Everything Is Broken by John Shirley

Author:John Shirley [Shirley, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science Fiction, Horror, Thriller, novel
ISBN: 9781607012924
Publisher: Prime Books
Published: 2011-12-22T00:00:00+00:00

ELEVEN

Shivering with cold even though she wore a hoody and ski jacket, Nella was trying to make herself small, lying on her side hugging her knees on a sleeping bag in the corner of the living room opposite the front door. They were in the house with the brass crucifix on the wall.

Nella didn’t want to be there. But Dickie had chosen it as his base. He wanted some kind of independence from Ferrara. And then there was Songbird. Ferrara might not go for keeping women chained up.

There was no generator here like there was up at that Mario’s house. In this moldy living room the only light was from two Coleman lanterns, one hanging over by the door, the other on the floor by the arched entryway to the corridor. The room was even darker tonight than normal, because Dickie and Sten had nailed big pieces of scrap wood over the broken window.

The house smelled like dead things.

Maybe she could slip away, find out how to get past those blocked streets, get over to the emergency camp at the high school gym.

But she felt a despairing inertia gluing her here, on the cold floor. She was tired, and feverish. Wanting the malicious burning in her crotch to stop. She was supposed to be punished, wasn’t she, by being here? Wasn’t she already dead, really? Maybe that odor of the dead—maybe it was herself she was smelling.

She heard her mother’s voice, reading from the Bible: They are dead, they shall not live; they are deceased, they shall not rise: therefore hast thou visited and destroyed them, and made all their memory to perish.

There was a mewing sound from the corridor. It was that girl Songbird, so she called herself, sounding more like a cat than a bird.

“Please . . . ”

Dickie was standing in the open front door, with a big wad of lunchmeat in his hands. Talking to Sten outside. The Grummons were out there too. Nella was afraid of the Grummons. More now than she used to be.

“Please . . . I can’t . . . I’m cold . . . ” Almost a shriek now.

Dickie turned his head and glared at Nella. “Make yourself useful, bitch! Go and tell her to shut up, give her a blanket or something.” He took a bite out of the wad of lunchmeat and chewed, watching her.

Nella didn’t want to go near Songbird. Going near that girl was going to force her to feel things she didn’t want to feel and think about things she didn’t want to think about.

. . . and made all their memory to perish . . .

“Shut up, Mama,” she whispered.

“What’d you say?” Dickie asked, picking his teeth with a thumbnail.

“Nothing. I just . . . ”

But she was afraid of what Dickie would do if she refused to do what he wanted. Everything was different now than before the tsunami. Before, she had gotten along with the Sand Scouts better. Felt like she was one of them.

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