Outrage Read Free Page B

rats, and to X, and to the Xs they hurt before him. He’s X-5, that’s what they tattooed on his ear—what if they started with
A
and they experimented on ten or fifty or a hundred dogs for every letter?
X
is the twenty-fourth letter—”
    “Odin, stop,” Shay said, and turned him away from Fenfang to mouth more emphatically,
You’re scaring her, stop.
That got Odin’s attention, and his face screwed up with effort as he pulled in his arms and unclenched his fists.
    Shay turned back to Fenfang, expecting to have to explain, but instead, Fenfang was busy propping herself up against the pillow. Twist reached in to assist her, and she said, “I want to stand up.”
    Shay: “Are you sure?”
    “Yes.”
    Twist pulled a hundred-dollar bill out of his pocket and handed it to Cade. “You and Cruz hit a Chinese takeout. Shay and Odin and I will stay with Fenfang.”
    Cade and Cruz went out, and Shay and Odin helped Fenfang to her feet and walked her around the motel room. Eventually—there was no avoiding it—she stopped and looked at herself in the tall dresser mirror, Shay and Odin reflected on either side.
    “This isn’t how I thought it would be,” she said, almost to herself. “I’d like to see the back.” She turned sideways and sighed at the cap of wires and the bundle at her neck. Then she turned again, toward the center of the room, done.
    “If you don’t mind,” she said, and unhooked her elbows from Shay and Odin, “I can do this myself.” She started another loop around the room, solid enough on her feet to not fall down, though always using a chair, a bed, or a wall to keep herself upright. She sat down a few times and stood up and touched her head, the connectors sparkling in the overhead lights.
    Shay said to Twist, “I can tell you one thing: she needs a wig. Like, right now.”
    “We need to find one of those cancer places,” Odin said.
    Shay took a prepaid phone out of her back jeans pocket, and the knife she’d carried since Eugene out of her waistband. She tossed them both on the opposite bed and then sat down with West’s iPad to search for a wig shop.
    While Twist and Odin watched over her shoulder, Fenfang picked up a motel guide from the desktop. “Where are we?” she asked.
    Shay answered, “Reno, Nevada. Where there are a surprising number of wig shops. Let’s figure out which one is the closest.”
    Fenfang said, “I need to…,” and walked carefully toward the bathroom.
    Twist told Shay and Odin he’d been thinking of calling Lou, one of the two women he’d left in charge of his hotel for street kids. He had a stash of cash hidden in his studio, and he was trying to figure out how Lou could get it to them.
    Shay put a finger to her lips. “Listen.”
    Faintly, they could hear Fenfang in the bathroom, talking in a low voice. Shay looked over at the other bed and said, “She’s got my phone…and my knife.”
    She jumped off the bed and stepped over to the door, Twist right behind her. Together, they heard the young woman they’d rescued saying:
    “Hurry. Something bad is happening to this body, you have to hurry. Get me away from these people….”
    “What the hell?” Twist said, and rapped his cane on the door. “Fenfang? Open up.”
    She didn’t answer him, but went on talking, her voice going to a whisper. Shay reached out to try the knob—“Is it locked?”—and when it turned, she pushed inside….
    “Careful,” Twist said from behind, “the knife…”
    Fenfang, sitting on the toilet lid, tried to get to her feet but staggered, nearly losing her balance. Shay lunged for the phone, but Fenfang swung her other arm around with the knife, and Shay jumped back just enough to avoid being slashed, then Twist hooked Fenfang’s knife arm and wrenched it until she screamed in pain and dropped the knife. Shay snatched the phone.
    “Who’d you call?” Twist asked as he held Fenfang from behind, pinning her arms.
    “I won’t tell you a thing,” she