The disgust coiled in my gut. He didn’t feel sorry about doing any of this, that was clear. Maybe I had lied about what I was, but I hadn’t damned another kid to do so. Was that what having control over your Orange abilities turned you into? Some kind of monster—someone who could do whatever you wanted, because no one was capable of stopping you?
Was that what being powerful was like?
“So you can make people believe they’re someone they’re not?” Cate said. “I thought Oranges could only command someone to do something. Sort of like hypnosis?”
“Nah,” Martin said. “I can do much more than that. I get people to do what I want by making them feel what I want them to feel. Like that kid I switched places with? I made him feel too scared to stay in his cabin, made him feel like it would be a good idea to pretend to be me. Anyone who questioned me—I made them feel crazy for doing it. So I can sort of command people to do stuff, but it’s more like, if I want someone to hurt someone else, I have to make him feel really, really pissed at the person I want him to attack.”
“Huh,” Cate said. “Is it the same for you, Ruby?”
No. Not at all, in fact. I looked down at my hands, to the dark mud still caked under my fingernails. The thought of revealing exactly what I could do made them shake in a way I hadn’t expected. “I don’t throw feelings into someone; I just see things.”
At least, as far as I knew.
“Wow . . . I just . . . wow. I know I keep saying this, but you two are really something amazing. I keep thinking of all the things you could do—how much help you’ll be to us. Incredible.”
Twisting around, I lifted my head just enough to look out to the road. Behind me, I felt Martin grab a few loose strands of my hair and begin to twirl them around his fingers. I could see the reflection of my round face in the rearview mirror—the big eyes that seemed almost sleepy; thick, dark brows; full lips—I could see the revulsion slide over it.
I shouldn’t have, but I took the bait. Martin barely had time to brace himself before I whirled around and slapped that same clammy hand back down into his lap. My next breath caught in my throat. Do not touch me, I wanted to say; don’t think I won’t break every single finger on that hand. But he was grinning at me, his tongue on his cold sore, his hand rising again. Only this time, he wagged his fingers in my direction, taunting. I leaned forward, ready to grab that same wrist, to shut the pig down cold, hard, and fast.
But that was exactly what he wanted. The realization flowed thick and slow through me, inching its way to my guts. He wanted me to show him what I could do, to be willing to fuel my abilities with the same kind of viciousness pumping through him.
I turned my back on him again, my fists tightening with his triumphant chuckles.
Had the anger even been mine, or had he pushed it into me?
“Everything okay back there?” Cate called over her shoulder. “Hang on tight, we’re almost there.”
Whatever Marlinton normally looked like, it was that much worse under the cover of gray clouds and a layer of misty rain. Strange and terrible enough to distract even Martin from the games he was playing with my head.
The deserted shopping centers with broken storefronts were disturbing enough before we cut into the first neighborhood of little brown and gray and white houses. We passed a number of empty cars along the street and in driveways, some with bright orange FOR SALE signs still stuck in the back window, but all of them covered in a thick skin of brown, rotting leaves. The cars were surrounded by piles of junk and boxes—furniture, rugs, computers. Entire rooms full of rusting, useless electronics.
“What happened here?” I asked.
“It’s a little hard to explain, but do you remember what I told you about the economy? After the attack in D.C., the government was thrown into a tailspin, and one thing led to another. We couldn’t pay off our national debt, we couldn’t provide money to the states, we couldn’t provide benefits, we couldn’t pay government employees. Even small towns like this one didn’t escape. People lost their jobs when companies failed, and then they lost their homes because they could no longer pay for them. The whole thing is terrible.”
“But where is everyone?”
“In tent cities, outside of the big cities like Richmond and D.C., trying to find work. I know a lot of people are trying to go west because they think there’s going to be more work and food available, but . . . well, I imagine it’ll be safer. There’s a lot of looting and vigilante groups roaming about here.”
I was almost afraid to ask. “What about the police? Why didn’t they stop them?”
Cate bit her bottom lip. “It’s like I just told you—the states couldn’t afford to pay their salaries, so they were let go. Most of the police work is done by volunteers now, or the National Guard. That’s why you need to stay close to me, okay?”
It only got worse when we passed the elementary school.
The pastel jungle gym, or whatever was left of it, was stained black and twisting toward the ground. Clusters of birds were perched along its broken backbone, watching us as we blew past the stop sign and turned the corner.
We passed what must have once been the cafeteria, but the entire right side of the building had crumbled in on itself. The rainbow mural of faces and suns painted on the other side of the building was visible just beyond the tangled web of yellow police tape blocking off the wreckage.
“Someone planted a bomb in the cafeteria, just before the first Collection,” Cate said. “Set it off during lunchtime.”
“The government?” Martin pressed, but Cate didn’t have an answer for him. She switched her blinker on as she made another right, signaling her turn to no one in particular.
A city with no people.
My breath fogged up the window as we left that neighborhood behind and sped toward another strip mall. We passed a Starbucks, a nail salon, a McDonald’s, and another nail salon before Cate finally pulled into a gas station.
I saw the other car immediately—a tan SUV, a kind I had never seen before. The man leaning against it wasn’t pumping gas. That would have been impossible. All of the gas pumps were beaten in, their hoses and nozzles strewn across the concrete.
Cate honked, but the man had already spotted us and was waving. He was young, too, at least as young as Cate, with a small build and dark brown hair that fell over his forehead. As we got closer, the smile on his face bloomed into something brilliant, and I recognized him then as the man from Cate’s thoughts. The one she had pictured in dazzling colors and lights as we left Thurmond.
Cate barely had the car in park before she threw her door open and bolted straight for him. I heard her let out a sharp laugh as she threw her arms around his neck, knocking into him with so much force that the sunglasses flew off his face.
Martin’s sweaty palm touched the spot where my neck met my shirt collar, giving me a light squeeze, and that was it for me. I pushed the car door open and stepped outside, whether Cate wanted me to or not.
The air was damp with a thin mist of rain, brightening the trees and grass into an electric green. It clung to my cheeks and hair, a welcome relief after spending the last few hours confined with Martin the Mouth Breather, who seemed to be coated with something perpetually sticky.