Read Online Dragon Virus by Laura Anne Gilman - Free Book Online

relatives, I mean.
Kid told them not to come back, when he was old enough. Not a good scene.” Josh
played with the frayed end of his jeans. A Jesusfreak had dragged him into a
rehab booth last month, left red paint handprints all over his new pair of
jeans. His mom was still pissed about that, like it was his fault or something.
    “You think you’re doing a good thing but you’re not. Not
really. Everyone ends up hating everyone else.”
    Steven’s hands curled, his fingertips leaving white
indentations in his palm. “What do you suggest, then, huh? Drop her in a trash
can and pray someone finds her in time?” He forced his hands open, then took
off his sunglasses and stared at Josh. The clouded white pupils of his eyes
were red-rimmed with stress and exhaustion. “She’s my sister, Josh. I sang to
her, every night before she was born. I promised her I’d teach her how to climb
trees, and ride a bicycle.”
    He swallowed hard. “I wish my folks had agreed to the amnio
scan. I wish we’d known, from the very beginning.”
    Knowing would have kept things from getting better, because
better ended up worse.
    Josh gestured helplessly, not knowing what to say. His wings
were furled tightly at his back, giving him a hunchback shadow. The last time
they had stood on the rocks together, the membranes had been spread out to
catch the first autumn breeze. He had looked like a human kite, spindly bones
and translucent webbing. He had been laughing like a madman, and Steven had
pushed him over the edge, just to see him soar up into the sky, and hear that
laughter trail behind him like a tail.
    “Come on, man.” Josh touched his arm gently, as though his
thin fingers could make an impression on Steven’s skin. “Let’s go home. Your
folks need you.”
    “Yeah.” And that was the worst thing of all. Parents were
supposed to be the strong ones. But he was the one who was strong. “Yeah I
know. I just... give me a minute, okay? Tell ’em I’ll be there soon.”
    He heard his cousin get up and leave, but the smell of his
worry remained. Like anything could happen to Steven out here, anywhere. Unlike
his sister, he could take care of himself.
    Finally solitude and silence returned; leaving him alone
with the thoughts that had driven him out here in the first place. Thoughts
that chased each other in futile circles: never flagging, just... running
around in circles until they exhausted themselves.
    “Oh, Bethy,” he finally whispered. “It’s not fair. It’s not
fair, baby. I was gonna teach you so much, so many things...”
    He couldn’t teach her anything she needed to know. He didn’t
walk in the world she was going to have to live in.
    Eventually he got up and went home. The lights were out,
except in the kitchen. He went up the stairs in the darkness, avoiding the step
that creaked, and paused outside the closed door, the one with the twining
roses painted on it, like something out of a fairy tale.
    He had painted vines along the top of the walls and across
the ceiling that day, tiny rosebuds and tinier thorns peeking out from under
the leaves. The window had a tiny dragon perched on the edge, and a gnome
waited by the closet door. His mother had laughed, and his father had shaken
his head — “what if the baby’s a boy?” he had asked.
    “Then I’ll paint a bigger dragon on the ceiling, eating the
roses,” Steven had said.
    There would be no dragons for Bethy. Not now.
    He went down the hallway and into his own room, closing the
door firmly behind him.
    o0o
    He woke up feeling like he hadn’t slept. The house was
still quiet, and he didn’t hang around to make any noise, grabbing a cereal bar
to eat on the way to school.
    He met up with Josh and Susan on the front steps, same as
always, like nothing had ever changed. Josh met his gaze then looked away.
Susan hugged him, hard, but wouldn’t look him in the eye.
    At least they were there. He nodded, not saying anything,
and they went inside.
    The