

Amy watched as the girl made way down the hallway. Shining in a halo of golden light, she looked like one of those Virgin Mary paintings the kind Amy used to see painted on the stained windows of the little church her parents used to drag her to. Beyond the flickering light of the girl's torch, a solid darkness stretched infinity every way. Twice Amy flinched and froze as the girl turned eyes her way, but there was no reaction. Too dark. Amy was safe, immersed in the black, watching the girl but not being watched back. The girl made way to the end of the hallway, and Amy stepped out of the classroom to look. She stopped in front of a window, the moon framed small and shy outside. Stood there for a few seconds. Then, in a sudden movement, crouched and grabbed something from the floor. Amy watched the girl bang the window re-boarded. She sighed, happy. Open windows let rain in, and rain brought Ghosts, and Amy didn't like Ghosts. Ghosts were the reason her father was dead, and the reason her little brother was dead, and the reason her mom was dead. It was because of Ghosts that Amy was alone. Because of Ghosts that she wandered the streets for weeks, hiding in every dirty, smelly, ugly place with a roof she could find. Eating any rotten thing she could eat. Avoiding the water from above like it was acid. It was all because of the Ghosts. But now she had found the school, and she was safe, at least for a while. There was the girl to worry about, but the girl wasn't as scary as the Ghosts. Amy could hide from the girl. Three days she'd been sharing the building with the girl, and the girl still had no idea. Even if the girl was bad and she caught Amy and she killed Amy, it still would be better than the Ghosts. Amy had decided long ago she'd rather die of starvation or at the hands of a gang or a lone drifter than die in the hands of the Ghosts. Anything but the Ghosts. She felt a hand against her cheek and froze. The girl. The torch was gone and, in the darkness, Amy didn't see her coming, and now she was too close, arms reach, breath inches from Amy's ears. "Who's there?" Amy heard the voice. It wasn't the first time she heard the girl speak, but it was the first time it was addressed at her. "I have a... wild animal! And a wooden stick! Still hot!"

Amy stepped back, and her feet screeched against the vinyl. She blinked furiously, trying to make out something in the dark. Nothing. Then the hint of a silhouette – a dark shade of gray against black, almost invisible. The girl waving her arms in the dark, feeling for something. Right at the bend of the corridor, not two feet from Amy. She looked back and thought about backing into the classroom again. But the girl wouldn't just forget about her, now. She'd keep looking. She'd come back in the morning, and Amy would have to leave, to face the rain again, before the girl got to her. Amy pressed her eyes shut then opened them again. She risked a step forwards into the corridor. The shape of the girl came to sight against the black again, so feeble it was hard to tell it from the light spots in the dark. But she was there – arms in front of her body and all around like balancing on a wire. Amy breathed in deep. She wasn't going back to the rain. Anything but the rain. Amy hoped, she really hoped, that the girl was one of the good people.

The punch hit whoever it was right in the face – Marylou felt the bump of a nose and the hollow of an eye socket -- and the yelp that followed was high-pitched and girly. In the dark, feeling the walls, she called: "Who the fuck are you!? I have a gun! And a snake!" She tried a few more stumbles and bumped into a hard surface. A door. "I have a gun-snake!" she cried, scanning the dark all around.