,” Jake groaned.

We flopped Robbie onto the air mattress. His body landed with a sick, wet sound.

I picked up the comforter, which had been lying on the floor, and covered the body with it.

“Come on,” I told Jake. “Pull.”

We pulled the air mattress back to the storeroom, leaving a grisly trail behind—blood running in parallel lines—as if the air mattress was a flat paintbrush trailing firehouse red.

Jake had blood all over the center of his body and his arms. We looked like we’d just butchered a cow.

“I’m scared,” Jake said.

“I know, Jake,” I said.

“I don’t want Brayden to die,” he said, breaking into sobs. “Christ! I have to get myself together.”

He wiped the tears away with his forearm, which was spattered with blood.

* * *

Jake and Alex were assigned to cleaning up the blood, while I helped Niko to bandage Brayden.

We cut Brayden’s shirt off. Niko swabbed him down with that orange stuff and then asked me to hold the bandage down hard while he wrapped the whole shoulder with gauze.

It was wet and disgusting to do this. The bullet had taken a chunk off the shoulder. The flesh was raw meat, horrible and messy. I could see white bone under the torn meat.

I tried not to black out.

“Keep the pressure on!” Niko commanded.

I closed my eyes and pressed down hard.

Niko didn’t think we should move him too much, so I went and got a new inflatable mattress.

Me, Niko, Jake, and Alex lifted him, as carefully as we could, onto the air mattress.

Niko sent Alex for space blankets and Gatorade.

Niko continued to attend to Brayden while I helped Alex and Jake finish cleaning up.

By the time we finished, there were eight trash bags filled with blood-soaked paper towels, dirty wet wipes, empty bottles of bleach, etc.

After what felt like hours and hours of hard, gruesome work, the kind of work nobody ever, ever wanted to have to do, Niko finally said:

“I think he’s stabilized enough.”

“Stabilized enough for what?” I said. Maybe he was in good enough shape that we could wash up and change clothes. We looked gruesome beyond belief.

“Stabilized enough for us to go talk to Sahalia.”

* * *

Sahalia was still lying with Astrid on one of the futon couches. They were just lying together, spooning, their bodies curled together in one doubled S.

Neither of the girls was asleep. Their eyes were wide-awake, staring forward.

Josie was curled up on the butterfly chair, staring ahead. Someone (probably Astrid) had thrown a blanket over her.

There were no sounds from inside the Train, but the futon I had put in front of the door had been removed, so I gathered that everything was okay inside.

“Sahalia,” Niko said gently, kneeling down beside the futon. “We need to know what happened.”

Sahalia simply closed her eyes.

“Come on, Sasha,” Jake tried. “We have to know.”

“No one blames you at all for what happened,” I said.

“Robbie was lying to us and we need to know the truth,” Niko said.

“He said he would take me with him,” Sahalia said quietly. “He said we were just alike and we could make it together. I thought it would be, like, as a team. But then … he…”

Tears were sliding down her face. She made no move to wipe them away.

“He said that I should be, like, his girlfriend. And I guess I thought I could, you know, do what all he wanted me to do. But then I didn’t want to and…”

“I was keeping an eye on him,” Astrid said. “I didn’t trust him. She said no. And he wouldn’t stop—”

Josie grabbed my sleeve, pushing her way through to the center of the group.

“So I was right. Right? He was bad. He was bad?”

She was breathing fast, tears pooled in her eyes.

“He was a bad guy and I had no choice but to do what I did. Right?”

“Yes.” “Of course.” “Absolutely.” We answered, but she didn’t seem to hear us.

Niko took her by the arms and looked right into her eyes.

“Josie,” he said. “Robbie was bad. You saved my life by shooting him. You did the right thing.”

Josie swooned, her knees buckling out from under her. Niko steered her down onto the futon, next to Astrid and Sahalia.

Astrid put her other arm around Josie and now she had Sahalia on one side and Josie on the other.

“I heard the shot and I came running,” Josie said.

I understood she needed to tell us all her story.

“There, in the middle of the aisle, was the bag on the floor and the second gun just laying there. I took it. I wasn’t going to shoot anyone. I just thought … a gun shouldn’t just be laying on the floor.”

She wiped at her eyes.

“I didn’t even want to pick it up. But I did. And then I saw Robbie hurting Niko. I didn’t even think,” she whispered. “I just shot him. It felt so natural. As if shooting people is something I do all the time.”

“You did the right thing,” I said.

“Because he was going to hurt Niko, right? He was going to shoot Niko.”

“He had already hit me with the gun,” Niko said. “And I think he was going to shoot me.”

“Yes,” she said. “I did the right thing. I did.”

Josie pulled her head back and looked at us all of a sudden. Niko, Jake, Alex, me. My shirt and my arms.

“Are you guys covered in blood?” she asked. “You have to get cleaned up,” she said, staggering to her feet. “What will the kids think?”

CHAPTER THIRTY

A KISS

As bone weary as we all were, only Sahalia, Jake, and Alex could sleep.

Sahalia was curled up on the futon couch.

Alex on the butterfly chair.

Jake had lain down in front of the futon on the floor. “Just to rest my eyes for a sec.” And soon he was snoring away.

“I’m ready to work,” Josie said. “I’ll take the first watch over Brayden and Mr. Appleton while you guys get some sleep.”

Astrid stood up. She walked over to the door to the Train and looked in, scratching her head.

“Do you want me to show you where your bunk is?” I asked her.

“I guess you’re pretty tired,” she said, looking at me.

“Why?”

“I think I might have lice.”

“Yeah,” I said. “You probably do.” I explained to her that we’d all had lice and that Josie washed our hair.

“I can wash yours for you,” I said.

“You’re not too tired?” Astrid asked me.

I had been totally wiped out just a moment before, but talking to Astrid. Just the idea of … well, the idea of washing her hair, made me feel really, very awake.

“No,” I said. “I can always spare a moment to delouse a friend.”

She smiled.

We walked over to the Dump. Astrid darted away near Office Supplies.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

She came back holding a pair of scissors.

“I have four brothers,” she said. “I’ve had lice three times. And there’s no way to get them out of long hair like this. You’re gonna have to give me a haircut.”

“You know I’ll suck at it, right?”

“I would be shocked if you didn’t,” she said.

And there—she smiled at me.

The same smile I’d been seeing in my dreams since I was a freshman.

* * *

The hair-washing stuff was still set up in the Dump, complete with extra towels and everything.

“Cut away,” she said as she sat on one of the stools.

“God help me,” I said.

I took a towel and wrapped it around her.

I started chopping. The golden tresses that had absolutely transfixed me were now drab and mousy. They were almost like dreadlocks. One big clump was all fused together and I just hacked at it with the scissors until I had cut the whole thing away.

Astrid shivered.

“Does it feel weird?” I asked her.

“Light,” she said. “My head feels free.”