Across the Water

Chapter 6

120 Hours

Nine

Twelve looks positively sickened while staring into his bowl of breakfast oatmeal. "I can't take it anymore. Oatmeal every morning. Freeze-dried camping food for lunch and dinner. Lame trail mix, crackers, or granola bars for snacks. It makes me gassy." He then lets out the wettest, juiciest fart I have ever had the misfortune of hearing, backing his claim.

"Stop bitching. It's what we have," I say, lifting my shirt collar above my nose. "And now my food is contaminated with airborne particles from your ass crack."

"You stop bitching," Twelve complains weakly, frowning as he eats another spoonful.

I roll my eyes. "Shut up and wash the dishes. For those of us not acting like toddlers, we need to be packed up and ready to go as soon as we can, we have a long way to go."

Packing up takes around 30 minutes and then it's time to start the long trek to the distant dots huddled on the other side of the lake. The pebbly shore is just wide enough for all three of us to walk abreast without the water lapping at the feet of the person walking on the outside left. The sun hasn't risen high enough to begin its full summer assault and the morning air is pleasantly cool as we begin our journey. The shoreline isn't very firm, and the pebbles are underlain with sand. It's annoying and fills my shoes. I want to take them off every ten minutes to empty them, but we have a long way to go.

"Do you think Five is looking for us?" Lisa asks, unbidden.

Damn, did I really forget to tell her? I must have, if she's asking. I shoot a look at Twelve and he looks just as guilty as I feel.

"She's dead," I inform her tersely. "She lit herself on fire after she—" I stop myself, realizing what I almost said.

"After what?" Twelve asks, curious. Shit, I almost gave my secret away. Twelve is too good at wheedling things out of me and I'm not sure if I can stand up to him right now.

"Nothing. It's not important," I lie, sweating. I start twisting my hands behind my back.

He jogs around to my other side and gets entirely too close to me, succeeding in making me even more uncomfortable than I already am. "You seem awfully squirmy to me. After what?"

Goddamn it, he's too good at this. I decide not hide it because he'll probably find out anyway. It'll be better to rip the bandaid off so he can get the mockery out of his system. "After she kissed me, okay? Are you happy now?"

"Ooooh. How was it? Not a kiss virgin anymore, are you?" He elbows me in the ribs.

I shove him so he's out of my personal space. "Stop making it weird. I was handcuffed, I didn't have a choice in the matter."

"Handcuffs. I didn't realize you were into that," he giggles, turning to Lisa, who looks horrified at his comment.

"Dear Lord." I take off my glasses and knead my temples. It's pointless to even try to stop him now, when he works himself up like this. How have I lived with him so long and prevented myself from murdering him?

"Nine was always popular with the ladies," Twelve explains to her. "You saw them at school, they were all clustered around him." He's grinning from ear to ear.

"I don't want to talk about this anymore." I protest loudly, but he ignores me.

"It's been like that to every school we've been to. He's only ever really cared about one, though." Lisa leans in close, listening more intently.