AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Maybe so.” I liked the idea a lot. Too much, really—nobody should want to have walking pneumonia—but it beat the alternative.
Lucas sat back down on the bed, more cheerful than he’d been since the planetarium. “So, we’ll get you to the doctor. He can check you out, figure out what’s wrong.”
It sounded like a good idea, save one thing. Hesitantly, I said, “Can we pay for the doctor?”
“We’ve got enough money for a visit to the clinic. It sets us back, but—we can manage.”
“If I need antibiotics—Lucas, that stuff can be really expensive—”
“If you need antibiotics, we’ll sell the car.”
“The stolen car?”
“What other car would I be talking about?” Lucas wouldn’t meet my eyes.
“Lucas, that would be wrong! That belongs to somebody who probably wants it back.” I couldn’t believe he’d said such a thing. “Besides, how would you even do it? The car is stolen. It’s not so easy to sell a stolen car. I’ve seen it on TV; there are serial numbers and all kinds of things to track it down.”
He sighed heavily. “Bianca, I work at a chop shop.”
I was confused. What was a chop shop? The first thing that made me think about was chop suey, and I imagined a Chinese restaurant. But Lucas worked at a garage. “I don’t understand.”
“A chop shop is a garage that deals in stolen cars.” Lucas stared down at his hands as he said this, rubbing absently at the raw skin on his wrists. “We scrape off the VINs, break ’em down for parts, repaint them, doctor license plates, whatever people need. I’m not proud of it. But I can do it.”
“Why would you work at a place like that?”
“Bianca, get real. I’m shy of my twenty-first birthday, and I don’t even have a high school diploma, much less any certifications as a mechanic. Who else do you think would hire me? I hate working with crooks. I hate it so much, some mornings it makes me sick. But I have to do something so we can survive, and a place like this—that’s pretty much the only place that would hire me.”
My cheeks burned. I felt so stupid, for not having realized the situation we were in. Lucas’s pride must have tormented him every single day; he believed strongly in right and wrong. He did this job only because he thought he had to for us.
Gently I laid my hand on his. “I understand.”
“Wish I did, sometimes.” Lucas shook it off. “Listen, I know the rightful owner of that car deserves to have it back. But I’d bet a million bucks that he doesn’t need it back because he needs the cash to get medicine for someone he loves. If he knew that—if he knew how badly you need it—you think he might not be so angry?”
I nodded, blinking fast. I had become a burden, and we were becoming criminals. It hurt, but I had to face the consequences of our choices—and of my nature.
It turned out there was a free clinic at one of the local hospitals, so Lucas took a day off and went with me. The minute we walked in, we could see why it was free. Every chair in the waiting room was filled, some with old people who looked lonely and lost, others by entire families who seemed to have come together. Coughing echoed from every corner. Yellowed posters on the wall warned against various health risks and seemed way too focused on STDs.
I put my name at the end of a really long list, just some Xeroxed sheets on a battered old clipboard. The whole place smelled like Lysol.
“Sit down,” Lucas said. “Let’s get you off your feet.”
Although I would’ve liked to tell him not to be such a mother hen, I really did need to sit down. I felt weak, and my body kept flushing hot and cold at odd moments. Sometimes I wanted a blanket; other times, even my sundress seemed stifling.
Lucas sat next to me, and we leafed through some of the magazines lying around in the waiting room. They were mostly about being parents of little kids. The covers showed happy, healthy, beaming children who didn’t bear much resemblance to the wailing infants I saw around us. All the magazines were faded and dog-eared; the first one I picked up was nearly two years old.
“This place is creepy,” I whispered to Lucas.
“Doesn’t seem too bad,” he said with a shrug. I realized that Lucas probably had never been taken anywhere else for medical care; Black Cross wouldn’t pay for much, and they would never have been in one place long enough for him to have a regular doctor.
I remembered my pediatrician back in Arrowwood, Dr. Diamond. He’d been a kindly man with glasses who always let me pick out Band-Aids with my favorite cartoon characters on them before he gave me a shot. Mom said they’d taken me to him from the time I was a tiny baby, and I’d only just become too old for his practice when we moved to Evernight. In all that time, giving me vaccinations and checking my reflexes, he’d never noticed anything especially odd about me—though he did mention, once, how my mother seemed ageless.
My experiences with Dr. Diamond had convinced me that, if I were only sick with some normal virus, a physician would be able to help. If the problem was something vampiristic, well, I’d be out of luck—but the doctor would be none the wiser.
It took forever for them to call my name, but they finally did. Lucas gave me a wave as I headed inside.
A heavyset nurse whose nametag read SELMA walked into the exam room after me. “What seems to be the problem?”
“I’m having dizzy spells.” The paper atop the table crinkled as I sat upon it. “And I never want to eat anymore.”
