Fi looked at the four of them as if they'd gone mad when she discovered them outside, banging on the door of the bus and shouting her name. "What's the matter? Are you guys okay?" she asked, opening the door, allowing them to rush aboard one by one.
"Where's Rebecca?" Jack asked urgently.
"She locked herself in the bathroom right after you left. At first, she was making a ton of noise, yelling about stuff, but she's been pretty quiet for a while. Why?"
"We think--oh, never mind," he replied, leading the others down the hall.
"What?" she demanded, following them, but no one answered.
"Rebecca?" called Molly, through the bathroom door. When no response came, Carey motioned for her to stand back, and then pushed hard on the flimsy door with his right shoulder. The door swung open easily, sending him stumbling into the bathroom and right back out again once he found the girl in question.
"Oh, God," Molly breathed, turning away.
"What is it?" Fi asked, her view blocked by the boys standing in front of her.
"She's dead," Clu told her quietly.
And she didn't ask any more questions after that.
* * *
The boys carried Rebecca out to rest beside the man she named as her father, the better to attract the attention of passing motorists, especially police. In the meantime, Molly tried to comfort Fi and explain the logistics of the plan that was swiftly forming in her mind.
"I don't understand," Fi finally said.
"She was disturbed," Molly explained gently, as if she were addressing a very small child, and Fi resisted the urge to snap that she wasn't a baby.
"No, I mean I don't understand why we have to stay here while you go out there alone."
"Well, once I find Ned and Irene, I won't be alone."
"But what if you don't find--"
"They couldn't have gotten very far. I'll be fine. The threat is gone."
"I'm not so sure, Mom. The way she was carrying on--"
"She was responsible for all of this," Molly pointed out.
"I'm not so sure," Fi repeated softly.
"Ready to go?" Carey asked, appearing suddenly in the doorway.
"Excuse me?"
"Are you ready to go get my mom and dad?"
"Yes, I guess I am, but you're not--you're not going."
"You can't go out there alone."
"Once I find them, I won't be alone," she explained once more.
"But until you do, you will be."
"The danger is over, guys. That was it. Is she dead?"
"Yeah," Jack said from behind Carey, coming forward to sit beside Fi on the couch.
"Then I'll be fine. Seriously, don't worry about me."
"Mom, he has a point," Fi pleaded.
"I don't think it's a good idea for you to go out there alone, either," Jack piped up.
"For what it's worth, I don't either," Clu offered quietly.
"Well, it's not up to you guys, it's up to--"
"I'm the second oldest person here," Carey said. "I'm going with you. Are you ready?"
She opened her mouth to protest again, but sighed instead. "All right, let's go."
* * *
Once they settled on a direction and a strategy--sticking together rther than splitting up--they walked carefully through the dark woods for a while, armed only with a pathetically inadequate mini-flashlight.
"So," Carey finally said, stepping gingerly through an area covered by dead leaves, feeling for holes with the soles of his shoes. "About what happened before. I--"
"Oh, I see," she laughed. "So much for being concerned about my safety."
"Seriously, I--"
"Carey, do you really think now is the best time to have this discussion?"
"It's the first time I've been alone with you in three weeks. Three weeks! You're really good at this."
"Yeah, avoiding serious personal discussions seems to be my special skill. Maybe I should put it on my resume under 'hobbies,' next to tennis and jogging."
"You play tennis?"
She laughed again, and walked a little faster.
"I just--"
"I think silence right now is probably a really good idea. In case somebody's yelling for help."
He whispered, "I just think that--"
"Okay," she sighed, stopping completely but still facing forward, avoiding his gaze. "Look. There are so many reasons not to think about what happened, or talk about it, or ever do it again. It's been three weeks, Carey. We just need to accept that it was what it was, and, you know, move on."
"Yeah, there are a lot of reasons that have everything to do with all of them, and nothing to do with you and me. I mean, was it really that bad? Were you feeling guilty the whole time?"
She paused, then: "Here's a reason that has everything to do with me--I barely knew your mother when she found out she was pregnant with you, but that night I shared the last joint I ever smoked with her, and we sat on my floor and listened to Joni Mitchell."
"That's anc--"
"Shh. When 'Carey' came on, she said, 'That's it. That's the name.'" And I said, but you don't even know if it's a girl or a boy yet, and she said, that's why it's perfect. It could go either way."
"I don't... what does that--"
"That's why. Okay? I'm sorry."
He nodded, looking away. "It's just... I mean, do you have any idea what it's like to finally get what you've always wanted, and then have it just taken away, for reasons beyond your control?"
"Yeah," she said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I do."
And they began to move forward again, in silence.
* * *
Five hours or five minutes could have passed before they finally found the shack buried within the forest. Molly motioned at Carey to keep quiet, which he did, as they crept around the perimeter, searching for a window clear enough to look through. But it was she who let out a scream upon discovering the body.
The meager stream of light produced by the keychain flashlight decided to fade away, succumbing finally to its hunger for fresh batteries. She squeezed her eyes closed and crouched down to meet the body face-to-face.
"Oh, no. No, no, no." Irene's eyes were wide open, leaving little doubt as to her status. Her body was relatively clean except for the bruised imprints of ten bloody fingerprints around her neck.
"Oh, my God," said Carey from behind her. Shock seemed to override their mutual ability to be truly distraught; that would surely hit them both full-force later. Right now, the primary question on his mind was simply, "Where's Dad?"
Molly couldn't answer, as she was occupied with gripping Irene's wrist, searching frantically for any sign of a pulse, irrational as the instinct might have been.
"I'm going to look inside."
And she might have said "Be careful," or he might have imagined it. Either way, it would have been a particularly useless warning.
"No, no, no, no, no," she began to mutter again, as he silently made his way around to the front of the house.
* * *
"No," she continued to insist some time later when he returned. The blood on his hands was not comforting, although she was similarly stained with the blood of someone else now, too. She looked up from Irene's stubbornly cold hands. "Did you find him?"
"Yeah," he said distantly.
"No," she said again. "Not him, too."
"Yeah," he repeated.
"No, no, no, no, no, no..."
He helped her to her feet as best he could, although she was unsteady. She leaned against him, incapable of supporting her own weight, and out of habit he brought his hands together behind her back. She closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against his chest, unable to fathom comforting anyone else ever again. "No, no, no..."
"Molly," he said, and she glanced up. But it wasn't Carey's eyes that met her own; no, he looked the same, but she couldn't be fooled. (Could she?)
"Rick?"
And he kissed her, and she didn't fight back, and she didn't ask any more questions after that.
* * *
"Where's Mom?" asked Jack as he opened the bus door to allow Carey to board.
"She found a phone in this cabin we came across," he replied. "She sent me to get you."
"Did you find your parents?" He suddenly noticed the blood on Carey's hands and arms, and the fact that his shirt was on backwards. "Hey, man, are you okay?" he asked with genuine concern.
"No," he admitted. "You've got to come with me, and we can't let the others know that anything's wrong. Your mom... she doesn't want Fi to find out yet."
"What *is* wrong?"
"I'll tell you on the way. Just--come on, we need to get back. She's waiting for us. We have to hurry."
"All right," Jack agreed, moved by the urgency of Carey's plea. "I'll just go tell Fi that we're leaving."
"Don't tell her--"
"I understand."
"Where's Rebecca?" Jack asked urgently.
"She locked herself in the bathroom right after you left. At first, she was making a ton of noise, yelling about stuff, but she's been pretty quiet for a while. Why?"
"We think--oh, never mind," he replied, leading the others down the hall.
"What?" she demanded, following them, but no one answered.
"Rebecca?" called Molly, through the bathroom door. When no response came, Carey motioned for her to stand back, and then pushed hard on the flimsy door with his right shoulder. The door swung open easily, sending him stumbling into the bathroom and right back out again once he found the girl in question.
"Oh, God," Molly breathed, turning away.
"What is it?" Fi asked, her view blocked by the boys standing in front of her.
"She's dead," Clu told her quietly.
And she didn't ask any more questions after that.
* * *
The boys carried Rebecca out to rest beside the man she named as her father, the better to attract the attention of passing motorists, especially police. In the meantime, Molly tried to comfort Fi and explain the logistics of the plan that was swiftly forming in her mind.
"I don't understand," Fi finally said.
"She was disturbed," Molly explained gently, as if she were addressing a very small child, and Fi resisted the urge to snap that she wasn't a baby.
"No, I mean I don't understand why we have to stay here while you go out there alone."
"Well, once I find Ned and Irene, I won't be alone."
"But what if you don't find--"
"They couldn't have gotten very far. I'll be fine. The threat is gone."
"I'm not so sure, Mom. The way she was carrying on--"
"She was responsible for all of this," Molly pointed out.
"I'm not so sure," Fi repeated softly.
"Ready to go?" Carey asked, appearing suddenly in the doorway.
"Excuse me?"
"Are you ready to go get my mom and dad?"
"Yes, I guess I am, but you're not--you're not going."
"You can't go out there alone."
"Once I find them, I won't be alone," she explained once more.
"But until you do, you will be."
"The danger is over, guys. That was it. Is she dead?"
"Yeah," Jack said from behind Carey, coming forward to sit beside Fi on the couch.
"Then I'll be fine. Seriously, don't worry about me."
"Mom, he has a point," Fi pleaded.
"I don't think it's a good idea for you to go out there alone, either," Jack piped up.
"For what it's worth, I don't either," Clu offered quietly.
"Well, it's not up to you guys, it's up to--"
"I'm the second oldest person here," Carey said. "I'm going with you. Are you ready?"
She opened her mouth to protest again, but sighed instead. "All right, let's go."
* * *
Once they settled on a direction and a strategy--sticking together rther than splitting up--they walked carefully through the dark woods for a while, armed only with a pathetically inadequate mini-flashlight.
"So," Carey finally said, stepping gingerly through an area covered by dead leaves, feeling for holes with the soles of his shoes. "About what happened before. I--"
"Oh, I see," she laughed. "So much for being concerned about my safety."
"Seriously, I--"
"Carey, do you really think now is the best time to have this discussion?"
"It's the first time I've been alone with you in three weeks. Three weeks! You're really good at this."
"Yeah, avoiding serious personal discussions seems to be my special skill. Maybe I should put it on my resume under 'hobbies,' next to tennis and jogging."
"You play tennis?"
She laughed again, and walked a little faster.
"I just--"
"I think silence right now is probably a really good idea. In case somebody's yelling for help."
He whispered, "I just think that--"
"Okay," she sighed, stopping completely but still facing forward, avoiding his gaze. "Look. There are so many reasons not to think about what happened, or talk about it, or ever do it again. It's been three weeks, Carey. We just need to accept that it was what it was, and, you know, move on."
"Yeah, there are a lot of reasons that have everything to do with all of them, and nothing to do with you and me. I mean, was it really that bad? Were you feeling guilty the whole time?"
She paused, then: "Here's a reason that has everything to do with me--I barely knew your mother when she found out she was pregnant with you, but that night I shared the last joint I ever smoked with her, and we sat on my floor and listened to Joni Mitchell."
"That's anc--"
"Shh. When 'Carey' came on, she said, 'That's it. That's the name.'" And I said, but you don't even know if it's a girl or a boy yet, and she said, that's why it's perfect. It could go either way."
"I don't... what does that--"
"That's why. Okay? I'm sorry."
He nodded, looking away. "It's just... I mean, do you have any idea what it's like to finally get what you've always wanted, and then have it just taken away, for reasons beyond your control?"
"Yeah," she said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I do."
And they began to move forward again, in silence.
* * *
Five hours or five minutes could have passed before they finally found the shack buried within the forest. Molly motioned at Carey to keep quiet, which he did, as they crept around the perimeter, searching for a window clear enough to look through. But it was she who let out a scream upon discovering the body.
The meager stream of light produced by the keychain flashlight decided to fade away, succumbing finally to its hunger for fresh batteries. She squeezed her eyes closed and crouched down to meet the body face-to-face.
"Oh, no. No, no, no." Irene's eyes were wide open, leaving little doubt as to her status. Her body was relatively clean except for the bruised imprints of ten bloody fingerprints around her neck.
"Oh, my God," said Carey from behind her. Shock seemed to override their mutual ability to be truly distraught; that would surely hit them both full-force later. Right now, the primary question on his mind was simply, "Where's Dad?"
Molly couldn't answer, as she was occupied with gripping Irene's wrist, searching frantically for any sign of a pulse, irrational as the instinct might have been.
"I'm going to look inside."
And she might have said "Be careful," or he might have imagined it. Either way, it would have been a particularly useless warning.
"No, no, no, no, no," she began to mutter again, as he silently made his way around to the front of the house.
* * *
"No," she continued to insist some time later when he returned. The blood on his hands was not comforting, although she was similarly stained with the blood of someone else now, too. She looked up from Irene's stubbornly cold hands. "Did you find him?"
"Yeah," he said distantly.
"No," she said again. "Not him, too."
"Yeah," he repeated.
"No, no, no, no, no, no..."
He helped her to her feet as best he could, although she was unsteady. She leaned against him, incapable of supporting her own weight, and out of habit he brought his hands together behind her back. She closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against his chest, unable to fathom comforting anyone else ever again. "No, no, no..."
"Molly," he said, and she glanced up. But it wasn't Carey's eyes that met her own; no, he looked the same, but she couldn't be fooled. (Could she?)
"Rick?"
And he kissed her, and she didn't fight back, and she didn't ask any more questions after that.
* * *
"Where's Mom?" asked Jack as he opened the bus door to allow Carey to board.
"She found a phone in this cabin we came across," he replied. "She sent me to get you."
"Did you find your parents?" He suddenly noticed the blood on Carey's hands and arms, and the fact that his shirt was on backwards. "Hey, man, are you okay?" he asked with genuine concern.
"No," he admitted. "You've got to come with me, and we can't let the others know that anything's wrong. Your mom... she doesn't want Fi to find out yet."
"What *is* wrong?"
"I'll tell you on the way. Just--come on, we need to get back. She's waiting for us. We have to hurry."
"All right," Jack agreed, moved by the urgency of Carey's plea. "I'll just go tell Fi that we're leaving."
"Don't tell her--"
"I understand."