Astray (24 page)

“Edward Scissorhands,” I say out loud to myself. Thinking about the movie, about my date with Cody makes me feel calmer. I take the shears off the nail they’re hanging from and carry them with me out of the room and back into the dark. I imagine that the shears are an extension of my arm. I don’t want to
use
them, but it does make me feel better to
have
them.

There’s only one more door along the wall and it’s closed … and locked. There’s a large padlock threaded
through the door’s latch. I yank on it, but it doesn’t budge. They’re hiding something inside. In Mandrodage Meadows the only locks we had were on the armory, the Silo, and Pioneer’s quarters. If the Community had some kind of poison that they were able to put in the food at those restaurants, this is where they would keep it.

I press my face to the crack between the door and the frame, try to see inside. I can just make out the edge of a table and some loose wire sticking out along its edge, but that’s it. I can hear the whir of a generator, though. I need to find a way into this room, but not now, not this close to morning. If they find me here trying to bust the lock, they’ll know right away that I’m not back here because I’ve had a change of heart, and I’ll be punished. I grip the shears a little tighter.

There’s some noise outside, a revving sound. Someone is starting up one of the vans that the Rangers have been using to transport everyone into town. It’s almost dawn. I make my way back to the room where I found the rusty shears and debate about whether to keep them with me or not. In the end, I hang them back on the wall. The lighter it gets, the more ridiculous I feel with them in my hands. Foot-long shears aren’t exactly easy to hide unless I don’t take off my coat—ever. Still, it’s hard to leave them behind.

I squeeze through one of the larger gaps in the wall and walk along the back of the barn. If I’m lucky, I can make my way to my parents’ trailer without being seen. I try to think of what to tell everyone. What words will
make them believe that I’ve changed my mind? I still don’t have it figured out by the time I’m outside my parents’ place. Turns out I don’t need to. Just as I’m about to knock, the van’s horn goes off, one long uninterrupted honk that brings people to their trailer doors and out onto the path between them.

My parents’ door opens and my dad practically runs right into me before he realizes that I’m there. We stare at each other and suddenly it hits me that the car horn might be going off as an alert, a temporary alarm system … because of me. Someone saw me leaving the barn. They’ve already figured out why I’m really here.

Oh, God
.

I back away, or try to, but my dad scoops me up into a fierce hug. “Lyla, you’re here! You’ve come home.”

“I knew it, oh, thank the Brethren, I knew it!” my mom says as she emerges from inside the trailer to put her arms around my dad and me. I have to fight the urge to struggle away, to run. Around us I can hear voices, people walking down the path between trailers. I hear my name here and there and turn to see Will’s parents smiling at us like seeing me is cause for celebration. It still unnerves me to see them without hair.

“Something’s up,” Dad says over my head to my mom, and they loosen their grip on me. It must occur to them too that the car horn might be a warning, because my dad leans down and looks me right in the eye. “Is this your doing?”

He looks past me, down at the road, as if he’s expecting to see the sheriff or Cody behind me. I swallow. “No, sir. I mean I don’t think so.”

He keeps one arm around me and leads us down the stairs. My mom comes up on my other side. She’s staring at me, her face shiny and happy, her hands squeezing my arm. I have to look away because I’m afraid she’ll see how much she repulses me. She needs to think that I’m still a believer. I try to channel Past Me, the girl I saw with Cody on TV the day of Pioneer’s transfer, but it’s hard.

We follow the crowd down the path to the barn. My stomach keeps clenching and for a moment I’m almost sure that I’m about to be sick just like Cody, that somehow I’ve been poisoned too. The barn’s front doors are wide open. From inside, I can see Mr. Brown, watching us all gather in silence. He looks excited—agitated, tapping the side of his pants leg. His eyes land on me and he raises an eyebrow, but he doesn’t single me out. I exhale heavily on reflex. I didn’t realize how scared I was that this call to meet was because they’d already discovered that I’m here to figure out how they poisoned Cody and the others.

My parents pull me inside and immediately I’m surrounded by the Community. Dozens of hands reach out to squeeze my arms. Dozens of fingers reach for mine.

“Lyla, welcome home,” Heather says warmly.

Then suddenly there’s Will, grinning softly, hopefully down at me. “Lyla.” He says my name with a long, relieved sigh. It’s like he’s been holding that breath in since I left.

His eyes stand out, bluer than before, now that his hair isn’t there. “You’re here,” he says, and there’s such happiness in his voice. It hurts me to hear it.

“Everyone, please, if you could move in close, I have some news,” Mr. Brown says loudly, his voice cutting through our huddled group. “Something’s happened in town.”

The room quiets and everyone looks at him expectantly. It’s strange to be the only person here with hair. It feels like people keep stealing glances at my head.

“Pioneer’s visions are coming true. The Outsiders have been punished.”

Everyone starts talking all at once and several people clap. They all look delighted. It makes me sick. I bite my tongue and try not to show how angry their cheers make me.
How can they be happy about other people’s suffering?

Mr. Brown’s mouth quirks up into a half smile. “At least fifty of them ended up in the hospital last night with a mysterious sickness.” The way he says the word “mysterious” confirms what I already know. He did this, and Brian and Jonathan helped him. I know it, but I can’t prove it. I need to be able to prove it.

I study the other faces around me for signs that some or all of them were in on this with them. I look extra hard at my mom, but everyone seems equally surprised. They could be acting. I can’t know for sure, not yet.

“Among them were some of the very people who stormed our gates and ripped us from our home,” Mr. Brown says.

A cheer goes up then, loud and clear and sure. It hurts me—every violent shout, each of them a tiny dagger piercing my skin.

“Our persecution has been difficult to endure, but our faith has not been in vain! This is proof. The Brethren have set things in motion. It won’t be long now!” Mr. Brown’s voice goes up in volume so that by the last word he’s shouting. My mom puts her hands prayer-style against her face. Her eyes are bright and shimmering with tears.

“The end is near and now the Outsiders suffer just like Pioneer said that they would. Aren’t you glad that you didn’t waver? Aren’t you glad that you held fast to our leader and to each other?” His voice is warm and sweet, thick with emotion and full of pride.

“Yes, oh yes!”

People nod their heads vigorously. Some are rocking in place and weeping. I turn in a circle and take it all in. It’s strange to be here now, after I’ve been away from them for so long. I don’t see them the same way that I once did. What they’re doing isn’t comforting or inspiring. It’s creepy.

“And our Lyla’s come home! Just as Pioneer said she would,” my mom calls out when things wind down and the room gets quiet enough so that people can hear her. She falls on me, weeping, and I have to work to keep her upright. I want to drop her.

Just as Pioneer said she would
. I shudder.

You’re mine, Little Owl
.

I want to yell at her to stop, for all of them to wake up
already and see how crazy this all is, but instead I do what used to come much more naturally. I smile—the blank-eyed kind that so unnerves me every time I see the rest of them do it.

Mr. Brown is walking toward us—me. I try not to tremble. “Is that right, Lyla? Are you here to stay?” He looks intently at my eyes.

I nod. “Yes, brother.” My voice sounds too wobbly. I try again. “Yes, brother!” It’s better the second time and the clapping starts again.

Mr. Brown hesitates for almost a full minute before he answers me—enough time for me to worry that he can see my true intentions scrolling across my forehead. He’s frowning slightly too—which only adds to my uncertainty—but then suddenly his face smooths out and he pulls me into his chest. “Welcome back, sister. Thank the Brethren that you’ve finally seen the error of your ways.”

His arm is a little too tight around me. I wasn’t being paranoid—he is skeptical of me. They all probably are. I’ll have to prove that I’m recommitted if I’m going to stay. They won’t just let me back in and not make sure that I believe wholeheartedly again.

“Welcome home!” they all shout.

“
No!
” someone yells from across the room. I look up, try to see over the others, but everyone is too close. “She doesn’t deserve to be here. She shouldn’t be allowed to come back.”

Brian. I recognize his voice now.

“Why should we let her come back? Why should we welcome her with open arms?
She’s
the one who helped the Outsiders take our homes.
She’s
the one who put us all in danger.
She’s
to blame for my father and Marie. How can you just forgive all of it? Well, I can’t. I
won’t
!”

I can see him now, pushing through the people. The hate emanating from him makes me cringe. I have the overwhelming feeling that he’s going to hit me. But then Will steps in between us, and several of the men nearby restrain Brian.

“She’s not one of us. She was
never
one of us. Can’t you see that? Let her stay and she will
ruin
everything all over again. Wait and see. She should be sick along with the rest of them. She deserves to be sick. She deserves to be
dead
!”

The men push him backward, but it’s a struggle. Brian’s legs keep pushing off in my direction, his whole body leaning toward me. I think he might kill me himself if they let him go. I knew he was angry, but still I’m surprised at just how much.

Mr. Brown steps closer to my dad and whispers in his ear. They look at me. I try to keep my face calm, but it’s hard. I feel like Brian’s words jarred everyone and now maybe they’re rethinking welcoming me back. My mom sticks close to my side. She must sense it too. She’s finally protecting me, but only when it serves her own needs. She wants me back in the Community.

I have to try really, really hard not to pull away.

“Lyla, I’m sure you have firsthand news of what’s
happening to the Outsiders. And we’d love to know how you were able to get away and back to us.”

His tone is warm and pleasant, but his eyes are sharp. Whatever I tell them right now will determine whether they really believe that I’m back for the right reasons and not to cause trouble. It’s why I spent most of the last several hours rehearsing exactly what I should say.

I clear my throat and clasp my hands in front of me the way I’ve seen Pioneer do every time he’s had something big to tell us. It always made him look humble, and I’m hoping it will do the same for me now.

“I know that I’ve messed up,” I say. “I got confused. The sheriff and Cody …” I trail off because saying their names feels dangerous.
Can they sense how I feel about Cody in my voice or expression or movements?
“… were so nice at first and I was so curious about the world. I guess I wanted to believe that it wasn’t really the end of days. I was … I
am
scared of facing what’s coming. But when everyone started to get sick … it opened my eyes. The Outsiders turned on me. They blamed me for their punishment and tried to hurt me.” My voice is thick with emotion now. I can’t help it, not when Taylor’s last words to me are still fresh in my mind. But this is good. It will help them believe.

My mom gasps.

“I’ve been afraid of all the wrong things. I should’ve been afraid of letting down the Brethren and Pioneer and all of you. I was selfish. I was confused. I see that now,” I say, and tears fall down my cheeks, because as much as
I’m trying to put on a show, the words are starting to come far too easily. It feels like some part of me is relieved to be saying them. Is it possible that part of me half wants to believe this stuff still? That it always will? I hate the idea, hate myself for the possibility that it’s true. If I can’t be one hundred percent sure of where I stand, how do I know I’ll be capable of standing at all?

“Last night after I got away from them, I fell to my knees and asked the Brethren to forgive me and I felt like they heard me and then it was like they were leading me here, leading me home.”

I don’t dare look down once I’ve stopped talking. I’m so afraid that none of what I said made sense, much less convinced them, but I keep my smile in place and my eyes on Mr. Brown.

He waits—his eyes searching mine, neither of us blinking until I am sure he is going to call me out as a liar—before he puts an arm around me and kisses the top of my head. “Pioneer always knew you would return. You belong with us. We knew you would see it in the end. We just had to have faith. And now that you know what waits for you out there, I am sure that you will never, ever consider leaving us again. You were very lucky this time. Had you not had the Brethren’s protection, you would be sick too. A plant plucked from the soil won’t survive. It has to stay rooted, be bathed in sunlight and nurtured always. Without those things it’s doomed to wither and die.”

I nod as I look up at Mr. Brown. He sounds so much like
Pioneer now. It’s like he’s constantly channeling him. For one terrifying moment I wonder if that’s actually what’s happening. If somehow Pioneer is watching me through Mr. Brown’s eyes.

All the time I’ve been up in front of everyone, the room has been relatively silent, but now people start to speak.

“You are loved.”

“You are ours.”

“You are Chosen.”

They come up to me one by one, welcoming me again. All the people I’ve played with, worked with, sung with, cried with for the last ten years, each one of them whispering a message in my ear, each one wrapping me in their arms. And as scary as it all is, it also feels good—like a cool cloth on my forehead after a bad fever or being wrapped in a blanket just out of the dryer. I have missed them in spite of everything. Crazy or not. I can’t help myself.