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good-nights and he left me alone in his bedroom, I couldn t fall asleep.
Instead, I looked around the room for a pen and paper. On the floor, between
the bed and the wall, I found a sketchbook with a drawing pencil tucked into
the coiled binding. It would do.
I flipped open the cover and paused. An incredibly beautiful, almost
photographic-looking drawing of a sleeping child took up the first page. In
the margin, in distinctly masculine handwriting that sharply contrasted the
skilled lines of the drawing, was written,Ziggy, age eleven.
Turning the pages, I found a succession of similar drawings. They were mostly
ofZiggy at various stages of his teen years, sleeping. From what little I knew
ofZiggy , I realized the only time he d hold still long enough to be sketched
would be while he was unconscious. The few portraits ofZiggy awake were
accompanied by photos paper-clipped to them. I flipped to the last pages,
hoping to find some blank sheets. The final drawing froze my blood in my
veins.
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It was like looking at a photograph of the night we d first met. He d
obviously drawn it from memory, as the coat I d worn ended at the hips, not
the knees, and my hair had been up, not curling softly around my shoulders.
But it was unmistakably me.
I was flattered, but I couldn t help but wonder what kind of freak spent time
in moony daydreams about someone they d known for less than two weeks.
But then again, what kind of freak trades their freedom for the life of
someone they ve known for less than two weeks?
Trembling, I pulled the page free from the binding and folded it small enough
to fit into the back pocket of my jeans. Something to remember him by, I
supposed. Then I tore out a blank piece and started writing.
The first letter I wrote was easier than I expected. My resignation from the
hospital was simple, professional and, as it was handwritten in pencil on
notebook paper, probably the last nail in the coffin of my medical career.
But it really wouldn t matter. Nathan was right. Eventually, people would
notice I didn t age. Unlike Nathan, there was no way I d ever pass for forty.
Judging from how often I ve been carded buying beer, I could barely pass for
twenty-one. I d have to redo college and medical school every ten years just
to keep being a doctor. It would be like hell, only worse.
I d slip that letter under the door of Dr. Fuller s office before I arrived
at Cyrus s house tomorrow night.
I took out another sheet and began the more difficult farewell.
Nathan,
I m not going to pretend we ll ever see each other again, at least not on
friendly terms. I ve decided that the best place for me is with my sire.
Please know that while I wish you only the best, I understand you have a job
to do for the Movement. I won t take it personally if you try to follow that
assignment through, but be aware that I will fight you with my last breath. No
one has the power to decide whether I live or die. If you ever felt the
slightest friendship toward me, you ll forget I ever existed.
Carrie
Ten
Sunset
As much as I tried to ignore what I was about to do, I couldn t quiet my mind
enough to sleep. Instead, I consolidated my clothes into a shopping bag and
waited, staring at Nathan s alarm clock like a death row inmate. Soon, my time
would be up.
For a while, I listened to Nathan puttering around in the living room. Though
he d claimed to be set on an evening of reviewing insurance forms and serious
concentration, all I heard was the popping of microwave popcorn and Led
Zeppelin. He listened toHouses of the Holy twice before I heard the springs of
the couch creak as he settled in to sleep.
Ziggyleft at about eight o clock. When I heard him return at noon, I opened
the bedroom door and waited for him to notice that I was awake.
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It didn t take him long. His stocky frame filled the doorway, and he toyed
with the huge skull ring on his index finger to avoid looking at me. So, my
guess is you re leaving.
Yes. I sat on the edge of the bed, which was currently experiencing the
foreign pleasure of clean sheets. I don t want to overstay my welcome.
You made a deal with Cyrus. He didn t pose it as a question. The kid wasn t
a fool.
I d appreciate it if you didn t tell Nathan about it. He doesn t need to
know.
And I m going to lie to Nate because you ve done what for me lately? Ziggy
demanded.
I m asking you not to tell him as a friend. I don t want him to get hurt.
Why? Are you going to hurt him? he asked as he turned to look into the
living room, pulling a wooden stake from his back pocket. Nate s my dad. He s
taken care of me since I was nine years old. There s no reason not to kill you
if you re threatening him.
I m not threatening him. I just don t want him coming after me. Cyrus would
kill him.
Ziggylaughed. Yeah, like you re not trying to save your ass the only way you
know how. What the fuck do you want?
I wanted to forget all this had ever happened and get some sleep. I wanted to
wake up and help them salvage smoke-damaged dream catchers from the shop. I
wanted anything but to go back to Cyrus s house. I d spend an eternity in that
house. But I just handed him my letter. Give this to him after I ve gotten a
head start.
He didn t read it immediately, like I thought he would. Fine.Anything else?
I watched him slip the note into his pocket, and I closed my eyes. My throat
suddenly went dry. No.
He likes you. This is really going to tear him up.
The softly spoken declaration should have surprised me. But since I d found
Nathan s drawing, I d come to that conclusion on my own. I know.
But you re still going? There was cold judgment in his tone. Look, it s
not like he s going to be heartbroken or anything. But for what it s worth,
the whole time I ve lived with him, he s never shown this much interest in
anyone.
That s very sweet. I wished I knew how to make him understand. I d never
idealized romantic love as an adolescent, but maybeZiggy had. From his
standpoint, just the possibility of a relationship should have been enough to
make me stay.
Nathan has been a big help, but I don t think of him that way. I ve given
this a lot of thought. It s the right choice.
He worked for fifteen years getting this place going. He knows you for a
week and he s right back to the beginning. And you run straight to the bad
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guy. It s not fair.
It was a trade,Ziggy . To get the antidote, to save Nathan, I had to make a
trade.
The implication of my words sunk in andZiggy looked like I d slapped him.
Why would you do something like that?
I shrugged. I m a doctor. I m supposed to save lives and help people. And
Cyrus needs me. I wished I could take the words back. Not becauseZiggy had
heard them, but because by saying them, I d acknowledged the truth. Nathan
can t know about this.
Are you nuts? His young face lit up with relief. All yougotta do istell
him what s going on. He ll take care of everything.
No! I said a little too loudly, and I heard Nathan roll restlessly on the
couch. I explained more quietly, If Cyrus kills him, what good was the deal I
made? I ll still be stuck with him, and Nathan will be dead. It will all have
been for nothing.
Then why are you telling me?
I chewed my lip. I guess because& I don t want you both to hate me.
If you re going to be with him he stopped and shook his head in disbelief
if you re going to be like him, Nateis going to hate you. But I won t let
him bad-mouth you too much.
That s all I can ask, I said with a smile. The expression onZiggy s face
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