Pathogen, Ch. 3

Marnie walked around in a kind of trance the rest of the day, unable to process what she'd learned in first period. Trevor Kennedy couldn't be dead. There was no way. Based on everything she knew about him - which admittedly wasn't much - he was healthier than a horse; tall, funny, good-natured, and captain of the varsity basketball team. Captains of high school basketball teams did not just drop dead like fruit flies.

A heaviness covered the whole school that day, created by her classmates' fear, shock, and confusion. No one ran in the halls or spoke above a whisper, like they were scared the same thing would happen to them. Among the buzzing snippets of conversation Marnie heard, there seemed to be one common thought among them: something here was wrong. Very, very wrong.

Right before lunch, the principal announced that there would be a memorial service for Trevor in the gym after school. Attendance wasn't mandatory, but those who wanted to come and pay their respects were welcome. Even though she didn't really know Trevor or any of his friends, Marnie decided to swing by to be polite. She didn't plan to stay for long; just pop in for a minute, stand in awkward silence in honor of her suddenly departed classmate, then head home before anyone tried to talk to her.

The crappy, asbestos-filled gym was already packed to the gills when she got there. Someone had blown up Trevor's yearbook photo and glued it to a poster board, which stood on the half-court line on a flimsy metal easel. Based on the paper flowers and tiny foam basketballs haphazardly hot-glued around the edges, Marnie was ninety percent sure it was the work of one of the art teachers. At its base, the floor was covered with more pictures, a dozen scented candles (probably all scrounged from the English department), and a smattering of trinkets: flowers, cards, half-eaten bags of sour candy, a little teddy bear wearing a basketball jersey, etcetera. To an outsider like Marnie, the whole set-up was a little corny, but she was sure Trevor would have appreciated it.

As Marnie shuffled in to stand beside her classmates, she wrung her backpack straps anxiously. Marnie hated funerals. Technically, this was a memorial service, but her feelings about it were the same. She never knew what to do or say at these things, which made the whole situation awkward and frustrating. It wasn't like it made a difference to the person being honored. They were dead; a tragic fact, but a fact nonetheless, and one that couldn't be changed no matter how many weepy-eyed individuals stared longingly down at their corpse.

Just as Marnie was contemplating when it would be appropriate to leave, Trevor's girlfriend suddenly appeared in front of her. She was wearing the letterman jacket she had in first period - which was obviously Trevor's - with mascara stains striping down her cocoa-colored cheeks. She rubbed her cherry red nose on the cuff of the sleeve with a sniff, her watery golden-brown eyes studying Marnie curiously.

"Pistol?" she mumbled, clearly confused. "I didn't know you and Trevvie were friends. Thanks for coming by."

Marnie polished the toe of her left Converse against the back of her right calf. "Hey... it's Bianca, right? Um... yeah, I guess so. I mean, we had Snopes together. But we never really... y'know... talked or anything." After a moment of hella awkward silence, Marnie stopped chewing her lower lip to hamburger and cleared her dry throat. "I'm, uh... sorry. For... Y'know. If you, um... need anything, or-"

Marnie's sentence ended prematurely with a shocked grunt when Bianca suddenly threw her arms around her, squeezing her in a hug so tight she felt her ribs crack. "Th-Thank you," she blubbered, snuffling against Marnie's shoulder. "You're so sweet, Pistol... even if you do dress like a hobo, and desperately need conditioner."

Marnie folded her lips in tightly over her teeth, still deciding if that was a compliment or not. "Um... you're welcome?" she grunted, then carefully pried Bianca's crushing arms off. Before she could get away, though, Bianca grabbed her wrists.

"I'm hosting a wake at my place tonight at seven," she sniffed. "I want you to come. Please say you will. It would mean the world to me... and Trevvie."

Marnie glanced at the students crowded around her, which she realized were all watching their conversation and waiting for her to answer. That was the problem with Thomas Jefferson High: too many damn busybodies. Marnie hemmed and hawed for a minute, not sure if she should say yes. She'd never been invited to a classmate's house before... much less by the head of the cheerleading squad. She had nothing against Bianca, but she also really didn't want to spend her Friday night at a wake. Then again, it wasn't like she had anything else on her social calendar. Realizing she was backed into a corner literally, metaphorically, and socially, Marnie mumbled a half-hearted, "okay".

Even though she'd been roped into going to the wake, Marnie decided that same minute she sure as hell wasn't going alone. On her way out of the gym, she spied Julian lurking near the girls' locker room - the creep - and grabbed his arm. "Come on," she muttered. "You're walking me home today, and we're going to Trevor's wake later tonight."

Julian was on edge the entire way to Marnie's house, but he visibly unclenched when he realized Ms. Nightingale wasn't home. She'd said she'd be working late in the note Marnie found that morning, but Marnie hadn't told Julian that on purpose. It was just way too much fun to watch him squirm, and the threat of running into her mother kept him on his best behavior up until that point. She left him to his own devices downstairs while she headed up to her room to get changed for the wake. Not like she really knew what she was supposed to wear. It probably didn't matter, though, as most of her wardrobe was black. After an embarrassingly long time, Marnie decided on a black sweater, a plaid mini skirt - the only thing remotely dressy that she owned - and a pair of fleece leggings.

Her boots were still in her hands as she came downstairs, but she froze when she saw Julian watching TV on the couch. For a moment she'd forgotten he was there, and when he turned to look at her she second-guessed her choice of outfit immediately. Especially after she saw that dopey, slack-jawed look on his face. She didn't know why, but it made her extremely uncomfortable to be looked at that way.

Masking her discomfort with anger, Marnie looked away and tugged at the hem of her skirt, which suddenly felt much shorter than she thought it was. "What?" she snapped. "Do I look that stupid?!"

"No," Julian said quickly, hopping to his feet with that sweet, boyish smile Marnie liked. "Y-You look awesome! I've just never seen you dress like a girl before."

Marnie's eyes traveled down toward her socks, her whole head glowing with embarrassed heat. "Oh... well... thanks, I guess." While she put on her boots in awkward silence, the clock on the mantle played a cheerful little jingle, drawing her attention to it. When it finally stopped chiming, Marnie pushed her hair out of her face with a sigh. "Seven already? Damn: we're late! C'mon, move it or lose it!"

Although she knew she wasn't supposed to, Marnie grabbed the keys to her mom's old Honda Civic on her way out the door. It had been rarely driven since they moved in, as her mom usually carpooled to the local base during the week and the closest grocery store was within walking distance. Marnie knew how to drive - mostly - and had her permit, but she wasn't allowed to use the car unless it was an emergency. Especially if her mom wasn't home. This felt like an emergency, though. Bianca's house was all the way on the other side of town; if they walked, the wake would be over by the time they got there, and Julian was too heavy to ride on the handlebars of her bike. Marnie figured if they were quick and re-filled the tank on their way back, her mom would never know she took it.

Thanks to her lead foot and running a few stop signs, they made it to Bianca's by 7:30. To Marnie's surprise, there was a police car parked on the sprawling front lawn. The officer it presumably belonged to was talking to Bianca and an older woman who looked like her on the front porch, both of whom were inconsolable.

Marnie tried to back the car down the driveway before they were noticed, but Bianca's eyes locked on her like heat-seeking missiles. She'd just put her hand on the gearshift to put it in reverse when Bianca came running up to the driver's side window.

"Pistol! Thank goodness you came!" Bianca wailed. "Something terrible's happened! I-I don't know what to do!"

Reluctantly, Marnie put the car in park and got out, wincing as Bianca hugged her automatically. Twenty-four hours ago, this girl didn't even know Marnie existed, and now they'd hugged twice in the same evening. It was like they were in some bizarre parallel universe. Marnie was later than she thought, as she watched her classmates filing out of the house in a rush. She hadn't been to many wakes in her life, but she was sure they usually lasted longer than half an hour.

"What's going on?" she grunted, squirming out of Bianca's suffocating grip. "Why are the cops here? Did I miss a fight or something?"

"No," Bianca sobbed, pulling a crumpled tissue out of her bra and dabbing her eyes. "Th-The funeral home lent us Trevvie's c-coffin... j-just for the night... b-but when we opened it..." She burst into fresh sobs, collapsing into Marnie's arms like a damsel in distress in one of those old black and white movies. "T-Trevvie is gone! Someone... S-Someone stole him!"

Marnie didn't know how to process what she'd been told. More importantly, she didn't have time to, not with Bianca weeping and snotting all over her. She waved at Julian to get his lazy ass out of the car and help her, and thankfully he got the message. Together, they walked Bianca back into her house, each holding onto an elbow so that she wouldn't trip and fall on the impressively large brick steps leading up to the door.

The older woman - most likely Bianca's mom - ushered them inside and led them to the living room. Once they had Bianca settled on the crisp, white leather couch within it, Marnie planned to duck out. Bianca, however, refused to let go of her arm, leaving Marnie no choice but to sit down beside her. Julian looked ready to bail, but - after Marnie shot him a look that could kill - settled quietly onto the couch on the other side of Bianca.

Marnie knew Bianca's parents were loaded, but she'd still never seen a house this big. Some of the apartments she and her mom had lived in over the past sixteen years could have easily fit in that living room, with a couple of feet to spare. The furniture within it was all very tasteful, and probably cost more than Marnie's college fund. The only thing that clashed in the space was the sleek, black and silver coffin set up in front of the fireplace. Just looking at it gave Marnie the heebie-jeebies, especially since it was emptier than a cheerleader's head.

"I just can't believe this," Bianca's mom sighed, crossing the room to the punch bowl set up beside the casket. "Who in the world would want to steal a dead body? It's sick! Poor Trevor..." She filled two cups with punch, which she brought over to the couch for Marnie and Julian. Julian accepted his with a polite nod, but Bianca took the other cup and drained it before Marnie could even reach for it.

"This is just awful," Bianca sniffled. "Why do the worst things always happen to me?!" She let her head flop against Marnie's shoulder, tightening her grip on Marnie's arm. Marnie was for sure going to be black and blue in the morning, but she endured for the time being. The sooner Bianca cried it out, the sooner Marnie could get home before her mother made her into a corpse next.

"Yeah, it sucks," Marnie muttered, patting Bianca awkwardly on the back. "There was probably just a mix-up at the funeral home. If you call 'em, I'm sure they'll say he's there... safe and sound on his slab."

Bianca whimpered loudly and started crying all over again, making Marnie realize her poor choice of words too late. This was why Marnie chose not to socialize; everything that came out of her mouth was just wrong or stupid, or sounded better in her head. While she was trying to stop Bianca from sobbing so hard she made herself puke, a loud crash echoed from the back of the house.

Every head in the living room turned toward the noise at once, all stiff and on high alert like prairie dogs out of their holes. Bianca let go of Marnie's arm automatically and ran to her mother on instinct, which Marnie was not at all mad at. "What was that?!" Bianca hissed, her voice an anxious stage-whisper. "Everybody else is gone, and my dad's out of town!"

Another crash followed the first, this one much louder and closer than the one before it. A low growl echoed from dining room to Marnie's left, sending a chill through her from tailbone to neck. She couldn't see into the room from where she was seated, but it sounded like an animal had gotten in the house. A very big, very angry animal.

Bianca's mom ushered her daughter and Julian toward the front door, waving silently for Marnie to follow them. Marnie didn't have to be told twice to leave, but the sound of breaking glass made her flinch and freeze in place. The growling moved further away all of a sudden, which seemed like a good sign. She was just starting to relax, and vowing to herself never ever to go to a classmate's house again, when a quick flash of movement from the dining room caught her eye. She turned her head toward it on instinct, immediately noticing the beautiful French doors in pieces on the other side of the enormous table.

What she saw next, though, defied explanation. There was a teenage boy in a three-piece suit stumbling toward the woods behind the house. A boy who looked an awful lot like Trevor Kennedy.