There was a spot of blood on her pillow, and more of it crusted on her upper lip. Another nosebleed. She was killing herself. Slowly. Painfully, from the looks of it.
One more year, Mom, I whispered as I pulled her door shut softly. I just need one more year from you.
In the room I shared with Melanie, our radio alarm had already gone off, and as usual, my little sister hadnt noticed. I swear, a demon horde could march right through our house and shed sleep through the whole thing.
and I, for one, am looking forward to a little sun! the DJ said as I dropped my oversized coat on the floor. It thumped against the carpet, which is when I remembered the pilfered cans of stew Id meant to leave in the kitchen. In other news, Church officials in New Temperance are expected to announce their choice for headmaster of the New Temperance Day School today, a job vacated just last month when Brother Phillip Reynolds accepted a position in Solace.
I listened for a couple of minutes, waiting to see if theyd announce a degenerate attack in New Temperance and the mysterious boy and girl spotted in the alley. When that didnt happen, I poked the alarm button, relieved that I hadnt yet made the news, and the DJs voice faded into blessed silence.
That alarm radio was the only thing on my scratched, scuffed nightstand. It was the last thing I saw before I fell asleep and the first thing I saw every morning. The clock divided my days into strict segments devoted to sleep, school, homework, housework, and real work. I had little time for anything else.
My sisters nightstand was covered in books. Not textbooks or the Church-approved histories and biographies available in the school library. Mellie had old, thick hardcover volumes, some with nothing but black-and-white print stories, others with brightly colored strip illustrations of people with ridiculous powers, speaking in dialogue bubbles over the characters heads. She borrowed them from Adam Yungs dad, who had a secret collection of prewar stuff in his basement.
The Church hadnt officially outlawed secular fiction, but they had a way of making things like that unavailable to the general public. Right after the war against the Unclean, theyd recycled entire public library collections to reuse the materials. And after theyd brought down all cellular transmission towersto keep demons from communicating with one another en massepeople had no use for their portable phones and communication devices, so there were recycling drives for those too.
Collections like Mr. Yungs were rare. When we were kids, Id read his stories with Melanie, curled up in our bed, dreaming of eras and technologies that were long past by the time we were born.
Then I grew up and realized that was all those stories ever were. Dreams. I lived in the real world, where Mellie was only a part-time citizen.
Time to get up, Mel. Standing, I gave my sisters shoulder a shove. She groaned, and I grabbed the towel hanging over the footboard of the bed, then trudged into the hall.
My shower was coldthe pilot light on the hot water heater had gone out againand we were out of soap, so I had to use shampoo all over. The suds burned the fresh scrapes on my lower back, a vivid reminder of my near death in the alley, and when I got back to the bedroom, shivering in my towel, my sister was still sound asleep in the full-size bed we shared.
Melanie. Get up. I nudged the mattress with my foot, and she rolled onto her stomach.
Go away, Nina. She buried her face in the pillow without even opening her eyes.
Up! I tossed the blanket off her, holding my towel in place with one hand, and my sister finally sat up to glare at me.
Im not going. Im sick. She swiped at yesterdays mascara and eyeliner, already smeared across both her pale cheek and her pillow.
I felt her forehead with the back of one hand while new goose bumps popped up on my arms, still damp from the shower. Youre not hot. Get up. Or would you really rather be here with Mom all day?
Melanie mumbled something profane under her breath, but then she stumbled into the hall. Even half-asleep, she remembered to tiptoe over the creaky floorboard in front of Moms room on her way to the bathroom.
When we let our mother sleep, we were rewarded with benign neglect. The alternative was much less pleasant.
I was buttoning my school uniform shirt when Melanie came back from the bathroom, pulling a brush through her long, pale hair still dripping from the shower. She looked her age, with her face scrubbed and shiny. Fifteen and fresh. Innocent. Without the eyeliner shed taken from the Grab-n-Go and the lipstick our mother had forgotten she even owned, Mellie looked just like all the other schoolgirls in our white blouses and navy pantsshining beacons of purity in world that had nearly been devoured by darkness a century ago.
We were living proof that the Church knew best. That the faithful only prosper under the proper spiritual guidance. And about a dozen other similar lines of bullshit the sisters made us memorize in kindergarten.
Todays the day, I said when she handed me the brush. I pulled it through my own thicker, darker hair. Im really going to do it. Id almost forgotten what today was, thanks to the demon in the alley, but cold showers have a way of bringing reality into crisp focus.
Do what? Admit that youre a hopeless stick-in-the-mud who never lets herself have any fun? She tugged the last pair of school pants from a hanger in the closet and shoved her foot through the right leg. Thank goodness we wore the same size, because we never could have afforded two sets of uniforms on our own, and if the Church found out our mother wasnt working, theyd take us away.
Melanie wouldnt make it in the childrens home. The sisters were too watchful, and she had become mischievous and careless under what the Church would characterize as neglect on our mothers part.
Id characterize it like that too. But Id say it with a smile.
I think youre having enough fun for both of us, Mel. Sometimes it didnt feel possible that we were only a year and a half apart. Its not that Melanie didnt pull her own weight; its that she had to be reminded to help out. Constantly. If I didnt beg her to take the towels to the laundry on Saturdays, wed have to air dry all week long.
So, whats so great about today?
I didnt get eaten in the alley behind the Grab-n-Go. But there were only so many secrets my sister could keep at one time, and our mother took up most of those spots all on her own.
I took a deep breath. Then I spat the words out. Im going to pledge.
Melanie froze, her pants still half buttoned. To the Church?
Of course to the Church. I tucked in my blouse, then pulled hers off its hanger. We talked about this, Mellie.
I thought you were joking. She grabbed a bra from the top drawer and took the shirt I held out by the neatly starched collar.
I dont have time for jokes. Why else would I spend all my free time working in the nursery?
For the money. As she buttoned her blouse I brushed sections from the front of her hair to be braided in the back. She hated the half braid, but it made her look modest and conventional, and sometimes that demure disguise was the only thing standing between my mischievous sister and the back of the teachers hand. The same reason I watch Mrs. Mercers brats after school and tutor Adam Yung on Saturdays.
For the money. As she buttoned her blouse I brushed sections from the front of her hair to be braided in the back. She hated the half braid, but it made her look modest and conventional, and sometimes that demure disguise was the only thing standing between my mischievous sister and the back of the teachers hand. The same reason I watch Mrs. Mercers brats after school and tutor Adam Yung on Saturdays.
I glanced at her in the mirror with eyebrows raised. You get credit for the babysitting. The Mercer kids really were brats, and she wouldnt have gone near them without a cash reward. But we both know why you tutor Adam, and its not for the money. He didnt even pay her in cashAdam usually came bearing a couple of pounds of ground beef or, in warmer weather, a paper bag of fruits and vegetables from his moms garden. Which wed learned to ration throughout the week.
Hed never said anything, but I always got the impression that his mother sent payment in the form of perishables to make sure our mother couldnt spend Mellies wages on her medicine. And to make sure we ate.
Stop changing the subject. She scratched her scalp with one finger, loosening a strand Id pulled too tight. You want to pledge to the Church just so you can teach?
I didnt want to pledge to the Church for any reason. But Thats the way its done, Mellie. All schools were run by the Church, and all teachers were either ordained Church pledges or fully consecrated senior members. Same for doctors, police, soldiers, reporters, and any other profession committed to serving the community.
Adams dad said they used to be called civil servantsback when there was civil government.
Melanie took the end of her braid from me. Dont you think the world has enough teachers?
No, as a matter of fact
You know what the world really needs? She turned to watch me through eyes wide with excitement as she wound the rubber band around the end of her hair. More exorcists. I mean, if youre determined to damn yourself to a life of servitude, communal living, and celibacy, wouldnt you rather be slaying demons than wiping noses on kids that arent even yours? Youre gonna need some way to work off all that sexual frustration.
Dont swear, Mel, I scolded, but the warning sounded hollow and hypocritical, even to my own ears. We both knew better than to curse in public, but there was no one at home to hear or report us. Profanity is a sin.
Melanie rolled her eyes. Everything worth doing is a sin.
I know. And honestly, it was kind of hard for me to worry about the state of my immortal soul when my mortal bodys need for food and shelter was so much more urgent.
I plucked the two slim silver rings from the top of our dresser and tossed her one. Melanie groaned again, then slid her purity ring onto the third finger of her right hand while I did the same. Nina Kane was scratched into mine because Id misplaced it four times during the first semester of my freshman year and Sister Hope had engraved my name on the inside to ensure that it would be easily returned to me.
Ours werent real silver, and they certainly werent inlaid, like Sarah Turners purity ring. Ours were stainless steel, plucked from the impulse-buy display at the Grab-n-Go one afternoon when I was fourteen, while Melanie distracted the clerk by dropping a half-gallon of milk in aisle one.
Fortunately, the sisters didnt care where the rings came from or what theyd cost, so long as we wore them faithfully beginning in the ninth grade as a symbol of our vow to preserve our innocence and virtue until the day we either gave ourselves to a worthy husband or committed to celibate service within the Church.
I knew girls who took that promise very seriously.
I also knew girls who lied through their teeth.
I didnt know a single boy whod ever worn a purity ring. Evidently, their virginity was worth even less than the stolen band of steel around my finger.
I grabbed my satchel on my way out of the room, and our conversation automatically paused as we passed our mothers door. In the kitchen, I pulled the last half of the last loaf of bread from an otherwise empty cabinet, and Melanie frowned with one hand on the pantry door, staring at the calendar Id tacked up to keep track of my erratic work scheduleI worked whenever the nursery needed me. Whats today?
Thursday.
Thursday the fourth? Her frown deepened, and I had to push her aside to grab a half-empty jar of peanut butter from the nearly bare pantry. It cant be the fourth already.
It is, unless four no longer follows three. Why? I glanced at the calendar and saw the problem. History test?
What? Melanie sank into a rickety chair at the scratched table. Oh. Yeah.
You didnt study? I set a napkin and the jar of peanut butter in front of her, then added a butter knife and one of the two slices of toast as they popped up from the toaster.
She shrugged. Its just a fill-in-the-blank on the four stages of the Holy Reformation. But the way she spread peanut butter on her bread, her gaze only half focused, said she was worried.
And those stages would be ?
Melanie sighed. The widespread decline of common morals, the subsequent onslaught of demonic forces, the glorious triumph of the Church over the worldwide spiritual threat, and the eventual unification of the people under a single divine ministry. She was quoting the textbook almost verbatim.
Good. Come on. I took the knife from her and made my own breakfast, then tossed Melanie a modest navy sweater and herded her out the back door, where the town perimeter wall was easily visible between the small houses that backed up to ours. The wall was solid steel plating fifteen feet tall, topped with large loops of razor wire. In the middle of the night, I heard the metal groan with every strong gust of wind. I saw the glint of sun on razor wire in my dreams.
But clouds had rolled in since my predawn activities, and the sky was now gray with them.
December eighth, 2034, I said around a mouthful of peanut butter and bread as we rounded the house and stepped over the broken cinder block hiding the emergency cash I kept wrapped in a plastic bag. If Mom knew we had money, shed spend it on something less important than heat and power, two resources I greatly valued.
Um the first televised possession, caught on film at a holiday parade, before the Church abolished public television to support and protect the moral growth of the people. Melanie shoved one arm into her sweater sleeve, then transferred her toast to the other hand and pulled the other half of her cardigan on over her satchel strap. So, how dangerous could secular programming have been, anyway? Its just a bunch of videos, like the discs in Mr. Yungs basement, right? Stories being acted out, like we used to do when we were kids?
I guess. But according to the Church, those videos tempted people to sin.
Mr. Yung had an old TV and a disc player that still worked. Id seen one of his videos once, but the disc was badly damaged, so I only caught glimpses of couples swaying in sync with one another, dressed in snug clothes. At the time, Id been scandalized by the sight of boys and girls in open physical contact with one anotherthose would be secret shames in our postwar world. But the adults in the video didnt seem to care, and no one was driven to wanton displays of flesh or desire, that I could see.