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Corey's mom wasn't here. She hadn't been here since the fire.
Daniel shook his head at me. Don't say anything yet.
I accepted a Coke from him and cookies from Corey. Then I took a bowl of cereal out to Kenjii. Not ideal, but no worse than the granola bars I'd been feeding her.
As we headed back into the living room, I noticed the phone on the counter.
Daniel followed my gaze and laughed. "Um, yeah. We're holed up, waiting to notify someone that we're back ... and there's a phone. We've been in the woods way too long."
He picked it up. Sam leaped forward and grabbed it from him.
"It could be bugged," she mouthed.
Corey opened his mouth to argue, but she motioned for him to wait until she hung up. As she lowered the phone, she stopped. She looked at it. Lifted it to her ear. Frowned.
"It's dead," she said.
Corey took the phone from her. He jabbed a few buttons. Then he strode into the study and picked up another phone.
"Dead?" I said.
He nodded.
"Must be from the fire," Sam said. "I'm surprised they even have electricity."
Corey said nothing. He was staring at the empty desk. All the wires for a laptop dangled over the edge. He turned and tapped an empty shelf behind him.
"My laptop should be here." He gestured at the empty desk. "It was when I left." He turned to Daniel. "Okay, obviously between the fire and the crash, Mom hasn't come home. But she didn't take my laptop. She told me to pack it. I didn't."
"Why?" Sam said.
"Because my homework's on it," he said, in a tone that implied this was a stupid question. "Laptop perishes in the fire? I get a free pass on every assignment."
"Which I'm sure she knew you'd try, so she took it. I'm supposed to be the paranoid one, guys, and I--"
Corey was already gone, heading for the stairs again. He took them two at a time. Then he pitched forward, hands clutching his head as he let out something between a moan and a strangled cry.
Daniel raced upstairs to help him to his feet ... and Corey promptly puked on him.
"You were done with that shirt, right?" Corey mumbled as we half carried him into his room. He started to say something else, and heaved again, this time twisting enough to vomit on the floor instead.
Sidestepping the puddle, we got Corey onto his bed. He went into fetal position, hands over his head, moaning.
"Where are your pills?" Daniel said.
"Bathroom."
"We'll find them," I said, and started to go.
Corey grabbed my sleeve. "Stay."
"Good idea," Sam said. "My bedside manner sucks. I'll help Daniel."
They left. I knelt beside Corey's bed, holding his hands as he groaned and writhed, his face shiny with sweat.
"Bad?" I whispered.
"Oh yeah." He opened one eye. "Don't tell Daniel. You know how he gets. But they're a lot worse." He licked his lips and looked over my shoulder, making sure Daniel wasn't there. "It's like a flash of light splitting my skull. Then more flashes. This time--"
