Contain (6 page)

Bren, Bix, and I spend more time in
the bunker's common room on the top level than we usually do. With
decorated walls, hand-built couches, a small stack of books, and a
few homemade board games, it's the closest thing we have to
anything resembling the luxuries of the old world. It's where we go
to pretend we're not the last uninfected people on the planet. And
it's where we are when Jonah walks in on us.

The tension level immediately raises
several notches.

Bix and Bren are in the
middle of a heated debate about junk food. They know not to expect
too much input from me, as I've never mastered the art of small
talk. It's beyond me how people could devote so much time and
thought into why a
Milky Way
bar is so much better than a
Snickers
, or why
Coke
over
Pepsi
. It seems like so much
unnecessary self-torture.

The discussion ceases as Jonah settles
into one of the empty armchairs. He gives us an expectant look
before sucking in a breath of air, as if he's about to launch into
a speech of his own. Bix groans and shakes his head, but Jonah
ignores him.

Since the day after the meeting, the
subject of replacing Dad as the group's leader hasn't come up in my
presence. I'd been hoping it would just pass, that once the dust
settled from Eddie's accident, everyone'd realize what a crappy job
it is to be in charge. I mean, who really wants all that
responsibility? I sure as hell don't, and I told Dad exactly that.
Even I can see the toll it's taken on him. The fact that I haven't
been sleeping very well the past few nights convinces me I'm
totally the wrong man for the job.

But just because nobody's spoken with
me about it, doesn't mean it hasn't been on people's minds and
tongues. That much becomes clear as soon as Jonah
speaks.

“
Poll numbers are in,” he
smugly announces. “Your dad lost the vote.” He glares at me,
willing me to challenge him. Or maybe he expects me to run away and
find my father.

Bix immediately jumps up.
“What the hell are you talking about? There wasn't any vote! The
rules say
everyone
has to vote on—”

“
Chill,
Blackeye.”

Jonah has been calling him that for
the past year, ever since Bix showed up with double shiners after
falling asleep during watch and slamming his forehead into the edge
of the table. It probably wouldn't have stuck if Bix's last name
weren't Blakeley. He also lets it get to him, which is exactly what
Jonah wants.

This time, however, Bix ignores the
taunt and turns to me. “Can he do that? He can't do
that.”

Jonah starts laughing, which only
makes us angrier.

“
Don't listen to him, Bix,”
Bren says. “He's just being a pissant.”

“
Am I?” Jonah asks. “It's a
done deal, sister. Abraham Bolles is out.”

Bix steps over to him, his
fists clenched, which takes us all by surprise. He's actually
shaking with rage. “You know what your problem is?” he shouts.
“You're an ass. You've never even
tried
to be a part of all this.
You're an outsider, always criticizing and making things hard for
everyone else.”

“
You're the outsider,
Blackeye.”

“
At least I don't try to
stir up trouble everywhere I go, making everyone believe we can
just get up and leave.”

“
Bix,” I say. I don't want
this to end up in a situation he can't win. “Calm down.”

“
Calm down? I'm gonna go
all Crouching Tiger on his Hidden Dragonfly ass.”

“
I'd like to see that,”
Jonah taunts.

Bren stands up and gets between them.
She may be small, but she can pack an awful lot of power. I roll my
eyes and stand up and join them.

Now it's three against one. He'll have
to back down. I'm actually surprised how easily he does. He looks
over at me, and his eyes pass over me from head to foot and back
again, and he shakes his head and steps back.

I used to be scrawny, but in the three
years we've been here, I've put on muscle.

Of course, I still don't know a lick
about fighting.

Jonah holds up his hands in a
conciliatory manner. “Look, I'll be the first to credit Finn's dad
with establishing order in this place from the very beginning. He's
done well enough for three years with what little he had to work
with. But you all have to admit, the situation has
changed.”

“
The situation hasn't
changed,” Bix snaps. “And you've never given Finn's dad credit for
anything, so stop acting so gracious.”

Jonah places a palm on Bix's chest and
casually pushes him out of the way so he and I can face each other.
To his credit, Bix yields just the one step.

“
The situation
has
changed,” he
reasserts. “And you all know it. Some of you better than others.”
He looks at Bren when he says this. “The outbreak is over, the
infection gone. Nobody's seen a Wraith in months. The danger's
passed. We need to start thinking about the next phase of our
survival.”

“
Maybe no Wraiths
here
,” Bix counters.
“That doesn't mean they're not still out there somewhere
else.”

He shrugs. “So you're perfectly happy
stuck inside this place? You'd rather keep living here
forever?”

“
Nobody believes it's going
to be forever,” I say.

“
Says the one person who
secretly hopes it is.”

“
I do not!”

“
If it were me, I'd have
been gone a long time ago.” He points off to the side, indicating
the world outside the bunker. “Your dad knows perfectly well what's
waiting for us out there now. Everyone else is dead, and that
includes the Wraiths. He's only keeping us locked up in here
because he can't face the truth that the rest of your family is
de—”

I launch myself at him before I
realize what I'm doing, before Jonah can even react. Bix reaches
out for me, but I bat his hand away and grab Jonah's shirt, yanking
him to his toes. The thin material rips, but I don't care. All I
want to do is wipe that smug smile off his face.

“
Finn!” Bren yells. I feel
her hands on my shoulders, gripping, pulling, but I'm beyond reason
now. All those years of being picked on in school, the past three
years of unchallenged torment by Jonah, my own frustration with my
father, all of that becomes focused in my hands, which pull him
toward me until his face is mere inches from mine.

For a moment I think I see pain in his
eyes, but then it's gone. “Go ahead,” Jonah whispers. “I know you
want to.”

That stops me.

He takes the opportunity to wrap his
hands around my wrists. “They're dead,” he repeats. “I'm sorry,
man, but you know it as well as I. The sooner you can admit it, the
sooner your father can admit it, the quicker we'll all be able to
move on with our lives.”

I stare at him. There's not a flicker
of emotion in his eyes, nothing but that dark, relentless,
condescending look. Almost without effort, he pries my hands apart.
I refuse to let go, but he's a lot stronger than me. His shirt
tears even more. I know he must be aware of it, too, but it doesn't
make him stop. He keeps pulling, and my hands keep squeezing, and
his shirt keeps tearing. Even if I wanted to let go, I couldn't. My
hands are locked in his grip.

So I do the only thing I can think of
to stop him: I knee him in the groin.

Surprise and pain flickers across his
face. It erases the smirk, but then it leaves something dark and
scary in its wake, and I immediately realize my mistake. I'd
stopped myself at the very last moment, held back from putting
everything into the attack. Now, all I've done is piss him off,
given him an excuse to fully vent his fury. It's probably what he
was hoping for all along.

The next thing I know, my back is on
the cold hard floor and Jonah's on top of me, pinning me down with
his body. He still has my hands in his, trying to immobilize them
so he can start punching me. Or choking me. His breath is hot on my
face.

“
Get off of me, you
son-of-a-bitch!” I shout. Bren and Bix are a blur behind Jonah.
They're yelling and slapping at him, but he doesn't even flinch
from their blows. He smiles and throws an elbow back, catching Bix
right on the nose. Bix goes down with a yelp, blood spurting from
both nostrils. Bren tries to pull Jonah away from us. She's
screaming at us to stop.

I shout with rage and buck beneath
Jonah's body and manage to throw him off balance. He nearly tumbles
over my head, yet he somehow manages to stay on me by thrusting a
hand out and planting it onto the floor. Now, with one hand free, I
reach up and plant my palm against his chin and push.

He knocks it away. “If it were me,” he
hisses, “I'd be out there looking for them if I believed for a
goddamn second they were still alive.”

“
Easy for you to say!” I
snarl. “You have your whole family here. Lucky you.”

That rage flickers in his eyes again.
I can't tell what it means, but in a flash, it's gone.

I don't let the opportunity go to
waste. My fist slams into his cheek and knocks him off balance just
enough that I'm able to slither out from under him. But he quickly
recovers, and he lunges. His fingers rake across my neck before
they clamp onto my shoulder.

I won't let him win this time. I won't
be the loser. I'm sick of being the loser.

I grab his shirt and yank.
Our heads knock against each other with a loud
CRACK!
I see stars for a moment,
before hands are all over me, pulling me to my feet, forcing us
apart. There are shouts, buzzing in my ears, but only one of them
breaks through the din— my father's. “Finn!” he cries. “Stop this
nonsense right now!”

I stumble backward and shrug the hands
off of me. Several of the adult men are there. They pull Jonah
away, but he immediately steps back toward me. A line of blood
trickles down his forehead. He's panting like an injured animal. My
own head is pounding. My heart is racing.

“
What's this all about?” my
father demands.

I glare at Jonah, who doesn't
volunteer an explanation. He reaches up, touches the cut. Then
licks the blood off his fingers. All while staring at
me.

“
Son?”

“
He said you're out as
leader,” I manage to say.

Dad stares at me for a moment, shaking
his head. “You're an adult now, Finn. Both of you are. This isn't a
schoolyard.”

“
He said there was a vote
and that you're out!”

“
There was no
vote.”

Jonah's eyes narrow. He looks like
he's considering punching my father.

“
But he is right about me
being out,” Dad says.

The room spins as I turn my head too
fast. “What? How?”

“
I've offered to step
down.”

There's going to be a vote, once Eddie's condition is stable. Or he
dies. For better or for worse, we'll all be deciding whether to
keep my father in charge or replace him with someone else. Until
then, Dad's still officially the group's leader. That was the deal
he made.

Is it wrong that I'm glad Eddie's
condition doesn't change, even though I know how terribly unfair it
is to Hannah? Each day arrives and he's still alive, still
fighting, and I breathe a sigh of relief, as much for my dad as for
hers. Each day ends just as it started.

Eddie's survival strains everyone's
credulity. Yet the look in Doc Cavanaugh's eyes speak of more than
just bewilderment. She's hiding something. But whenever I ask her
about it, she's evasive. And so's my dad. It doesn't help that
she's completely restricted access to Eddie's room, even to Hannah,
who can only sit outside in the hallway and wait.

Jonah certainly seems to be enjoying
our torment. He takes every opportunity to remind me that my
father's days are numbered, as if the impending vote is already a
done deal, and that it somehow validates his lie about my father
already being voted out.