The Shade of the Moon (13 page)

Julie hadn’t believed him when he told her about Miranda and Alex. “It’s a sin,” she’d
said. “Alex doesn’t sin.”

But Alex was human. He was a teenage boy, and Jon was a teenage boy, and Julie was
there. She was convenient.

Except that day was the last one she was going to be there. Dad and Lisa, Gabe, Julie,
Alex, Miranda, and Charlie were going to leave the next day to make their way to Sexton.
They had no idea what they’d find there. But it was an enclave, and Alex had three
passes.

Jon and Julie had gone to town that day to get the bags of food they were entitled
to. They’d been walking home when the weather turned bad, and they’d run for shelter
into one of the many empty houses on the road.

The house was furnished. People left or died, but the houses stayed the same.

They put the bags down and began to kiss. They’d been kissing for over two weeks.
Twice, when Julie was certain they were alone, she’d let him touch her breasts.

Alex had been talking for as long as they’d been in Pennsylvania about taking Julie
away, but somehow it never seemed to happen. Tomorrow it was going to happen, though.
Maybe it was because everybody was leaving, but Jon felt desperate. He’d be left alone
with Mom and Matt and Syl while everyone else was going to have a chance to live with
other people. He was trapped.

It wasn’t enough to kiss, to touch. He was almost fifteen, and his life was over,
and he’d never known a woman. This was his last chance, his only chance. He loved
her. She had to let him just this once.

Julie broke away from him. “No,” she said. “Jon. No.”

He couldn’t understand why she was saying that. She’d said she loved him when he’d
touched her breasts. She must want him as much as he wanted her. This was her chance
as much as it was his.

But she fought him, shouting for him to stop. Which he wouldn’t do. Not then, their
last day, his last chance.

Julie was tough. She clawed at him, tried kneeing him. But Jon was six inches taller,
thirty pounds heavier, stronger, better fed. It was a fight he was bound to win, but
he didn’t want it that way. He loved her. Didn’t she know that?

“I love you, Julie,” he said, convinced that would make her quiescent. You told a
girl you loved her, she’d agree to anything. That’s what the guys at school had always
said. You said the magic words, and the girl was yours.

But Julie didn’t seem to understand the rules. She didn’t say, “I love you, too,”
or “Oh, Jon, Jon,” or not talk at all, but still let him have her.

Instead she kept trying to get away. The harder she tried, the angrier he got, the
more he felt the need to make her his.

For three years this had been his memory of Julie. Her frantic cries for him to stop.
Her struggle to escape.

Since he’d moved to the enclave, Jon had never taken a grubber girl by force. The
other guys did without a second thought. That’s what the girls were there for.

But Jon wasn’t a rapist. Not in White Birch, not back in Pennsylvania. He didn’t rape
Julie, no matter what he had led Sarah to believe. He’d wanted Julie more than he’d
wanted anything in his life, but he’d honestly believed she wanted him, too. He did
love her. He would have stopped.

But Julie didn’t know that. Somehow she broke away from him and ran outside, into
the storm.

Jon had followed her, intending to calm her down before she went home and told everyone
what he’d tried to do. Dad and Lisa loved Julie like a daughter, and Mom—well, Mom
would have taken Julie’s side. He had to talk to Julie before she ruined his life.

Once Jon got outside, he realized the only thing that mattered was getting Julie indoors
to safety. The rain had turned to hail, the wind was tornado level, and in the distance
Jon could see a funnel cloud.

“Julie!” he screamed. “Julie! Come inside!”

But she didn’t listen, or if she did, she was more scared of him than the weather.
She was a city girl. She didn’t know the power of a tornado. All she knew was Jon
was taller and stronger and didn’t know what “No!” meant.

He managed to grab her just as the twister bore down. He flung Julie to the ground,
lying on top of her, a human cross.

But Julie wiggled out from under him, not realizing that he was trying to protect
her. She fought to stand up, but the wind pushed so hard against her that it bent
her over.

Jon faced the same battle. It was a slow-motion chase, like in a cartoon, the wind
a wall against which Julie and Jon struggled to free themselves.

“Hold on!” he shouted, grabbing hold of a tree. But Julie didn’t hear him or wouldn’t
listen. She kept trying to run.

Then the wind got her. It lifted her and threw her down against the ground.

He held on to the tree until the wind lessened. Only then did Jon go to her body.

She’s dead, he thought. She’ll never tell.

But only her body was dead. Julie’s mind was still alive. The terror in her eyes screamed
of life.

She was completely helpless now, Jon realized. All she had was her mind and her fear.

“No,” she said to him. “Jon, no.”

He stared at her. All their friendship, all their love, had died along with Julie’s
arms and legs. She’d run into a storm and the storm had killed her, and still she
feared what Jon would do to her.

“Julie, it’s all right,” Jon said, knowing it wasn’t, it never would be. “I have to
get help. I have to find Alex and get help.”

“I can’t move,” she said. “I can’t feel anything.”

“I know,” he said. “But I have to go. They don’t know where we are, Julie. I have
to tell them where you are.”

“I’m scared, Jon,” she said. “I’m so scared.”

He wanted to pick her up, hold her in his arms, comfort her. But he’d lost the right
to touch her.

“I’ll be back,” he said instead. “Pray, Julie. Pray.”

He brought Matt and Dad back to her. Alex was missing, Miranda hysterical. Charlie
was dead, and Lisa and Gabe were trapped.

Julie had lingered for two days. He’d never gone to see her, to beg forgiveness.

But she never told. Maybe it was because Alex didn’t get back in time and Lisa couldn’t
get out to see her. The only people Julie saw in those hours before she died were
his family, his father, mother, brother, sister. And none of them indicated to Jon
that Julie had told them anything.

She’d said she loved him and she did. She protected him when she wouldn’t allow him
to protect her. She’d faced her death bravely. Perhaps she even forgave him.

But Jon could never forgive himself. He hadn’t raped Julie, but he’d killed her.

The rain fell on him, but it couldn’t wash away his sins. Nothing could. Julie would
haunt him for the rest of his life. She controlled him in death as she never had in
life. She was his hell.

Sunday, June 21

“I don’t believe this,” Mom fumed. “I spent three hours waiting to get into the store
yesterday, and I forgot to buy soap.”

“We can live without soap for a week,” Miranda said. “Don’t worry about it, Mom.”

“We can’t live without it,” Mom said sharply. “Not with all those chemicals you work
with. It’s dangerous enough for the baby. You’ve got to wash them off you whenever
you can. No, I’ll go back. Maybe the line won’t be so long today.”

“Mom, it’s always worse on Sunday,” Miranda said.

“I’ll go,” Jon said. “Soap and what else?”

“I hate it when you go,” Mom said. “It’s taking advantage of the system.”

“That’s exactly what it is,” Alex said. “And it’s the one advantage we can take. Thanks,
Jon. I don’t think we need anything else.”

“I’ll go with you,” Carlos said. “I could use a breath of fresh air.”

“Good luck finding some,” Alex said.

Jon didn’t blame Carlos for wanting to get out. The tension was palpable. Mom’s outburst
about soap had felt like a volcano spewing steam.

“The market’s about five blocks away,” Jon told Carlos as they began the walk. “Mom
does the shopping Saturday afternoons because her school day ends at noon.”

“How many markets are there in White Birch?” Carlos asked.

“Two or three, I guess,” he said. “At different ends of town.” Sexton, with a third
of the population, had four markets, although he’d never been inside of one.

Carlos grinned. “We were cleaning out a town,” he said, “back when I was a Marine,
and the townspeople, the ones who were left, got it into their heads to use a supermarket
as a fortress. I don’t know what they thought they were doing. There must have been
a couple hundred people in there.”

“How did you get them out?” Jon asked.

“Tear gas,” Carlos replied. “Most of them surrendered. We made them scrub that supermarket
down. Didn’t want the clavers tasting tear gas in their lettuce.”

“Do you miss the Marines?” Jon asked.

“A little,” Carlos said. “The work was dirty, but there was a sense of, I don’t know.
Brotherhood, I guess. We were all in it together, no matter how bad things got. But
being a guard’s good, too. Fewer people to salute.”

“My brother Matt is a courier,” Jon said. “He seems to like it.”

“It’s a good job,” Carlos said. “Any job’s a good job nowadays.” He laughed. “Never
thought Alex would end up a bus driver. He was planning on being president.”

“Well, that didn’t happen,” Jon said. “Now he’ll be satisfied owning a truck.”

“Doesn’t look like that’s gonna happen, either,” Carlos said.

“Why?” Jon asked.

“You ever play poker, kid?” Carlos asked.

Jon nodded.

“You know how you can be hot? Every card you touch turns into a flush, an inside straight.
You start with a pair and end up with a full house.”

“I’ve never had that kind of luck,” Jon said.

“It feels like it’s never going to end,” Carlos said. “It’s magic. You keep upping
the ante, especially if you need the money for a truck. And then the cards go cold
on you. So you keep betting more, figuring your luck’ll return, only it doesn’t. It
never does.”

“You gambled away your share of the money,” Jon said.

“That’s Alex’s attitude,” Carlos said. “I prefer to think of it as an investment gone
sour.”

Well, Lisa will be happy, Jon thought. Miranda will be her grub for a long, long time.

The line for the market was two blocks long. “They’ll be here till curfew,” Carlos
said.

Jon nodded. It was lucky Mom shopped on Saturday.

He and Carlos walked to the head of the line. Jon showed one of the guards his claver
ID badge.

“Come on in,” the guard said, escorting them into the store.

“I just need soap,” Jon said.

“Where’s the soap?” the guard shouted.

“Aisle four, on the left!”

The guard walked with Jon and Carlos to the shelf with soap. There were four bars.

“Take ’em all,” the guard said. “You’re entitled.”

Jon hesitated. He could get any girl he wanted in White Birch for a bar of soap. A
quick look at Carlos showed he was thinking the same thing.

“Three’ll do,” Jon said. He left one bar on the shelf and walked out of the store
escorted by the guard and Carlos.

“Here,” he said to the guard, handing him one of the bars. “Thank you.”

“Thank you, sir,” the guard said.

Jon handed the second bar to Carlos. “Have fun,” he said.

Carlos took the soap, then pulled out his knife and cut it in quarters. “Four quarters,
four girls,” he said. “They’d probably take eighths, but I’ll be generous.”

“Just don’t tell Mom,” Jon said. “She sent me for one bar, and if she knew I took
more, she’d get really mad.”

Carlos laughed. “I like your mother,” he said. “She’s got guts. I like Miranda, too.
That kind of surprised me.”

“You mean because she’s Alex’s kind of girl?” Jon asked.

“I didn’t even know Alex liked girls,” Carlos said. “I always figured he’d bring some
boy home to meet the folks.”

Jon laughed. “He’s crazy about Miranda,” he said. “And he’s never made a pass at me.”

“No, I know,” Carlos said. “I could tell how much he loved her when he saw me in Texas.
Funny. He never needed my approval before, but he wasn’t gonna marry her without my
okay. Not after what she did to Julie.”

Jon stopped, then clutched the bar of soap. If he asked what Miranda had done, Carlos
would never tell him. And whatever it was Carlos knew, Jon had to find out.

“I didn’t know you knew,” Jon said, trying to sound casual.

“Oh yeah, I know,” Carlos said. “Alex told me. It threw me. It still does. Miranda
seems so sweet. You wouldn’t expect her . . . Well, she’s your sister. You know her
better than I do.”

“It surprised me, too,” Jon said, burning with the need to know what Miranda had done.
“When I found out. But things were desperate.”

“That’s what Alex said,” Carlos said, rolling the soap quarters in his hand. “I gotta
tell you, though. I’ve killed plenty of people, probably some kids, too. You get the
order to shoot, you don’t look to see who you’re shooting. But I don’t think I could
ever kill someone the way that sister of yours did. So cold. Alex said she did it
to spare Julie. Sleeping pills, so Julie wouldn’t know what was gonna happen. Pillow
over her mouth to smother her to death. Miranda swore to him Julie slept through the
whole thing, that the last thing she did was pray, so she died in a state of grace.
That kind of thing’s important to Alex. At least it used to be. Now, I don’t know.
He married his sister’s murderer. Not what they taught us in catechism.”