UnWholly (Unwind Dystology 2)

“Isn’t it obvious? She told me it was retribution for not clapping—that the people in charge weren’t happy.”

“And who are the people in charge?”

“I don’t know. The only ones I ever knew were a bunch of other kids who are dead now because they all blew up, okay? I never met anyone in charge!”

Satisfied, but not really, the police leave. Then the FBI shows up and asks him the same questions the police did—and still no one will tell him anything about Marcus.

Finally, later in the afternoon, during one of her routine checks, his attending nurse takes pity on him.

“I was told not to speak to you about your brother, but I’m going to anyway.” Then she sits in a chair close to him, keeping her voice down. “He had a lot of internal damage. But luckily, we happen to have one of the best-equipped organ lockers in the state. He received a new pancreas, liver and spleen, and a sizeable segment of small intestine. He had a punctured lung, and rather than letting it heal, your parents opted to replace that, too.”

“My parents? They’re here?”

“Yes,” the nurse said. “They’re in the waiting room. Would you like me to get them?”

“Do they know I’m here?” Lev asks.

“Yes.”

“Did they ask to see me?”

She hesitates. “I’m sorry, hon, they didn’t.”

Lev looks away, but there’s nothing to look at. The TV in his hospital room has been disconnected, because there’s so much coverage of the explosion. “Then I don’t want to see them.”

The nurse pats his hand and offers him an apologetic smile. “Sorry there’s so much bad blood there, hon. I’m sorry all this had to happen to you.”

He wonders if she knows the whole of it, and figures that she does. “I should have realized they’d come after me eventually. The clappers, I mean.”

The nurse sighs. “Once you get wound in with bad people, the unwinding never ends.” Then she catches herself. “I’m sorry—that was a very unfortunate choice of words, wasn’t it? I should just sew my lips shut right now.”

Lev forces a smile. “It’s okay. Once you’ve almost blown up twice, you’re not so sensitive about word choices.”

She smiles at that.

“So what happens now?”

“Well, I understand your brother is your legal guardian. Is there anyone else who might come forward to help you? Somewhere else you can go?”

Lev shakes his head. Pastor Dan was the only other person he could count on. He can’t even think of Dan now. It simply hurts too much. “I was under house arrest. I can’t go anywhere without permission from the Juvenile Authority, even if there was someone to go with.”

The nurse stands up. “Well, that’s way out of my department, hon. Why don’t you just relax for now? I know they want to keep you overnight—it can all be sorted out in the morning.”

“Could you maybe tell me what room my brother’s in?”

“He’s still in recovery,” she tells him, “but as soon as they assign him a room, I promise you’ll be the first to know.” She leaves, and in comes a detective, with more ways to ask the same questions.

ens the door to find a Girl Scout standing there, carrying a carton full of multicolored cookie boxes.

“Hi, would you like to buy some Girl Scout cookies?”

“Aren’t you a little old to be a Girl Scout?” Lev asks with a smirk.

“Actually,” the girl says, “you’re never too old, and anyway, I’m only fourteen. But yes, usually it’s the younger girls who sell cookies, so you’re right in a sense. I’m helping out my younger sister, if you must know. So can I come in? It’s cold out here.”

The girl is kind of cute, and kind of funny, and Lev does have a weak spot for Samoas, as well as cute, funny girls. “Sure, come on in—let’s see what you’ve got.”

She practically waltzes through the door and sets the box down on the dining room table, pulling out one of each variety.