Page 104 of Blue Arrow Island
Marcus shakes his head, lips quirking as he rubs his jaw. “Really?”
I roll my shoulders, tired of sitting at the table in the front room of his quarters. “Just answer.”
He exhales heavily. “I guess the itchy butthole.”
“But not just a little itch, like a hardcore, driving you so mad you have to scratch it all the time kind.”
We’ve been sheltering for a couple hours, the reports Marcus has gotten over his radio about the storm going from bad to worse. Apparently, high winds and small chunks of ice havemade visibility near impossible. But everyone in the camp is accounted for, so all we can do now is wait it out. I’ve convinced him the time will seem to pass faster if we play Would You Rather.
“Which one would you pick?” he asks.
I smile. “I see what you did there. Like picking your butt because your butthole itches.”
He rolls his eyes. “I didn’t make that connection.”
“I’d choose no front teeth. But I’m not vain.”
He barks out a laugh. “I see. And I am?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Are you?”
His amused expression slides away. “I used to be, but not so much anymore. The only time I look in the mirror is to make sure I don’t cut myself while I’m shaving.”
“Bigger things to worry about?”
He nods, then says, “I thought of one. Would you rather have a beard you can never shave or be bald and you can never grow your hair back?”
“Hmm. I think I have to go with baldness.”
He flicks his gaze to mine. “You have nice hair, but you could pull off bald. I’d probably take the beard.”
I’m so used to scowling, order-giving Marcus that it’s a strange feeling to just be hanging out with him. I figured he’d be going stir crazy, not smiling and giving me compliments.
“Do you guys have a massive stockpile of food and toiletries? Like enough to last you years?”
His expression closes off, and I realize how much that sounded like I’m prodding for the information a spy sent by Virginia would want.
“You don’t have to answer.”
“We do have a lot stockpiled, and we get deliveries. You may have already figured out the supplies are supposed to be for both camps, but I stopped sharing with them a long time ago.”
I stand up and walk around, needing to stretch my legs. “And you’re hoping she’ll eventually trade people whose aromium you can deactivate for supplies?”
He lifts a shoulder in a shrug. “I’d be open to that. I don’t think she would, though.”
“Why not?”
He leans his elbows on the table, a crease forming between his brows. “The last thing I want is to make you sympathetic toward Virginia, but she’s in a bad situation.”
I narrow my eyes, skeptical. “She has options. She could at least negotiate for food.”
“The reason she fights so hard for people on the beach when the boat comes is because she has to make this program succeed. There’ll be a day when Whitman comes to get the kids, and he’s going to expect a lot of them.”
I nod, knowing how ruthless he is. Maybe she’s just as much a prisoner here as the rest of us are.
“Virginia can’t have children.” Marcus holds my gaze across the table. “She’s known that since before the virus. The only family she has left in the world is one niece, and Whitman’s got her.”
My chin drops with surprise. “You mean like as a hostage?”
