Rosewood bids us goodbye, his son looking back only once before he rounds the corner, and then Grover Denton drives us to the motel.
The entire ride I feel nauseous. I can’t get out of here fast enough. But how do I convince Jamie? He isn’t like me. I know he’s sensitive and smart and I can probably persuade him, but how? He doesn’t see the world the way I had to. He had a supportive, loving mother. Friends he didn’t have to lie to for years. Jamie didn’t have to spend his life constantly thinking ahead and trying not to say anything that might give away that dark secret that no one is allowed to have. He doesn’t see the look Harvey Rosewood gave me or what it means.
For him, this is civilization. It’s what we’ve been looking for. For Jamie, this is his new home. He’s never going to leave it.
He follows me into my room and I shut the door. I don’t know how to say this. How do I get through to him?
But he speaks first: “We have to get the fuck out of here.”
Jamison
ANDREW JUST STARES AT ME. I WASworried about this, that he’d be so excited at the idea of a settlement that he’d just want to stay—but we can’t stay here.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I know it’s all... probably great, but not for us.”
He shakes his head slowly. “Can I just... fucking kiss you?”
My face burns and my stomach flips. “W-what?”
“I’m kidding but not really. I hate this place.”
“It’s fucking weird, right?”
“So weird!”
“I counted while we were driving. There were maybe thirty people over the age of fifty, total.”
Realization dawns on his face. “Yes! That’s what you were counting?”
“I also counted how many women there are. A little over a hundred, but none of them looked under forty years old.” The four doctors in the hospital were men. The one nurse we met was one of the few people I counted over fifty.
“Lady Marine can’t be over forty,” he points out. “Cara downstairs is twenty, max.”
“Okay, so that’s two. And I wasn’t counting at the time, but there were plenty of women in the clearing last night. Kids, too. But I didn’t see them out there today.”
Andrew grimaces. “All the women between sixteen and thirty-nine are, what? Playing daycare?”
“Thinking more along the lines of traditional gender roles. Also...” I’m worried he won’t believe me, that he’ll think I’m crazy or jumping to conclusions, but he does believe me so far. “I didn’t see one person of color here.” Almost half Philly’s population was Black—over half my school was—so walking through a new town where every person you see is white definitely sticks out.
It’s something I noticed about the small town near the cabin when my mom first bought it. Then one summer we invited my friend Wes up for a week and he made a joke that he’d have to hide in our trunk if we went to town. Sure enough, as soon as we went to the supermarket someone called the cops on him. I’d never seen my mom so pissed.
Andrew keeps his voice low but he nods enthusiastically. “It issowhite. And I’m from Connecticut!”
That makes me laugh, but it’s a nervous laugh. “All right, so we need to get out of here.”
“Yes. Now.”
“No.” I hold up a hand. “We should wait until night. It looks like they only have the tollbooth on lockdown, so we head through the woods and just get as far away as we can.”
“You think they won’t let us go?” he asks.
I don’t. It was the questionnaire that really got me. They’re so adamant about it, and not once during the tour did Nadine or Sheriff Denton say anything about leaving. I cross the room and take the clipboard Andrew put aside.
I flip to the second page. More questions about the superflu.
Who was the youngest in your family to be taken?“Taken” like they just went somewhere and weren’t the victims of a deadly virus.
Who was the oldest in your family to be taken?
