gouges. They were grisly, wet with blood, and swollen at the edges. “You know how to use this thing?”
Tana touched her fingers to the phone, hitting the small picture of the video on the bottom corner. “I think so. Aren’t you worried your parents are going to see this? Let the cops know where you are. I mean, you’re underage runaways.”
Midnight snorted. “Our parents don’t get what we do online. They’re not smart enough. They’re nothing like us. Trust me, by the time they figure out what happened, we’ll be long gone.”
“Okay,” Tana said, holding up the camera and clicking the button to begin filming. “Ready.”
“Hi,” Midnight said, an odd intensity coming over her as she gazed into the lens. “It’s me, faithful servant of the night, adventurer, poet, and madwoman. And what an adventure I’ve been on! Lots has happened since I posted last. Winter and I made it to the rest stop outside of Coldtown, so we’re just hours from being inside. It’s exactly like what we always believed—when you’re following your deepest, truest, darkest destiny, the universe clears you a path. We met some people who are going to give us a ride. In fact, you might recognize them from the news—but I’ll get to that later. First, I have to tell you about what happened to me.”
Then Winter returned with a bag of medical supplies. Midnight asked Tana to keep the phone recording as Winter bound up her shoulder, spraying the wounds with antiseptic and taping down gauze bandages. She narrated all the while, eyes on the camera, even when it obviously hurt. When that was done, Midnight gulped down some aspirin and said she wanted to edit and upload the video to her blog before she did anything else.
Listening to her, Tana had to admire the way Midnight was able to turn what happened into a madcap story, into part of The Legend of Midnight. Even the not-so-good stuff was spun on its head to be enviable. Tana could imagine herself watching the video and wishing she was as brave and lucky as the girl in it. But standing in front of Midnight, knowing what actually happened, Tana could see that Midnight wasn’t just telling a story to other people, she was telling a story to herself. She was smoothing over all the frightening parts until she wasn’t scared. But she should be, Tana thought. She should be scared.
“There’s free Wi-Fi throughout the building—I’m just going to plug into the outlet over there.” Midnight pointed toward the food court. Taking the phone out of Tana’s hand, grinning, she aimed the camera part at her. The corner light flashed. “Meet me when you’re done with whatever. You don’t mind, right? You didn’t have to say anything.”
Tana was sure she looked awful, but a bad picture online was the least of her worries. She felt worn out, cold, and brittle. She could smell Midnight’s blood, a metallic scent, and wondered if that meant the infection had finally kicked in. Or maybe it was nothing. Maybe she should stop worrying.
“No, I guess I don’t mind.” Tana glanced over at a display of logo shirts. “I’m going to pay to take a shower.”
Winter gave her an almost friendly smile, the first since Aidan had attacked his sister. “That’s a good idea. Who knows how much hot running water we’re going to get inside.”
Tana wanted to say that she was still making up her mind about Coldtown, but she hesitated too long and then felt foolish. She waved an awkward good-bye instead.
The gift store was kitschy, full of shot glasses, bumper stickers, and T-shirts—baby tees with CORPSEBAIT across the front, big black sleep shirts with dripping letters: UP ALL NIGHT AT THE DEAD LAST REST STOP, I BITE ON THE FIRST DATE, DEADEST GENERATION, NOTHING IS THE NEW EVERYTHING , and I’LL TAKE MY COFFEE WITH YOUR BLOOD IN IT . There were mirrors with cartoonish rivulets of blood running from two puncture wounds silk-screened onto them, so that when you looked in the mirror, it
Tana touched her fingers to the phone, hitting the small picture of the video on the bottom corner. “I think so. Aren’t you worried your parents are going to see this? Let the cops know where you are. I mean, you’re underage runaways.”
Midnight snorted. “Our parents don’t get what we do online. They’re not smart enough. They’re nothing like us. Trust me, by the time they figure out what happened, we’ll be long gone.”
“Okay,” Tana said, holding up the camera and clicking the button to begin filming. “Ready.”
“Hi,” Midnight said, an odd intensity coming over her as she gazed into the lens. “It’s me, faithful servant of the night, adventurer, poet, and madwoman. And what an adventure I’ve been on! Lots has happened since I posted last. Winter and I made it to the rest stop outside of Coldtown, so we’re just hours from being inside. It’s exactly like what we always believed—when you’re following your deepest, truest, darkest destiny, the universe clears you a path. We met some people who are going to give us a ride. In fact, you might recognize them from the news—but I’ll get to that later. First, I have to tell you about what happened to me.”
Then Winter returned with a bag of medical supplies. Midnight asked Tana to keep the phone recording as Winter bound up her shoulder, spraying the wounds with antiseptic and taping down gauze bandages. She narrated all the while, eyes on the camera, even when it obviously hurt. When that was done, Midnight gulped down some aspirin and said she wanted to edit and upload the video to her blog before she did anything else.
Listening to her, Tana had to admire the way Midnight was able to turn what happened into a madcap story, into part of The Legend of Midnight. Even the not-so-good stuff was spun on its head to be enviable. Tana could imagine herself watching the video and wishing she was as brave and lucky as the girl in it. But standing in front of Midnight, knowing what actually happened, Tana could see that Midnight wasn’t just telling a story to other people, she was telling a story to herself. She was smoothing over all the frightening parts until she wasn’t scared. But she should be, Tana thought. She should be scared.
“There’s free Wi-Fi throughout the building—I’m just going to plug into the outlet over there.” Midnight pointed toward the food court. Taking the phone out of Tana’s hand, grinning, she aimed the camera part at her. The corner light flashed. “Meet me when you’re done with whatever. You don’t mind, right? You didn’t have to say anything.”
Tana was sure she looked awful, but a bad picture online was the least of her worries. She felt worn out, cold, and brittle. She could smell Midnight’s blood, a metallic scent, and wondered if that meant the infection had finally kicked in. Or maybe it was nothing. Maybe she should stop worrying.
“No, I guess I don’t mind.” Tana glanced over at a display of logo shirts. “I’m going to pay to take a shower.”
Winter gave her an almost friendly smile, the first since Aidan had attacked his sister. “That’s a good idea. Who knows how much hot running water we’re going to get inside.”
Tana wanted to say that she was still making up her mind about Coldtown, but she hesitated too long and then felt foolish. She waved an awkward good-bye instead.
The gift store was kitschy, full of shot glasses, bumper stickers, and T-shirts—baby tees with CORPSEBAIT across the front, big black sleep shirts with dripping letters: UP ALL NIGHT AT THE DEAD LAST REST STOP, I BITE ON THE FIRST DATE, DEADEST GENERATION, NOTHING IS THE NEW EVERYTHING , and I’LL TAKE MY COFFEE WITH YOUR BLOOD IN IT . There were mirrors with cartoonish rivulets of blood running from two puncture wounds silk-screened onto them, so that when you looked in the mirror, it
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