When the Wind Blows - James Patterson [68]
“I know who you’re talking to. I just don’t like your tone,” she answered back.
Max’s fragile composure broke suddenly. She leaped off the bed, ran to the bathroom, and locked herself in.
“Leave me alone! You sound just like them. Trust me.” She mimicked Kit. “Why should I trust anybody? I’m not like you, Kit! Haven’t you noticed?”
“Please, she’s just a little girl, Kit,” I said, my own voice pinched thin by stress, fear, and the unhinged craziness of the past hour.
He shook his head—once. “No. She’s not just a little girl. Unfortunately, she’s more than that. People are apparently dying because of her. We almost died back there, Frannie. We have to find the School where she was being kept, at least I do.”
That made me angry. “Don’t be like that, Kit. I have to find the so-called School, too. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m involved up to my eyeballs.”
Every time I looked at Max I wanted to hug her, but Kit was right. She was no more just a little girl than this was just a road trip. The truth is, we had no idea exactly what Max was, or what her being here meant. Only Max knew, and she wasn’t talking.
Kit turned and tripped over a tin trash-can full of junk-food wrappers from McDonald’s. He picked up the can and fired it hard against the wall. He kicked it a few times for good measure.
Reflexively, I threw my arm over my eyes as the noise reverberated. My dad used to lose his temper sometimes, back at our farm in Wisconsin. He’d throw things around, but never anything valuable; and he never hit anyone in our family, not even a spanking. Maybe that’s why I wasn’t really afraid of Kit’s mild, almost humorous tantrum.
“Something wrong?” I asked when the noise stopped.
If I thought I’d get a smile out of him, or that I’d shift his mood, I was mistaken.
“I didn’t mean to scare her,” Kit said, his voice catching. “I really like her, Frannie. She’s a great kid. It’s just that—we could all die.”
“I know. She knows, too. She’ll be okay.” Max had a hair-trigger flight response. I knew that people who’d been battered acted like that. What had been done to this little girl? Who had hurt her, and how? We needed to know more about the School. Where it was. How it had worked. What was going on there. Who the people were.
Kit walked to the bathroom door and knocked softly. “Max, I’m sorry if I sounded mad,” he said. His voice was gentle, concerned. “I was mad. I’m worried about your safety, and I don’t know what to do without your help.” I guess that was one way of saying, people are trying to kill us.
Max was quiet behind the bathroom door. Not a peep from her. Sometimes, she was a little girl.
Kit appealed to me in a whispered voice. “Please, get her out of there. Will you at least try? C’mon, Frannie, help me.”
Chapter 71
I SLOWLY WALKED to the bathroom. I didn’t know what I was going to say, didn’t have a clue. I knew I wouldn’t lie to her. I stood outside the locked door for a moment, composing my thoughts. When I opened my mouth to speak, the words came spontaneously and from the heart.
“Max, I promise that nobody is going to make you do anything you don’t want to do. I know that. You know that. We’ll figure out the best thing together. Don’t you think that’s the fair way? You have any other idea?”
There was a long pause. Total silence behind the bathroom door. Max could be incredibly willful and stubborn sometimes. She was almost a teenager. I was seeing that already. Then the knob of the door slowly turned.
Max didn’t look at either of us as she came out of the bathroom. “I’m sorry. I just got scared,” she whispered as she climbed back into bed. She was being a little sweetheart under this incredible pressure.
Pip jumped on the bed and she folded herself around him. I sat down behind her and lightly preened her feathers. A bird will do this smoothing feathers, realigning microscopic hooks along the edges so that they form a seamless unit. I was thinking about how to break this impasse without upsetting her again.
“It’s okay, Max,” I whispered.
“No it isn’t, Frannie. You