Tooth and Nail (Draft In Progress - Book One)

Chapter 15 - Speak of the Dead

It rang once. Twice. Three times. No answer. I furiously pounded by thumb into the screen to end the call and tossed my phone across the room, unplugging the loose charger, sending it flying behind the black brick like a tail on a small animal. I brought my knees up to my chest and sat back against the library wall, and covered my twisting face with my hand. It was cold against my red-hot cheeks and eyes and nose I knew would soon be doused in angry tears. How stupid of me, her phone would be dead too. I let my tears spill and hung my head between my knees, feeling the weight of my stupidity on my neck. I didn't care if I hurt myself sitting like this. I didn't care if my shoulder and back muscles were sore for weeks, I wouldn't move. I wanted to die of starvation leaning against that yellow wall that was just like every other yellow wall in this godforsaken town. This was no Utopia, this was hell disguised as a retirement community.

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I couldn't move. I heard the ringing but it didn't register to me what was happening, and it was over as soon as it started. The vibrating stopped shaking by bag, and the ringing was gone again. As soon as I could hear the silence piercing me again, I frantically threw my pack off my back and slammed it against the ground, hurriedly trying to unzip the plastic seal with shaking and wild fingers, untamed by urgency. It was at the bottom of my bag, and I didn't find it until the screen had darkened again. I felt sick. Someone had tried to call me. I unlocked the phone hesitantly, liking the weight of a former society's treasure in my palm again, fitting into its normal pockets of flesh. The screen lit up white, and I saw my Missed Call indication. I tapped gently. The app opened. One Missed Call from Connor.

I dropped my phone, freezing again, and falling backward onto the cold tile floor. My bag toppled, spilling my hairbrush and belt. I couldn't feel their eyes on me, but I knew they would be looking at me in confusion. Tamerlyn was the first to move from the stunned statue position everyone had taken. She picked up my phone, typing in my password with ease, and seeing what I saw. She gasped. She handed the phone to Avery who squeaked in terrified sadness. She reached up to Drew, who took the phone from her, saw, and passed it on emotionlessly to Allen, who read the screen and full-out cried.

Foster's brother stood there, burying his face in Allen's shirt back and looking around at all of us. "So you won't hurt me?"

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At eight o'clock, one of the old ladies from the counter came to my little corner of the library and took a seat in a chair beside the bookshelf of Dr. Seuss classics. She sat there in silence, just looking at me. I knew she was staring, the heat of her gaze made a spot on the back of my head burn, like an ant under a magnifying glass on a sunny day. Someone in the front of the room called back gently, "Elaine, should I put the lights out?"

Elaine said back, "No, I'll get them, Jenny. Thank you. Goodnight."

Then the space was again returned to the lovely quiet I had always adored about libraries but was now no more of a protecting blanket that was actually strangling me as I sat there, a cowardly and depressed pile of useless boy. They were right, teenagers don't think enough. I should have known she wouldn't answer, why not spare myself the pain of calling, praying, hoping, feeling my heart burst with every ring and beat of drums pounding in my ears that had now gone to sleep in that corner of the Children's section.

"Leave me alone," I whispered.

Elaine didn't move.

"Please go away."

Again, she did not stir in her seat.

I looked up, showing my tear-streaked face and pitiful look of confused disappointment and hatred. "Why are you here? You can't help me. Just go."