Last Survivors 04: Shade of the Moon Read online

  “Trash and burn,” Zachary said. “Set it on fire.”

  Ryan nodded. “That’ll make a difference. They’ll notice that.”

  The boys turned to Tyler. “Better than knocking off some bum,” he said. “People’ll talk about it. Let’s go.”

  Jon followed the others up the street. As they passed the bum, Zachary gave him a kick. The bum slept through it.

  “He wouldn’t’ve felt a thing,” Luke said. “Waste of matches.”

  Jon had never been to the high school. Mom taught there, but she had never bothered to show it to him. Talked about her students, though. Cared more about them than she did about her own son. Cried when they went to the mines.

  “Damn school should burn,” he muttered.

  Tyler slapped him on his back. “Burn the damn school down!” he shouted.

  When they got to the building, they found its windows had already been shattered. “Someone got here before us,” Zachary complained. “Let’s go back to the bum.”

  “Sure, they trashed it,” Jon said. “But we’re the ones who’re gonna burn it down.”

  Tyler leaned over one of the broken windows. “Someone brush the damn glass off,” he said.

  “Job for a slip,” Zachary said.

  Jon took his jacket off and used it to brush the slivers of glass away. Tyler hoisted himself through the window and the others followed.

  “Big mess,” Ryan said.

  He was right. Desks and chairs had been overturned, books ripped to shreds. The room stank of piss and puke. Might as well burn it, Jon thought. Too much of a shithole even for grubs.

  “Got an idea,” Zachary said. “Gimme the potka.”

  Ryan handed him the bottle.

  Zachary took a deep gulp, then poured potka over the shredded books. “Lighter fluid,” he said. “Get the fire goin’ faster.”

  “Let’s try,” Tyler said. He pulled one of the matches from the box, struck it, and threw it into the book pile. Sure enough, the fire blazed hot and fast.

  “Next room!” he shouted, and they followed him. Room by room they made piles of paper and watched as they burned.

  “We did it,” Luke said. “Whole school’s on fire. Better go before we get hurt.”

  Laughing and congratulating themselves, the boys climbed out a broken window. They stood in front of the school and watched as the fire spread, until they could see flames coming out of the second-story windows.

  “That’ll teach those damn grubs,” Tyler said. “Come on, guys. Let’s find ourselves some more girls. The night’s still young.”

  Monday, May 18

  Jon got in at 4 a.m. By nine o’clock he was sitting in church, Lisa on one side, Gabe on the other. There was no law saying you had to go to church on the eighteenth, but everybody did.

  He looked around and had no trouble spotting Luke and Ryan. Zachary and Tyler went to a different church, so he didn’t expect to see them. But no matter how much he searched, he couldn’t find Sarah in the crowd. He knew she and her father didn’t attend church, but he thought they might show up for the eighteenth.

  It was hard to keep Gabe distracted, but between Jon and Lisa, they managed to make it through the service. Jon hoisted Gabe and draped him around his shoulders for the walk home.

  Jon and Lisa were fasting, but Gabe ate enough for both of them. He demanded Jon play with him, and Jon obliged until it was time for Gabe’s nap.

  “Let me get him to bed,” Lisa said. “I need to talk.”

  A few minutes later Lisa joined him in the living room. “Val and Carrie are wonderful,” she said, “but there are times I’m glad they’re not here. They don’t need to know how worried I am about the evaluation.”

  “Have they set a date?” Jon asked.

  Lisa nodded. “Friday.”

  Friday, Jon thought. He and Sarah would have to keep waiting after that, until the results were in, but how long could that take? In a week or two they’d be taking the bus together, eating lunch together, letting everyone know how they really felt.

  “Lisa, you’ll be fine,” he said. “You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

  “Oh, Jon,” she said. “There’s always something to worry about. Especially for me. Slips have to work twice as hard. You know that. And there’s so much politics. So much I don’t know. Factors. So many factors.”

  “Like what?” Jon asked.

  “Like some claver’s relative wanting my job,” she said. “Or some claver not liking me because I don’t smile enough or I smile too much. Or Gabe.”

  “What about Gabe?” Jon said. “What does he have to do with it?”

  Even though the house was empty, Lisa lowered her voice. “If I don’t pass my evaluation, I’ll have to leave Sexton,” she said. “You know that.”

  Jon nodded.

  “If that happens, I’ll have to decide what to do about Gabe,” she said.

  “I don’t understand,” Jon said. “You’ll take him with you.”

  “To what?” she asked. “To some roach-infested tenement? No medicine, not enough food? If I’m lucky, I’d get a job in Sexton. I’d be away from home six days a week, twelve hours a day. And that’s if I’m lucky. If no one will hire me, then where do I go? Where do I take him?”

  Jon pictured Mom’s apartment: it was a good one because she was a teacher. But still it was cold and miserable, and even Mom had given up trying to kill the roaches.

  “You’ll pass the evaluation,” he said.

  “Jon, there are a lot of people in Sexton who’d adopt Gabe,” Lisa said. “Couples who lost their children. Couples who haven’t been able to conceive or who’ve miscarried or had stillborns. If I don’t pass the evaluation, there’ll be a lot of pressure on me to give Gabe up for adoption.”

  “You wouldn’t, would you?” Jon asked.

  “I don’t know,” Lisa said. “What’s best for Gabe? Living with me? I love him more than life itself, but what could I give him? Maybe he’d be better off living with another family who can give him a good life, safe, with a future. Your mother let you go. Maybe I should do the same.”

  “It’s not the same and you know it,” Jon declared. “You’re family. And I get to see Mom.” He pictured her school burning down and forced himself not to think about it.

  “I’m terrified, Jon,” Lisa said. “What if I fail my evaluation because someone wants Gabe? It could happen. Then what?”

  “We’ll figure something out,” Jon said. “Maybe you could work as a domestic and keep Gabe with you. Or he could stay with me. I won’t get evaluated for another year. If I pass, he can keep living with me.”

  “Mommy!”

  Lisa got up. “Gabe must have had a nightmare,” she said. “Thank you, Jon. I feel a little better, a little less crazy.”

  “Is it okay for me to go out?” Jon asked. “Do you need me here anymore?”

  Lisa bent over and kissed him on his forehead. “Be home by suppertime,” she said. “We’ll break fast then.”

  Jon waited until Lisa left the room. Then he grabbed his jacket and ran out of the house. He didn’t stop running until he got to Sarah’s house.

  He found her sitting on the porch. Even from a distance he could tell she was crying.

  “Sarah!” he yelled, racing toward her.

  “Oh, Jon,” she said, reaching out to him.

  He held her in his arms until she stopped crying. Then they sat on the wicker love seat, Jon putting his arm around her. “What is it?” he asked. “What happened?”

  “Nothing,” she replied. “Everything. Jon, my sister died four years ago today. I miss her all the time, but it’s always worse on the anniversary.”

  “You never told me you had a sister,” Jon said.

  “We talk fifteen minutes a day,” Sarah said with a sniffle. “And most of that time we’re arguing.”

  Jon wanted to laugh. Instead he held Sarah a little closer. “Do you feel like talking about her?” he asked.

  Sarah rubbed the
tears off her cheeks with her fists. “Her name was Abby,” she said. “She was sixteen. I’m older now than she was.”

  Jon nodded. “Time stood still,” he said. “But not for us.”

  “We lived in Connecticut,” she said. “On the Long Island Sound. We had a sailboat. It was beautiful, Jon. We spent so much time on it. Abby was a wonderful sailor.”

  “She went sailing that night?” Jon asked.

  “With some of her friends,” Sarah said. “They thought it would be great to see the meteor strike from the boat. One of her friends washed ashore a couple of days later. Do you remember how horrible things were then, how crazy? We kept hoping Abby was okay but couldn’t make it home. We hoped that for a week, maybe more. Even after we knew better, we kept hoping. When Mom was dying, she told me she still was waiting for Abby to find her way home.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Jon said.

  Sarah began crying again. Jon knew there was nothing he could say that would make things better. Instead he held on to her so tightly he could no longer tell if it was his heart or hers that was broken.

  Thursday, May 21

  Luke looked around the locker room, then edged closer to Jon. “We did the right thing, didn’t we?” he whispered.

  Jon stared at him.

  “The other night,” Luke said, so softly Jon could hardly hear him. “Tyler would have killed that guy. They all would have. We had to give them something to distract them. The grubber school doesn’t matter, does it?”

  Now that he was sober, Jon knew what they’d done was very wrong. But it would have been a lot worse to kill a man.

  “We did the right thing,” he whispered back.

  Luke looked around again. “I hate this sometimes,” he said.

  “I know,” Jon said.

  “What do you know, Evans?” Tyler asked, walking toward them.

  Jon forced himself to grin. “I know how lucky I am,” he said.

  “Damn straight,” Tyler said. “Luckiest slip around.”

  Friday, May 22

  Carrie came out of the hearing room and smiled wanly at Jon and Val. “Come, Gabe,” she said. “Let’s go home now.”

  Gabe had been playing with Jon and was unwilling to stop. “Sorry, cowboy,” Jon said, handing him over to his nanny. “I’ll see you later.”

  “No!” Gabe screamed.

  A woman had come out of the hearing room and was gesturing for Jon to enter. Gabe grabbed Jon’s leg and continued screaming.

  “He never does this,” Carrie said apologetically to the woman.

  Grubs do lie, Jon thought. Gabe constantly had tantrums.

  Val helped pull Gabe off, and Carrie picked him up. They carried him out while Jon followed the woman into the hearing room.

  He didn’t know what to expect, but he felt better seeing Tyler’s father sitting behind a table, with a man on one side and a woman on the other.

  The woman who’d escorted Jon picked up a Bible. “Put your right hand on the Bible,” she said. “Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”

  Jon nodded. “I do.”

  “Do you swear that you will never repeat or report anything that is said in this room, so help you God?”

  “I do.”

  Mr. Hughes smiled at him. “Sit down, Jon,” he said, turning to the people seated next to him. “Jon Evans is a friend of my son. Because of that, I’ll turn the questioning over to Mr. Delman and Mrs. Haverford. Remember, Jon, you’ve sworn to tell the truth. If you aren’t certain about the answer to any question, don’t guess. Say you don’t know.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Jon said.

  “For the record, what is your name?” Mr. Delman asked.

  “Jon Evans,” Jon said. “Jonathan Mark Evans.”

  “And where do you live?”

  “In Sexton,” Jon replied. “Twenty-seven Pierce Drive.”

  “How old are you, Jon?” Mrs. Haverford asked.

  “I’m seventeen.”

  “What is your relationship to Mrs. Lisa Evans?” Mr. Delman asked.

  “She’s my stepmother.”

  “And how long have you known her?” Mr. Delman continued.

  Jon thought about it. He was nine when Dad married Lisa, and he’d met her a couple of times before then. “Nine years,” he said.

  “And your father is dead?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “How did you come to live in Sexton?” Mr. Delman asked.

  “We had passes,” Jon said.

  “How did you come to have those passes?”

  “A friend of ours gave them to us,” Jon said.

  “Do you know how he came to have those passes?” Mr. Delman asked.

  Jon hesitated. “I was told he was given the passes by someone he knew. His friend’s father. But I don’t know that for a fact.”

  Mr. Delman nodded. “So you and Mrs. Evans and Mrs. Evans’s son, Gabriel, moved into Sexton,” he said.

  “That’s right,” Jon said. “Gabe’s my half brother.”

  “When did your father die?” Mrs. Haverford asked.

  “Two years ago,” Jon said. “Right before we got here.”

  “So for the past two years you’ve lived with Mrs. Evans and Gabriel,” Mr. Delman said. “Does anyone else live with you?”

  “No,” Jon said. “Well, our housekeeper and Gabe’s nanny.”

  “And their names are?”

  “Val and Carrie,” Jon replied. “I’m sorry. I don’t remember their last names.”

  Mr. Hughes smiled at him. “Relax, Jon,” he said. “You’re doing fine.”

  Jon smiled back at him. “Thank you, sir,” he said. “This is kind of nerve-racking.”

  “How would you describe your relationship with Mrs. Evans?” Mrs. Haverford asked.

  “Good,” Jon said. “Good. Very good.”

  “Does she ever hit you?” Mrs. Haverford asked.

  Jon laughed. “No. Absolutely not.”

  “Does she ever hit or spank Gabe?”

  “No ma’am,” Jon said.

  “Do the domestics ever hit or spank Gabe?”

  “I don’t know,” Jon said. “I’m at school and then there’s afterschool and I’m on the Sexton soccer team. So I’m not home very much. But I’ve never seen Carrie or Val hit Gabe. I know he loves both of them.”

  “Does Mrs. Evans go out in the evenings?” Mrs. Haverford asked. “Is she romantically involved with anyone?”

  “No ma’am,” Jon said. “She took my dad’s death pretty hard. And she doesn’t have much spare time. There’s her work, and Gabe and me.”

  “Does she ever speak about her job?” Mr. Delman asked.

  “Well, I know what she does,” Jon said. “But she doesn’t go into details.”

  “Does Mrs. Evans go to church on Sundays?” Mrs. Haverford asked.

  “Yes ma’am,” Jon said. “She takes Gabe with her. I go with them when I can, but if I have a soccer game I go to the seven a.m. service instead.”

  “Just a couple more questions,” Mr. Hughes said. “Then we’ll be through.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Jon said. He hoped no one could see how much he was sweating.

  “Does Mrs. Evans ever hit the domestics?” Mrs. Haverford asked.

  “No ma’am,” he said.

  “Does she give the domestics an adequate amount of food?” Mr. Delman asked.

  “I guess so,” Jon said. “I mean, yes. Well, I don’t eat with them, so I can’t swear they’re getting enough, but they seem healthy. I’ve never heard either of them complain. As a matter of fact, they’ve both told me how grateful they are to work for us.”

  Mrs. Haverford smiled at Jon. “Is there anything else you’d like to tell us about Mrs. Evans?” she asked. “Before we call her in for her examination?”

  “She’s great,” Jon said. “She didn’t have to give me the pass, but she said she wanted me to live with her, that it would be wonderful for Gabe to have a big brot
her. And I know she works hard at her job. I really think she should be allowed to stay in Sexton.” He stopped. “I hope that’s okay,” he said. “Thank you.”

  “Thank you, Jon,” Mr. Hughes said. “You playing in Sunday’s game?”

  “Yes sir,” Jon said, getting up.

  “Give ’em hell,” Mr. Hughes said. “Show them who’s boss.”

  “I’ll try, sir,” Jon said. “Thank you, Mr. Delman, Mrs. Haverford.”

  Their nods indicated that he could leave. Jon realized he was shaking. He wasn’t sure what they were trying to find out about Lisa. He could only hope he answered in the right way.

  He didn’t want to think about the consequences if he hadn’t.

  Saturday, May 23

  “I’m sorry,” Mom said as Jon answered the phone. “I never should have talked to you that way.”

  “It’s okay,” Jon said. “You were upset about your students. I understand.”

  “I’m still upset,” Mom replied. “Maybe even more so. Did you hear what happened to the high school?”

  Jon swallowed. “Yeah,” he said.

  “Destroyed,” Mom said. “Someone’s idea of a joke. It makes me sick.”

  “But you’re still teaching,” Jon said. “Right?”

  “I’m trying,” Mom replied. “They moved us to the elementary school. The whole high school is crammed into three rooms. They moved the chairs and desks out, and the kids sit on the floor. It’s the only way they could fit everybody in.”

  “Where’s the elementary school?” Jon asked, trying not to picture the high school as it burned down.

  “On Maple,” Mom replied. “It’s about a ten-block walk.”

  “Well, that’s good,” Jon said. “At least you don’t have that long walk anymore.”

  “It’s so unfair,” Mom said. “I know it’s not your fault, Jon, but the whole system is so wrong.”

  “Hey, lady, you’re not the only one who wants to talk,” Jon heard a man shout.

  “I’ve got to go,” Mom said. “I’ll talk to you next week. I love you, Jon.”